#i’m tired and the only thing occupying my mind is billy

[tundrrra]

did ppl just gloss over the fact that billy’s literal last words were an apology? like what more do you want from him? just let him be dead in peace at least, my god

#i’m tired and the only thing occupying my mind is billy #i am still angry tho #again i’m tired #goodnigth #billy hargrove #hargrove mayfield siblings #harringrove

[uvobreakmylegs]

Detour

I’m excited that it’s fall but i’m also sad that i won’t be able to swim anymore

Warnings: death, graphic depictions of violence, creepy behavior, groping, mentions of smut, kidnapping

The two guys at the gas station check out counter had been there when Phinks had first walked through the sliding glass doors, and they were still there when he approached the check out himself, having only dropped in to grab another pack of beer. The gas station clerk seemed annoyed while the two guys were pulling their pockets inside out, evidently in search of any spare change that may have been hiding on their persons. There was a sad pile of jenny and some change sitting in front of the clerk while she waited for them impatiently, and she seemed ready to push all of the money back towards them as it became more and more likely that these two didn't have enough cash for the assortment of alcohol and junk food that also sat on the counter.

Any other time Phinks would've been annoyed by the situation. But seeing as he didn't have anywhere to be, he found that he didn't really care all that much. The troupe likely wouldn't meet back up for some time which left his schedule quite open, and he had found it difficult to find something to occupy his time with while he waited for the boss to bring everyone together again.

Phinks had decided that a road trip was a decent way to pass the time. It was something he'd never really done before and so far it was easing his boredom as he had hoped it would. There was no real time limit he had set on himself or any destination that he had in mind. He'd just keep doing whatever he felt like until the novelty of the trip wore off and then go home.

“Would you like to take a few items off?”

The tired voice of the clerk cut through his thoughts, and Phinks found that there had been no progress with the two in front of him.

“No no, we need all of it,” one of the men, a redhead, insisted, “we just, uh....”

Trailing off, the man glanced over to Phinks, who was still waiting with his single pack of beer. Then the man looked over to his companion and then back to the items on the counter.

Phinks could already sense what the man was going to ask of him before he spoke out.

“Hey man,” the guy said to Phinks, “I know it sounds bad, but do you think you could spot me on this? I'm bringing this stuff back for my party. We ran out of some stuff way quicker than we expected. Can't let people down, y'know?”

The redhead started telling him how much more they needed until the clerk interrupted him to tell him off for harassing other customers for money. A mini argument started between the two, with the man insisting that he wasn't harassing anyone and the clerk disagreeing with him. The man's friend joined in shortly after and it was quickly turning into a mess.

What obnoxious fucking people.

If he was in more of a bad mood he'd have probably snapped the necks of all of them. The presence of cameras stopped him from doing that, however, as it would just be too much of a pain to go to the back and destroy the footage after. Still, even though he didn't have anywhere to be, it didn't mean that he wanted to waste his time listening to people bicker. The easiest way out of this was to just give them the jenny so they'd all shut up.

After pulling out his wallet, Phinks slid the jenny across the counter.

That shut the three of them up, and the two men were quick to express their gratitude while the clerk just looked tired.

“Thank you so, so much, man,” the redhead continued after they collected their bagged items.

“Mm-hm.”

Phinks was only half-paying attention to him as he waited for the clerk to scan the beer so he could hand her the jenny owed. That transaction went much quicker and Phinks was soon making his way to the exit.

The two men seemed to be waiting on him, though.

“Hey, since you helped us out, you wanna come to my party?” the redhead asked.

Normally his automatic response would've been to give him a flat “no”. But in this instance Phinks just shrugged.

That seemed to give the redhead hope, and he began listing the reasons why Phinks should follow them back, like his “cool house”, hot women and great beer.

Given the especially cheap brand of beer Phinks had largely paid for, he had a hard time believing that last point. He also wasn't quite sure why this guy was so insistent on getting him to come along. Was it really just because Phinks had bothered to help them out?

“Name's Stu by the way. Back there is Billy,” the redhead told him, sticking out his arm to shake hands. When Phinks didn't do the same, Stu seemed a bit dejected, yet even that didn't make him back down from inviting Phinks.

“So how 'bout it, man? You wanna come?”

“.... I'll think about it,” he told him.

“Okay, but do it fast man. My place isn't that far from here.”

Phinks nodded, and Stu ran off to the car where his friend was waiting. The other guy didn't seem as keen on Phinks as the redhead had, regarding the blonde with suspicion. Phinks could hear him saying something as the two entered the car. Stu seemed to brush him off, and then their car doors closed and Phinks couldn't hear anything else.

The two ended up pulling out of the parking lot before he did, and Phinks found himself following them as they all made the same turn onto the highway.

He still had no real urge to go to some random guy's party, especially when he found him to be pretty annoying. And if it was a party filled with the friends of someone like that, he'd probably get irritated with all of them pretty quick. Better to just ignore them and be on his way.

Although the thought of just driving aimlessly through the night wasn't all that attractive, either. He'd done that several times now, and the feeling of being the only person in the world while he drove on the empty highway had lost its touch by now.

The car in front of him veered off the highway to get onto a side road.

After a few seconds, Phinks did the same, just thinking to himself 'why not?'. It would be something different, a little detour on a trip that was meant to be a distraction, and if it ended up being something that he didn't want to bother with, then he could just leave.

Although the noise level in the house wasn't quiet, it was nowhere near ear-shatteringly loud as Phinks may have expected. At least it had that in it's favor. Other than that, it was a stereotypical frat house party, with everyone talking and drinking as they got more and more shitfaced.

The two who brought him here vanished into the kitchen, and Phinks began to make his way around the house, sipping one of the cans of beer he had bought for himself since he had no interest in the shit the host had him pay for. A girl in one of the upstairs rooms noticed the beer in his hand and begged him to share with her, even going as far as to tug on the sleeve of his jacket when he told her no. He ended up pushing her away, and though he had tried to use as little force as possible, his strength combined with her tipsiness caused her to stumble back into a wall. She was still whining about him when he walked back down the stairs, going on about how mean he was.

He thought he'd been pretty nice to her, all things considered.

It didn't take long for Phinks to lose interest in this particular distraction. Not that he'd been expecting much, but after going around the house and not even seeing anything that might be worth stealing, he figured it'd be best to leave soon. With his short temper being one of his vices, he didn't want to deal with what would happen if some drunk got on his nerves and he smashed them into the wall.

With the sights, sounds and smells became grating to him and seeing no reason to stay any longer, Phinks went about trying to find an exit. Attempting to get out the same way he came in was put to a stop when he saw how congested the front entrance had become. He could've easily pushed past all of them, but since that would likely draw a fair amount of attention, maybe it'd be a better idea to find a different way out. Phinks wandered into the kitchen, walking by Stu who tried to talk to him. A patio door leading to the backyard caught his eye and he ignored the party's host as he walked by several people to get to it.

The cool air outside felt refreshing and he let out a soft sigh as the patio door slowly swung closed. Claustrophobia generally wasn't something he had an issue with, but that seemed to change a little when he was faced with a house full of drunken strangers who didn't understand the meaning of personal space. Another nice thing was the fact that no one else seemed to be out here. He didn't think it was that cold out, but it worked just fine if the people inside thought otherwise.

He stood on a deck with an assortment of patio furniture that sat in front of an in ground pool, and when he looked to the side, he saw the gate within the fencing that surrounded the backyard.

That was his way out, then.

With no more reason to stick around, he was about to head out and back to his car-

But he paused when he heard the sound of splashing water, and he looked back to the pool.

So he wasn't the only person out here.

Some of the patio furniture had blocked you from his sight so he hadn't noticed you at first, but you were now swimming out into the center of the pool and impossible to miss. It was pretty late in the year for swimming, wasn't it? Yet you seemed to be content with yourself despite the temperature and lack of company, swimming around the pool like you owned it. Maybe you did; he wasn't sure what your relation was to the party host.

Then your eyes met, and you smiled as you greeted him.

“Hello.”

“... Hey.”

He hadn't come out to look for company. He was looking to leave.

Yet something about this situation, about you, intrigued him, and Phinks walked forward, continuing with “isn't it a little late in the season for swimming?”

“That's what everyone seems to think,” you said, “it's going to be drained tomorrow, so I wanted to swim one more time before that. It's the last chance I'll get for this year.”

“No public pools around here?” he asked.

“I don't really like public pools,” you told him, laughing a little bit as you continued “the ones around here are never clean, and I don't wanna swim around in nasty water.”

Phinks couldn't say if he really had an opinion one way or the other. He tried to avoid situations where he'd need to be shirtless in public, as the spider with the number 5 on his ribs would've been a dead giveaway for anyone who understood it's meaning. He just shrugged at you as he said “fair enough.”

Phinks now stood at the edge of the pool while you swam up to the edge.

