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ms-demeanor · 1 day

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You posted about adhd and I was hoping to follow up to clarify something. I’ve explained to my partner a million times about how the borderline-hoarding mess of his space is very mentally draining to me, and he understands but we’ve both essentially accepted he won’t clean his mess because he can’t because of his adhd. You’re saying he’s actually being a shit head?

This isn't necessarily an issue of him being a shithead, but it also isn't a sustainable situation. It's not good for you and there's a level of clutter that's probably not good for him either.

Large bastard is a lot more clutter-y than I am. The solution we've come to is trying to keep our messes at least isolated from one another; he can have his messes and I can have mine, but he can have those messes in his spaces, not all over the place. Sometimes those messes migrate, and that's when it's important for him to make the effort to rein them in rather than trying and failing to make a daily effort to keep our entire shared space tidy.

I think when you say "we've both essentially accepted he won't clean his mess" what I'm hearing is resignation; you're not happy about this but you don't know what to do so you've thrown up your hands and he feels helpless and unsure of what to do to improve the situation. This is the kind of "it's fine" that isn't really fine.

I think it would be worthwhile for you to each separately think about the mess and talk about it together. Are there areas that YOU *need* to have not-messy? Both for utility and your mental health? Are there areas where you can tolerate more mess than otherwise? Are there areas that are going to be harder for him to keep the mess out of than others? Are there things he doesn't *know* about cleaning up the mess?

I'm obviously a big "communication communication communication" person so I'm going to recommend a lot of talking about stuff, which is probably going to mean a lot of thinking about and interrogating stuff. I'm going to say "talk to him about why the mess bothers you" which means you also have to really articulate to yourself why the mess bothers you (for instance I'm not actually *bothered* by a messy kitchen, but I know it's going to reflect badly on us - and me specifically b/c of presumed gender roles - if someone pops by and the kitchen is a disaster, AND a messy kitchen is going to be harder to use). Genuinely, sometimes knowing *why* something is a problem might make it easier for someone with ADHD to do something. And it's not that he doesn't care that it upsets you, it's just that "Oh if I don't wash my breakfast dishes Anon won't have clear counterspace to make lunch" might be stickier in his brain (and less hard to look at emotionally) than "this thing I forget to do upsets my partner so I should do it."

For the record, I think that people with ADHD should read up on Demand Avoidance and see if it might explain some of the issues that they have in their day-to-day life; I've seen some really unfortunate situations with friends where trying to do things that their partner needed became the subject of demand avoidance. *I* have experienced negative outcomes of demand avoidance. The solution to that, however, isn't to stop making attempts to do the thing OR to simply try harder to do as they're asked/told (which reinforces the demand), it's to work on setting up a situation where the partners' needs are not interpreted as a demand. This is fuck-off difficult and requires a lot of patience and care and many attempts to succeed and will be different for each person and relationship.

(Also for the record demand avoidance isn't *super* strongly linked to ADHD and it's not a definitive symptom; like Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, it is something that occurs in some number of people with ADHD and can be a useful lens through which to examine various behaviors; you don't need to have DA or RSD to have ADHD, and having DA or RSD also doesn't invalidate your diagnosis; they're symptoms. For me, DA often feels like "if I don't look at it, it can't get me" - If I ignore all the messages I've got they aren't real and don't have real consequences so I'll just ignore my texts. If I don't look at the vendor email about the order, the problem with the order isn't real and it won't get added to my task list. If I don't look at the requests in my inbox I can't let people down when I don't do them. It's a self-protective coping mechanism but it's *maladaptive* and I can't just ignore the vendor email or all my texts. I need to work on a way of doing the stuff that I'm avoiding in a way that makes it less stressful and doesn't hurt the people relying on me. That takes a lot of effort, personal insight, trial and error, and )

But before I dive into specifics I want to be really really clear about one thing: sometimes people are simply incompatible. Sometimes one person has such a low tolerance for "mess" and the other person has such a high threshold for "mess" that it can't be reconciled. It sucks that this can end up being a thing that people break up over, but it is MUCH better to acknowledge incompatibility as early as possible instead of spending years and years building resentment.

There used to be a great forum called MiL's Anonymous that I spent a lot of time on. It had a lot of people in a lot of difficult situations struggling to get by and hold their relationships together. The question that was used as a litmus test to approach each situation was simple: If you knew today that everything about living with this person would be the same in five years, would you stay?

Because you can't control your partner. You can't control the future. You can only control yourself and your proximity to situations that are harmful to you. If you knew, 100%, that things wouldn't get better in five years, would you be okay with staying in this relationship? If the answer is "no," then that's that. Don't worry about questions of whether or not your boyfriend is a shithead, start the process of ending the relationship because there's a good chance the situation is going to be exactly the same in five years.

If the answer is "yes," and you'd stay in the relationship regardless of whether or not things changed, then it's time to take actions to improve your life within the context of the relationship.

(No judgement on that yes or no, btw. If you would hate living like this for another five years, and you would feel like you'd wasted your time and hadn't done the things you wanted to with your life, get out. Bail. Go. It will be better for you and better for your partner if you split instead of spending half a decade building resentments and and problems that you'll have to spend another half a decade healing from.)

Also, a note: you describe your boyfriend's mess as borderline hoarding - is the issue *mess* or is the issue *clutter*? I have friends who are very tidy, but whose homes are very cluttered. They like things, they have many things, they keep many things around, but their houses are always clean and well-dusted and orderly, just with a tremendous amount of *stuff.* I am addressing all of this as though the issue is mess, not clutter. If your boyfriend's situation is clutter (the space is busy and packed with things but it is functional and clean) and your issue isn't with *mess* (things out of place, things not having a place, things that need to be cleaned up gathering in stacks, falling behind on regular chores like laundry and dishes and taking out the trash) then you definitely need to assess whether or not you are compatible.

For instance here's a room that is messy but not cluttered compared to a room that is cluttered but not messy:

That first room is a *mess* but it would be very easy to clean up in under an hour. The second room is fairly tidy, but would take significant effort to pare down and declutter. BOTH of these can be difficult to live with but the second one is not dangerous or threatening to anyone's health. (The second one is QUITE cluttered and if every room in a house looks like this it can be overwhelming to live with; this is actually harder to deal with in a relationship than the first one in a lot of ways. I don't have a lot of advice for what to do if your partner is a high degree of tidy-but-cluttered because I don't actually think it's a problem or wrong to have thousands of books or bins full of lego or a million kitchen appliances as long as you have the space and can keep it safe and well-maintained; this is a really significant compatibility issue)

Okay, all that out of the way, here's the hard work.

Talk about this shit

Talk to your partner and define "mess." Make sure you are on the same page about what you mean when you're talking about what a messy room looks like versus what a tidy room looks like. Gather reference pictures. DRAW reference pictures.

Explain not just that the mess upsets you, but *why* and *how* it upsets you. In this context don't think of it as your boyfriend's mess, think of it as an unpleasant roommate. Discuss this using "I-statements". "When I have to pick up laundry all over the apartment, I feel like a parent more than a partner." "When there are piles of miniatures all over the table, I feel like I don't have anywhere to do things I'm interested in." "When there are dishes in the sink, I feel frustrated because I have to clean before I can feed myself."

Discuss, frankly and openly, whether he knows how to clean. I'm not trying to make excuses for him here but a lot of people with ADHD have a lot of stress and avoidance around cleaning because they spent a lot of time getting yelled at for not knowing how to clean properly.

Discuss your needs, be firm about what you require but willing to compromise. You *need* some spaces to be clean, and some spaces may be harder for him to keep clean than others. It may be MUCH harder for him to keep a bedroom tidy than it is to keep a kitchen tidy; if you need a clean and empty bedroom with everything put away and he simply cannot do that, that is a compatibility issue. But perhaps you need *your* side of the bedroom to be very orderly and can tolerate a moderate level of mess and clutter on his side. Maybe you're really really bothered by a messy kitchen, but it doesn't bug you if the dining table is covered with projects and papers. Figure out something more workable than "his mess goes everywhere and i live with it because he's incapable of cleaning" because he probably is not incapable of cleaning and you deserve to have places in your home that are comfortable for you.

Reduce friction for cleaning

Sometimes the problem isn't cleaning, the problem is the many many steps before cleaning, or not knowing where something should go when you are done cleaning. One of the absolute best things I've done for myself for cleaning my space is getting a broom holder and mounting the broom to the wall. Sweeping is now essentially thoughtless. I don't have to find the broom or pull it out from a pile of fans or go scrounging around for a dustpan it's right there on the wall, frictionless. So here are some ways to reduce the barriers to cleaning:

Make sure you and your partner both know how to use your cleaning supplies and know where those supplies are. When I switched dishwasher soap I had to re-show Large Bastard where I was storing it and how it was used, because to him what happened was the dishwasher tabs just vanished one day and he didn't know what I was putting in the machine or the process I used. He sometimes puts tools away in places that I can't see (he's more than a foot taller than me) so sometimes I can't get started on a maintenance project until he shows me where he put the battery pack for the drill.

Consider making a how-to chart to or having him make a how-to chart to keep someplace accessible so he can reference it while cleaning. Goblin.Tools Magic ToDo is great for this. Basically a lot of the time people with ADHD have trouble knowing what to do from step to step even if they've done something before, so having a step by step guide can make it easier (I have notebooks full of step-by-step guides for everything from paying for my tuition to removing licenses for my customers to weeding my yard)

Remove obstacles; don't keep cleaning chemicals in the garage in a box that's behind a stack of parts, keep them in the room you'll be cleaning. Don't keep the cleaning supplies that you use to clean the bathroom in the kitchen. Sometimes this means buying two bottles of bleach solution and two scrubbers and two sets of cleaning gloves but having fewer steps (fetch the windex, fetch the paper towels, fetch the gloves) is often the key to getting things done (open under-sink cabinet and grab windex, gloves, and paper towels that are there instead of in the kitchen).

This sort of overlaps with the next category, which is:

Create Dump Zones

One thing that I've found that seems very different between people with ADHD cleaning and neurotypical people cleaning is that neurotypical people are good at getting to a point where the cleaning is "done." They have checked off their tasks and they have finished and it is over. There are *SOME* chores that are like this (taking out the trash is a binary state, the trash has been taken out or it has not) and some chores are perpetual (horrid cursed dishes) but I think with people with ADHD, some chores that are binary for neurotypicals are actually perpetual chores. For instance "clean off the counter" is not a one and done for me. "Clean off the counter" may involve a three day reorganization project. "Clean off the counter" does not mean "wipe down the tile and put dishes away" it means assessing whether or not I need to make vegetable stock and bleaching three tea containers and reconsidering whether or not the sharps container should live somewhere else and going through the mail and figuring out what needs to be responded to and taking out the recycling and on and on and on.

We have had company at the house for the last two weeks, so I asked large bastard to clean off the dining room table, which is largely a project zone for him. Cleaning off the dining room table meant putting away his meds (and since he's a transplant patient that involves a 30 gallon rubbermade tote), throwing away some trash, and totally reorganizing his workshop. It also incidentally involved picking up a table from facebook marketplace and moving my plants, which has now involved moving my former plant rack outside (moving buckets, finding and organizing planters and gardening tools) and taking the former table to the thrift store (not done yet) and cleaning the rug that was under the former table. So "either the table is clean, or it isn't" isn't really true for us.

HOWEVER "hang on we can't eat until the table is clear so let's drive to Pico Rivera to get that console table right now" isn't a workable plan, so you create dumpzones as areas of holding between the start and the finish of the chore.

A dump zone can be a laundry basket. It can be a craft bin. It can be a back room or under your bed. It is a place to put things that you are going to deal with later because if you deal with them now it is going to derail the thing you are actually trying to do, which is set the table for dinner.

Dump zones are vital to cleaning with ADHD and I recommend them for day-to-day cleaning as well. The day-to-day dump zones might be more for you than for your boyfriend. For instance, Large Bastard works with bullets and he sheds bullets all over the house. I used to get stressed when I found bullets when I was cleaning because are these work bullets? Are these recreational bullets? Are they in testing? Do they need to be pulled? Do they go in the workshop or the office or the garage or does he need these today so they have to stay on the counter? And the answer now is "that's not my problem naughty bullets go in the jar." Which is perfectly sensible because he gets to say "mystery yarn goes in the bin" and "art supplies go in the bucket."

I feel helpless when cleaning a lot of the time. I'm frustrated and lost and I don't know where stuff goes and everything I pick up spins off into three projects in my head and every step feels like a wall to scale. Dump zones help me with that when there's pressure or a reason for cleaning beyond day to day home maintenance. People are coming over? The bedroom is a dump zone, I'll deal with that later. I'm just cleaning up because I need to? Okay I can find a permanent home for this new dish soap.

AS A VERY IMPORTANT COROLLARY TO THIS:

Active projects do not go in dump zones while you or your partner are cleaning. This may mean designating a project sanctuary area like a corner of the table or one particular chair in your main room where a project can be placed so as not to be disturbed. (if my current crochet project ends up in the yarn bin, that may mean that I don't pick the project up for another three months, it lives on the windowsill behind the couch because that's where it'll get worked on)

Do not put things away for your partner, put them in the dump zone for your partner. Your partner has to be the one to put their own stuff away in a way that works for them. I tend to find that this naturally puts a limit on the time stuff sits in the dump zone, because eventually you'll go "hey where's my thing?" and will put stuff away. If that doesn't happen, it's still generally better to have stuff in a dump zone than all over the home.

Do not decide you know what things go together from your partner's stuff and try to "put like things together." The neurotypical urge to put like things together is the mindkiller(j/k). You do not know which things are "similar" in your partner's organization schema and attempting to organize things on your own is going to end up with all of the things "organized" being functionally lost forever from your partner's perspective. Large Bastard's mom would do this and it was infuriating, she'd say "oh I put all the electronics stuff in one box" and she would mean soldering irons, transistors, ham radios, HDMI cables, and cellphone chargers. We are *still* going through boxes of stuff that she "tidied up" when he was hospitalized in 2020 and 2021.

To prevent the need for quite so many dump zones over time, you can work on setting up landing zones and "homes" for projects and tools.

Landing Zones

Landing zones are places where things go when you come inside from doing various things. Sometimes your landing zone only needs to be a tray for your wallet and keys, sometimes your landing zone needs to be a place to take off muddy boots and put a trowel and gloves down before you shower.

To make an effective landing zone, consider what behaviors you're trying to minimize and whether the people using it are ACTUALLY going to use it. For instance I was tired of the corner of my hearth getting cluttered with random junk so I hung up some hooks and put a shelf and a basket there and it became a really effective landing zone for my bag and keys and the mail, but it was VERY ineffective for Large Bastard because it's by a door that isn't the primary door he uses to enter the house. As a result I always know where my keys and bag are but he has trouble finding his keys and wallet. He tends to enter the house through our bedroom and has an overloaded valet next to the door and that's usually where his wallet ends up. Mounting a shelf to the wall above the valet and putting a basket and a hook on it will be a better place for his stuff to land. It's not that he's not using the first zone because he doesn't know that it's there, or because he doesn't care about lost time when I'm searching for my car keys after he borrows them, he's not using it because it's not by the door he uses. That's all.

I have a landing space for when I come in for gardening that's different than the one when I come in from grocery shopping. I have a landing space for when I walk into the dining room instead of the kitchen when I get home.

Landing spaces prevent stuff from piling up all over the place because they are a limited functional space that should be used frequently. Mail ONLY goes in the landing zone. If you have mystery mail or if you're not sure it's safe to toss, you put it in the landing zone. You can't let the mail get piled up too high or you won't have a space for your keys. You can't let the change in your wallet tray get too deep or your wallet is going to slide off, etc., but you also don't just put change on the coffee table or your nightstand because the landing zone is right there.

Homes for items are just what they sound like. They're the place the item goes. It lives there. My meds live on my nightstand. You would not believe how poorly I did with taking my meds on my vacation because they weren't on my nightstand. A while back large bastard lost one of his sets of sorted meds and we tore the house up looking for them because he couldn't find them in his nightstand, which is where they live. *I* found them in his nightstand because I emptied out the entire top drawer (he had only looked on the top layer) and found them underneath a radio and a hammock. Even though they were *hidden* they were in their home, so they were findable. I recently needed ink for an art class. Art supplies live in a dresser by my desk. Ink lives in the art bin or the top left drawer. The ink was not in either of these places (it was on a cabinet in the dining room behind a teacup) so it took me weeks to find it.

Sometimes the reason that ADHD spaces are so messy is because objects have been assigned homes in places that are visible and if they get moved they get lost. This is a genuinely difficult problem that requires a lot of effort to solve and can involve a lot of trial and error for creating a tidy living space. For some people, open shelving and visible storage might be a good solution. For some people, assigning a VERY clear home and inculcating that location by habit is the only way to clean up a space. For some people one very cluttered corner to at least isolate the chaos does the trick (for me and large bastard open shelving doesn't work because anything in one place for too long becomes invisible; that means that I rely on assigning things homes and large bastard relies on having contained chaos and a general idea of where to search but what that DOES NOT mean is that he is clean or tidy. His spaces look like an explosion. But he can mostly find his stuff and do what he needs to do and as long as that's limited to specific places in shared spaces I can live with it; the dining room table can be a disaster, the kitchen cannot).

People organize things differently. It often takes a while for neurotypical adults to settle into an organizational style that works for them and ADHD adults may need to settle into a new system every few months for it to continue working. The cleanup and declutter is most likely going to be a permanent project that is always going to demand some level of attention from everyone in a shared space, but "my ADHD means I can't do it" is not really going to fly. Maybe his ADHD means that he can't keep his space tidy, but it doesn't mean you can't move stuff from shared spaces into dump zones or that he can't do stuff around the house.

If he's insisting that his ADHD means that he can't clean it is possible that he's not being a shithead, he just feels helpless and doesn't know where to start and has adopted the belief that he's a useless piece of shit who can't even keep a tidy space like a grownup because he's internalized a lot of shitty attitudes (hello, my internal monologue about keeping a clean house). But it's also possible that he's just being a shithead.

It's something that's worthwhile to investigate with him. If he's unwilling to make an attempt, then he's being a shithead.

It is also not your responsibility to rehabilitate another person. If he wants to clean and it's something he feels bad about and needs some help and support with the way that someone might need help or support for learning to use a mobility aid, that is fine but you don't have to be the one who gives him that support if it's detrimental to your health, and you don't have to be the one to teach him that stuff if it's not something you're capable of. And if he is NOT interested in working on making your shared living space more accessible for you, that is not your suitcase to unpack and you just have to ask yourself the question from the start: would I stay with this person if I knew the situation was never going to change?