“I don't think I've seen you before. You new around here?” you asked him.

“No. Just passing through. Helped out the host at the gas station and he invited me as thanks,” Phinks explained, “I was expecting this to be taking place at some shitty apartment; didn't think a guy like that owned a house.”

“He doesn't, it belongs to his older brother Jed. Stu just lives with him,” you responded.

“Ah.”

That made a bit more sense to him. Since he hadn't been able to buy beer from a gas station on his own, it didn't seem likely that the guy would've had his own house. So he was just leeching off of his brother.

Despite being ready to leave just minutes earlier, he found that he now had a reason to want to stay here longer. But standing and talking to you was getting a little awkward, so Phinks sat himself down on the concrete next to the pool. So far you weren't annoying compared to some of the others. And despite being by yourself beforehand, you seemed pretty open to talking with him, resting your arms on the edge of the pool.

“You friends with them, then?”

“Jed is in a few of my classes, so I'm friends with him. Not Stu, though. He's kind of an asshole. Likes to play a lot of stupid pranks.”

You rested your chin in your hand as you thought back.

“He's destroyed two of my phones so far, both times by dumping water on me,” you said, “although I guess he did repay me for both, but it's still such a hassle to go through.”

“You're nicer than I am. If some guy like that fucked up my phone I'd kill him.”

You laughed at him, not taking his words seriously.

“You seem nice enough. You helped him out, right?”

“Only because it was the fastest way to get outta there. Stupid bastard started an argument with the clerk.”

“Yeah. That sounds like something he'd do,” you said, tiredness lacing your voice.

A cheer then sounded from inside the house, and though the doors and windows were closed, it was loud enough that the both of you could hear it from outside.

“Things must be ramping up in there,” you commented.

“Guess so,” Phinks said, taking a swig of his drink after.

“Isn't it kinda weird that you're keeping to yourself with an event like this? Don't see the point in going out if you're going to avoid people,” he added.

“But isn't that what you're doing by coming out here?” you asked.

“Nah, I was getting ready to leave.”

“What stopped you?”

“I haven't done much out here beside sitting here talking to you. What do you think?”

You seemed a bit taken aback and a little embarrassed as you realized the reason, but gave him a small smile.

“Oh wow. Are you saying I managed to be charming enough to keep a guy from leaving?” you asked him.

“No. You're just not as annoying as the others I've met tonight.”

Your expression was rather blank as you took in that information.

“..... I'll take that as a compliment, then,” you said, “so what do you do?”

“What do I do?”

“For a job, or just anything in general.”

“I do a couple odd jobs here and there, I guess,” he answered, “every once in a while a bigger opportunity comes up, and I just do whatever I need to.”

It was an oversimplification of his criminal activities, and he hoped that he'd been vague enough without sounding suspicious.

It appeared that he had as you didn't seem to think it was strange.

“You mentioned earlier that you were just passing through. Are you on your way to a job or something?”

“Nah. I'm currently off-duty. And I had a lot of time to kill, so I decided to take a road trip.”

“Oh, that sounds nice,” you said, “I work on campus, so I don't really get to do vacations for now. Can't remember the last time I went on one.”

“Job at least worth it?”

“Kind of? Although the other week I needed to go through something stupid.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I got screamed at by a lady.”

Your tone made it seem like that was something happened on a regular basis.

“For what?” he asked.

“Something with her daughter's textbooks. She ordered one that she didn't need on accident but didn't want to admit that she made a mistake, so she just let her mother yell at me for forty minutes and claim that we were the ones who fucked up.”

You sighed a little after the explanation. Evidently that situation still made you frustrated.

“.... Did she apologize after?” Phinks asked.

With a slightly wistful smile, you shook your head as you said “people like that don't apologize.”

“Sounds rough.”

It went without saying that Phinks wouldn't have tolerated anything like that. If it had been him he'd have killed them both and tossed their bodies in the trash. But he kept that rather violent thought to himself.

“Sorry you needed to deal with that,” he added.

“It's okay. It's little things that keep you going,” you said, “I've been looking forward to swimming for a while, so I'm pretty happy right now. Although I guess I'm kinda doing a job right now.”

“How so?”

“Jed's at his job right now, and since he doesn't trust Stu, he asked me to make sure nothing happens to the pool. The last time Stu had a party there was a bunch of trash in it the next morning, and it was a pain to clean up. So in exchange for using the pool, I have full permission to snitch on anyone who tosses anything.”

“Yeah? What's snitching gonna do?”

“Jed's a scary guy. Nobody wants to make him mad.”

If Phinks had felt like being more of an asshole, and if you'd been unpleasant during your conversation with him, he probably would've taken his half-finished beer can and thrown it into the pool just to upset you and also to see if your friend was as scary as you were making him out to be.

But so far he'd been enjoying himself, so as fun as that thought might have been, he decided against it.

You pulled one of your arms off of the rim and back into the water. Evidently you were getting cold, but you held on to the edge to continue speaking to him.

“So how long have you been on your trip?” you asked.

“A few weeks.”

“A few weeks? You must have been all over the place, then. Did you go anywhere in particular?”

“Not really,” Phinks answered, “didn't have any real plan when I set out. Just drove to wherever I thought would be interesting.”

“That's kinda cool,” you said, “must be nice to be able to go wherever you want without any real plan.”

“You can't?”

“Nope. Classes and work means I can't just run off whenever I feel like it.”

“Too busy getting screamed at?” he asked jokingly.

“Yeah, something like that,” you answered, laughing a little after.

You pulled your other arm back underwater and just kept a hand on the side of the wall.

“Cold?” he asked.

“A little.”

“Probably why most people aren't swimming this late.”

“I don't care; it's worth it,” you said, “honestly, the thought of being able to swim was what kept me going this week.”

That.... Was a little bit sad, Phinks thought to himself. That all you had to look forward to at the end of the week was a few hours to swim by yourself in the cold. There were much sadder circumstances in the world – he was certain that anyone from Meteor City would be more than happy to switch places with you – but your life must have felt empty. Although Phinks was technically in the same boat at the moment, at least being with the troupe gave him purpose. What did you have besides a shitty job and presumably a fair amount of college debt? Just the 'little things' to keep you going?

Maybe he was presuming too much; he'd only just met you after all. But it bothered him regardless.

“What are your plans for after college?” he asked.

You seemed a bit startled, and you looked away from him for the first time.

“Not really sure, actually. I'm still undecided on my major,” you admitted, “I need to figure out soon, though. I'm going to run out of the basic coursework that I need to get through, and my family is getting mad that I haven't made a decision yet.”

So you didn't have any direction and were being pressured by others. Still not the saddest circumstance ever, but if it had been him, Phinks was certain he'd have been miserable.

You clearly didn't want to keep going on about that particular subject, as you began to ask him questions about his trip, wanting to know where exactly he had been so far and how much longer he planned to drive for. The change in topics was obvious, but he decided to go along with it.

As the night grew darker while the two of you talked, he decided that he liked you. You could hold a decent conversation, even if the things you two talked about weren't all that meaningful.

You were pretty cute, too.

The party behind him still seemed to be going strong, but it was largely going ignored by you both, in part by the fact that you were still the only ones outside.

Your face lit up as a thought came to mind.

“You should come in!” you told him.

“No thanks.”

“Come on! It's really nice!”

You grabbed at his free hand, tugging on his arm lightly as you tried to encourage him to get into the pool.

“If you get my suit wet I'll drown you,” Phinks said told you.

You giggled, once more not taking him seriously. Though he was only half-serious about it at this point.

“Then take it off and come in,” you insisted.

“I don't have a swimsuit.”

“That doesn't stop most people.

“Good to know,” he said flatly.

Though you'd stopped tugging on his arm, both of your hands remained on his wrist as you looked up at him.

“Can you not swim?” you asked.

“I can swim fine,” he said, “I just don't feel like it right now.”

You seemed a bit disappointed, but you had yet to let go of his wrist.

“Should you really be that surprised with the temperature being what it is?” he asked you.

“It isn't that bad. And the pool is heated,” you insisted, “didn't think a bit of chill would scare off the most interesting person at this party, though.”

The corner of his lips curled a bit at that. He wasn't one for meaningless flattery, but he didn't mind hearing you say things like that.

“Is that why you're not letting go of me?”

“You don't seem to be doing much to shake me off.”

“I could if I wanted to.”

“So you don't want to?”

You were teasing him. And while he could tease you back, he went for a different approach.

He yanked his wrist out of your grip and grabbed your own wrist just as fast, and lifted you up until you were eye level with him. To say you were flustered by the action would've been an understatement, and your free hand grasped at the arm that held you up to lessen the weight on the arm that he had trapped.

With you partially out of the water, Phinks allowed his eyes to travel over your form, following the trails of water that dripped down your skin and imagining exactly what you looked like under that swimsuit. His grin got wider when he saw your body reacting to the cooler temperature and the way your nipples showed through the material. It hadn't been on his mind when he first approached you, but after spending time with you he found himself liking the idea of fooling around with you. Probably not in the house, and he doubted you would want to do anything in the pool due to that friend of yours you had mentioned. Maybe there was some dark corner around here where he could take you to do what he wanted.

You were squirming a little, trying to free yourself from his grip.

“It's cold,” you whined.

“Yep,” was his reply.

“Come on, let go. I'm only in a swimsuit.”

“You weren't letting me go,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but I didn't pull you into the water.”

“Because you're too weak to do that.”

“That's not fair!”

“Don't think this is a situation where fairness matters, sweetheart.”

With that he let you go, and you dropped back down into the pool. You pushed away from the wall after, giving him a slightly sour look.

“Problem?” he asked.

“It's cold,” you repeated.

He just smirked.

“You're gonna need to deal with it at some point,” he told you.

“Yeah, but I wasn't ready for it then!”

You had to have noticed the way he looked at you, right? There was no way you were so oblivious to have not seen how he had blatantly looked you over. Yet you weren't mentioning it.

By now you were more at the center of the pool, pointedly out of his range.

“You done talking?” Phinks asked.

“No, but I don't want you pulling me out again.”

Then you looked away like you were embarrassed.

It clicked for him. You must have liked it, but you were too shy to say anything about it.

Your reluctance was cute, though Phinks knew he'd get tired of that game pretty fast.

“Come back over,” he told you.

“Why?”

“Because I want you to.”

You shook your head.

“You're going to do that again, right?” you asked.

“Maybe.”

“Then no. I don't wanna get out yet.”

“How long are you gonna stay in there?”

“Until I feel like getting out.”

“And if I want you out of there now?”

“Then you'd have to come in and get me.”

…. Oh

That's what it was.

A ploy by you to get him into the pool.

That's what you had to mean by those words, right?

“.... What the hell,” he said to himself as he stood.

It got your attention when he began to remove his clothing, throwing them over to a few neatly folded articles of clothing that sat next to a bag on the patio, which he assumed belonged to you. You were watching him closely, and he could sense a growing interest in you when he removed his shirt. Your eyes lingered a little when you caught sight of his spider tattoo, but there was no hint that you recognized what it meant, which was preferable.

“Enjoying the show?” he asked.

“You were looking at me earlier,” you answered defensively, “you're not allowed to get mad when I do the same.”

“Didn't say I was mad.”

You acknowledging the way he had looked at you then just reaffirmed in his head that you hadn't minded, and after stripping down to his boxers, Phinks jumped in. The water felt just as nice as you had said, but he didn't take much time to focus on it as he was quick to approach you. Within moments, he had wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in close, lifting you a little so you were at eye level with him. You seemed flustered again, but you didn't make any move to get away, and were resting your hands on his chest.

“I don't think you told me your name,” you whispered to him.

“Phinks.”

“Phinks,” you repeated, smiling afterwards, “I like it. It's cool.”

“Thanks,” he replied, “and how 'bout you?”

You gave him your name, which he also repeated to himself.

“Not as cool as 'Phinks', I guess,” you said.

“It suits you,” he said.

You smiled at him, then shifted slightly in his grip.

“Are you just gonna keep holding me?”

“You said I needed to come in and get you.”

“And what did you want to 'get' me for?”

Despite the question, you clearly had an idea of what Phinks was after as you began to move in closer to him. Phinks did the same, and slowly, the gap between the two of you was closed as your lips met together in a kiss.

With the heavy scent of pool chemicals that surrounded you two, it was hard to smell much else, but your lips were soft against his. The kiss was a bit tame for his liking, but he let you do what you wanted for now as you readjusted your arms so they were wrapped around his neck.

One of his hands slid down your back to reach down and squeeze your ass, and you gasped into the kiss. He slipped his tongue into your mouth for a brief moment before you pulled away, your hand over your mouth as you looked away in embarrassment.

“I'm not sure we should do much more here,” you said, glancing up at the house behind him, “there are people watching. I'm not into that.”

“Where do you wanna go?” he asked. It didn't surprise him much that you two might have attracted an audience, and when he heard the door to the patio open from behind him, he chose to ignore it.

“I don't think we'll get much privacy here, so how about my place?” you asked.

“Do you usually bring home strangers?”

“Only the really cool ones.”

He grinned.

You were leaning in to kiss him again when you suddenly froze and turned your attention to something behind Phinks.

“Don't do that!” you yelled.

Phinks turned his head just in time to see his and your clothes land in the water, with the guy who'd invited him – Stu, he remembered – pointing and laughing after having thrown them. The annoying woman from earlier, the one who had whined at him for his can of beer, was also there, standing behind Stu and running off with him towards the gate in the fence.

Phinks saw red.

He let you go and swiftly exited the pool, following after the two even as the chill of the night air nipped at his skin. He barely felt it, and he didn't give a shit that he was running around barefoot either. All of his focus was on catching up to those two assholes who'd dumped his clothes in the pool.

He was angry enough that he didn't notice the sound of feet following after him.

The two perpetrators were in an alleyway between two rows of houses, drunkenly laughing their asses off. Their demeanor didn't change when Phinks caught up to them. The woman actually began to laugh harder, probably because Phinks was still wearing only his boxers.

Stu was trying to contain himself a bit, and put his hands up as an offering of peace.

“Hey man, it wasn't anything personal. Just a prank,” he said, “you can use the dryer, and I'll lend you some clothes-”

His sentence was cut off when Phinks grabbed both sides of his head and twisted it completely around, the cracking of his broken neck ringing out in the empty alley.

The sight of Stu falling to the ground with his head facing the wrong way had the woman instantly sober up, and she looked to Phinks as she opened her mouth to scream.

Barely a whisper of sound was able to escape as he did the same thing to her, and now Phinks was standing half-naked in an alley with two dead bodies.

“Obnoxious fucking people,” he muttered to himself.

Then there was noise that came from behind him.

Phinks turned and saw the other guy who'd been at the gas station on the ground, his arms barely supporting himself as his eyes were wide at the sight of his friends dead before him.

His eyes widened even further when he spotted the spider on Phinks' ribs, clearly recognizing what it meant as he whispered “oh my god.”

Make that three bodies, Phinks thought to himself as he rushed forward to snap his neck as well.

Three bodies that he needed to get rid of. If anyone else from the party came out here and found them, the police would be called immediately. He had no intentions of staying here any longer, but it'd be best to put a bit of distance between himself and the crime scene before the police were inevitably called.

He was dragging the other guy by his ankles and in the process of collecting the woman's body when someone walked out into the alley through one of the other entrances. An older woman, who was definitely not from the party and had come from another house, carrying a bag of trash walked out in front of Phinks, and like the guy right before, her eyes grew wide as she saw the sight of the dead before her.

She made a move to run back to her house, but Phinks picked up a pebble that he infused with nen and launched it at her head. It traveled through her skull and the fencing beside her, and blood sprayed out from the exit wound and splattered onto the fence as well as she fell to the ground.

This was turning into a goddamn mess, and after Phinks had thrown now four bodies over into a different backyard, he heard a voice calling out “mom?” from the direction that the woman with the trash bag had come from.

Fuck this. He needed to go.

When he returned to the backyard to retrieve his clothes, he found you on the patio. You were holding his jacket over the concrete, desperately trying to wring out the water that had soaked it completely. You were visibly shivering as you did so, with goosebumps running up your arms and your teeth chattering. He noticed his pants hanging off the fence that surrounded the patio, and while they weren't dry by any means, you had clearly done your best to get the water out of them. Meanwhile your own clothes laid in a soggy heap by your equally soaked bag.

You noticed him when he walked closer.

“I'm sorry,” you told him. You looked guilty for some reason.

“You didn't do it,” Phinks said, considerably calmer now.

“No. But I made a big deal about you getting in with me, and with Stu around I should've been paying attention. I'm really, really sorry.”

He was about to tell you to stop apologizing when he heard a shout coming from the direction of the alleyway.

Fuck. He forgot that he needed to leave.

Luckily you were the only one who noticed, as the rest of the party goers still had the doors and windows securely shut. He pulled on his pants and his sopping wet tank top, and the sensation of wearing those wet clothes was just as unpleasant as he had anticipated. At least his shoes were still dry.

You were still holding his jacket, looking confused as you looked off in the direction where you'd heard that voice. Phinks was about to just take it from you and leave, but when he looked you over again, he thought over the things you two had talked about, the things you had said and how you'd acted around him, and he came to a split second decision.

Grabbing your clothes and bag, he shoved them into your hands before he grabbed one of your arms and pulled you after him. You seemed startled, but you didn't question him as you were too surprised to think of anything to say. He led you out through the backyard and down to where he had parked his car, opening the passenger side door and pushing you inside. He then walked around to the driver's side, and within moments you both were speeding out of the neighborhood.