IDK, I'm sure a lot of this reads like "anon you must take on the emotional labor of training your partner to be an adult" but it's really meant to be more of a way of assessing yourself and your relationship. If you created landing zones do you think he'd use them? Would he get angry if you assigned a laundry basket as a dump zone for his stuff while you tidy the living room? Is living with him long-term going to be comfortable for you if nothing changes? Do you have enough of a shared definition of "mess" that you're at least in the ballpark for what counts as a clean house?

anyway good luck, and a reminder to folks that I'm compiling a bunch of adhd resources and other information on my personal website, ms-demeanor.com. It's coming along slowly but it will eventually include stuff like ADHD cleaning tips and how to tackle a hoard, so maybe keep your eye on that space.

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noodlesarecheese · 8 days

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So Watcher is launching a Dropout (it's not called Dropout but they're clearly using the same template format platform thing idk what it's called, and the same pricing structure), and the reaction so far has been wildly different than what I remember from Dropout's launch. I was curious about why that was or if I was just misremembering the Dropout launch, so I went back to the Dropout launch video to compare them and I think I can see where some of the difference is coming from.

If you want to make the comparison yourself: Watcher's Video, Dropout's Video.

I wanna clarify first though that this isn't a knock against Watcher or the fans who are reacting one way or another or anything like that, I genuinely am just fascinated with how different the reactions are to what seems to be the same business decision. This also isn't a 'wow watcher sucks and dropout is so much better' I'm just using them for comparison because they did the same thing with different results. ALSO this isn't about the business decision itself, just the presentation! Disclaimers out of the way, here's the analysis.

Title and Thumbnail So the Watcher.tv announcement video is titled "Goodbye Youtube" and the thumbnail is Ryan, Shane, and Steven sitting on a couch looking serious, with a dark background. That really makes it seem like they're quitting (which, ok, they are quitting youtube but not quitting quitting). Viewers are already primed to be upset, and it's easier to go from upset to angry than upset to excited, curious, or neutral.

Compare to the dropout announcement video: "How the Internet is Ruining Comedy" - inline with other collegehumor video titles, might make you curious. Thumbnail - Big News! with Sam smiling and a bright background. We know its big news, but he looks happy, and the exclamation point let's us know they want us to be excited. Viewers are primed to be curious and excited.

Tone The Watcher announcement has 2 main tones. The first half is very sentimental, almost sad or wistful at times, and while there are parts that veer into pride at achievements, it's mostly bittersweet and sentimental. The second half is a bit more uplifting, but still quite serious. It reminded me of a tech announcement, like when they introduce the new iphone or something like that. Very professional, sleek, and serious, which isn't automatically a bad thing! But I do think that's not the vibe a decently-sized chunk of the audience expected or wanted. Many people watch Watcher for the cast's dynamic with each other, humor, and the more relaxed/conversational/friendly feel that most of the series have.

Compare to dropout - excited and comedic tone. Still professional, but also fits the expectations of the viewers. People watch collegehumor for the humor (it was in the name, after all). They also poke a bit of fun at themselves, which lightens the mood, shows self-awareness, and alleviates some of the bad feelings about paywalling.

Focus The Watcher announcement focuses a lot on the creative journey of the cast and company, as well as how this move will benefit them. Which isn't a bad thing, that's actually quite interesting! The problem here, I think, is actually more about what isn't here - a solid explanation of how this will also benefit the viewers and why the viewers should be excited. There's a brief description of one new show, and the promise that existing shows will get an upgrade, but we weren't given many specific details about how they'll be improved, and there's only one new show to tempt us into subscribing. Some people will be excited for that, some people won't, and some people will be excited but not enough to subscribe. Having 2 or 3 series (even if it's 1 fleshed out plus a few teasers of what's in production or what is being planned) plus some more details about how existing shows will be improved would've helped. Without that, it really does seem like it'll just be the same stuff viewers were getting for free, but now paywalled, rather than new and exciting stuff. That makes a big difference. I think with the fans not getting as much focus, this also led to some (accidental, I hope) hurt feelings. Based on what I've seen from fan reactions, all the talk about hitting the peak of what they can do on youtube and wanting more, translated for many people to 'youtube isn't enough' which became 'you (the current viewers) aren't enough.' Which I don't think was their intent! But I also don't think fans are wrong for feeling hurt by that.

Compare to dropout: They clearly explain how the move will benefit fans, and reassure viewers that existing content will stay where it is, and only new content will be behind the paywall. (Watcher clarified this too, but in a comment. It's not in the video itself, which is a huge problem.) They include clips of several new (at the time) series that would be premiering on dropout, including things that specifically could not be made on youtube (due to weed, violence, and sexual humor), so the reason for the shift is clear to the audience.

Advertisers Both videos contain the sentiment that being monetarily successful on youtube means working to appease the advertisers, and that over time what the advertisers want and what the creators want drifts further and further apart, putting strain on the creators.

However, I think the message gets lost a bit in the Watcher vid. Instead, it leaves viewers with the idea that the main problem is just ads are annoying instead of advertisers putting constraints on content. I'm not even sure what the specific constraints are for watcher, because they didn't give any examples. And the focus on ads being annoying leaves viewers frustrated because people typically either don't mind ads or they already have an ad blocker.

Timing and Size Okay, this isn't exactly about presentation, but it is still a factor that impacts perception so I'm tackling it. And I'm actually going to do dropout first. CollegeHumor launched dropout in September 2018. Pre-pandemic, but also pre-Sam Reich as CEO. The company was still owned by IAC. It was a Company, and while it wasn't huge it wasn't tiny either. So launching dropout was a Company Decision, a Business Strategy. Some people were upset about, but it wasn't a personal betrayal (generally, anyways). If I remember correctly, this was also not a high point for the company. They kinda needed dropout to do well to keep things running smoothly (which is why they shut it down and sold it to Sam just 1 1/2ish years later), so the sudden shift made sense.

Watcher Entertainment is a company, but it doesn't feel like one. Ryan, Shane, and Steven own and operate things, but they're also the faces, and they're youtubers. Which makes every business decision they make feel more personal to viewers, especially those who have been watching for a long time. They've also seemingly been doing well on youtube, which makes it more difficult for viewers to understand why the sudden change is happening now. They do talk a bit about it, about the company expanding and wanting to do things that advertisers don't like (which I've already covered). However, mostly the choice to start a streaming platform is framed as 'the next big step' without much clarification on why it's the next big step. Plus, it's post-pandemic, and a lot of people are still struggling financially with the ripple effects of that. Yes, $6 isn't a wild amount of money, but there have been some months where $5 absolutely meant the difference between paying all my bills or not, and I know I'm not the only one. This, coupled with a lack of clarity about why exactly they're doing this, leads to fans feeling hurt, betrayed, bitter, and frustrated.

Now, presentation and framing isn't everything. No matter how perfect your announcement is, some people are still going to be upset. It's a big change, of course people will be upset! But I do think a more careful presentation would've alleviated some of the hurt and anger that fans are feeling. While I do think a lot of the reaction we're seeing is due to the decision, I think (based on what I've seen) that some of it is also based on the poor communication in the video itself, and that could've been avoided!

So I'm gonna get a little speculative and describe what I would've done. In this hypothetical, they've decided to launch the streaming service and brought me on just for the announcement.

Firstly, switch the title out. If they're married to Goodbye Youtube then add a (and hello...?) after so it's at least obvious they aren't fully quitting. The dark color scheme of the thumbnail fits their regular vibe, but they want everyone to be excited so they should look excited. Next, let's lighten the tone up. Being proud of what they've done so far is great, but we don't need the sentimental music and bittersweetness. Remember, the goal is to get viewers excited about what come's next - so let's focus on what actually comes next! Talk about specific show plans and mention why they wouldn't work on youtube. Then, take some time to reassure the fans. Predict a few likely worries and address them in the video. Acknowledge that it's a big change, that it will take time to get used to, and that not everyone will be onboard, and let the fans know that it's ok if they aren't onboard.

Like I said, this wouldn't fix everything. There are a few differences in between dropout and watcher that don't have anything to do with presentation. Dropout launched with primarily new shows rather than new seasons of existing shows, and they continued uploading to youtube relatively regularly in addition to the content behind the paywall, which I do think went a long way to keeping fans happy. At this point it's unclear if watcher will do either of those or not. But, while I don't think it would fix everything, I do think improved communication in the announcement would've helped.

#watcher #feel free to share your own thoughts but please be nice #I just like communication ok! And I really enjoyed the 1 marketing class I took in college #and it's pretty rare that you get such a clear comparison between 2 unrelated companies!

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fartfather · 1 month

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Audience of One pt.3

Satoru x fem!reader x Suguru

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

Word count: 6.5k

Series Summary: When Suguru first walked in on you and Satoru having sex, it was an accident. But he couldn't say the same about every time after that. He's under the impression that this habit of his is a secret. But you and Satoru have known this whole time and didn't plan on letting Suguru know anytime soon.

pt.3 Info: MDNI 18+, fem!reader, PiV sex, unprotected sex, voyeurism, threesome/throuple, cuck Gojo, hair pulling, morning sex, squirting, praise/degradation kink, spanking, begging, pet names (princess, baby, love, etc), established relationship w Gojo, aftercare, basically 90% porn 10% fluff, Gojo teaching Geto how to fuck you, Geto is no longer shy

pt.1 pt.2 pt.4

˚₊ · »-♡→ I know I said I'd post pt.3 yesterday, but I panicked and rewrote like half of it (oops lol). BUT- I'm much happier w this version 🛐

Also not sure if this would be a good place to end?? or if more parts would be wanted ¿ I would be more than happy to turn this into a series and I even have a pt.4 in the works, but I also don't want this to feel dragged on yk. Please lmk your thoughts because I am incapable of making my own decisions (ノ ° 益 °) ノ

Early hours of the morning came, and the first one awake was Geto. He looked down at you and his breath caught in his throat.

You looked so peaceful.

So angelic.

He couldn't help but press a soft kiss to your forehead.

His mind wandered to last night and he smiled. Everything was perfect. The feeling of your bare body was warm and inviting, and having you pressed against him sent sparks down his spine. Geto had never felt this way before.

He could get used to this.

"Hey," a sleepy voice whispered from beside him, startling him out of his trance.

Geto turned to see a very disheveled Gojo looking at him through half closed eyes, "Hey,"

Gojo’s attention shifted to your resting figure, still curled up against Geto's chest. He couldn't help the smirk that spread across his face.

"She's really out," he whispered with a small chuckle.

"Yeah," Geto replied, "we wore her out."

"Damn right we did," Gojo smiled proudly, "I'd like to see how long it takes to wear her out next time," Geto's eyebrows raised at the mention of a 'next time.'

Seeing the surprised expression, Gojo smiled and reached over, and landed a playful punch on Geto's shoulder, "I meant it when I said you're welcome anytime- In fact, I was thinking, would you want to do this again? Not just the sex, I mean, I that part too, but like, all of it. Hanging out and stuff," he clarified, a hint of embarrassment in his voice, “It just seems like there’s good chemistry between us,” he added trying to explain his reasoning with a gesture that circled the three of you.

Geto thought for a moment, contemplating his answer.

Last night was the best night of his life. And he didn't want it to end. He wanted to be able to feel your warmth against him again and again. To be able to see your beauty, and to experience all the joy and happiness that came along with it.

The events of last night unlocked something deep within him. His desires had surpassed mere lust, and turned into something more. Something deeper.

Something genuine.

And with that revelation, Geto decided to take a leap of faith. "I'd like that," he replied, a bit of nervous enthusiasm coming out in his tone.

Smirking, Gojo nodded and moved to brush stray pieces of hair out of your sleeping face. "Great. Well, I guess we'll have to have a real conversation about this once she's up," he nodded down at you, "but for now, we should probably get some more sleep."

"Yeah," Geto nodded, a smile creeping onto his lips.

With that, the two men fell back into a comfortable slumber, their arms gently wrapped around you.

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A few hours later your eyes began to flutter open, thick with blurriness from the heavy sleep you were just in.

Once your vision cleared, you were met with the sight of Gojo's sleeping figure beside you. His hair was a mess, sticking out in every direction. The sunlight was peeking through the curtains, casting a glow on his bare skin.

Turning to your left, Geto lay fast asleep. His features were relaxed, and his mouth hung slightly open. You couldn't help but admire his beauty.

You couldn't believe how lucky you were. Laying between these gods that walked among men.

You didn't want this moment to end.

Lifting yourself slightly to yawn and stretch, you accidentally hit Geto in the face, waking him. "Oops- I’m so sorry!" you giggled and flashed him an apologetic smile.

"It’s okay, beautiful," seemingly unphased by your elbow making contact his forehead, he smiled, leaning down to press a kiss on your cheek, “Good morning,”

The gesture was unexpectedly warm and sweet. Not that Geto had never been sweet to you before, but this just felt… different. Like it carried a new weight behind it.

You smiled and leaned into the kiss, "Morning," you murmured back, your voice still laced with sleep.

Geto's heart skipped a beat at the sight of your smile. He just couldn’t get over the warmth you radiated.

You felt a hand slide up your side and rest on your waist. "And what about me?" Gojo pouted.

Turning to face him you placed a soft kiss on his lips and mumbled into it, "Hello, baby," He hummed in satisfaction and scooted in closer, not wanting to leave even the slightest gap between you.

“How did you sleep?” Geto asked while massaging your neck that was tense after the events of last night.

"Mmm, so good," you replied, letting out a small sigh as the tension left your shoulders. You could practically feel the aches melting and your muscles turning to malleable putty under his touch.

"I'm glad," he smiled, continuing to rub his thumb into the knots of your skin.

"And you?" You asked, turning to look at him.

"Wonderfully," he smiled, his hands not stopping their massage. You couldn't help the way your cheeks heated up from this simple interaction.

God, his man was truly a treasure.

Gojo watched the interaction and felt a warmth spread through his chest. He liked seeing that you brought out Geto's soft side, and he knew that you enjoyed it too. The three of you stayed like that for a few minutes, silently enjoying each other's company.

Then, Gojo let out a dramatic sigh, and broke the silence.

"Hey, so," he started, looking between you and his friend, "Suguru and I talked earlier," Your brow furrowed at the tone in his voice. He sounded nervous.

Perking up, you raised a brow at him, "Oh?" You questioned.

"Mhm, we had a very productive conversation," Gojo continued, "while you were asleep," he clarified, "and, we think that, well, we- um, the three of us should hang out. Like, outside of sex. Or during. Or after. I mean- not like a requirement, just an option, if you're comfortable," he rambled.

You blinked.

Your face twisted with confusion as you tried to process his words. "Toru, what are you talking about?" you questioned, needing clarification.

"I want to date you too," Geto cut to the chase, his voice surprisingly steady and confident, "you would be with both of us. At the same time."

You stared at him.

Your brain was blank.

You breathed out a surprised, "Oh," The thought of it was interesting and foreign, though, not unwelcome.

"Only if you're comfortable with it," Gojo quickly added, "we know it's a bit... unconventional."

"A bit?" you asked sarcastically with a small laugh.

Gojo laughed and nodded, "Okay, a lot," he admitted, "but, we talked, and we agree. We want this," he said, motioning between the three of you, "Geto has clearly developed something for you, and vice versa. And I figured what better solution than adding Suguru to our relationship?"

You sat in silence for a few moments, mulling over the situation.

"It wouldn't be weird to you?" you asked Gojo with a concerned expression, "sharing me with your best friend?"

"Not if it's Suguru," he replied without hesitation, "we know each other well, and I trust him with my life. Plus- if it was, I would have never been able to enjoy the sight of my best friend eating out the woman I love, right?" he added with a teasing smirk, referencing the events of last night.

Your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, "Satoru!" you scolded.

Gojo laughed and pulled you in for a quick kiss. "It's true," he whispered against your lips.

Turning to Geto, you gave him a questioning glance, "And you're okay with this?" you asked, wanting to make sure he was certain.

"Yes," he answered without a moment of hesitation.

"You would really want this?" you questioned, "It wouldn't be weird for you?"

Geto let out a chuckle, "I wouldn't be offering if it was weird for me. I'm not going to lie, it's a little unconventional," he stated, "but, I would love the chance to be with you- even if it's not the traditional way," his confession caused a wave of butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

You thought for some time. The two men waited patiently, knowing that you would need a few minutes to process everything.

Assessments of the situation swirled in your mind. You loved Gojo and the life you had with him. And you wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardize it. But they both seemed so certain. They said they trusted each other, and if that was the case then why shouldn't you?

And on top of that, you couldn’t deny how Geto made you feel. Last night was clearly more than a one time deal. It was deeper than just sex, it was intimate. The way he touched you and admired you all night had chills running down your spine from just thinking about it.

The more you thought about it, the more appealing the idea became.

Being able to be with both of them was a dream come true. They were both kind, generous, and made you feel like the most precious thing in the world.

"If you aren't comfortable with this-" Gojo began, but was quickly cut off.

"I want to," you said quietly, "but what if something goes wrong?"

Gojo and Geto exchanged a quick look and burst out laughing.

That was certainly not the response you were expecting when airing your worries. "What's so funny?!" You asked, a bit irritated that they were laughing at your valid concerns.

"Baby," Gojo chuckled, "have you not seen the shit we've been through together? We'll be fine.”

Crossing your arms in defense you Looked between the two of them, "But still- What if you guys get jealous, or something goes wrong and we stop talking, or- or-"

Pressing a finger to your lips, Gojo silenced your anxious ramblings, "Shh, baby," he whispered sweetly with a reassuring smile, "We've got each other's backs. Plus, I'll kick Suguru's ass if he makes you upset," he joked.

Geto laughed and nodded, "I'd do the same," he added, causing a small giggle to slip past your lips.

You gave them an unsure smile, "I know you say that nothing will happen, but what if something does?" you countered, looking between them for an answer.

Gojo took your hands in his and looked you dead in the eyes. "Nothing will go wrong," he said, his voice now serious and full of promise.

"I'll make sure of it," he stated, a fire in his eyes, "Suguru will too."

A heavy sigh escaped your lips and you turned to Geto with a silent question in your eyes. "I'm not gonna let either of us fuck this up," he affirmed, reading the concern behind your gaze.

"We want to make this work," Gojo added, "And besides, do you really think I would put the best pussy of my life at risk?" He squeezed your side, making you let out a giggle.

You gave him a playful shove, "Shut up, idiot,"

"It's true!" He laughed and caught your wrist, pulling you in and placing a kiss on your temple.

"He's right though," Geto smirked, "last night was the best experience of my life. And that’s saying a lot considering I didn’t even fuck you."