By the time he came to the highway there was a strong smell of pool chemicals that filled the car, and both of the front seats were slowly soaking up the excess water that dripped off of the two of you.

You seemed to be in a mild state of shock, as you had yet to say anything. You just sat in your still wet swimsuit looking rather confused while you still held onto the soaked clothing Phinks had forced onto you.

After a while you shuddered and finally spoke up.

“Do you think you could turn up the heat?” you asked him.

“Oh. Sure. Sorry.”

Phinks turned the heat up all the way, and after a few moments you seemed to relax a bit, though now you were glancing over at him while smiling nervously.

“Uh, so, there's a lot that I should probably be questioning,” you began, “but I'll start with if you knew why there was yelling?”

Should he lie? No, that might be weird if he pretended not to know.

“I punched that guy in the face. I think I broke his nose,” he told you, “that was likely his friend after he saw him.”

“Ah. Okay,” you said, “that's..... Not very good, but I think I get why you did that. You're gonna get charged with assault, though.”

Fat chance.

“I'll deal with that when I come to that,” he answered, “sorry if I put you in a tough position.”

“It's okay. Well, not really. But Stu's pranks have always been pretty bad and what he did was shitty, so I guess it was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“Think you can forgive me?”

“... Yeah, I think so. Just promise you won't do anything like that again.”

“I promise.”

“Okay,” you said as you nodded, “so second question: where are we going?”

“.... Not sure. Didn't have much of a plan besides getting out of there and going back to what I was doing,” Phinks admitted.

“So you're just back to driving around going wherever?”

“Seems like it.”

“Why did you bring me along?” you asked.

“.... Didn't want that to be the last time I saw you,” he said.

“Oh.....”

His answer ended up making you flustered again, and while you did seem to be holding some reservations about him with his admission of violence and the fact that he really had just kidnapped you, he could see you rationalizing everything in your mind and convincing yourself that this wasn't all that bad.

It was preferable if you did that. It made taking you with him a lot easier.

“Luckily for me I don't work tomorrow,” you said, “and since the day after that is Sunday and the campus store isn't open then, I also have that day off. So I think it's okay if I drive around with you for a bit. Just get me back by Sunday night, alright?”

“Don't worry. I'll get you back safe and sound,” he told you, and you visibly relaxed at his words.

You were a little naive, a little too trusting. But that was fine. Phinks liked that about you.

“Okay so third question,” you announced as you looked down at the wet clothes in your lap, “what should we do about this?”

“Right. Let me pull over.”

He stopped the car beneath a streetlight, and you sat sideways on the passengers seat while you held the clothes out of the car and wrung the water out of them as best you could. Phinks took the opportunity to change after you handed him his jacket, and he threw the mostly damp clothes in the backseat.

Glancing over at you, he did appreciate how much your swimsuit showed off while you tried to dry out your own clothes. But while he liked the idea of you staying as you were for the rest of the trip, you probably wouldn't be as big of a fan of that. Going over to his trunk once more, he dug around through his bag before he found what he was looking for.

“I don't have anything that will fit you well,” Phinks said as he made his way over to you, “but this should cover you up.”

What he handed you was the long white robe he wore on occasion, usually for combat or missions.

You seemed a bit surprised when you saw it, but you accepted it gratefully. Your gaze went to the jeweled eye that hung near the neck of the garment, and he heard you mumble about it being pretty.

He wondered briefly what you might think of the snake headpiece he usually wore with it, but the time for that would come later as you were currently slipping his robe over your head.

“Thank you,” you told him again as you threw your clothing in the back as well.

Then your attention went to your bag, and you frowned.

“What's wrong?”

In response to his question, you tilted your bag to the side and water began to pour out of it.

“Ah.”

“How much do you wanna bet that my phone is dead?” you asked as you reached inside.

As was expected, your phone screen stayed black when you hit the power button, and you sighed.

“And that's phone number three that Stu has destroyed.”

“Don't worry. It won't happen again,” he told you.

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

You tossed the now useless phone into your bag and looked back up to him as if to say “so what now?”

Phinks had an idea for that.

“Wanna go to a motel?”

“A motel? Wow, you sure know how to treat someone,” you said sarcastically.

“You really think I can get you into a nice hotel with you looking like that? You don't even have shoes,” he said.

“I didn't get a chance to grab them,” you responded, though you seemed to concede a bit.

“Could we stop somewhere tomorrow so I can get shoes or something?”

“I'll buy you a whole new wardrobe if that's what you want.”

You laughed at that, shaking your head and saying that you didn't need that.

Before too long, Phinks was back in the drivers seat while you watched the streetlights as the car passed them by, your fingers idly playing with the jewel on his robes as you did so. He had turned down the heat and turned on the radio, and though it still felt strange to be sitting in the wet seats, it wasn't bothering either of you as much anymore. The smell from the pool was mostly gone after driving a bit with the windows opened just a crack.

Except for the occasional car that drove in the opposite direction, you were the only ones on the highway.

“How far are you gonna drive?” you eventually asked.

He wanted to get out of the state at least. Phinks didn't want to deal with a confrontation with the law while also taking you along with him. He wanted to get as far as he could while you were still cooperative, and whenever you realized that there was no chance he'd be taking you back, he'd go to more extreme measures of keeping you with him. Your phone being dead was a good thing for him; you wouldn't be able to try and get help as easily.

“I think we've passed by three or four motels already,” you added, “was there something wrong with them?”

“No. Sorry. I got a bit distracted,” Phinks replied, “I've come to really like the highway at night. There's something soothing about it, I guess. Wanted to stay like this for a bit longer.”

You nodded in response and looked back out the window, your fingers still playing with the jeweled eye.

“Can I borrow your phone at some point tomorrow? I need to call someone just so everyone back home knows I'm okay. Don't want them to worry,” you said to him.

“Sure,” he said.

Arguing with you over that would seem strange. He'd just need to avoid that subject tomorrow.

He noticed when you yawned.

“Getting tired?” he asked.

“A little,” you said, laughing a little as you added, “this wasn't how I was expecting my night to go.”

“Same here.”

“I hope you decide to stop soon. I might not be up for it tonight if you're planning on continuing where we left off at the pool when we reach that motel.”

“That's fine. We'll have all day tomorrow, right?”

His words made you embarrassed again, and you shyly answered with a yes as you smiled to yourself.

So that was the plan, then. Drive as far as he could tonight, fuck your brains out tomorrow, then get away further before you figured things out. You would likely object, not liking the idea of being taken away from everything you'd ever known. But he was certain that after spending enough time with him, you'd prefer it. Your current life wasn't any good, but he was prepared for you to not understand that at first. And if he needed to tie you up and shove you into the trunk to keep you compliant, he could do that. Seemed like a pretty fool-proof plan.

You were yawning again.

“Get some sleep if you need to,” he said, “I'll wake you up when I find a place I like.”

You nodded. Soon after he saw you settling back into the seat and closing your eyes as you attempted to get some rest.

He liked the sight of you next to him, sitting in his clothes while you nodded off in his car. And when he turned his attention back to the empty highway, he was once again hit with the feeling like he was the only one in the world. A feeling that only came with seeing an area that was typically full of people seem completely abandoned.

But this time, though, he wasn't alone.

#reader insert #yandere #yandere hxh #phinks x reader #yandere phinks #phinks magcub #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere x reader

[animalkingdom-an0nymous]

False God- Sean Wallace

Disclaimer: No gifs or photos are mine unless stated otherwise.

Warning: A violent, smutty NSFW Sean Wallace fic. What if that last day ended differently? What if Sean made it out with his wounds? And what if there was someone from his childhood who haunted him just as much as he haunted her?

Subject: Sean X Y/N

Growing up, Sean Wallace and I were one in the same. We liked the same jokes, ate our peanut butter and jelly sandwiches cut the same way- in triangles- and our only real difference was that I was an American. Our fathers, both legendary crime bosses in their own right, were great business partners and made each other filthy rich. We were dangerously similar.

Until we weren’t.

I’d been in America when Finn Wallace was murdered, and I’d stayed in America during the aftermath. My father had cared deeply for Finn, but the world we lived in was fucking brutal, cold, and my dad would never risk my well being by allowing me to go to the UK to be with Sean.

Hearing about all of it had been a nightmare, though. Hearing about murders and the carnage, communities and families wiped out when Sean locked the city down. My heart ached for the boy I once knew and feared for the man that was, and then, just as quickly as it all blew up, the flames went out. All was quiet.

Sean Wallace was dead.

Or so the world thought. My father, who had an in with Billy and Jac, knew the truth. The Wallace family had connections within the police force- cliché, right?- and when a few of their own found him lying in a pool of his own blood, bleeding out from his fucking face, they quickly pronounced him dead at the scene. I didn’t know the ins and outs, didn’t care to, because the life I lived now was so far from the life I was forced to live as a child. All I knew was they got him out of there and Sean Wallace, as London knew him, was dead.