Your cheeks heated and you let out a flustered laugh, "So you're in this for the sex, is that what I'm hearing?" you teased, poking Geto in the ribs.

He caught your hand and pulled it to his lips, planting a kiss on your knuckles. "No, sweet girl, its more than that." he said, looking down at you with a tender smile, "I'm in this for you- you know that."

The way his tone softened and his eyes gleamed was enough to make you melt.

And without wasting another moment you looked between the two men and nodded, "I'm in," you stated confidently, "if the two of you are."

Both their faces lit up at your confirmation, and the smile on their faces was bright enough to blind a person.

"Hell yeah!" Gojo cheered and wrapped his arms around you, "we're gonna make this work," he said, placing kisses all over your face. Geto smiled and joined, littering kisses down your neck.

And just like that all previous worries were melted away from the tingles that rippled across your skin after each new kiss. You giggled and melted into both sets of arms that caressed and embraced you gently.

Slowly, their sweet kisses began to get more rough. More hungry.

The way their hands roamed your body and their lips nipped at your flesh sent a spark of excitement through you.

"You're gonna be all ours, aren't you, princess?" Gojo purred into your ear.

A small whimper slipped past your lips as his breath fanned your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. "Mhm," you hummed, your eyes becoming heavy with lust.

Geto's fingers traced your collarbones, moving further down and stopping just above your breast.

"And I'm gonna take such good care of you, give you everything you want," Geto promised, "you're mine too now."

His possessive words sent a jolt of heat straight to your cunt and you arched into his touch.

"Yours," you mumbled, too drunk off their affection to register what was being said.

They both let out satisfied hums.

Gojo's hands slid down your body, his fingertips grazing your nipples, before resting on your waist. "Our perfect girl," Gojo murmured and pressed a kiss to your shoulder, "you're so beautiful."

Geto's fingers dipped down into your cleavage, squeezing your breasts gently, and his lips found yours. "So obedient," he mumbled into the kiss.

You whimpered against his lips. The feeling of their hands all over your body and their praises filling your ears was intoxicating.

"Mm, fuck," Gojo groaned, grinding his erection on your ass.

Gasping into the kiss, your eyes widened and turned to him "Satoru," you whined.

"Shh, Princess," he shushed, his hands gripping your waist, "be a good girl and keep kissing Suguru while I play with you,"

Your breath hitched, but you nodded and turned back to Geto, who was looking at you with a dark lust in his eyes. And instantly, Geto's warm lips were back on yours. They felt soft and plump, like velvet pillows, and you couldn't help but melt into the sensation.

"Good girl," Gojo praised, his hands moving further down your body.

You whimpered when his hands came into contact with the bare skin of your thighs, his touch sending chills through your body.

Gojo leaned down and planted a kiss on your shoulder, then continued peppering kisses along the sensitive skin of your neck, "We're gonna keep you nice and happy, baby," Gojo promised, the vertebration of the words on your neck tickling you lightly.

Your mind was blank. All you could do was moan and let them explore your body. Geto's tongue was slowly swirling around your own. His movements were slow and gentle, taking the time to savor the feeling.

Rocking into Geto's thigh, you chased the pressure, hoping it would satiate the throbbing in your cunt.

Geto's grip tightened on your tits and he pulled back slightly, just enough to break the kiss and allow a string of spit to hang between your mouths. "This desperate already?" he smirked, his thumbs rubbing circles into the hard buds of your nipples.

"Always," Gojo smirked, "she's such a needy little slut,"

You whined and rolled your hips, the need between your thighs growing more apparent with every passing moment.

Geto's eyes flicked down to your mouth, which was parted and breathing heavier, then back up to your eyes. The sight made his cock twitch, and his gaze darkened, "Fuck, that's so hot," Geto groaned, his dick already hard. His hands moved downward to your hips, gripping to hold you still, "Be patient for us, princess."

Gojo continued his kisses along the length of your neck, his lips brushing against your skin, sending goosebumps up your arms. "She loves hearing us praise her," Gojo smirked, "she's always so desperate for any sort of validation. Drives her wild,"

The truth in his words made you whine and looked at Geto, who was staring down at you with lust-filled eyes. "Is that so?" He asked, his hands moving to cup your face.

"Yes," you breathed, leaning into his touch.

His attention turned back to Gojo, "And does she like to be degraded too?" He asked, curious, but already knew the answer.

Gojo opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off from a whimper that escaped your lips. You bit your lip, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as you avoided their eye contact.

A mischievous smirk formed on Geto's lips, "Oh?" He tilted your chin up and looked down at you, "Look at me," he demanded.

You did as instructed, your heart skipping a beat when you met his gaze.

"Tell me," he began, his thumb running over your bottom lip, "do you like being treated like a little slut?"

His question caused a rush of heat to run through your body. You could hear the blood rushing in your ears, and you could swear that your arousal was now dripping onto the sheets beneath you.

Gojo couldn't help the chuckle that slipped past his lips. Your obvious reaction to Geto's words was adorable.

"I'll take that as a yes," Geto smirked, his eyes not leaving yours as he pushed his thumb past your lips. "Although, I guess I shouldn't expect anything more from the dirty slut who would let me watch her boyfriend fuck her for months."

The humiliation that coursed through you was overwhelming, and yet, you felt more aroused than ever before. You closed your eyes and took Geto's thumb into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the digit and letting out a moan.

You were helpless to the words coming from Geto's mouth, and there was nothing you wanted more than to be completely submissive to him. It was clear to them that this new way that Geto spoke to you was making you dizzy with lust.

"Oh, you like how Suguru is talking to you right now, don’t you, princess?" Gojo smirked, watching your reactions, "He's always so polite, so gentle with you. It's a nice change, huh? Seeing him be a little mean."

You nodded and moaned around Geto's thumb, which was still resting on your tongue.

Gojo was right, you did enjoy the new change. The way Geto looked down at you with a dark glint in his eyes, his usually sweet and caring demeanor nowhere to be seen, was driving you crazy. You wanted nothing more than to be dominated by him.

To be completely and utterly destroyed by him.

"What do you think, princess? Should we have Suguru fuck you? Let him see what a dirty, slutty, cum dump, you are firsthand?" Gojo cooed, his hands roaming up and down your thighs.

You whined, and Geto withdrew his thumb, a string of saliva still connecting it to your lips. "Is that what you want?"

”Please," you begged with an embarrassing urgency, "please, please, please, let him fuck me." you turned to Gojo, who was already beginning to stroke his cock with his free hand.

"Please," you repeated, looking up at Geto with a pleading expression, "I need it, please."

"Oh, you need it, do you?" Geto cooed, "Such a pathetic little slut, begging for my cock, and you don't even know how good I can fuck you," he teased, looking down at you with a patronizing smirk.

You whimpered and looked up at him, desperation clear on your face, "Show me," you begged, "please, show me how good you can fuck me."

The corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk, "Well, since you're asking so nicely," he said, "Get on your back. Now." His demanding voice took you by surprise and you immediately followed his instructions.

You untangled your legs from his and laid back, looking up at him with wide, innocent, eyes.

"Good girl," Gojo praised, sitting beside you. He pushed your legs apart and dipped his fingers between your folds. He rubbed his hand sloppily, for his pleasure only, the goal being to collect your juices. Then, he brought it to his dick, using it to help his jerk off.

"So wet," he said, pumping his dick with your slick.

"Toru," you pleaded, arching into his touch that was no longer there.

"Shh, just sit back and let me watch Suguru fuck you, princess," Gojo soothed, his thumb running circles around his slit, mixing your wetness with his pre-cum.

The room felt like it was spinning around you, and the only thing grounding you was getting touched in the place you needed it most.

Geto positioned himself between your legs and placed his cock on your clit. You could feel the hot, throbbing, length rest on your sensitive bud and it made you shudder.

Geto's hand gripped your thigh and he spread you wider, taking in the sight before him. "God, I'm never going to get tired of that view," Geto sighed.

"Just wait until you're in her," Gojo smirked, admiring your glistening slick rub onto Geto's shaft.

He let out a hum and slid his cock between your folds, coating his dick in your wetness. You moaned, your breath hitching as the head brushed against your entrance.

Seeing how needy you were getting, Gojo moved his free hand down and spread your lips, exposing your dripping hole for Geto's viewing.

"So pretty," Geto praised, his tip prodding at your entrance.

You were soaking wet and more than ready for him, and when he slowly pushed in, a loud groan ripped through his throat as he inched deeper into your warmth.

"Oh, god, so tight," he praised, his hips pausing halfway to give you time to adjust, "so perfect."

Your hands balled into fists and you moaned loudly, the feeling of him filling you up was so overwhelming, but in the best way possible.

"Isn't she?" Gojo asked, leaning in to press kisses against your neck, "you're perfect, aren't you? The perfect little fuck toy for us, and us only- Say it."

As he continued to slowly slide in, Geto kept his eyes trained on yours, not wanting to miss a second of your reactions.

Heat rose to your cheeks under his gaze, embarrassment evident in your expression. "I- I'm," you stuttered, a small whine slipping past your lips before you could get the words out.

"Use your words," Geto commanded through clenched teeth, his grip on your thighs tightening as your cunt pulsed around him.

You whimpered and nodded, trying to collect yourself. "I- I'm a perfect fuck toy," you choked out, a mixture of craving and shame washing over you, "yours- just for the two of you,"

"Fuck- Yes, you are," Geto praised, bottoming out and giving you a few moments to adjust. You whined and clenched around him, feeling fuller than ever before.

After your muscles relaxed, you rocked lightly against Geto's cock, to show you were ready for him. Though, just that small movement had you seeing stars as his tip hit your g-spot.

Your mouth opened in a silent scream and your nails dug into the sheets, gripping tightly.

"Oh, did I find it already?" he asked patronizingly, his voice laced with sarcasm, "You must be so sensitive," You could do nothing but whimper and nod, not being able to form words.

"Fuck, do that again," Geto demanded.

You followed his instructions and rocked against him, moaning at the sensation. "Holy shit," Geto gasped, his eyes rolling back as you squeezed his cock.

Gojo watched with wide eyes, his hand slowly stroking his cock as he watched the scene unfold before him. "How does she feel?" Gojo asked with a chuckle. He already knew the answer.

Geto moaned, slowly starting to roll his hips, "Fucking heavenly," You felt a wave of satisfaction wash over you, knowing that Geto was enjoying your pussy just as much as you enjoyed his dick.

"So warm and tight," he added, picking up his pace, "I could fuck her all day,"

"Please," you whimpered, "fuck me all day,"

A satisfied smile crossed Geto's face, and without a word, he started to thrust into you at a steady pace. You gasped, feeling his cock fill you up with each push. Your walls tightened around him, trying to pull him deeper.

"Fuck," Geto groaned, "Such a greedy fucking pussy, doesn't want to let me go."

You whimpered and wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer. His hands grabbed onto your waist and his fingers dug into the plush flesh. The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, and your moans and whimpers grew louder and louder.

"Mm, look at her," Gojo cooed, "she's so fucking desperate."

"Mhm" you breathed out nodding and looking up at Geto, who was watching your every move. He looked absolutely breathtaking. His hair was a mess, his face was flushed, and his eyes were filled with desire. The sight of him looking down at you like that made your heartbeat quicken.

"You love having my cock buried deep inside of you, don't you?" he asked.

You nodded vigorously, unable to form any words, but the way your hips met his every thrust and the sounds that came out of you told him all he needed to know.

"Oh?" Geto smirked, "You need more? Fucking impatient little slut- You need me to fuck you harder?"

"Yes, please, please, please," you begged, your head falling back against the pillow.

"Such a good girl," he praised, his hand moving to rest on your lower stomach, "such a polite little whore for my cock."

He pushed lightly onto your abdomen while fucking deep into you. The pressure from his hand was foreign and had you squirming and whimpering, biting your lip to hold in your cries of pleasure.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, there! There!" You screamed, "Please, don't stop!"

Geto smirked and leaned forward, "Look at me," he demanded, his voice firm.

Your eyes shot open, not even realizing they had been closed. You stared up at him and his lust filled eyes, a look you had never seen before on his face. The sight made you instantly moan and your eyes began to roll back involuntarily.

"Keep your eyes on me," he commanded, emphasizing each word with a hard thrust.

Your jaw fell slack, and a strangled moan slipped past your lips as pleasure coursed through your veins. "S- sorry," you stuttered.

Gojo groaned and his fist picked up pace, jerking his dick in tandem with Geto's movements. "It's okay, baby, you're doing so good," he whispered, leaning forward and brushing the hair out of your face, "so good for us."

Geto's pace continued and the heat in the pit of your stomach began to build dangerously fast. "Fuck, Sugu- I- I-" you stuttered, struggling to form a coherent sentence.

"You're so close already, aren't you?" He cooed, his eyes not leaving yours.

You nodded, and a loud whine slipped past your lips as Geto's hips started to pick up speed. "Fuck," he groaned, "fuck, you're squeezing me so good, baby,"

"Gonna- Gonna cum," you managed to say through heavy breaths and muffled moans.

In response, the hand on your stomach pushed slightly deeper, and that's what threw you over the edge. The pressure had your toes curling and your back arching upwards followed by a strangled scream on your lips as you came hard.

Your vision went white, and a ringing filled your ears.

"Oh, fuck," Gojo groaned, watching your legs shake and your face display your ecstasy.

"Shit," Geto groaned, "keep cumming for me, baby, just like that- fuck!"

Gojo smirked and leaned back, admiring his two lovers. "God, the two of you are so fucking hot," he said, his hand working furiously to match the pace that Geto was now setting.

You could barely register what he said, too overwhelmed by the waves of pleasure crashing through your body. The warmth from deep in your core had overflowed, somehow finding its release- and soaking everything around you in the process.

Geto moaned loudly and looked down at your pussy, Gojo eyes followed, widening and jaw dropping.

"Holy shit," Gojo breathed out, "She's squirting," he said in awe, "fuck- I didn't even know she could do that."

Your juices were flowing freely, coating Geto's cock, balls, and the bed beneath you in a thick layer. It was as if a flood gate had opened and your arousal was pouring out of you.

"Oh, god, oh, god," Geto repeated, "you're squirting on my cock," he groaned and picked up his pace, fucking you through your orgasm, "so good, fuck- So fucking perfect."

Your mind was blank, all you could do was babble and moan, letting Geto fuck you as you rode out the last waves of your orgasm.

"Fuck," Geto growled, his hips began to stutter. "Go on, Suguru," Gojo urged, nearing his own climax, "cum in her."

Geto looked down at you, the glazed over expression on your face was enough to send him over the edge. With a final thrust he bottomed out and painted your walls with his seed, the sensation pulling a long moan from both of your lips.

You could feel his warmth spill into you, filling you up and coating your walls, and causing a brain numbing tingle to run up your spine.

Gojo wasn't far behind, his own cum coating his hand and abdomen. He pumped his shaft as the last few drops landed on his stomach. "Holy shit," he breathed out, leaning back and letting the orgasm wash over him.

"Fuck," Geto groaned, his head dropping to the crook of your neck. Both of you were completely spent, not even bothering to move or say a word. The only sounds in the room were the heavy breathing and racing heartbeats.

You could feel Geto's warm breath against your skin as he took a few deep breaths. You brought a hand up and gently ran it through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly.

The gesture was simple, but it made his heart melt, grounding him from the high he just experienced.

"That was fucking hot," Gojo praised, "You're both so fucking sexy. I loved seeing you two together."

"So good, my beautiful, perfect, angel," he continued, placing kisses on your forehead and cheek, "you did so well,"

You turned to him and smiled lazily, enjoying the praise. Geto looked up and admired your blissed out expression. "You look so pretty like this, sweetheart," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek, "so gorgeous."

You leaned into his touch and hummed, your eyes fluttering, half lidded in tranquility.

Gojo chuckled and placed a kiss on your temple, "Don't get too comfortable, princess, we still need to clean up."

"I'm not leaving this bed," you mumbled, closing your eyes completely and nuzzling into the pillow.

"You're so spoiled," he chuckled and turned to his friend, "Help me out here, man."

"Sorry, baby," Geto apologized, kissing your nose, "he's right, we need to get you cleaned up," You groaned and nodded, accepting defeat. Geto slowly pulled out and stood up.

"Come here, my sweet, precious, girl," Gojo said, lifting you off the bed, bridal style, "Let's go take care of you."

You giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck. "M'kay," you replied, resting your head on his chest. Gojo carried you into the bathroom, and Geto followed closely behind. He sat you down on the toilet and you leaned against the wall, closing your eyes.

Once Geto entered, he turned on the bath faucet and waited for the water to warm.

"Do you wanna use a bath bomb, princess?" Gojo offered, reaching into the cabinet under the sink. "Ooh yes, please," you nodded opening your eyes with a tired smile on your lips.

A bright grin spread across Gojo's face from seeing you perk up, "Okay!" He exclaimed, grabbing one of your favorites and tossing it into the bath.

The sweet smell of citrus quickly filled the air, and the sight of the bubble bath and colorful fizzies had you feeling relaxed like never before.

Geto shut the water off and walked over to you. He knelt down and cupped your cheek, his thumb running over the soft skin. "How are you feeling, sweet girl?" He asked, a small smile on his lips.

You hummed and leaned into his touch, "Amazing," you replied.

He chuckled and kissed your forehead, "Good."

After all of the residue made its way out of you, you cleaned up and Gojo lifted you into the bath. He settled in behind you, wrapping his arms around you, and pulling you back to his chest.

"Is the temperature okay, princess?" Geto asked, sitting in the opposite side of the tub.

You hummed, closing your eyes and resting your head on Gojo's chest. "Perfect,"

"Good, we want you to be comfortable," Geto said, smiling.

"Thank you," you mumbled, snuggling into Gojo's chest.

It was a little crammed and you guys probably should have showered beforehand, but in that moment it was perfect and everything you could ever need.

The three of you had become comfortable and content.

As if that's how things had always been

Gojo was playing with the bubbles and making shapes with them on top of your head, while Geto was helping to wash the sweat off of your skin, his fingertips running gently along the curves of your body.

It felt so normal and domestic, and that's exactly what you had always wanted.

"So, how does this feel?" Gojo asked, reaching behind him to grab a loofah, "Is it weird? Being the meat in a Gojo and Geto sandwich?"

You choked on your breath and your eyes shot open, "Ew! It wasn't weird until you said that! Gross," you said, giggling and shaking your head.

"Yeah, Satoru, why'd you have to word it like that?" Geto asked, chuckling and chastising his friend.

"Oh, come on, don't be like that. It was funny!" Gojo laughed, running the loofah across your back, "Now answer the question."