I needed him to stay that way.

It had been nearly a year since then, nearly a year since I last had the nerve to ask my dad about him. I think he knew how I felt, knew I had gone to great lengths to distance myself from him and my mother and the hellish, brutal life they created. But that didn’t mean my dad didn’t love me. I knew he did in his own, twisted way, and I knew he caught on to the hurt I felt whenever Sean’s name was mentioned.

So he stopped mentioning it.

Billy and Jac were stateside and living under different names, that much I knew. I had yet to see them, but I knew they were close enough to drive to because my mother had made sure to mention in her last email that their “home was beautiful and they think it was quite rude of you not to come around and visit, Y/N.”

It was bullshit. Billy and Jac didn’t feel any type of way about me, we were never close. That was reserved specifically for Sean and me. And look how well that turned out.

I was haunted by the ghost of a man I didn’t even know anymore.

He was labeled as a terrorist and maybe that’s what hurt more than anything. I could never scream from the rooftops how much I fucking loved him because that’s crazy. Because who could love a terrorist? Who could love a man that had murdered, cheated, stolen to get his way? And if I did love him, what kind of woman did that make me?

It was a thought that had been in my mind on replay all day long, the musings drifting into the night as I drove towards my childhood home. I had made the agreement with my parents- namely my father- that once a month I would return home for dinner. It was nearly a two hour drive but one that I committed to because if I didn’t I knew they would show up at my apartment. And what twenty-something year old woman wants her parents showing up at her apartment unannounced?

The gravel ground under my tires as I pulled my all black BMW into the driveway. It was already dark and I knew my mother would have something to say about me showing up late, but at least I showed up. Sure, I was still wearing the navy blue pantsuit I’d worn at work all day and I usually changed whenever I had dinner with them, but my mind was occupied tonight. By thoughts of Sean. By thoughts of Sean getting his face blown off. Did it hurt? Did he remember? Would I ever know?

My father met me at the door. Six foot three and wide like a linebacker, the man was not to be messed with. He was no nonsense and the only people he smiled at were me and the people he was going to shoot right before he shot them. You can do what you want with that information.

“My little angel,” he said and reached for me, taking both my hands in his and bringing them to his lips. It was a simple gesture but one he did every single time. It was the one constant my dad ever provided me. “How was the drive up?”

“Traffic wasn’t too bad tonight, but I ended up getting out a bit later than I thought I would.”

He swung an arm around me as we made our way through the marble foyer, my heels clacking against the floor. “My art gallery owner. Your mother and I are so proud of you.”

I raised my eyebrows. He was feeding me bullshit, both he and my mom wanted me in the family business more than anything, but from the time I could voice my opinion I let them know. No. I would be taking no part in the family business.

Not that I didn’t know my shit. I knew my way around a gun shop and had a better shot than half the men my dad hired to protect us. I hit harder than my first two boyfriends and let everyone know that my last name was still my last name and not to fuck with me. I knew I was untouchable.

That didn’t mean I was embracing the lifestyle.

“Yeah, business is going great, I even hired someone part-time to help out.”

“Background check?”

I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Of course.”

“Family ties?”

“Her name is Mindy and she’s from a farm in rural Kansas.”

He paused and raised his eyebrows, one of the rare times my father ever looked shocked. “She doesn’t even know what our last name holds, does she?”

I shook my head. “Not a clue.”

He laughed his hearty, deep chuckle and stopped us at the bar cart outside of the dining room. As always, he grabbed two tumblers and threw a handful of ice in each before adding to fingers of whiskey. Our favorite. One of our few commonalities. “Proud of you, kid.”

“Thanks, dad.”

I was about to ask him how his week was when my mother’s voice drifted in from the balcony. She liked to drink her wine out there at night, before dinner. Just one glass, but it was a ritual she followed religiously. Her voice was somewhat raspy, a little cold, and I could hear her laughter as though it was wrapping around me like a vine.

But that was the thing; my mother drank her wine outside alone. That was her time. So who was she laughing at?

I glanced over my shoulder at my father to find him looking as though he was at a loss for words. It was so rare that he was speechless, a man of his stature always held a level of composure that was sometimes shocking. But not this time.

“Dad, wha-“

“You’re going to want to finish that drink, angel.”

My blood ran cold at his words. His tone was low, suddenly serious. The lighthearted moment from before was gone, something dark and heavy in its place.

I should have listened to him and finished the drink because as soon as I turned around I was met with the coldest, most pristine set of blue eyes I’d ever seen. Eyes that I once swore I would drown in someday.

Sean Wallace was standing eight feet in front of me. It was the first time we had seen each other in years, the first time I’d seen him since he was… dead.

His face was… fucked. Marred by the bullet that ripped through his left cheek on that fateful day. The skin was raised, almost burn-like, and left a medium sized indent in what would otherwise be a perfectly symmetrical face. His left eyelid held a little lower and it looked like he tried to cover up the other, minor scars with the facial hair that littered his jaw and around his mouth.

But even with the new, broken face, Sean Wallace was still the most breathtaking man in the room. His suit was impeccable and fit him like a glove, the stormy gray matching the storm that seemed to be raging in his eyes. His tie was a navy that matched my own suit and it felt like the universe was pointing at me and laughing. It felt like that bitch was having the time of her life watching me suffer.

“I…” I started, unsure of how to finish.

“I didn’t mean to startle you. I know this” he held a hand up to his face “is a lot to take in.”

I already shook my head, my stomach turning at the thought of him thinking he was ugly. “No! No, I… I, I’m, I wasn’t-“

“Best private schools in the state and she still has that damn stutter.” My mother’s cutting voice ceased my own and I bit at the inside of my cheek. She came around the corner in all her glory, designer dress, perfect manicure and not a hair out of place.

She made me fucking sick.

“It’s nice to see you.” I finally managed to get the words out, although I didn’t know if I was talking to Sean or my mom.

“Jesus, Y/N, you couldn’t even change first?”

“I think she looks great.” Sean’s voice caught everyone off guard and even my mom turned to look at him. “Beautiful, really. You always looked great in a suit.”

I knew he was referring to my high school graduation. Sean was two years older and had flown in to see me graduate. My mom, ever the lady, was determined to force me into a nightmare of a ball gown while I wanted a simple, chic suit. Sean had been there for the entire screaming match, laughing at my mother as she tripped over the dress she had been hellbent on making me wear.

I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged my lips and nodded at him. “Thank you.”

He nodded in return and said nothing else.

“Let’s eat, shall we?” I felt my dad’s hand on my back as he ushered me into the dining room. My feet felt like stone blocks were attached to them as I walked, feeling Sean directly behind me with his eyes burning holes into my suit jacket.

We all sat in silence with the ghost of my past sitting directly across from me. Sean made no secret that he was staring at me and it reminded me of the ignorant young boy I once knew. Sean knew he was handsome, powerful, and could easily get his way. He held himself with the confidence of a man who had everything and it seemed a gunshot to the face didn’t change that.

“You’ve managed to stay under the radar.” I noted as one of the maids poured red wine into my glass.

“Y/N!” my mother scolded.

I raised my eyebrows and didn’t glance in her direction, my eyes holding Sean’s. “What? Are we supposed to sit here and pretend everything is normal? You want me to ask him about the weather?”

“Y/N…” my father’s tone held a warning in it.

“No, she’s right.” Sean spoke up as I took a hearty gulp of wine. “Facial reconstruction had me laid up for a bit. Reconstructing an entire cheekbone can be tricky. And expensive.”

I nodded. “Especially when the entire cheekbone belongs to a dead man.”

The room fell quiet with even the staff scurrying to disappear. My mother was glaring at me and I was sure my father was too, but I didn’t care. I’d spent my entire childhood and teen years caring about and loving Sean only for him to cut me off when he became Finn’s minion and then fake his own fucking death a few years after. He got so caught up in the Wallace life, in the life I thought we both hated, that he forgot about me. And I was angry about it.

“I deserve that.” His accent was the same as always. Smooth. Elegant. The best that private school could buy. “I should have reached out sooner as I knew my siblings were in touch.”

My mother, the martyr, was quick to reassure him. “Sweetheart, you don’t owe us anything. We’re just so happy you’re alright.”

She was so warm with him, a complete contrast to how she acted with me. It was a constant reminder that she always wanted a son and ended up with me instead.

My father opened his mouth to speak when his right hand, Marcus, walked in with a phone in his hand. His face looked pinched, stressed, and my father immediately stood. “Excuse me.”

Sean nodded politely and turned to my mother, but she was already standing and following behind dad, sensing his stress.

“Should we be concerned?”

I shook my head, my eyes still trained in the doorway. “I doubt it.”

Things were quiet then. Too fucking quiet. So quiet I felt like I was suffocating. I took a sip of wine. Then another. Another until my glass was empty and the bottle was taunting me from the center of the table.