"No, it doesn't feel weird," you replied, a smile on your lips, "I mean, yeah, we haven't done a lot yet, but I'm happy, and I like being with both of you."

"Yeah," Gojo agreed, "it's different, obviously, but, I'm glad it's the three of us. I love the dynamic, it feels like... home. Like the three of us were always meant to be together. Me and my two favorite people!" He threw his arms around your neck, his hands falling just above your chest.

You looked at Geto and he had the most genuine, loving smile on his face. "I couldn't agree more," he said, reaching out to take your hand in his. His hand was warm and comforting, and the way his thumb was rubbing circles into the skin had a warm tingle running up your arm.

Gojo was right, it did feel like home.

A warm, safe, comforting, home.

It was a strange situation, one that you never would have imagined yourself in. But at the same time you knew that the three of you would be able to make it work.

The three of you stayed in the bath for a little while longer, laughing, teasing, and joking, and eventually Gojo and Geto switched places. When the water began to get cold and the bubbles began to disappear, Gojo lifted you out of the bath and brought you back to the bed.

He gently laid you down and dried you off, pressing kisses all over your skin.

Geto emerged from the bathroom and watched the two of you. He could see how much Gojo cared for you, and how you trusted and loved him. It was a sight that made his heart flutter and he could only hope to have that deep of a connection with you one day.

"You're so cute," Gojo cooed, placing the towel over your head and rubbing it gently.

"Toru," you whined, the feeling tickling your scalp, "you're going to make my hair frizzy!"

"Shhh, let me enjoy this," he chuckled, moving the towel and planting a kiss on your forehead, "I love taking care of you, and seeing you so relaxed. Plus, I think your hair is adorable no matter what, and I know Sugu does too,"

Turning to Geto in the doorway, you pouted and tilted your head to Gojo, "Help me out here," you pleaded.

Geto couldn't help but smile. "He's right, sweet girl," he chuckled, walking towards the bed, "I think your hair is gorgeous no matter what," He pulled you into his chest for an embrace, but then scruffled your hair, catching you off guard.

"Hey!" You yelped, pulling away from him and trying to flatten your hair, "not you too!"

They both let out a laugh. "Sorry, baby," Geto apologized, leaning forward and pressing a kiss on the crown of your head.

"Traitor," you mumbled, earning a chuckle from Gojo and Geto.

"I'm gonna get dressed, I'll be right back," Geto said, reluctantly pulling away from the scene, "then, how about I make us a late breakfast?" You nodded and gave him a small smile.

"I knew there was a good reason to keep you around," Gojo teased, earning a slap on the shoulder from Geto before he walked off, "Ouch! Hey!"

Laughing you shook your head at Gojo's dramatic performance of pretending to be hurt by rubbing his shoulder, "I'm so wounded," he joked, flopping onto the bed beside you, "you're gonna have to kiss it better," he winked with a smirk.

"Maybe later," you giggled, giving him a peck on the cheek.

"Fine, fine," he scoffed, rolling his eyes and sitting up.

He smiled as he jumped off the bed and threw on a pair of sweatpants, "Come on, baby," he said, holding a hand out for you, "I'll pick out an outfit for you." You happily accepted and followed him over to your dresser, ready to start your day.

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rogueddie · 8 months

Text

Part one, Part two, Part three, Part four

For the next three days, Steve spends all his time hanging with El.

It's fun. She makes a little routine, once they find things they both enjoy, and does the best she can to make sure they're both happy. Steve is only confused when Hopper acts like she's really young- he can see how mature she is. She's practically a grown up!

It's calm, quiet, repetitive. That's why, when Hopper bursts inside one day, he's startled.

He's not supposed to be back for a while yet.

El is up, immediately, with a dark expression- like she's gearing up for battle. "What is it?"

"The Harringtons are home," Hopper says as he grabs some of the things the group had gathered, temporarily belonging to Steve. "They were asking too many questions. It's not safe for him here."

"Where will he go?"

"Munson said they can make room. They'd never think to look for him there and, knowing him, kid can probably hide him better than us."

El nods, satisfied, moving to help bag Steves things.

"Am I in trouble?" Steve finally asks.

"Not if I can help it," Hopper mutters.

"You are not in trouble," El quickly clarifies. "We are trying to make sure you are safe and happy. Eddie can do that for you, now that we can't. He cares for you. It will be ok."

"Do you promise?"

"I promise."

Neither let him help them get things together for him, reassuring him that they can take care of it- of him. El tries to include him, quietly asking him to get his yellow sweater.

But, soon, they're speeding out and and away from the little cabin that Steve has grown to love.

With how small and cramped it is, it felt so homely. Cozy. Lived in. Every corner is used for something, so many little signs of love and family- from the dishrack distant enough from the sink for two people to wash and dry, to the polaroids of El and her friends stuck to the walls.

It's why, when they pull into the trailer park, Steve feels hopeful.

The door opens, as soon as they stop, Eddie darting out to meet them in the middle. He grabs the bag, crouching a little to scoop Steve up and hold him on his hip, the same way Robin did.

"I got him," he says, reassuring. He looks too frantic for it to be convincing. "Go."

"Keep your radio on," Hopper replies. "Stay safe, kid!"

The engine starts up, pulling out and away, before Eddie can even step inside the trailer.

Another man is there, lounging on the sofa- he offers a small wave when he notices Steve looking, voice low and warm when he says; "hey kid, you alright?"

Steve nods, a little too nervous from the rush and new place to speak.

"I'm gonna get him set up in my room," Eddie explains, as he starts towards the hallway.

"Yell if you need anything!"

"That's my uncle," Eddie explains, as he steps inside the end room. Theres marks and tack on the wall, where posters used to be displayed but since taken down. "He's a big ol' softie, don't worry. He's gonna love you."

It takes Steve a moment to notice that the matress is the only bed in the room.

"Stay out of this draw," Eddie says, snapping his fingers to get Steves attention. He glances at the drawers, before patting the top. "Actually, don't go in any of these. Out of bounds, got it?"

"Out of bounds," Steve repeats, nodding.

"I'm gonna have to hang these up with my stuff," Eddie continues, opening his wardrobe. "Or... in this little box? Yeah, that's perfect, I'll just put them in here."

The box is sat at the very bottom, not too high and out of Steves reach.

"Uh... my guitars, too, don't touch them."

"I won't touch your things without asking."

"Thanks. But that's all, I think. Any questions?"

"Where am I sleeping?"

"There." He points to the mattress.

"Oh... where will you sleep?"

"The sofa. Wayne and I have a whole schedule figured out. It's a pull out bed, don't stress, it's fine."

"But your bed is here."

"And you're sleeping here."

"But it... you should sleep here. It's your room."

"Would you rather share?"

Steve looks to the mattress. It's not big, barely more than a single, but he's still small. Eddie is thin.

"Yes?"

"Boys!" Eddies uncle calls, before Eddie can reply. "Food!"

"We'll talk more at bedtime, alright?" Eddie offers.

Dinner is a quiet affair. Eddie seems uncomfortable the entire time, eventually admitting that they don't usually sit down for dinner- but Wayne quickly points out that they used to, when he was a kid. He points out that Steve deserves a nice family sit down too.

Steve struggles to keep him mouth shut, face neutral, at that. Despite only just meeting the man, the ease at which he offers his home and family is... Steve isn't sure. But it makes his stomach squirm, full of warmth and affection.

Most of the day is spent in front of the TV. Eddie is the only one really watching though- Wayne spends most of the time teaching Steve how to play cards.

The sky is turning dark with the setting sun when someone starts frantically pounding at the door.

"Where is he?" A familiar voice asks, when Eddie finally answers the door. "Hop said he's here, right?"

"He's here, come on."

Wayne gestures for Steve to come back out the little cupboard Eddie hard pointed to, for him to hide in.

"Steve," Robin sighs, crouching down so she can pull him into a painfully tight hug. "Are you ok? How are you doing? Do you need anything? Are you safe here? I can-"

"Buckley," Eddie snaps. He's smiling though, playfully smacks her shoulder. "He's fine, we're taking care of him."

"Good, that's good," she says, voice distant. She's too distracted, looking him over. She pauses when she lifts his hand, spotting the nail polish. "Oh, wow. These are, uh... really pretty. I didn't know you could paint nails so good."

"El did them," he quietly admits. He glances from Wayne to Eddie-

Who holds up his own hand, showing the black nail polish he's wearing.

"Not as cute as your yellow, but hey, black is my color."

"Black isn't a color, dipshit," Robin snorts.

Steve looks to Wayne, who wiggles his eyebrows when Eddie and Robin start bickering- which quickly devolves into playful wrestling.

"Ed," Wayne says, clicking his tongue. "Time."

"Oh, fuck," Robin replies, jumping up. "I have to go."

"So soon?" Steve frowns.

"Aw, don't give me those eyes, I have to! I wasn't meant to go out at all. I'll come back tomorrow, ok? I'll figure out something we can do. Deal?"

"Deal!"

Once Wayne has seen Robin out, he turns to Eddie with a raised brow. "Time for Steve to sleep, Eds."

"It's only-"

"Ed."

"Yeah, yeah, alright. Come on, big boy."

Standing in Eddies room, they both stare at the mattress. Steve turns to him, hands on his hips, raising his eyebrows at him.

He rolls his eyes, grumbling, "alright, fine, we'll try both of us. But don't whine when we don't fit or you're uncomfortable!"

He continues grumbling, as he digs through the wardrobe and some drawers, muttering about how he hasn't had to wear a pajama set for years.

Steve points to the bed, once they're both changed; "you get in first."

"Bossy."

Once Eddies laying down, Steve crawls in beside him, curling up to his side the way he does with his mother. It's so rare that she'd let him spend a night cuddled with her, but it's always brought so much comfort.

He's surprised that it's no different when it's Eddie that he's cuddling up to- he thinks it might be better. There's no complaints about sharing space with him, rather about the space.

"Is this ok?" He has to ask.

"Yeah," Eddie mumbles, shifting a little, arm curling a little tighter around him. "Yeah, it's alright."

tag list (if you want taking off lmk x) : @songbird-garden @str4wb3rry-guy @badcaseofcasey @lioniheart @irethsune @starry-eyedlune @newtstabber @messrs-weasley @vesme @penny00dreadful @ratboybubs @ocapmycap @ellietheasexylibrarian @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @little-trash-ghost @lazyavenuewhispers @paintsplatteredandimperfect @mightbeasleep @anaibis @sleepyboosstuff @thesuninyaface @morpheusmunson @notfrogsunderatrenchcoat @novelnovella @tartarusknight @spectrum-spectre @hotluncheddie @malicia62 @tencents121 @lightwoodbanethings @steddie-steddie @dragonmama76 @weirdandabsurd42 @lenathegay @theequeervibes @7shrewsinatrenchcoat @g4ys0n @subversivecynic @bleedingoptimism @eyesofshinigami @disrespectedgoatman @skiddit @chaoticlovingdreamer @estrellami-1 @chrystal-lovee @m-owo-n @fandommaniac123 @jackievsn @greekgeek24 @ajeff855

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet

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bonny-kookoo · 1 year

Text

Jungkook: By chance(short 1)

In which Jungkook gets to know his soulmate and can't help but fall deeper and deeper in love.

Tags/Warnings: Soulmate AU, Idol!Jungkook, slight angst, major fluff, no one asked but I still deliver, Jungkook having impure thoughts oops

Length: short/mid

Belongs to: By Chance

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"Did you order this much?" He laughs to himself as he brings in all the takeout boxes. You jump up to help, nodding eagerly, your phone now discarded on his couch. You've visited him after he'd asked if you wanted to spend some time with him- get to know him, seeing as you're soulmates.

"I haven't eaten all day - and honestly, I paid for it, so who cares! Those cinnamon bites will still taste good tomorrow morning for breakfast. And before you ask, I do plan on taking this stuff home with me if we don't finish it." You shrug, bringing the other boxes Jungkook couldn't hold into the living room.

"How much do I owe you?" He asks, already taking his phone out, and you just lick your finger after having opened some boxes to look what's what, shaking your head.

"Your honest opinion on the chicken, really. I've never ordered those, but they do look very hot right now, not gonna lie." You say, sitting down before stretching your legs. Your shorts reveal a tattoo on your leg that seems to travel high up- he's spotted a glimpse of something up to your rib when your stretched earlier, rising fabric of your shirt having also revealed a sparkling butterfly hanging from a silver piercing decorating your belly button. It makes him wonder how much more you hide away from his eyes, what might be there to discover for him.

You seem to be such a free spirit- an uncaged bird, open, colorful, exciting. You're infectious too, your bubbly nature easily making him feel all happy and relaxed. And he swears that's not just his soulmate bond speaking. He truly believes he would've at least developed a crush on you no matter the circumstances, really. You're cute, a little wild, testing him as if to see if he's able to tame you. You're exactly his type, not just physically.

Your beauty is simply a bonus- a pretty soul safely tucked into an equally pretty body.

"I love them, even if they're a little greasy. I've got a horrible love for fried foods." He laughs, sitting down to eat across from you.

"Would've never guessed." You smile. "Not to insult you, really. But I always thought every Idol, you know, is obsessed with dieting and staying away from anything that could have more calories than a carrot." You say, before holding a hand towards your mouth, eyes wide. "Oh my God, that sounded so rude, fuck!" You shake your head. "Now I cursed, I'm sorry, fuck- I mean not fuck, shit- I mean-" you whine to yourself putting your face in your hands while Jungkook laughs across from you.

"You're fine, really, it's okay." He reassures. "I'm not that sensitive, and honestly, a lot of idols do be like that." He shrugs.

"Maybe? I mean, I probably shouldn't even bring that topic up. I don't wanna be nosy." You say quietly, stealing a piece of chicken from him before you freeze in your motions. "Oh God I should've asked- why am I like this?!" You scold yourself, and he smiles brightly towards you.

"You're cute, nothing wrong with it." He flirts.

You look at him a little playfully suspicious before you continue eating. "If you're aiming at getting into my pants, I might have to disappoint you, mister." You say, and his eyes widen while he stops chewing for a second. "In front of you sits a very awkward virgin that's not even sure if she even likes sex, or kissing, or anything of that nature really. I'm just putting it out there, lay my cards on the table, I guess." You shrug before taking a sip of your soda.

"May I ask why?" He wonders respectfully, wiping his fingers on a napkin close by. "I'll respect your decision, obviously. I'm just curious, I guess." He clarifies, and you shrug.

"You've got every right to be." You nod, licking your lips. "I guess every guy has always been so.. pushy with it to the point where I didn't want to do it simply just to spite them." You explain, not looking at him. "Wanted to see how they'd react if I said that I didn't want to. You know, neither kiss nor have sex. Like a test, to see if they're any good." You tell him, and he nods.

"And none ever passed the test?" He asks, making you shrug as you look at him now.

"I mean, there's one who's on a pretty good road of maybe being the first to do just that." You say, and he smiles charmingly, fingers playing with his lip ring for a second before he turns serious again.

"All jokes aside, I really am okay with that." He says. "I didn't invite you here to fuck you, nor do I ever plan on doing that. Putting up a facade to tangle you into something, I mean. I'd fuck you if you'd want me to, just to be clear here." He tells you, reaching over to steal a few sips of your drink.

"Well, you stole an indirect kiss now, so that gonna be some points added to your fuckboy-ness." You say, crossing your arms- unaware probably that he now gets a very attractive sight of your cleavage now.

"We can easily make it a direct one too, if you want." He flirts again, and you stay quiet for a second, almost making him apologize- until you actually speak again, softly.

"I mean, I wouldn't mind.." you mumble.

"You don't have to push yourself." He tells you calmly. "I'm sorry if it felt like I was trying to convince you. I'm only joking around."

"No-" you start, looking everywhere but him. "-I, don't know, I actually do wanna try it with you. See if I like it." You say. "But, you know, only if you're up for it too."

"I'd be dumb to say no to kissing a pretty girl like you." He shrugs with a boyish smile before he gets up from the floor and squats down in front of you, his hands on your knees as you're still sitting on his couch. He chuckles at your shyness a bit before he slowly leans upwards, making sure to check until the very last second for any signs of you becoming uncomfortable. But that moment never comes, and when his lips make contact with yours for a short peck, your hands find his to hold onto, making him smile into the kiss before he parts from you. "Good? You're free to say if it wasn't, I'm really cool with that." He says, and you nod.

"Never really knew what to expect from a kiss, really." You shrug. "But it's nice. I liked it." You nod.

"Wait that was your first kiss?!" He now asks, and you nod.

"Wasn't that obvious? I thought I made it obvious." You laugh, and he laughs as well.

"I mean, I understood the virgin part, but I thought, you know, a pretty girl like you would've at least been kissed before." He says, and you playfully hit his chest, making him fall dramatically on his butt.

"Oh come on now prince charming, go eat your greasy chicken." You tease, making him grin.

Yeah- he really believes he's gonna fall for you. Maybe he already has.

Either way- he doesn't mind one bit.

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#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader

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one-fin-wonder · 8 months

Note

Can I have the boys reaction to someone info-dumping to them?

A/N: Yes Anon, you sure as heck can. I really enjoy info dumping on my friends so this is right up my alley. I hope this is what you were hoping for! :D

Warnings: I used my poor duolingo skills and limited Spanish knowledge to write the Spanish, there only a few but the grammar may off, I am so sorry for it in advance but there is translations to what I intended to say. not beta read / I’m too dyslexic for my own good, and fluff? I’m a hopeless romantic man. What do you want from me.

Word count: 1090

Steven Grant:

It all started when Steven asked you about your day as he walked through the door. He set down his messenger bag and turned towards you. It was too late, the waterfall of words already was released.

You began explaining how you dived deeply into your hyperfixation (or specific subject you would be info dumping about)

You smiled wide as you explained, and his heart melted at the sight of you.

are you the type of person that stims when you get excited? (I shore am) Steven will smile if you begin to stim happily while explaining.

He loves knowing that you are so excited that you can’t contain the energy, you have to physically let the happiness out

He simply smiled as he sat down next to you. He nodded and began asking clarifying questions.

“So, what you’re saying is…” “Theoretically then…” “Wait! That means…*He connects to another concept to allow you both to be engaged*”

He’ll wraps his arms around you if you’ll let him, holding onto you as you speak about your topic

He will praise your enthusiasm for the topic and vast knowledge.

“Love, you’re simply a genius.” “I love hearing your view and knowledge” “That’s so fascinating!”

Steven knows exactly what it’s like to need to explain one specific topic. He knows that feeling, that specific feeling like pasta water boiling over on the stove.

He holds your hands (with your permission) as you speak, he likes showing you that he’s there with you and listening, it's a gentle reminder.

He feels it's incredibly important for you to be comfortable enough to share these moments of informational rambling. So he tries his best to show you he’s interested, he hears you and that you are loved.

Marc Spector:

He is very caught off guard

Once he knows you aren’t upset or in distress he sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose before nodding and listening

He tosses his keys to the side as he nods listening to you

Marc doesn’t know fully how to react but he likes to hear your voice. The excitement and sincerity in your voice as you speak makes him smile, just a little.

Marc makes his way over to you finally after he completes his after work routine

Like Steven I think Marc would wrap his arms around you but he wouldn’t know much more than that to show he cares about your information

He does though, He loves you, and he wants to see you happy. He simply doesn’t do emotions well.

(My poor emotionally unavailable boy. He just needs a hug.)

He silently listens and only replies when you ask him if he follows,

Finally once you’re done you look at him with a small little sigh and smile and he melts.

You see it in his eyes and the stern expression he always has just softens.

you can tell how much he loves you in this moment, the pure love just radiating, but he won’t say it. He won’t explain the feeling he is experiencing.

But he loves you and you don’t necessarily need the words that he struggles to say, because it’s obvious in his actions.

and god, the feeling is mutual.

Jake Lockley:

this man has no fucking clue what you are rambling about

He will freeze in the doorway of the small apartment, hand still on the doorknob. He’s so confused and you’re talking a mile an hour in an excited tone. He cannot understand you at this moment.

Once Jake gets to you he will take his gloves off, stuff them in his pocket and put his hands on your shoulders (or a more comfortable spot if this can trigger you like it does me. Essentially he wants to ground you.)

“Mi amor, por favor, slow down. No comprendo.” ("My love, Please, Slow down I don't understand")

Or alternatively, he May think something’s wrong with how excited and rushing towards him you are. He puts a hand on your arm and looks around the apartment then back at you. “Que pasa?? Está bien???” ("What's wrong?? Are you okay???")

He would then notice your smile and beaming expression and relax a little “Dios mío,” ("oh my god")you gave this Poor man a heart attack but he loves you all the same.

he will listen but he will make you repeat yourself again

But it’s only because he cares so much. He wants to understand, so if it takes him several times to understand he will put that effort in.

He nods a lot, especially when it finally clicks in his little murderous, spanish, brain.

When he asks a clarifying question he always ends it with “yeah?” Ex: “so when you say the sun is a star you mean like that fucking ball in the sky, yeah?”

He sits next to you, his arms on his knees as he hunches over listening. He doesn’t look at you he’s looking most likely at the floor or the wall as he focuses on your words.

He tries really hard to make you feel heard but he legit makes that grumpy Spanish man expression the entire time. But you know this is just how he is, he loves you, he really does.

This man keeps a little notebook, like those ones for detectives that fit in pockets. He keeps one of those in his jacket pocket and writes down facts he wants to remember about your favorite topics. He is like a dad who is trying to keep up with the trends.

Not that he would let you necessarily see said notebook, he keeps it hidden in the inside pocket with a small pen or golf pencil in the spiral of the notepad.

He pats your knee like a dad too, to show you he’s there. He’s present with you. It’s subtle but it’s his own way of letting you know he’s trying to understand.

He would move heaven and earth for you, he loves your intelligence, your insight, he loves you. All of you, no matter your flaws, perfections, your needs.

So if being heard is what you need in this moment you know damn well he will give you everything he can to make it happen.

#moon knight headcanon #steven grant #steven grant headcanon #steven grant x reader #marc spector #marc spector fluff #marc spector headcanon #marc spector x reader #jake lockley #jake lockely fluff #jake lockley headcanon #moon knight system #moon knight fluff #moon knight x reader #jake lockely x reader

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funkybarnes · 9 months

Text

happy birthday, bugs!

pairing: actor!SebastianStan x bookstore!owner!female reader.

summary: Sebastian, as weirdly as it is, giving his career and your condition as a non-famous person, is your best friend. And today is his birthday. And you can't miss, for nothing in this world, the opportunity of being the first person to give him a little gift.

warnings: too cute, not much more than that.

trope: best friend to lovers. (possibly a series to be written in the future)

word count: almost 1K. (a little short, since is my first time posting a fic)

> means message sent from you to him.

< means message received from him.

a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO SEBASTIAN, this is my little gift for his fans and for him. I hope he's having the best day ever. Anyways, please feel free to reblog, comment and interact! I do not allow to copy, repost or translate this work. Also, I want to clarify that english is not my first language, so if you find any mistakes, bare with me.

The clock strikes midnight on a surprisingly warm night right in the middle of August when Sebastian was packing some clothes for the trip. Not a minute passed and he heard his phone making the sound he had chosen for your notifications.

> Y/n: "hey, are you at home?"

< Seb: "uhm, yeah, why?"

> Y/n: "are you alone?"

He looked at the phone with a frown, wondering what crazy thought was on your mind.

< Seb: "yes, weirdo, I am alone"

< Seb: "are you coming?"

> Y/n: "I was going to ask you if I could go"

< Seb: "of course you can, silly"

> Y/n: "good, cause I'm already outside!"

Sebastian took his eyes from the phone and looked at the door, and went straight to it. Walked a few steps to the stairs and went to open the main door for you. The image he encountered made him melt a little.

You were standing in the stairs, a little birthday chocolate dessert made from scratch with some candles on top in your hands, and when you saw him opening the door, you started to sing happy birthday to him.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, Sebastian! Happy birthday to you!" you sang with a huge smile on your face, and when he went down a little to blow the candles you stopped him. "Wait, I have to sing it in spanish too" you stated seriously and he laughed and let you go on with the show.

Once you finished singing he blew the candles and let you come inside. "I would have sang in Romanian but you know I don't know how" you joked while entering so he could close the door.

You gave him a big hug before heading to the stairs to his apartment. "Did you think that I would forget?"

"How can you forget?" he talked behind you, watching you as you opened his apartment door and let yourself in. "Thank you, Y/n"

"You have to teach me how to sing it in Romanian for next year, old man" you pointed your finger at him while talking after leaving the little birthday dessert on his kitchen counter. "How much is it? Like one hundred and two, right?"

He came behind you and shook your hair playfully. "Ha-ha, very funny, you're ten years younger, so I'm dragging you with me, ninety years old lady"

You frowned pretending to be offended as you watched him go upstairs, so you followed him, making your hair presentable again. "Hey, that's not funny! You wish you were a thirty year old woman!"

You heard him chuckle gravely, making your stomach flick a little bit, as he put some stuff in a suitcase. You took a seat on his bed following every step he made with your eyes. Before you could ask, he spoke, as if he knew what you were going to ask.

"Some friends invited me to a trip for my birthday, it's a surprise so I have no idea where I'm going" he laughed between words. "You think they'll kidnap me?"

You made a serious face and frowned, making a funny expression "oh, yeah, definitely, you're never coming back, bugs. This is the end of your era!" You threw a pillow from his bed to his head while laughing. "In fact, I think you'll be eaten by sharks and sea monsters. Worst one hundred and two birthday ever, and you don't get those very much"

He laughed loudly, coming to you with the pillow you threw at him in his hands, ready for the impact in your face. "Oh, shut up, you're so dramatic". He ran after you when you got up avoiding his strike, but he got you, wrapping you in his arms and dragging you with him to the ground.

You both laughed on the ground, a little sore from the impact, and ended up lay down, side by side, looking at the ceiling. A moment of silence later you turned your head to look at him. "You will have fun, don't worry".

He turned his head to you too, looking directly at your eyes, comfortable silence between the two. Then he took your hand in his and, as usual, you started to gently caress his, and his yours. "Yeah, but never as much fun as I have with you."

You turned your head to the ceiling again, trying to hide the blush in your face from him. He copied your action, but kept the caresses in your hand, bringing it up so you both could see the conjunction of yourselves.

As you both kept your eyes on the ceiling, breathing peacefully, time went by, the sides of your heads barely touching, closer than before.

"You should eat your dessert, I made it myself", you spoke a few minutes later, remembering the little chocolate delight you made this afternoon, just for him.

"I will, I'm just enjoying this" he whispered softly, almost closing his eyes and relaxing.

You doubted yourself for a second, but took courage after thinking twice. Then, you quickly got up, a little, just enough so you could gently put your lips to his, in a sweet but short kiss that he couldn't almost react to.

"Happy birthday, bugs", your whisper almost inaudible, just like your kiss, barely there.

226 notes · View notes

ghouljams · 10 months

Text

Two Cowboys on an adventure, one Nun very bothered by both of them. Soap and Moon play cat and mouse. Moon doesn't give Soap enough credit, there's a brain under those muscles sweetheart...

Ghost stops him before he can reach the door, holding up neatly folded bills and looking more serious than usual. Goose has really loosened him up, Soap's impressed.

"Bourbon, I know she has some." He says, well, commands.

"Bourbon, got it." Soap moves to swipe the cash and Ghost pulls it away.

"I don't think you do," Ghost narrows his eyes, taking in the way Soap bounces on the balls of his feet impatiently, "I want bourbon, good bourbon, do you understand?"

"Aye, bourbon, am I not speaking english?" Soap tries for the bills again and is once again thwarted. He gives an annoyed groan.

"Now what I'm afraid you heard was ‘any liquor thanks’-" another annoyed groan from Soap "-and if you come back with some shite scotch or more moonshine because you were too busy talking to your little nun I will murder you," Ghost clarifies. Soap rolls his eyes.

"You are out of your mind if-" Ghost fixes him with a warning look and Soap scowls, "You come with me and you dinnae hafta worry your soft British behind, how's that?"

Soap has to admit there is something to traveling anywhere with Ghost that makes him feel just a wee bit more badass. It’s the stern set of his shoulders and glowering, Soap thinks. Ghost hardly offered a greeting to the nun that opened the door for them past a short nod, all business. It was enough to keep the usual banter off the table before she yelled for you to come sort them out. You took one look at Ghost and just about dragged both of them to a more private room. Grumbling about making a scene and scaring the sisters. At least he had a reasonable request.

“You’re saving my hide, Hen, really.” Johnny tells you, leaning far too close to be proper. You shrug and grab the best kentucky bourbon you have for the good ol’ boy in the skull mask. For once you’re glad you keep the harder to get stuff in your office.

“All in a day’s work.” You grumble, hesitating when you try to get around him. He is really close, blinking down at you like he doesn’t understand what the problem with that could possibly be. “You’re Goose’s boyfriend, right?” You ask, still staring up at Johnny. Johnny snorts and turns away from you to look at Ghost.

“That all you are now? Mr. Goose?” He asks, and though you don’t see any physical change in Ghost there is a different air about him.

“Proudly,” He says without a hint of… anything, it’s weird hearing a tone that flat, “that my bourbon?”

“Best I’ve got,” you tell him, setting the bottle on your desk as he sets cash down. You swipe the bills and flip through them, taking what you need and handing the rest back. He hands you back an extra twenty, you like this guy, he’s welcome back any time. “I’m surprised you didn’t already have bourbon. The Prices keep a stocked bar.”

Ghost hums, turning the bottle over in his hands, “Not a drop of decent liquor in that house.”

“Harsh,” You tell him, because your liquor is in that house. He doesn’t bother responding, just turns on his heel and stalks out of the room.

“We’re out in ten Johnny.” You hear from somewhere near the front door. You turn your attention back to Johnny.

“What about you? What do you need?” You ask him, watching him sit on the edge of your desk.

“Ah cannae come just to chat?” He asks with a smile, you narrow your eyes at him.

“No.”

“Shame, that’s what I came to do.” His smile doesn’t falter, you get the feeling most people don’t say no to John MacTavish.

“We can’t have men coming in here just to chat,” You tell him, making a point of walking around his manspreading to get back to your side of the desk.

“Because people will talk?” You glare at his teasing, not happy about his tone.

“Because any house with more than five unrelated women living in it can be considered a brothel, and we are trying to maintain our exemption status, yes.” He twists to look at you, trying to gauge how serious you are.

“What if I’m making a donation?”

“Then make a donation.” You raise a brow at him. Johnny opens his mouth to say something and thinks better of it, shaking his head.

"How'm I supposed to talk to you, Hen?" He asks, hitting you with some serious puppy dog eyes. You do your best to keep up a solid frown, you've never been one to give into a man's ego and you aren't going to start now. "I'll ask Goose," he tells you, hopping off your desk. You're very suddenly faced with the entirely too real possibility of seeing this man outside of business transactions and it makes you panic a little.

"Why do you want to talk to me?" You blurt out, trying to say anything other than 'please don't chase after me, you won't like me when you realize this is all there is.'

"Never talked to a nun before," Johnny tips his head as he thinks, "Why wouldn't I want to talk to a Bonnie like you?"

"I'm mean," You tell him, because it's what everyone else has always told you. Johnny shakes his head.

"Don't believe that for a second, sorry lass." He checks his watch, "mean people are defensive people."

"What if I'm just mean?" You scrunch your nose, trying to keep some level of distaste for this stupid observant charmer.

"Then I like mean," he smiles, but it's softer, it makes you nervous, "Besides, there's nothing you could dish out that I couldn't take. I've had drill sergeants bigger and meaner than you, if that was enough to scare me off I'd never have made it this far."

You open your mouth to say something, as he walks to the door, but it feels like he's backed you into a witless corner. "You'll be seeing me Hen, don't worry." He calls over his shoulder, you throw one of your pens after him as he shuts the door. Who the fuck is teaching this guy mean person secrets?

Ghost glances up from his phone as Soap walks towards the car, snuffing his cigarette under his boot. "What's that," he nods at the keys Soap twirls around his fingers.

"Nicked 'em off Moon's desk," he says, walking to hop in the driver's side. Ghost pauses his entry into the cab briefly.

"You're stealin' from nuns now?" Ghost asks, smacking the radio as Soap starts the car. He hits it a second time and it sings to life.

"Just the ones I like." Soap tells him, peeling the old truck out of the nun's driveway. He'd give it an hour, he couldn't wait to hear from you.

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luminnara · 2 years

Text

Cherry Bomb | Billy Hargrove x Reader || PART TWO

PART ONE

The official Cherry Bomb Playlist (tm)

Masterlist

Is this beta read? No. Did I finish this at 1 am? Yes. Is it good? I sure hope so! 12,800+ words of Cherry Bomb goodness, for your reading pleasure!

Warnings: f slur/homophobia, verbal abuse, vague nsfw stuff

Tags: @smenny @infinitelyforgotten @littlewinter1917 @djiafjaidjcj @pans-fav-shank @notwithawhimper @buckysjuicyplums @local-yn @northwmar @ttomholland2008 @secretly-a-weeb @jaynorama @all-bi-myselfs-blog @eddiemunsonswife21 @kingexplosionm @jaziscool @killer-queen101 @hannahnikohl @piper570 @slut4fictionalcharacters @pawneeismyhome @eirugybrkhs @a-rockstars-bitch @queenofstarsanddarkness @smelly-sock @frogtits1 @itwasagathaallalonggg @kat-ara6 @ifyouwerethemoon @aangsupremacy @bilesxbilinskixlahey @itsnanabun @makepastanotwar13 @brooklynmarie @multi-fandom205 @lanalanaban @fanatics30

“Hey, Hargrove.”

“Hey there, Doll.” Billy greeted you as you stepped out of your car. He looked just as gorgeous as ever, brilliant blue eyes trained on you and following your every movement. “It’s icy. Careful.”

“I think I know a little more about icy winters than you, California Boy,” you snorted a laugh as you shut the car door and faced him.

The morning air was chilly, your breath coming out in little puffs. You were used to it, the sometimes frigid Indiana weather, but you could tell that Billy didn’t like it one bit. Not that he liked anything about Hawkins anyways.

“Whatever,” he sneered, amazing you, as always, with his ability to have so much attitude so early in the morning. You wondered how hard he had to try at it, or if he even had to try at all.

He was wearing his jean jacket, smoking a cigarette, and looking like someone shoved a particularly rough stick up his ass. Everyone in the parking lot was watching him, the girls still hoping they had a chance—because, after all, wasn’t Billy Hargrove a total player? How could he not be?—while the guys called to him with the hopes that they could get his attention and then get on his good side. He was focused on you, though, looking down at you with an expression you had come to discover was his version of warm. He was still way too cool to do or say anything mushy, of course, and neither of you had clarified where exactly you stood, but you were something, and everybody seemed to know it.

After all, they watched the way Billy carried things for you, how he opened doors, how he always seemed to want you up against his side. Tommy H had already started a rumor that you were a total slut and you were totally good at it, because how else could you have Billy Hargrove eating out of the palm of your hand like that? You were obviously actually very experienced, and you probably did it in the back of your car, and the Camaro, every day after class. Obviously.

You didn’t really care about the rumors, not even the nastier ones that Carol was spreading out of jealousy. You were happy with Billy around. You knew a side of him that he’d never allow anyone else to see, and after the night he had climbed through your window, something had changed between you. There was some sort of a silent understanding developing, an agreement that you wouldn’t bring it up and he would maybe not be an ass. And he wasn’t, at least not to you—he was polite, or at least his version of polite, and that was fine. He was sweet when he wanted to be, and now, you were starting to see why he was always so ready to fight and rage at anyone who looked at him funny.

You never brought it up, though. You held his face so gently whenever the two of you were alone, and you stroked his cheeks with your thumbs in a way that he totally thought made him look like a pussy but he appreciated nonetheless, and you spoke softly and just sat with him when he needed the peace. Billy didn’t explain anything about why his father was so rough on him, and even though you wanted to know why Neil Hargrove was like that, you didn’t ask. You didn’t press. Because you figured maybe Billy needed a refuge from it, and maybe he would talk about it when he was ready.

When he trusted you enough.

Because Billy did trust you, but he didn’t know how to tell you what it was like living with his father. He didn’t know how to go about explaining how much he missed his mother and wished she hadn’t walked out on him, or how fucked up in the head he was from all of it. He was too afraid of hearing himself say anything out loud.

So he didn’t. Not yet.

He just followed you around like a lovesick puppy instead, because that’s what he was, and that was the only thing he could do.

“Everyone is staring,” you said in a hushed voice as Billy grabbed you by the hips and pulled you up against him.

“So let ‘em stare.”

“Billy…”

“What, doll?”

There it was. The pet name that always made you melt a little.

“Let’s just go inside,” you grumbled, picking at the front of his jacket in an attempt to ignore the heat of everyone’s glares.

“What, you suddenly shy now?” He sneered. Because, as you had come to learn, Billy Hargrove didn’t know how to tease. He only knew how to taunt.