“You have every right to be angry.”

“I’m not angry.” I was instantly defensive.

His smile was small, but it was there. “You always were a shit liar.”

“You were always a good one.”

His smile disappeared then and I was soon sitting across from the gangster that was always lurking underneath. Sean could do cool, calm, and collected. But he could only hide the angry, arrogant Wallace traits for so long. 

“I… can’t remember the last time we were face to face.”

I shrugged my shoulders, suddenly uncomfortable. “Christmas. Six years ago. Kingston.”

His smile- God, that fucking smile- reappeared. “You threw a drink in my face.”

“You called me a spoiled fucking twat.”

“You were acting like one.”

Now it was my turn to smile. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t help it. My early twenties were filled with vodka soda fueled arguments and boyfriends that my family- and Sean- hated. I was so different, that girl doesn’t even seem real anymore.

I was about to respond when I heard shouting coming from down the hall. My father’s office.

Sean and I stood at the same time, both of us sensing a certain level of danger. My father rarely ever shouted, it had to be something catastrophic for him to raise his voice like that.

Entering the hall, I quickly grabbed my bag next to the bar cart and produced my glock before tucking it into my waistband. Sean watched me silently the entire time. He was getting a little too comfortable with staring at me.

“Always prepared.”

“Family business, right?” I shot back at him over my shoulder as we neared my father’s study.

“No, no, fucking No! What do you mean they’re all dead? An entire fucking warehouse of people and they’re all fucking dead?”

My heart stopped in my chest. That was… impossible. The warehouses were untouchable, no one knew where they were unless they were part of our inner circle. Our microscopic inner circle. Which could only mean one thing…

It was an inside job.

“Fuck.” I spat. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Y/N, something’s happened.” My mother appeared in the doorway as we approached.

“Who did it?” I asked, getting straight to the point. “Any ideas?”

My dad was seated behind his wooden desk, a desk so large it was fit for a king. When I was a child I would spend hours in there reading on the stuffed leather couch while he worked silently. It was one of the few places I felt “safe” growing up.

“Kensington’s dead.” Our eyes met.

Rodger Kensington was my father’s longtime business partner and someone who was like an uncle to me. He’d been there at my prom, my graduation, and when I took my first steps. He was… family.

“Shit.” Sean’s word was quick and quiet, but then I remembered he knew Rodger too, and he knew what this meant.

“What about Sherry? The kids?” I was desperate to make sure their little ones were alright, they were all so young.

“They’re fine. They weren’t home, they-“

My father never got the words out as one of the staff walked in. I had turned at the sound of him entering the room, just barely meeting his eye as he raised his arm, a small handgun pointed directly at the man whose home we were in.

“Y/N!” My mother screaming my name like that would haunt my nightmares for months after.

A single shot rang out and my ears rang, a gasp leaving my lips as I reached for the gun in my waistband. But it wasn’t there.

The man was dead, a gunshot to the temple with crimson blood spilling all over the Italian wood floors. And then there was Sean, standing at my side with my gun pointed straight ahead, a dead look in his eyes.

It was all dangerously quiet and I could hear my own heartbeat, but only for a moment. Because as soon as I took a single breath, shit hit the fan.

My mother released a blood curdling scream, Marcus rushing to her side and grabbing her as she collapsed. My father, stoic, stood and walked over to the wardrobe near the window, swiftly pulling out guns and rounds of ammo. More security rushed in and I stood next to Sean, everything moving in slow motion. I could hear voices, hear my dad barking commands at his security who acted like his soldiers.

“There’s blood on my shoes.”

“What?”

What? Did I just say there was blood on my shoes? But it was true. My expensive cream suede shoes had blood splatter on them and I was ninety percent sure there was bone fragment near my heel.

“Blood. On my shoes.” My voice sounded far away.

Sean was suddenly in front of me and tucking my gun back into my waist while everyone shouted around us. “I’ll buy you a new pair. Bought them at the store on fifth, yeah?”

“How the fuck did you-“ I stopped, putting two and two together. “Have you been watching me?”

Sean’s face changed then and he straightened his shoulders. Our height nearly matched but only because of my heels, and I knew his gesture was dominant, authoritative. “I promise we can talk about that later, but-“

I pushed past him and walked towards my father who was barking orders into a phone. “Did you have Sean keep tabs on me?”

“Y/N, this isn’t the time for you to complain about your independence.”

I slammed my hand down on the wooden desk the same way I had watched him do it so. Many. Times. “Answer me!”

My father, all six foot three of him, stood tall and looked over me even with a desk separating us. “Watch yourself, young lady.”

“What the fuck is going on that you hired someone to watch me? That you hired Sean to watch me? What aren’t you telling me?”

He paused for the briefest of moments while everyone moved around us. I could hear safeties being turned off, my mom screaming down the hallway, and feel Sean standing close enough that I could smell his cologne.

“I’ve known for a bit that someone on the inside was giving information to Merkov brothers. Rodger and I spent months sifting through the weeds trying to figure out who it was. We had a break last night, I was going to tell you everything-“

“Four black SUV’s were spotted five miles from the property. Moving quickly. We need to go.” Marcus had appeared in the doorway sans my mother, his face wiped of anything sort of emotion. In fact, Marcus may have been the most emotionless man I had ever come into contact with. I would even venture to call him heartless.

“Shit.” My dad scrubbed a hand over his face. “I promise I will tell you everything, angel.” He looked at me, the desk separating us. “But right now you need to go and it can’t be back to your apartment.”

“Dad, I…” I had no idea what to say. I couldn’t go back to my apartment in the city, there was most definitely a hit out on my family, including myself, and Sean Wallace was back from the fucking dead. My day was going from bad to worse, my life blowing up in a twenty minute time span.

But I knew my last name, knew the weight it carried. I knew I had a certain responsibility to handle my shit and handle it well, with my shoulders back and my chin up.

“Where am I going?”

He was already on the move and I was on his heels, following him down the winding hallways of the home I grew up in. It was the same house that was sure to be shot to shit as soon as those SUV’s showed up.

“Harbor House.” He barked over his shoulder. “You can drive down there in the charger. Tinted windows. Marcus, have Anthony load a bag into the car. Ammo, guns, everything she’ll need.”

“No one knows where Harbor House is except us.” I reminded him. His business partners may have known about the warehouses and my father’s permanent residence, but Harbor House was for family and family alone.

“I’m not taking any chances, Y/N, not with you. Sean will accompany you and you’ll stay there until you hear from me. I’ll call-“

“What?” I cut him off. “Sean’s not coming with me.”

“I’m not taking any chances with you.” He repeated.

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

Sean cleared his throat behind me and I refused to look at him. I knew he was offended by what I’d said, but quite honestly I was offended by everything he had done since stepping foot in my parents’ home that day.

“This isn’t about what you need or want, Y/N. He’s going with you.”

I was about to fully lose my temper when shots rang out through the house. I reached for my glock and turned the safety off, immediately ducking behind a marble pillar with Sean’s hand on my elbow, holding me still.

There was yelling and gunshots, some of the housekeepers screaming bloody murder from the second and third floors. There was no way those SUV’s were already on the property, no way. It had to be someone else.

Someone had burned our entire fucking family.

“Dad!” I yelled as a bullet whirred past my head.

“Y/N, go! Now!” I could hear him but I couldn’t fucking see him. Marco was beating the shit out of a man dressed all in black, ripping his gun away and firing off a round into his chest. The smell of blood and gunpowder burned my nostrils and I winced.

“I’m not leaving you!” I screamed so loud my voice cracked.

“Sean!” My father shouted. “Get her the fuck out of here! Get her out now, kid! Now!”

I glanced over at Sean, warning him with my eyes not to touch me, but it was too late. He ripped the gun from my hand and wrapped an arm around my waist, tugging me backwards.

“Sean, no!” I screamed, trying to pull away.

“We have to go, Y/N.” He dragged me down the hall while I fought him the whole way , dragging my feet and scratching at the suit clad arm wrapped around my waist. He finally stopped at the side door at the end of the hall and yanked it open before tossing me in.

I stumbled across the cold concrete of the garage and caught myself against the car I was supposed to be leaving in.

Sean locked the door behind him and turned to me, my gun still in his hand. “In.” He motioned to the car.

Still the same, bossy man he always was. Without responding, I turned and made my way across the expansive garage, shoving a table out of the way and yanking open the drawers of a metal cabinet.

“Y/N!” Sean was losing his temper and we were losing time.

“You took my gun!” I finally screamed back, practically growling at him as I picked up twin Berettas and tucked them into the back of my waistband. I grabbed a rifle to throw into the backseat, and one more Glock since Sean had unceremoniously stolen mine and left me empty handed.

He was staring at me as I made my way back to the car, his chest heaving. God, he still looked good. A gunshot to the face only amplified how rough and beautiful he was. Dumb fucking asshole and his dumb fucking face.