But still, it was his way of being playful, and you were slowly learning how to speak his language.

“No,” you snapped. “I just prefer having you all to myself…”

Your tone made him grin as he leaned down to catch your lips in a kiss. “There she is.”

“Who?” You asked when he pulled away.

He smirked. “My girl.”

You felt your heart flutter a little bit, a blush spreading across your cheeks. “Yeah, yeah...”

“Thought you were all tough and didn’t care about the staring,” he commented as he threw his arm around your shoulders.

“I just hate the way Carol’s always undressing you with her eyes.” You said matter-of-factly, glaring at the group of girls standing with Tommy H and a few other guys from the basketball team.

Carol and Tina scoffed when you made eye contact, immediately turning away to pretend they hadn’t been watching and imagining themselves exactly where you were. You weren’t looking forward to the next time they caught you in the locker room alone, but at least if one of them swung first, you’d have a good excuse to finish the fight.

Billy looked over at Carol and wrinkled his nose. Yeah, if he didn’t have you around, she’d probably be an easy fuck. Never mind that she was dating Tommy, the guy who loved gassing Billy up and always acted like he wanted to be his friend. Carol would probably jump at the chance to be alone with him, and then sleep with him as her own way of getting back at her parents or her boyfriend or whoever else was pissing her off. Because that’s what Billy was used to—getting physical attention from girls who liked him for his looks and his dick and the fact that he was the wildest thing in a town like Hawkins.

Besides you, it turned out.

And he hadn’t even gotten in your pants yet.

As you walked inside, he glanced down at you. You were always more tired in the morning, always a little sluggish. He thought it was cute. He thought just about everything about you was cute, and it drove him a little crazy knowing that he hadn’t even made a serious move on you yet, and you hadn’t tried to fuck him in the back of the car. He knew you wanted him. He knew you liked having him around, and he knew you liked making out with him. So why weren’t you trying to ride his dick, too? It’s what girls always wanted from him. Some guys, too…even though he’d never hear the end of it from Neil if he got caught with another guy.

But that was an entirely different issue, and he was more interested in you.

Were you scared? …were you a virgin? The thought brought a smirk to his lips. If you were, he wanted to be your first. And your last. And your only. Although you’d probably look real cute with another guy’s dick in your mouth, but as long as Billy was still involved, it didn’t count—

“Earth to Billy? …hello?” You saved your hand in front of his face and he realized that the two of you had reached your locker. “Were you even listening to me?”

“Sorry, babe,” he said smoothly as he leaned up against the lockers next to yours. “Got distracted.”

“By what?” You growled.

“Thinkin’ about how good you’d look on your hands and knees for me.”

You stared at him. You willed your face not to flush, and you just kept your mouth shut as you stared at him.

“Shut up,” you mumbled as you opened your locker, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

“What? You’re so bashful today, doll.” He leered at you.

You rolled your eyes as you pulled a textbook out. “It is eight in the morning, Billy.”

“So?” He grinned. “Why don’t you wanna talk about it?”

“Because I don’t feel like it.” You said, avoiding his handsome face as your own began heating up.

He gasped dramatically. “Princess, are you…a virgin?”

His mocking tone was starting to piss you off, and you suddenly slammed your locker shut before glaring at him. “Fuck off, Hargrove.”

“Oh, that’s it, isn’t it?”

Your nostrils flared angrily as you turned on your heel. “I’m not talking to you!”

“See you at lunch, sweetheart!” He called after you, watching you go with a wolfish grin on his face. Oh, you were a total virgin.

It was cute.

———————

You didn’t feel like explaining to Billy that you were not, in fact, a virgin, but you sat and simmered about it all morning rather than just ignoring your conversation. He was so fucking annoying when he wanted to be, an absolute menace. You had grown used to him, the way he talked and behaved, but even you had your limit.

And besides, why should you want to tell him all about your awkward sexual escapades? None of them mattered. You’d been stupid sophomore year and hooked up with a guy who had no idea what he was doing, and it had left you feeling weird and in pain while he got to go brag to all of his friends. Then, the same thing happened junior year…only that time, the guy had decided to tell the entire world, and in return, you had beaten the shit out of him. So far, your only pleasurable experiences had been a few drunk nights with Robin…and you could only imagine how long Billy would go on and on about that if you told him.

So no, it wasn’t that you were a virgin. It was just that sometimes, when you thought about it for too long, you wished that you still were. It was kind of corny, but you wished your first time had been with someone you actually liked, rather than some dude you never really spoke to again.

Someone like Billy.

You tried to stay focused and not think about it too much. By the time lunch rolled around, though, it was hard not to let your thoughts wander…especially with Billy smirking across the table at you.

And you already knew exactly what was on his mind.

“You know, my brothers would probably kill you just for thinking like that.” You said haughtily, digging a sandwich out of your bag and throwing it at him.

He caught it easily, grinning that stupid grin at you. “Better not let ‘em find out then, huh?”

“You’re insufferable.”

“I seem to recall you kissing me first, doll,” he drawled as he unwrapped his food. “You remember. Down at Lover’s Lake? When you practically jumped me and sucked my face off?”

You rolled your eyes. “We seem to remember things a little differently.”

“Oh? Then why don’t you enlighten me? And don’t leave out any of the juicy details, I wanna hear everything.”

You fixed him with a glare. He had laid a trap, and you had waltzed right on into it. You couldn’t be too mad at him, though, not when his eyes were sparkling like that and the side of his mouth was pulled up in a lopsided grin.

“Actually….” You returned the look, biting your lip. “…I think I might need a reminder.”

“Oh, baby, you sure do speak my language…”

He leaned towards you and you stopped him with a hand in his face. “Take me out for food tonight and then maybe we’ll talk.”

Rather than deflate, Billy actually seemed to make himself look larger, taking your demands as a challenge more than defeat. If nothing else, he was tenacious.

“Deal, babe.” He said before sinking his teeth into the sandwich your mother had so lovingly prepared for him that morning. “I’ll pick you up. Six o’ clock.”

“Fine.” You said. “Six it is.”

And just like he said, Billy Hargrove showed up on your doorstep at six, wearing his leather jacket and a silky red button down that exposed a fair portion of his chest. He had spent the better part of an hour getting ready for you, and yes, he had patted cologne on all the spots that mattered, because he was, of course, hoping that he might get lucky tonight.

He was leaning with his elbow on the frame when he saw the knob twist and the door swing open, but he was greeted by the sight of not you, but one of your brothers instead.

Curtis.

The one who liked him the least.

“Well, well, look what the cat dragged in,” he sneered.

Billy met him with a sharp glare. Curt was definitely the meanest of your brothers, and even though the two of them had managed to share a few laughs in the time since Billy had met your family, Curt still wasn’t a fan of the town bad boy dicking around with his baby sister. Billy couldn’t really blame him; he didn’t even get along with his sister, and he still wanted to chase off any snot nosed kid who looked at her for too long.

“Curtis, who are you glowering at now?” a woman asked.

Her voice had Billy’s glare immediately softening. He loved your mother. He really, really did. He was too afraid to admit how much he liked your family—even with Curt and his constant shitty attitude towards him—but he actually felt at home there, in your little old house next to the auto shop, and a lot of it was due to the way your mother treated him.

“Hello, ma’am,” Billy greeted in his friendliest voice as Curt reluctantly moved out of his way.

“Hello, Billy,” you mom smiled. She was watching from the front hall, seemingly on her way towards the living room, leaning on her forearm crutches as she paused to say hi.

Billy didn’t know exactly why she used them. He had never asked, because even though he could be a total asshole, getting too nosey with the best maternal figure in his life wasn’t something he wanted to do. All he knew came from the few snippets you had told him, things like how she had to stop driving for some reason and how she hated the pitying looks she got at the grocery store. Billy couldn’t really imagine anyone pitying your mother, because it seemed very clear to him that she was very much in charge of your family and so far all of her kids had turned out perfectly fine, but he, much like you and your brothers, would sock a stranger in the jaw if they ever disrespected her.

So, yeah. Billy was a big fan of your mom.

“She’s still upstairs,” she said with a warm smile. “I’m sure Curt would love to make himself useful and go get her. Wouldn’t you, Curt? And no yelling, please. You know Danny is trying to sleep.”

He huffed and gave Billy another glare before jogging up the stairs, finally giving Billy some breathing room. He didn’t hate Curt. He really didn’t. But god, he wanted to get in a fist fight just so they could settle their shit.

“C’mon, hon.” Your mother said, making her way through the doorway to the living room. “She’ll be a minute. She was helping the boys in the shop this afternoon and got a little behind.”

Billy should’ve known that you’d be the one running late.

He followed your mom, sitting down on the couch you had once let him sleep on after a party. She settled into her armchair, reaching for a mug on the side table and taking a sip before smiling appreciatively.

“Hot cocoa,” she said, nodding towards a matching mug on the coffee table. “Made you some, too.”

And, as always, Billy was taken aback by your family’s kindness towards him.

“Thank you, ma’am, but you didn’t have to—“

“Don’t give me that, Billy,” she growled. “You’re a guest in our home. Besides, haven’t you seen my boys? When I make hot cocoa, I have to make gallons of the stuff so they all get enough. There’s plenty to go around.”

That was a theme he had noticed in your house. The table was always covered in food, there was always extra juice at breakfast, and you never seemed to run out of snacks. It wasn’t like his family was totally broke, but the way Neil ran things, he and Susan always seemed more concerned with acting put together rather than actually enjoying things like family dinner time or an extra helping of dessert. In fact, Billy had been on the receiving end of angry words more than once for going for that extra helping.

At your house, though, eating to your heart’s content was encouraged, and the food was always so good that there shouldn’t have ever been leftovers, except somehow there always were, and your mom always insisted that Billy take some home with him.

He picked up the warm mug and the hot cocoa was absolutely delicious. Your mother must have been able to see it in his face as he tasted it, because she chuckled and leaned back in her chair slightly before giving him some lighthearted teasing.

“I thought the California boy might need some hot cocoa to get through our midwestern winters,” she laughed.

“It’s wonderful, ma’am.” He said. “Thank you.”

“There’s no need to thank me,” she smiled. “But I appreciate it nonetheless.”

“Curtis! Get out of my fucking way!” You yelled upstairs.

“No yelling, shrimpy!” Curtis yelled back.

“Will you two shut up? I’m trying to fucking sleep in here!” Danny snarled from his room.

Billy immediately tensed. To him, shouting inside the house meant fighting, and fighting meant that he was about to be shoved up against the wall by two big fists as they grabbed handfuls of his nice shirt. To him, it meant that he had done something wrong, something that he deserved to be punished for even though he didn’t really get what it was. To him, while it was normal, it was a big deal, an event that would have his ribs aching for a while afterwards.

But in your house, it was nothing more than a few siblings, all born fairly close together, who bickered and fought just like any other family. It was just your most annoying brother doing what he did best, and you yelling about it because you were the youngest and the smallest which often meant you had to be the loudest. That was all. You fought with your brothers all the time, but they never hurt you—never on purpose, at least—and they never even said anything very bad.

It made Billy a little jealous.

Your mom saw the way he was suddenly so alert and she sighed. “Never a moment’s peace around here.”

Billy cleared his throat and nodded, trying to cover it all up with his usual attitude. “Seems like.”

“How’s your sister?” She asked, prodding slightly.

“Max?” Billy thought for a moment, looking down at his mug. “…she’s fine, I guess.”

“She’s lucky to have you, you know.”

His eyes snapped up to meet hers. “What?”

“You’re a good boy, Billy.” She reached over, patting his hand. “Max is lucky to have you there to protect her.”

He didn’t know what to say, so he simply stared. Max hated him. And he didn’t like Max very much. He kept an eye on her, sure, because he had to, and because they had been forced to come to terms with their new blended family and forced to admit that neither of them could control their circumstances. Billy had a bad attitude, yeah. So did Max sometimes. And he wanted to keep her safe, he really did, because even though he didn’t like her and she was annoying and always in his way, they were pretty much stuck with each other.

He wished he could be there for her the way your brothers were for you. Even though that meant that they didn’t trust him as far as they could throw him—which, actually, for Kenny might be pretty far—Billy figured that they were right not to. He wouldn’t trust a guy like him around his sister, and he really couldn’t blame these guys for the way they acted sometimes.

Except Curt.

Curt was just an asshole.

Luckily for Billy, you came rushing down the stairs just in time for him to avoid furthering the conversation, and when you appeared in the doorway, he immediately jumped to his feet. You looked perfect, wearing a dress that was a little more than casual but by no means formal, and even after all your scrubbing and fussing, there was still some grease on your arms.

Billy loved that, because it was so you.

“Hey,” you said, smiling at him. “You ready?”

“Are you?” He scoffed, forgetting that your mother was right there for a moment.

You scowled are him. “Yes. I am. And I’m starving, so let’s go.”

He said a hasty goodbye to your mother and she chuckled, watching as you seized Billy’s hand and practically dragged him out the front door. You could see the Camaro sitting there in the driveway next to your Barracuda, its midnight blue exterior appearing almost black as dusk fell.

“Where we goin’, Princess?” Billy asked as he walked around to the passenger side, opening the door for you.

“That little diner in town,” you said as you slipped in. “I’m seriously in the mood for a shake and a greasy burger.”

He shoved the door shut once you were comfortably situated, walking around to the driver’s side and climbing in. As he jammed the key in the ignition and turned it, he lunged for you, finding that you were already waiting with your chin tilted up and your hand reaching for his.

Billy’s kisses were always hungry. Starving, practically, as if his lips crashing against yours was the only thing that could keep him alive. His hand found your thigh and gave it a warm squeeze before drifting to entangle his fingers with yours, brushing the pad of his thumb over your knuckles. It was one of his gentler habits, something small and soft amidst the flames of the wildfire that was Billy Hargrove, and it was something that reminded you that despite all of his rage and bad attitude, he was still just a confused boy who had put up as many walls as possible to keep himself safe.

“I missed you.” He admitted as he pulled away, hand on the gearshift as he backed out of the driveway.

“You saw me just a few hours ago.”

“Doesn’t mean I didn’t miss you.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that one. “You know, you’re kinda sweet, when you wanna be.”

“I’m always sweet.” he grunted as he turned into the road and floored it.

You snorted in amusement. “Sure.”

He gave you a sidelong glance. “Y’know, about this morning...”

You sighed and looked out the window. “You mean when you were being an annoying asshole?”

He scrunched his nose angrily, eyes dark and narrow. “I was not an asshole.”

“Well, you were sure as hell being annoying.” you huffed.

He wanted to yell, or at least stomp away before he got the chance to. But he was trapped in the car with you, and he didn’t really want to shout or swear or blow up, even though that was his first instinct.

“Sweetheart...”

“I’m not a virgin.” you mumbled, cutting him off. “So you can kiss that fantasy of yours goodbye.”

He glanced at you again. Your head was resting on the window, eyes focused on nothing in particular. Billy suddenly felt bad, because he felt like it was his fault that you were so put out now, and he really fucking wished that he could just...be better.

“That doesn’t matter to me.” he said, assuming that you were angry with him because you thought that’s all he cared about.

“But the thing is...I sort of wish I was, because I would way rather my first time be with you.”

His nostrils flared as fresh anger coursed through him. “Who was it?”

“You don’t need to beat anybody up, Billy.”

“I want to.”

“It’s fine.” you sighed, finally looking at him. “Nothing that bad happened. It just...wasn’t great. And I just figure it would be...better...with you.”

He watched you carefully out of the corner of his eye for a moment.

Better.

Yeah.

It would be.

Billy wanted to worship you. He wanted to show you how much you meant to him. He wanted to take as much time as he could with you so that he could do things properly, and when he got the chance--if he got the chance--he fully intended to make you forget all about your past experiences.

“Look, babe.” he cleared his throat. “I won’t lie. I wanted to be your first...but only because I’d do it right.”

You felt heat creeping up your neck and face. “I know you would.”

“Damn straight.” he growled.

“And don’t, uh...don’t beat anybody up. Okay?”

“Why not?” he asked angrily. “If some guy hurt you then I’m gonna--”

“Because I already did.” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “And he didn’t really hurt me, he just went and told literally everybody about it. It just...sucked.”

You could see that Billy was still angry, his grip on the steering wheel tightening until his knuckles were white. “Point him out if you see him.”

“Billy...”

“What?”

“I appreciate it. Really.” you put a hand on his arm. “But it’s not important.”

“It is.”

“Billy.”

“What?”

“It’s been years. And I would rather not think about it.” you gave his bicep a squeeze, your fingers lingering on the sleeve of his leather jacket.

He glanced down at you and you could see a fondness in his eyes, something he never offered anybody else. “I just wanna see you happy, baby.”

You felt your heart skip a beat at his admission. He’d said things along those lines before, but this was the most straightforward he had ever been...or maybe you were just really learning how to speak his language, and if he had said that to anyone else, it wouldn’t have had the same impact. But for you, that was practically a declaration of love, and you could feel it settling in your chest like a warm ball of butterflies.

“I am happy, Billy.”

His lips spread into a lopsided grin--not a smirk, a real grin--and by the look in his eyes, you could guess that if he wasn’t driving a car entirely too quickly down a residential street, his lips would be on yours.

“Good. Now lemme buy you dinner.”

You mirrored his grin. “Yes please. I’m fucking starving.”

-----------

Whenever the two of you went out, which really wasn’t all that often, you received stares. Billy, the bad boy all the way from California, and you, the mechanic’s aggressive daughter, painted a picture that had had Hawkins’ more uptight residents clutching their pearls. It didn’t bother you any more than Carol did, though, and if it got to Billy, he never showed it.

“You got a curfew, Princess?” He asked as he watched you sink your teeth into a cheeseburger.

You shook your head, then paused to swallow. “…I mean, it’s sorta ten, but you know it’s not a big deal. Why? Do you?”

He leaned back, one arm draped over the back of his seat. “Nah. Neil and Susan are gonna be out late.”

At the mention of his father and stepmom, you frowned. “Aren’t they gonna be pissed that you’re out, too?”

“It’s a free country.”

“But shouldn’t you be watching Max?”

Billy rolled his eyes and grabbed his chocolate milkshake. “She’s out with her shitty little friends. She’s fine.”

“Won’t they be mad that—“

“They’re not gonna know,” he said. “How are they gonna know? Are you gonna tell them?”

“What? Shut up.” You scoffed. “I just don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Thanks for the concern, but it’s fine.”

You could tell that it wasn’t, but you dropped it anyway. “How’s your shake?”

“It’s alright.”

“Only alright?”

“Fine. It’s good.”