I grabbed the keys from the wall and tossed them to Sean who caught them with one hand.

Show off, I thought to myself sullenly as I got into the passenger side, my heart leaping out of my chest. I was about to leave my parents to potentially die. My childhood home was being torn apart, half the staff that knew me since I was a child were now lying dead in the same house they’d dedicated their lives to. It made me sick.

“Just focus on driving.” I told him as the garage door began to rise. I could already see the shadows of feet on the concrete leaned halfway out the window, my nine millimeter raised. One shot to the knee and a man fell, a second shot between the eyes and he was done.

The second man was smart, moved off to the side and just out of aim, and Sean floored the gas pedal while I kept watch.

“Your left.” I said quietly and pointed the gun in front of him, sending shots flying out of the driver’s side door, taking out the second man who had been waiting for us.

“Three of them in front of the gate.” Sean nodded towards the gate at the side of the property, all of them holding assault rifles and aiming at us. “Duck.” he commanded with the car still in reverse.

“What?”

“Duck.” I felt his hand grab at the back of my head he shoved me down, my forehead nearly knocking against my knee as he picked up speed. A loud blast blew out the back windshield and then there was a loud, violent thunk.

His wide palm was still resting on the back of my head, grip so tight it made my scalp prickle in a way that annoyed me. My body had no business getting turned on while in the midst of this shit.

When the tires squealed against the gravel and we went surging forward, I sat back up. I could see smoke coming out of the windows, bullet holes in the brick and mortar. It was a fucking war zone and we were on our way out, leaving behind my family and any shred of sanity I had left.

Fuck.

* * * * * *

The ride to Harbor House was almost completely silent. Sean, ever the Brit, would curse out other drivers every now and then even though ninety percent of the mistakes were his own. Maybe I should have insisted on driving, but at the time the only thing I could think about was whether or not my parents got out.

Although we were never close, I didn’t wish death on my parents. Sure, I resented them for bringing me up in a life of chaos and violence and I’m well aware they caused me a lifetime of trauma, but that didn’t mean I wanted them dead. Definitely not murdered.

It was nearly midnight by the time we arrived. Harbor House was in an exclusive neighborhood and every home had a gate. It had been years since I was last at the house, but it held the only fond memories from my childhood. Harbor House and the Wallace house always felt like home to me. Strange that I was sitting next to a Wallace and not a single shred of me felt comfortable or at home. It was strange, when we were kids he was always my safe space.

I punched in the code and black iron gates opened up, promptly closing with a loud clang behind us. The property itself was a sprawling estate with a two floor home as well as a large yard, pool, and separate guest house. It was on the edge of a cliff and overlooked the Atlantic. Isolated. Safe. Private. The kind of place my family relied on to keep us safe.

“Pull the car into the garage, we’ll get a rental tomorrow.” My voice was monotonous. I felt so drained of every emotion other than pure exhaustion. I was covered in blood, my clothes smelled like gunpowder and sweat, I needed a hot shower.

Sean silently pulled into the garage and killed the engine. We sat there quietly for a moment, so quiet I couldn’t even hear him breathing. If he had any blood on him, I couldn’t tell. From this angle he looked every bit the GQ model. It was only when he turned his face to look at me that I got a glimpse of the mauled left half and got angry all over again.

I was angry at my parents for birthing me into this.

I was angry at whoever burned us.

I was angry at Sean for disappearing from my life in favor of violence. But I was so fucking angry that he had let it go so far that the world thought he was dead.

I almost wished he was.

“There’s five bedrooms. I trust that you’ll find one far away from me?” I phrased it like a question but we both knew it wasn’t.

He gave a curt nod.

The house was exactly as I remembered it. It even smelled the same. Hardwood floors, light walls, French doors leading to a beautiful deck. A kitchen so modern it would make Gordon Ramsey cream his pants. It was the homiest home my family had. It was my haven.

Only now Sean was here to cast a shadow over it.

“There’s plenty of clothes in all the guest bedrooms. My parents like to be prepared for every emergency, you know that.”

Sean nodded as he closed the door that connected to the garage. He locked it and was quick to set the code. The code that he definitely shouldn’t have had.

“How did you-“

“Your father.”

I raised my eyebrows incredulously. “My father gave you the codes to Harbor House?”

He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, eyes narrowing. “He gave me the code for the gate too, but I was polite enough to let you do it. That’s something, innit?”

He was being a smart ass, pushing my buttons on purpose simply because he could. Or because he’d had enough of my attitude. Either way, I wasn’t having it.

“You must be so fuckin’ proud of yourself. You still have an in with my father even after the shit you pulled in London. My father, Sean, not me. You don’t have shit with me and you made that perfectly clear.”

He squared his shoulders and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes as I sat on the edge of a beautiful cream colored sofa. I couldn’t wait to sink into it tomorrow with a good book.

I quickly fingered at the straps on my heels and kicked them off while mentally preparing for whatever speech he was about to throw my way.

“I’ve really had enough of you talking to me like I’m some shit person. Enough, Y/N.”

I stood back up, hating that I was smaller than him now as I turned on my heel and headed up the stairs. “If you hate my attitude so much then leave me the fuck alone and let me take a shower in peace.”

* * * * *

My shower was hot and relaxing and everything I needed. As soon as the steam surrounded me, I was able to calm down a bit, and once the hot water hit my skin I was able to sigh in relief. Washing off the blood and grime left me feeling like a whole new woman.

So new, in fact, I briefly forgot about the bane of my existence showering down the hall.

Sean. Showering. Sean in the shower with water dripping down his chest and into that perfect V of his hips. Sean’s hot, wet body pressed against mine. Sean’s-

“Can you not?” I said to my reflection as I ran a brush through my hair. Even when I was angry at him, violently angry, it was impossible to deny that he was attractive.

We never hooked up, not even when we were young. But there was always something there. We flirted. We toyed with each other. We got into nasty arguments. People noticed, my friends made comments. I always ignored them and played it off and said it was because we knew each other forever and just connected that way. They all argued that it was more.

I ignored them.

After changing into a comfortable pair of loose cotton pants and a long sleeved shirt, I made my way downstairs. The windows were open and I could hear the waves crashing against the cliff side. My favorite sound. It gave me peace. It soothed me.

The kitchen was empty and I grabbed a bottle of red wine with every intention of drinking the entire bottle. After pouring a rather large amount into the pristine crystal stemware my mother bought, I threw my head back and took a long, large sip.

Ugh. That’s better. I closed my eyes and took another sip, getting lost in the sound of the waves and the dark, cherry taste of the wine. A moment of peace after all the bullshit I had to endure tonight.

It was only when Sean cleared his throat that I realized I wasn’t alone. He was standing at the bottom of the stairs wearing black sweats and a white t-shirt. Simple. Clean. Comfortable. If this had been a few years ago I would have been aching to curl up against him.

“Kitchen’s all yours,” I said as I grabbed my glass and bottle, preparing to go out back.

“You told me you didn’t want to talk to me anymore.” His words cut like a knife to my retreating back and it made me pause, not yet turning around. “You fucking told me you were done.”

I knew what he was referring to. The last time we spoke had been over the phone, maybe four years ago. It had been a normal night with normal conversation and normal “I miss yous”. Sean had truly been one of my best friends and closest confidants. And then the conversation turned ugly when he informed me his father was sending him out on a seriously violent, potentially fatal, mission. Our argument had gotten vile and I said horrible things. He did too, including telling me to “stop acting like a girlfriend because you’re so fucking lonely”.

That had been my breaking point. He reminded me so much of Finn then. He dressed like him, spoke like him, became a carbon copy of him, and I was having none of it. So I had told him to fuck off and lose my number, to never call me again, to pretend I was dead.

It was the one time Sean listened to me and the one time I wished he hadn’t.

To this day, I got embarrassed when I thought about what he had said to me. The way he screamed and the way he humiliated me. Maybe I was lonely, maybe it came off as clingy, but my intentions were always good and I never thought I was a burden to him. But after that last conversation I spent years telling myself that’s exactly what I was. A burden. I checked in too much, my double texting him probably got on his nerves. Constantly complaining about our families when I knew how fortunate I was to live such a lavish life made me sound spoiled, he got tired of it. I spent years convincing myself there was no possible way he missed me and I didn’t miss him either.

“Do you even remember our last conversation?” I turned slowly to face him. “Do you remember what you said?”

He took a step forward and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Of course I do. I’ve had plenty of time to think about it- you. I’d been out drinking with my father-“

“And then turned into him?”

“Oh, fuck off then.” He shook his head, his frustration evident as he rounded the marble island in the kitchen. An expert, he seemed to know where everything was. The glasses. The whiskey.

“I’m not wrong.” I defended myself.

Sean laughed and the sound was hollow, sarcastic. He took a sip of whiskey before turning to me with a cold look in his eyes. “And I wasn’t wrong that day either. Was I?”