You grinned. “It’s okay to admit that you like things like shakes, you know. It’s not like it’s embarrassing. Everybody likes them.”

Billy made an annoyed sound and you laughed before taking another bite. You could tell that he was enjoying it. In fact, you could tell that he had quite a sweet tooth, specifically for chocolate, and you thought that it was…well, sweet.

Billy knew he had a thing for chocolate. It was his favorite flavor of soft serve, shakes, and cake. But…his dad loved to crack shitty jokes and make wise comments at Billy’s expense, and it left him a little ashamed. Maybe, if that’s all Neil ever did, Billy would care less, but coupled with everything else he liked to throw at him, it just made Billy want to hide it all.

Not from you, though. He liked sharing chocolate shakes with you, and he didn’t like hiding things, even though he barely knew how to open up.

“How is she?” you asked, trying to get him to keep talking.

“Who?” he grunted.

“Max.”

“Why does everyone care so much?” he growled, shooting you a glare.

You glared back at him, ever stubborn. “It’s just a question, Billy.”

“You’ve never even actually met her.” he grumbled, returning to his shake as if it would save him.

“No, but I mean...I could,” you suggested.

His glare only hardened. “She’s an annoying little sister with a bad attitude who makes my life harder. That’s all there is to it. She’s got annoying friends and annoying hobbies and--”

“Billy.”

“What?”

“You know that I know what it’s like to have annoying siblings,” you laughed. “I mean, Curt tried to throw me down the stairs this morning.”

“So?”

“So I bet Max isn’t all that bad,” you shrugged. “And I bet she doesn’t hate you as much as you always say she does.”

“Then why’s she always being a little shit and getting me in trouble?” He snapped, folding his arms over his chest and leaning back against the back of the booth.

You frowned. “Because she’s a little sister, and she probably doesn’t realize what she’s doing. I’m sure she cares about you—“

Billy scoffed. “If she cared, then she’d stop finding new ways to get him pissed off at me.”

You closed your mouth and let his words simmer. You didn’t need to ask to know that he was talking about his dad, and you weren’t about to pretend that you were an expert on Billy’s family. In fact, he kept you as in the dark about it as possible, avoiding the subject whenever it came up, and you couldn’t really blame him. Nothing that you knew about Neil made him sound like a good guy, much less a good father…but Max was just a kid having a hard time, not totally unlike Billy.

You decided to change the subject. “Soooo…Valentine’s Day is coming up.”

“What about it?” Billy asked, even though he was very aware.

“Well, I was wondering if you wanted to do anything.”

“Isn’t the guy supposed to be asking the girl out?” He asked.

“Well the guy is taking too long,” you growled.

That managed to pull a chuckle out of him and he sat up again, elbows on the table as he leaned towards you. “Maybe the girl is just bein’ too impatient.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes, something that Billy Hargrove made you do a lot. “I don’t think I am. I’ve never really had a Valentine, though, so I guess I don’t—“

“You haven’t?” He asked, actually looking surprised. “Sweetheart, you should have guys linin’ up to ask you out.”

“Nope. Just you.” You sighed. “Not that that’s a bad thing, though, you’re more than enough—“

“Less competition.” He grinned, grabbing his straw in between his teeth and finishing his milkshake. “You wanna get outta here, baby?”

“…you didn’t answer me—“

“Don’t worry about it, Princess.” He started to stand, pulling some cash out of his pocket and tossing it onto the table.

“…whatever you say, Billy.” You grabbed the rest of your burger, holding it in one hand to finish as you walked out while Billy slung an arm around your shoulders.

You knew the two of you looked like troublemakers, maybe even more than usual as Billy lit a cigarette and an old lady practically jumped away as you passed her. You really didn’t care, though; in a town like Hawkins, where everybody knew everybody, you couldn’t avoid the stares and the rumors.

So you didn’t bother trying to. You just got in the car, talking about normal, benign things while Billy drove out to the lake, and then you both climbed into the backseat and he kissed you so gently that you could tell he was holding himself back.

“It’s okay,” you murmured, fingers clinging to his red shirt as he hovered over you. “You can do more.”

“Baby…” he groaned against your collarbone, “I don’t wanna fuck up with you…”

“You won’t,” you smiled, tilting your head back against the seat. “I promise.”

You could feel his grip on your waist tighten and then the windows were steaming up and your dress was bunched up around your hips while Billy showed you that his mouth was good for way more than just talking. Your face was flushed as he looked up at you, your fingers tangled in his curly hair, and he knew that he could stay there for hours if you let him. Because you were the best thing that had ever come stomping into his life, and he was determined to show you that.

———————

Try as Billy might to discourage you from meeting his sister, Hawkins was too small a place not to bump into her eventually. It was only a few days later, in fact, when you spotted a red headed girl standing near the Camaro impatiently, and with Billy preoccupied with basketball practice, you knew this was your chance.

“Hey!” You called, jogging towards her. “You’re Max, right?”

“…yeah,” she said, looking you over warily. “Who the hell are you?”

“Oh, I’m—“

“Forget it, I know who you are.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re always with Billy.”

“…yeah, I guess I am.” You leaned against your car as you looked at her. Maybe Billy was right about her attitude. “Are you waiting for him?”

She sighed and held up her skateboard. “Yeah. Can’t exactly get very far when the roads are all gross and slushy like this.”

You smirked. “Yeah, the Midwest isn’t exactly great in the winter. But, uh…I can give you a ride, if you don’t feel like waiting. It’s kind of shitty out.”

Max stared at you for a moment, as if she couldn’t bring herself to trust someone that hung around her brother so much. But the weather really was shitty, and it looked like it was going to start sleeting or something, and she really didn’t want to deal with Billy.

“…okay. Fine.” She decided, looking at your car. “You don’t drive like him, do you?”

“With you in the car? No way.” You snorted, walking around to the driver’s side door. “With him? Maybe.”

Max cracked a smile and climbed in, and soon, the two of you were actually chatting and laughing, and you were finding that Max Mayfield really wasn’t that bad. Maybe it was because Billy wasn’t around, or maybe it was just because you were a girl, but Max was actually almost friendly, and you were starting to feel a little bit hopeful that you could have a good relationship with her even if Billy couldn’t.

“Turn here.” she said as you approached a street sign that read Cherry Ln.

You did as she instructed and turned slowly, the Barracuda rumbling as you crept up the street. The houses on Cherry Lane were small, and to some Hawkins families, it wasn’t a great place. Some of the residences tended to look a little rundown, a little in need of love, and compared to places like the Harrington house...well, actually, they couldn’t compare at all. Cherry Lane just wasn’t a spectacular place, and that was that.

“It’s up here. 4819.” Max said. “You can let me out here. I’ll walk.”

You glanced at her. “Why? I can pull into the driveway--”

“Because if my mom or Neil are home, they’ll see that Billy didn’t give me a ride.” she said, looking down. “And he was supposed to.”

“...oh. Right.” you cleared your throat as you hit the brakes as gently as you could. “Well, this is your stop, then.”

“Thanks.” she mumbled as she grabbed her bag and skateboard.

“No problem,” you said, watching as she climbed out and started up the road. You couldn’t see any cars in the driveway at 4819, but you weren’t about to take the chance. It hadn’t even occurred to you that you could be getting Billy into more trouble, and you hated the idea that you had the potential to cause him more pain at the hands of his dad.

As you drove home, you hoped that Billy would make it home before his parents did...and as luck would have it, he did, and until Max mentioned exactly who had given her a ride, he was seriously pissed off at her. The universe was on his side, though, because there was no sign of Susan or Neil.

There was no sign of Susan or Neil because, as it turned out, Susan was still at work, and Neil was busy arguing with a mechanic.

A mechanic you happened to know very well.

When you pulled up to your house and hopped out of the car, you could see that there was a customer in the shop. That was pretty normal. Someone coming to pick up their car--even yelling about it--was something that came with the territory of working on cars. You had come home from school only to chat with the Wheelers or the Harringtons or Byers plenty of times. This time, though, as you walked up to the garage, you didn’t recognize the customer’s voice. That also wasn’t super strange; while Hawkins was small, there were tons of people you didn’t interact with, and you weren’t exactly a social butterfly.

“What the hell do you mean you don’t have the goddamn parts?” a man asked, his voice raised to a level just below yelling.

As you slipped into the shop, you saw a middle aged man standing near the desk, your father and Kenny just on the other side of it. When you glanced around, you spotted Danny and Curt working on cars…but when you looked closer, you realized that they were paying way more attention to this customer than their work, and that was…weird.

The customer was kind of a big guy. Not bigger than your brothers or your dad, though, but his shoulders were broad and he held himself with a very square posture in an effort to seem larger than he was. It would have made you laugh if you weren’t so put off by him.

“They’re on the way.” Your father said as politely as he possibly could, his voice somewhat strained. “Should be in by the end of the week. We’ll give you a call.”

“You know damn well that’s not good enough,” the man growled. “I bring my car to you, I expect service, not waiting an entire extra week for parts that you should have on hand.”

“Unless you wanna go all the way to the factory and walk ‘em back yourself, I suggest you sit tight, Mr. Hargrove.” Kenny growled back.

Your eyes widened.

“I wasn’t talking to you, boy.”

Your eyes widened even more.

You heard the clatter of metal on concrete and glanced over to see that Curt had dropped a wrench. He and Danny were both straightening up, glaring daggers at Billy’s father, and you finally understood why they had been so interested in what should have been a boring conversation.

“Neil, your car is fine to be driven. Your parts will be in in a few days, and we’ll take care of everything then.” You dad said.

“Did you not hear what I goddamn said?” Neil snapped. “That’s not good enough—“

Despite the fact that this was Neil Hargrove, despite the fact that this was the guy who abused your best-friend-maybe-boyfriend, despite the fact that he was bigger than you and louder than you and scarier than you…you cleared your throat.

Everyone turned to look at you. Your dad looked exasperated. Your brothers looked concerned. And Neil looked pissed off.

“Mr. Hargrove,” you piped up, gripping the strap of your backpack tightly, “there’s nothing else you can do about it right now. Yelling won’t get anyone anywhere.”

You could see his face growing red, but instead of scaring you, it just made you angrier.

“Don’t interrupt when the men are talking,” he snapped.

You felt like you had just been slapped in the face. Maybe you were being foolish, or maybe you were simply blinded by your anger, but you wanted to punch him in the nose more than anything. Before you could, though, Danny was dragging you back out the door, and you were resisting with all your might.

“Hey! What’s your problem?” You asked angrily, digging your heels into the gravel as he pulled you towards the house.

“Would you chill out for a second?” He asked.

“How can you ask me to chill out when that’s—“

“Billy’s dad.” Danny stopped and sighed. “I know.”

“So you see why I can’t just—“

“Hey.” He gave you a serious look. “Stay out of it. For real. He’s a dick, but he’s still a customer. Dad ‘n Kenny’ll take care of it.”

As much as you wanted to argue, you were really starting to run out of the footing for it. “…yeah. Fine.”

“I’ll come get you when he’s gone. Deal?”

“Deal.” You grumbled.

“Good.” Danny nodded.

You slunk into the house, saying hi to your mom before sinking down into a chair at the kitchen table. You had finally met Neil Hargrove, and he was just as bad as you had heard.

And that’s how he acted in public.

If you didn’t already have an idea of what he was like at home with Billy, you didn’t think you’d be able to imagine it. Neil was a raging douchebag, and in the five seconds he had paid attention to you, you had seen how little he thought of what he saw. Billy had told you snippets, mentioning how his dad thought that surfing and conditioner were for fags and things like cooking and cleaning were women’s work, but actually seeing and hearing the man in person was on an entirely new level.

Your mom tried to make small talk, but all you could think about was breaking Neil Hargrove’s nose. Was that illegal? You’d catch an assault charge if it meant he would fuck off and leave Billy alone. And it would be worth it to see the look on Neil’s face when a girl fought back like that. Wasn’t that the right thing to do? It’s how you always solved your other problems, so why not this one?

…because it might make things worse. You knew that. But at some point, didn’t somebody have to stand up to the bully? You knew Neil was bad. He was probably even worse than you’d heard, if Billy, who was so tough, was scared of him. But Billy was his kid, and you weren’t. You were stupid and angry and you rarely lost a fight, so a big part of you was confident that you could win against Neil.

You considered telling someone. Who could you go to, though? Your family already had some idea, just because of the way Billy always acted around them, but it’s not like they could do that much. Could they? …could anybody? It wasn’t uncommon for dads to be rough with their sons in a town like Hawkins. You figured even if you called the sheriff, there wouldn’t be that much to be done…and Billy would hate it if you did. He would probably hate hearing that you had a run in with his father, too..but that wasn’t your fault. Would it make things worse for Billy, though? …did Neil even know who you were? He didn’t, right?

As the table was set around you and your mom put out some leftovers for dinner, you didn’t budge. You were busy wishing that you had a way to fix things and get Billy away from his dad. Was it your business? Were you trying to intervene in something you shouldn’t? You sort of felt like the moment you helped Billy climb through your window it had become your business, and you weren’t about to back down now.

“God, that guy sucked,” Curt complained as he sat down across from you.

“Curtis, that’s rude,” you mother chastised, taking her own seat again.

“No, I mean it this time.” Curt said. He reached for a drumstick and tore into it, speaking with his mouth full of chicken. “He was all pissin’ and moanin’ because he can’t wait a week for parts we don’t have.”

“It was Billy’s dad.” You spoke up, leaning on your hand as you stared at your empty plate.

“…ah.” You couldn’t see the way that your mom’s usually pleasant expression turned hard.

“I feel bad for the guy,” Curt admitted. “I mean, i see why he’s so pissed off all the time. His dad’s a fuckin’ nightmare.”

“He wouldn’t want you talking about him like that,” you sighed.

“Doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

Yeah, you thought. It sure is true.

“I’m guessing that’s why a certain someone came storming in here.” Your mother said, looking towards you.

“She tried tellin’ him off,” Curt said.

“What was I supposed to do?” You asked, finally looking up. “He was being a dick and he wouldn’t shut up. I mean, it’s obvious he’s got control issues, and he totally hates women—“

“Yeah, that’s why Danny dragged you outta there,” Curt interrupted. “So things wouldn’t get worse.”

You sat back in your chair, grumbling. “I just think somebody should teach him a lesson.”

————————

The next morning, rather than his usual greeting, Billy gave you a harsh glare as he waited for you to get out of your car.

“Good morning to you too,” you said, shutting the door behind you.

“What’s your problem?” He snapped.

“Is this about Max?” You asked, rolling your eyes. “She needed a ride, Billy. I wasn’t about to leave her standing out here in the cold.” Then, you softened your tone. “You didn’t get in trouble, did you?”

His eyes softened slightly, too. “…no. Max didn’t say anything. Susan was still at work when I got home. But Neil…”

You cleared your throat and stood a little taller. “What about him?”

Billy looked down, reaching for your hand and taking it in his. “…practically ripped the front door off its hinges. Came home ranting and shouting about the shitty mechanic and his shitty kids. Especially the girl.”

You could feel anger bubbling up inside your chest. “Your father can kiss my ass.”

He looked back up at you. “I don’t want you talking to him. I don’t want him to even fucking look at you. You understand?”

“I understand that I hate his fucking guts,” you spat. “He can’t go around acting like he’s king of the fucking world. If he can’t even handle a girl telling him to shut up and calm down, then that’s not my problem.”

“Then he’ll make it your problem,” Billy said, voice raised. “Do you fucking get what I’m trying to tell you? Don’t talk to him. Don’t interact with him. I want you to stay as far away from him as possible. And don’t pull your tough guy act with me, Princess.”

“Why not?” You asked stubbornly.

“Because my dad’s not above hitting a woman.”

His words stung. They were as harsh as his glare, scathing, even. But as they sank in, you found yourself uncovering another piece of the Billy Hargrove puzzle, because judging by the look in his eyes, he’d seen Neil hit women before.

And you could guess at least one of them was Billy’s mom.

“…right. I’m sorry.” You tugged on his hand gently, pulling him towards you. “But…do you think we could talk about this? For real?”

Billy wrapped his arms around you, pulling you up against his chest as he mulled it over. He wanted to talk. More than anything. He wanted to tell you about every detail of his life, from his childhood back on the beach to how his morning drive was. But…could he manage that? He knew that you deserved to know everything, and he knew that he trusted you. Because he did. He actually did trust you. But he had never said so many of the words he wanted to, never in his entire life, and he was afraid of saying them out loud.

“…we can try.” He decided.

And that was good enough for you.

“He was a total asshole.” You said as Billy took your bag and slung it over his shoulder. “I mean, he was practically throwing a tantrum over parts he could have ordered himself if he knew what he was doing.”

“…sounds right,” Billy muttered under his breath.

“And he wouldn’t even let Kenny talk. God, he’s such a dick…he called me girl. He’s such a misogynist. I don’t understand how he hasn’t been laid out on the concrete by now.”

“As much as I love the thought, I wanna hear you talk about somethin’ nicer, sweetheart.” Billy said.

It was just about the closest he had ever come to admitting that the topic made him uncomfortable, especially in a public setting, and the sincerity of it had you keeping your mouth shut for a few seconds while you tried to change the subject.

“…I’m failing math.”

“That’s more like it.”

———————————

It went without saying that Billy spent more time at your house than you did at his. In fact, apart from knowing the address, you knew absolutely nothing about the Hargrove residence…and Billy wanted to keep it that way. He always picked you up for dates, he always snuck in through your window, and he always grabbed breakfast with your family when it was an option. Never the other way around.

You knew that he had good reason for it. After seeing Neil Hargrove in the flesh, you didn’t really want to inhabit the same room as him for very long…unless it was because you were beating the shit out of him. Giving him a taste of his own medicine seemed fair, you reasoned, and while Billy changed the subject whenever his father came up in conversation, you were pretty confident that he wouldn’t mind you breaking Neil’s nose. Or…maybe he would. The guy was still his dad, after all. It was easy for you to tell him that he should just move into your house and leave his family behind, but for Billy, who always avoided talking about it, you suspected it was a bit more complicated.

“I hate him.” He mumbled into your chest one night, a week before Valentine’s Day. “So fucking much.”

“I know, baby.” You murmured, hand rubbing circles against his back as he laid on you.

His head was resting on your boobs, one arm wrapped around your waist while the rest of his body laid on your bed. It was midnight, and Billy had woken you up right after you’d managed to fall asleep. When you turned your lamp on, insisting on doing so even though Billy tried to stop you, you didn’t see any black eyes or split lips like part of you was expecting; instead, you saw only his tired, teary eyes, and you were once again struck by how small and vulnerable he looked. During the day, he was fire and rage, like a caged lion. At night, in your arms, he was broken, and you just hoped you could give him a safe enough place to glue the pieces of himself together again.

“Wanna talk about it?” You asked.

Billy was quiet, hesitating for a moment as he thought. “…alright.”

Well, he wasn’t giving you much, but it was the closest he’d gotten so far. “What happened?”

“…Max ran off again.” He heaved a sigh that you could feel throughout your whole body.

“She does that a lot, I’ve noticed.”

“Yeah. Back in California, before we moved, she actually got pretty far once. Cops grabbed her just before she hopped on a bus.” He shifted, resting his cheek on your chest instead of burying his entire face in it. “They blamed me for it.”

“Why?” You scoffed. “It’s not like it’s your fault.”

“Respect and responsibility,” he spat. “I’m older. I’m supposed to keep her safe. I can’t fucking do that when she’s runnin’ around the entire fucking town with Harrington and those other little shits.”

“Why are you two at such odds with each other?” You asked. “I know neither of you asked for this whole family thing, but…I dunno. Feels like it would be easier if you could work together.”

“…we didn’t ask to be stuck with each other and I didn’t ask for a new fucking mother.” Billy growled.

And then it dawned on you.

He never spoke about his mom.

You sat up a little straighter, trying to pull him with you. “Can I, uh…” you cleared your throat. “Can I ask what happened?”

Billy was quiet again. He was staring up at you, brilliant blue eyes alight with cold flames. You wished you knew what was going through his head.

“She left me.” He admitted, looking away.

“What?” You asked. “She just…abandoned you?”

He winced and closed his eyes, and you felt your heart break.

“They weren’t happy. He got worse. So she just…up and left.” He turned his head again and his voice became muffled by your shirt. “I miss her so fucking much.”

Your fingers found his hair and you ran them through it. “How old were you?”

“Not that old.” He mumbled. Then, he managed to move again, resting his cheek against your collarbone as he stared at the wall. “We used to go to the beach together. She’d wear these dresses she always loved and she’d teach me to surf. I’d stay out there all day while she picked out shells or just watched…she fucking loved the ocean.”

“She sounds nice.”

“Yeah.” He let out another massive sigh, practically deflating on top of you. “We would go to this real quiet beach. It was like our special place. But my dad didn’t like me surfing. Said it’s for pussies. The older I got, the more he’d say shit like that.”

“That’s fucking stupid.” You said.

“I don’t even like basketball.” He admitted. “I just like winning.”

“Is that why you’re so good at it?” You grinned, trying to lighten the atmosphere a little. “I mean, you totally humiliate Steve Harrington whenever you play. You’re like, the best on the team.”

He snorted a laugh. “Guess i practice hard because I hope it’ll make me like it. Hasn’t really worked yet.”

“…oh.” You frowned. “…there’s not much in the way of beaches around here…I guess you can kinda surf on Lake Michigan sometimes, but it wouldn’t be the same…”

“I gotta get back to California.” He said.

“Is that your plan?” You asked. “After graduation?”

“Yeah. I mean…it was.” He glanced up at you. “You could come.”

Your heart leapt. “I’ve never been to the west coast at all.”

“I’ll take you. I’ll work. Get some money. Then we can go.”

He sounded so desperate, so sincere, that you knew he believed it could happen. “…maybe. We’ll see.”

“You’d love California, Princess.” He said.

“I’d only go if you promised to teach me to surf.”

He looked at you. “…deal.”

You smiled and grabbed his arm, tugging on him. He got the hint and pushed himself up, crawling over you until he could lean his forehead against yours. His arms were caging you in, his body hovering over yours in a suggestive way that was anything but. This was more like the Billy you saw during the day—protective, big, strong. He was still so soft, though, far from the prickly and easily angered guy he was in front of Tommy and Carol.

This was your Billy.

Your hands slipped around the back of his neck to tangle in his hair. He smelled so good, like him, and he was so warm you wanted to curl up and sleep. He was so still. So calm. So quiet. The rage was gone for the night, leaving in its wake a tired, emotionally exhausted boy who didn’t know what to do with himself.

“You spending the night?” You asked.

“…yeah.” He rolled to the side, the bed bouncing gently under his weight. “If that’s cool.”

“Of course,” you said as you reached to turn the lamp off. “I like sleeping with you.”

“You haven’t even tried that yet,” he grinned, grabbing your hip and pulling you back against him.

“…i like sleeping next to you.”

“I think you’d like the other version more…”

You wiggled back into him, smiling to yourself as you felt his chest on your back. His hand was soft, holding you gently as he pressed a kiss against your neck. He was eager, and you knew that his flirting was more than just pretty words. But at the same time, you got the feeling that he wasn’t hoping for anything more than a night of cuddling. Because even though he refused to admit it, Billy Hargrove was a sucker for a warm embrace and a quiet, cozy bed.

“I wanna stay like this forever.” You sighed.

“Yeah.” Billy said, laying his head down on your pillow and burying his face in the back of your neck. “Me too.”

You couldn’t stay like that forever, but you could at least stay there until morning. Billy was back out the window before dawn, giving you a long kiss before setting off. Sometimes he drove to see you, but more often than not, he walked across Hawkins, using it as a chance to think.

You always watched him go, leaning in your open window and wishing he could stay. Sometimes, he left things for you—a shirt, an earring—but this morning, you were left with nothing but his fading scent as you climbed back into bed. It wasn’t enough, but it was all you had, so you buried your face in your pillow and pulled the sheets as tightly around yourself as you could before drifting off.

When you woke again, your hand brushed something cold. There, between the sheets, was the gold chain he always wore around his neck, and you knew he hadn’t left it on purpose. He always wore it, almost never taking it off, and upon closer inspection, you saw that the clasp had simply come undone. Nothing was broken, at least…but you needed to get it back to him before he realized and got pissed off, which, knowing Billy, would probably happen before noon.

Unfortunately, it was Saturday, which meant you wouldn’t be able to just meet him at Hawkins High and give it to him then. Unless he randomly appeared at your place over the weekend, he’d be waiting until Monday…and he wasn’t exactly known for his patience. You could imagine him irritated and stressed about it, and it would just be one more layer added to his problems. Of course, you could alleviate that by simply going to his place to drop it off…

…but it was Saturday morning. Which meant that there was a good chance his parents were home.

You sat up, holding the chain in your hand as you mulled it over. This was perfectly innocent. All you wanted to do was bring his jewelry back to him. It was a nice chain, too nice for you to be holding on to for very long. You didn’t trust yourself—or your brothers—not to break it somehow on accident. And besides, were you really afraid of Neil Hargrove?

No.

You weren’t.

Maybe you should have been, but you weren’t. As you got out of bed and changed out of your pajamas, you felt like you were on a mission, and after a quick breakfast, you were running to the car with Billy’s chain safely tucked away in your pocket.

“Excuse me, missy.” Something suddenly caught you by the hood of your jacket, yanking you back violently. “Where’re you going so early on a Saturday?”

You twisted to see your brother. “Fuck off, Curt.”

“Not til you tell me.”

You squirmed, struggling helplessly in his grip. “…fine. Billy left something here and I’m going to return it. Happy?”

“…you’re going to his place?” Curt asked.

“Is that not what I just—“

“I call shotgun.”

He let you go with a shove, stepping around you as he walked off towards the Barracuda. You were left staring after him in shock for a few seconds before you sprinted to catch up, just barely beating him to the car and hopping in before he could.

“Get out.” You said as you slammed your door.

He was making himself comfortable in the passenger seat, already grabbing for his seatbelt. “No way, shrimp. You’re not going there without backup.”

“Who said anything about needing backup?”

He gave you a skeptical look. “I’ve known you almost two decades now. You think I can’t tell when my baby sister is planning something stupid?”

“I don’t need your help, Curt.” You growled, starting the car.

“Would you just shut up and drive?” He snapped. “Look, I know you’re about to go knock on that front door and try to fist fight Neil Hargrove. Hell, I’d like to see you land a hit or two on that asshole, especially since we finally got his car taken care of and he’s out of the shop. But I’m not about to let you go there all alone, dipshit.”

“I won’t be alone,” you argued as you pulled out onto the street. “Billy will be there.”

“Billy is scared shitless of that man,” Curt said. “You think I can’t see that? I can’t even blame him. If Dad acted like that, we’d all be way more fucked up, too. There was this guy I graduated with, name was Frank, ‘n his old man was a hard ass too—“

Your brother continued but you were zoning out as you drove. It was nice to have him along for the ride, even if he was your most annoying sibling, and as you drew closer and closer to Cherry Lane, you were growing more and more glad that he had decided to come along.

This time, you pulled right up to the house. If anybody inside was near a window, you were sure they’d be able to hear the rumble of the engine. For a moment, you considered running—Billy could wait a couple days, couldn’t he?—but then you thought about how badly you wanted to give Neil Hargrove a piece of your mind, and you steeled yourself.

“Don’t start anything,” Curt warned as you opened your door.

“I won’t.” You said. “Promise.”

He stayed in the car, keeping an eye on you as you marched up to the house. It was almost hard to believe that Billy lived in something so normal, though you figured he probably wasn’t very fond of it. As you reached out to knock on the door, you hoped that he was awake, because seeing his face would make this a lot better than not.

Billy was awake, just barely. He had made it back through his bedroom window before anyone could notice his absence and had managed to doze off, but at the sound of someone banging on the front door, he was groggily sitting up.

At the sound of Neil saying “Who the hell—you.”, Billy was on high alert.

And at the muffled sound of a feminine voice that he recognized instantly, he was up on his feet, grabbing a pair of sweats and a tank, and exiting his bedroom as quickly and as quietly as he could.

“—I just wanted to swing by and give Billy something he dropped at school yesterday,” you half-lied, hands held behind your back as you tried to look as innocent as possible.

Neil wasn’t buying it.

“How the hell do you know where he lives?” Neil growled. “Been here before?”

Your eye twitched and your hands tightened into fists behind your back, but you reminded yourself that you had literally just promised not to start a fight, and did what you could to swallow your anger.

“It’s a small town.” you shrugged. “Everybody knows where everybody lives.”

Neil leaned forward slightly, trying to make himself seem larger. He was a big guy, he really was--he took up the entire doorway, and you could see that Billy got his broad shoulders from his father--but you were determined not to show fear. If you did, then he’d think he could push you around. And he absolutely could not.

“What exactly did my boy drop that was so important you needed to hand deliver it?” he asked, hand still on the door as if he was prepared to slam it shut at any moment.

“…is he home?” You asked. “I would rather just give it to him directly if that’s cool.”

“You can give it to me.”

You did your best not to make a face. “Mr. Hargrove, I would really rather—“

“Give it to me.” He interrupted, holding his hand out. “Now.”

Your already short fuse had just about burnt out. As your eyes flicked down to his expectant palm, you felt more annoyed than you had in a long, long time, and when you met his gaze once more, your peaceful and reasonable facade had already dropped.

“Mr. Hargrove,” you growled, “I’m gonna ask again. Is Billy home?”

The tone in your voice shocked both Billy and his father. For Neil, it was rage inducing, but for Billy, it was awe inspiring…and worrying. He felt frozen in place, unable to take even a single step towards the door. He could feel himself shutting down as his father’s demeanor grew more tense, but at the same time, Billy was desperate to get to you, because he knew what Neil was capable of and you didn’t.

Somehow, he willed his legs to move, and you suddenly saw him appear just behind his father. Your gaze softened at the sight of him, and you half smiled.

“Hey.” You said, looking past Neil as you finally pulled out the necklace that has started all this. “You left this.”

Those three simple, innocent words made Neil Hargrove snap.

He looked back to see Billy standing there, looking like a deer in the headlights with those big, wide eyes that Neil hated but you loved. Then, Neil looked back towards you, and he was even angrier than he had been when his car was in the shop.

“You’re one of his fucking whores, aren’t you?” He sneered. “I shoulda known. He always did know how to pick ‘em. Get the fuck off my property.”

“But I didn’t—“

“You think I fucking care if he gets that stupid chain back?” Neil scoffed. “You ask me, he’s better off without that faggot shit.”

Billy winced, a movement that did not go unnoticed by you.

“Before I go, can I ask you something, Mr. Hargrove?” You said, eyes still on Billy as you put the necklace back in your pocket.

You were vaguely aware of Neil grunting in response. Your focus shifted back to him.

“…why the hell are you such a bully?”

Billy’s eyes widened in alarm at the same time as Neil’s narrowed in anger.

“Excuse me?” The latter snarled.

“You heard me.” You said, voice raised, mustering as much of that brazen, stupid courage as you could. “You’re a big fucking bully and you always have been and you always will be.”

“You’ve got a lotta nerve—“

“I do!” You snapped, glaring up at him so harshly that he should have crumbled into dust. “I do have a lotta nerve because I’m sick and tired of the way that you beat the shit out of the only son you have!”

Neil’s expression was darkening like storm clouds. “He went crying to you?”

“He didn’t have to.” You sneered.

Billy could see the way his father’s arms were flexing and it threw him into a panic. He recognized the movement. He could see the signs. Neil was deciding whether or not he should beat the tar out of you, whether or not it was worth being known as the guy who beat the mechanic’s daughter.

You could see it, too, only you didn’t panic.

“You put one fucking hand on me and I’ll knock every last tooth out of your ugly skull.” You spat.

Billy couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but he didn’t have time to worry about that, because Neil was starting to move and Billy had to do something.

“Hey!” He finally barked, seizing a fistful of his father’s shirt and yanking him back.

It was the last thing Neil expected, and he lost his grip on the door as he stumbled backwards. Billy took the opportunity to slip past him, standing with his back to you as if it was his job to act as a shield, and by the time Neil collected himself enough to circle back, you were already trying to wiggle around Billy to get at least one good shot in.

Neil ignored you, though. That might have been the worst part, that he actually ignored you and went for Billy instead, grabbing a handful of his shirt and pulling him forward. With Billy, he didn’t have to consider whether or not hitting him was a good idea. With Billy, everything was on the table.

And Billy was bracing himself, because he was prepared to take whatever his father threw at him.

“This is the kinda shit you’ve been hanging around with?” Neil hissed in his son’s face. “What happened to that respect and responsibility we talked about, son?”

“Leave her alone.” Billy managed to say, jaw clenched.

“Yeah? Or what?”

“Or you’re gonna have a lot more to deal with than just her.” A new voice growled from behind you.

You already knew it was Curt intervening before things could get worse, but Billy had to twist his head to look back. When he saw who was standing there, he was surprised, because Curtis was the last person he ever expected to come to his rescue.

Something in your brother’s expression must have been enough to seriously worry Neil, because his grip on Billy loosened and he let him go with a rough shove.

“Get out of my fucking sight.”

“With pleasure.” Billy sneered, staring him down.

“Come on.” You mumbled, grabbing his wrist and tugging him off the porch.

As you led him to the car, Billy felt himself starting to lose it.

When the doors had shut and the three of you were driving away, he lost it.

“What the hell is wrong with you two?” He shouted, tears blurring the edges of his eyes.

“Don’t look at me,” Curt growled as he drove.

“Neil started it.” You grumbled, folding your arms over your chest and slumping down. “He’s such a dick, I can’t believe—“

“How the hell do you expect me to go back there now? Huh?” Billy yelled, voice cracking and shaking in a way you had never heard before. “Did you even fucking think about that? That I fucking live there? You know what you just did? You just made that house a living hell for me!”

You suddenly felt a pit forming in your stomach. “…oh…”

“See? You didn’t think. You didn’t listen to me. I told you to stay away from him and instead you do—do—whatever the hell that was!”

“Hey!” Curt snapped. “Would you can it for a second?”

“And why the hell are you here?” Billy asked. “You don’t even fucking like me—“

“Don’t put words in my mouth!” Your brother suddenly slammed the brakes, then turned to glare at Billy. “Look. You’re not goin’ back there. Not without one of us around. Got it?”

Billy’s lip curled up in a sneer. “Stay out of my business—“

“I’m not finished.” He growled. “You’re stayin’ away for a couple days. Minimum. And don’t say that I don’t fucking like you when I just tagged along on this stupid ride to make sure you both came out of it in one piece.”

Billy wasn’t sure what to say. That was probably the nicest think Curt, your grumpiest brother, had ever said to him, and as he continued mumbling and swearing to himself, he seemed genuine.

You, however, seemed guilty.

“Billy…”

“No.” He sighed, leaning his head back, “no. Thanks.”

“…for what?”

He ran a hand through his hair and let out a laugh, releasing some of his nervousness now that he could maybe begin calming down. “I’ve never seen anybody talk to him like that.”

“She’s tough as nails,” Curt piped up as he drove off again.

“I know.” Billy sighed. “I definitely know.”

————————

“Hey, handsome. You ready?”

Billy grinned at you. “Shouldn’t i be asking you that, Princess?”

You smiled up at him. He was wearing his favorite red dress shirt and a nice pair of jeans, an earring dangling from his ear lobe and his gold chain visible around his neck. It was finally Valentines Day, and it was time for Billy to show you what he’d been planning.

“I guess so,” you smiled as he took your hand and led you toward the door. “But I am.”

“Then let’s fuckin’ go already.”

His Camaro was waiting outside, just as it had been almost every day since the Neil incident. Just like Curt had ordered, Billy had been staying on your couch—and in your bed, once everyone else was asleep—and far away from his house for the last several days, only stopping there to get things that he needed and check up on Max. So far, Neil wasn’t aiming his anger towards her, but neither you nor Billy were convinced that it would stay that way forever.

Billy was happy living on your couch, though. Sure, there were a lot of awkward things about it—like knowing your brothers were constantly around and having to cover for them whenever they snuck girls home—but compared to living with his dad, it was heaven.

A heaven that paid, even.

Your dad had Billy helping out in the garage after school, and he was a fast learner. He gave him a little cash under the table, too, and tonight, as Billy pulled into one of Hawkins’ nicest restaurants, you finally saw what he was planning on spending it all on.

“Oh, Billy,” you said as he took your hand and led you inside, “this is too nice. No way.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Billy said in that taunting way that you knew was loving, “my girl deserves the best. ‘N pretty soon, you’ll be eating like this every night. Watch.”

“You know, I’m perfectly fine with burgers and shakes, too,” you laughed.

He stopped just outside the door, smiling down at you. “I know, doll. But lemme spoil you, just for tonight. Yeah?”

You bit your lip, grinning up at him. “…yeah.”

And he took your face in his hands and leaned down to kiss you, and you twisted your fingers into his curls, and you admitted to yourself that you loved, you fucking loved, the glorious mess that was Billy Hargrove.

#cherry bomb #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove

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