I scowled at him to mask the absolute hurt I was experiencing. My heart ached. He’d known he was hurting me. He didn’t care. He remembered and he didn’t care.

“Oh, fuck you, Sean.” I whispered before quickly pushing through the french doors and stepping onto the deck.

“Oi!” Sean shouted as I slammed the doors behind me, taking off down the steps, wine glass in hand.

“I’m not done talking to you.” Sean was hot on my heels.

“The conversation is over.”

“Like hell it is.” I felt long, thick fingers curl around my elbow and then he was hauling me back against him. “You say what you want to say and then think we’re done. We’re not.”

I ripped my arm back and shoved my finger in his face. “I’ve waited four years to say this shit to you!”

“So have I!” He shouted back, the vein in his neck becoming prominent. The female part of my brain wondered what it would feel like to run my tongue along that vein, feel it pulse against my mouth.

Wrong time, I thought to myself and shook my head. “You fucked off for four years, faked your own death, and now I found out my father has had you following me. I don’t know what kind of weird, stalker fetish you’ve developed, but it’s really not doing anything for me.”

Okay, maybe that last part was flat out bitchy, but at that point I didn’t care.

I drained my wine glass while I waited for his response.

“Would you like to tell me about your fetishes?”

“Sure, they all involve watching you bleed out.”

“Should have been there a year ago then, yeah?”

I didn’t have a response for that. I zeroed in on the left half of his face, the scar on his cheek. His cheekbone curved differently, probably because it was handmade, and his scar disappeared into his stubble. He looked so vastly different from the Sean I used to know. He was hardened by life, by Finn’s life. Thirty and angry and alone and legally dead.

I ached for the Sean I once knew, but this wasn’t him.

“How long have you been watching me?”

“A little more than three months.”

“Three months?” I was shocked. I’d had a tail for three months and I didn’t even know it? How embarrassing.

“You wouldn’t have known.” It was as though he could read my mind. “I’ve always been better at it than you.”

“You’re so fucking cocky.” I didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or slap him, so instead I walked past him and back up the stairs, making my way back into the house to refill my glass. I knew he was following me, knew that the alcohol in my bloodstream was making me feel bold, more bold than I was sober.

Sean closed the French doors, the lock clicking with a tone of finality. I was too aware of it.

“You were shit as hide and seek when we were kids.”

“So that makes you a better spy?”

His tone was serious when he responded. “I was never spying on you. I didn’t have access to your flat. I didn’t follow you around with that ugly wanker with gray hair.”

“Leave Beckett out of this.”

“Beckett?” It was the first time his face had resembled something other than anger. He looked amused. “You’re dating a man named Beckett?”

I cocked my head to the side, narrowing my eyes. “We actually aren’t discussing my dating life, we’re talking about my stalker.”

“Stop saying that. It was to and from work. Only when you were out in public.”

“That doesn’t make it okay!” I finally shouted. None of what happened today was okay. Sean, my dad, the shootout. None of it was okay. “You don’t get to keep up with my fucking life when I have to pretend you’re dead!”

“Lower your voice.” Sean took a step forward.

“Fuck off!” I shouted even louder than before. “You don’t get to just come back and bark orders at me. This isn’t London, Sean!”

“Enough.” He took another step forward and I backed up, reaching for my wine glass.

He was so calm, so fucking collected while I was beginning to fall apart. I hated him for it. Fuck Sean Wallace, I wanted him to hurt the way I did. So, without thinking twice, I hurled my glass at him. Sean barely dodged it, whipping his head to the side as it soared past him and landed on the floor in a million little pieces.

He was a blur as he flew across the kitchen, growling as he slammed my back up against the wall. I cried out as searing pain sent shock waves down my back, but I was too angry to focus on it. My hands instantly went into fight mode and my fingers caught the tip of his nose as I swiped at him, but he pulled his head back, out of my reach.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” He roared in my face. “Are you bloody mental?” His hands circled my wrists and he pinned them at my sides, effectively halting my movements.

Stuck between Sean and the wall, I suddenly couldn’t breathe. “Let me go.”

“The fuck I will.” He squeezed my wrists harder.

“Sean.” I shoved myself against him and he did the same thing, his face even closer than before. I could smell the whiskey on his breath, see the smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks. God, he was a sight. “Fuck. Off.”

His eyes zeroed in on my mouth as I enunciated the words, nostrils flaring slightly. My breasts were pressed against his chest and I couldn’t move even if I wanted to, because suddenly we were staring each other eye to eye and I couldn’t look anywhere else. I was drowning the way I always imagine I would except this time I didn’t want it. I wanted no part of it.

“Don’t even think about it.” I whispered softly.

“Or what?” Sean’s remark felt snide and childish, something I would have happily said to him had he not leaned down and slid his lips over mine. It was a light touch, so soft I barely felt it. But I still gasped because it was Sean’s lips touching mine and I hated that I liked it so much.

At the sound of my sharp intake of breath, he smirked. “I fucking knew it.” And then he smashed his lips against mine, not letting up on the grip he had on my wrists.

Sean’s tongue pushed past my lips and slid against mine, weakening my reserve just a bit. He tasted good, his scruff scratched against the edges of my mouth and I reveled in it, loving how rough he felt.

He fucking engulfed my mouth, taking complete control of the kiss and demanding that I give him more. Forgetting the position we were in, he let go of my wrists in favor of cupping my face, wide palms against my cheeks.

I should have pushed him away, should have told him to leave, but the simple truth was that Sean Wallace knew how to kiss. He kissed like a man, held my face, stroked rough thumbs over my cheekbones, and swallowed my moans. He crowded me, stood so close our torsos were touching while we made out against the kitchen wall. Our tongues touched, teeth clashed, and when I sucked Sean’s bottom lip into my mouth the groan he let out was guttural. Animalistic.

But the noise was enough to bring me back to reality and I shoved my hands against his chest, pushing him away from me as hard as I could.

Sean stumbled back and caught himself on the counter. He was just as caught up as I was, his eyes wild, cheeks flushed red.

“You’ve got some nerve.” I cleared my throat and wiped my mouth, still tasting him on my tongue.

“Me?” He had the audacity to smile, still clearly fired up. “You were the one sucking my lip like it was my cock.”

My cheeks felt hot. The way he said cock with the accent and the smirk… it murdered me on the inside. It absolutely killed me how good it sounded. “You wish.”

“Every fucking night.” Sean stepped forward again. “I think about you sucking my cock every. Fucking. Night.”

His admission left me breathless. It felt like someone had knocked the wind out of me. The thought of Sean laying in bed at night and thinking about my mouth wrapped around his dick lit me up. I was hot everywhere.

“Sean-“

“Shut the fuck up.” He crowded me again, this time wrapping one arm around my back and pulling me against him. “For once in your life, please, Y/N, shut the fuck up.”

Cupping the back of my head, Sean kissed me again. I wanted to fight him, wanted to tell him to fuck off, but that would only prove him right. I really did have a problem with shutting the fuck up.

So, I kissed him back. I gave it my all, twining my arms around his neck and leaning against him. Sean tongue fucked my mouth as though he’d been dying to for years, and after his admission I wondered if he had. His body felt warm against mine and feeling his fingertips glide along the exposed area of my lower back made my knees nearly buckle.

He smiled against my mouth and before I knew it, Sean was sliding both hands down, gripping my hips and hoisting me in the air. My legs locked around his waist instantly, ankles crossing at the small of his back while he carried me through the kitchen.

Our mouths never stopped touching. I’d been waiting years to kiss Sean. I’d been waiting years to slap the fuck out of him as well, but right now the only thing I cared about was keeping our mouths fused together for as long as humanly possible. I felt drunk on him, on the taste of whiskey on his tongue.

I didn’t realize we were in the living room until Sean sat down on the couch with me straddling his lap. I took the opportunity to pull back slightly, his lips chasing my own, and I smiled at the way he leaned forward. I cupped the right side of his face, loving the way his scruff felt against my soft palm. He truly was beautiful, the red-brown hair and beard, the plump mouth that spent more time scowling than smiling. His freckles, God, when we were young I could have spent hours counting them.

And then there was that scar. That brutal, obvious scar. The trauma his body must have gone through made me sick and when I reached up to run my fingers over the jagged, raised skin, Sean was quick to grab my wrist in a bruising grip.

“Don’t touch me there.”

But I wanted to. So badly. But it was clear in his reaction, in the stiffness of his body, that he was serious. Of all the limits Sean DIDN’T have, touching the left side of his face was one of them and I had no choice but to respect it.

“Fine, how about you touch me then?”

It was all the incentive Sean needed and he flipped me onto my back, hovering over me with one hand braces on the back of the couch. Our eyes held as I slid my hands down his chest, his heartbeat pulsing under my hand as I slid lower, lower still until I gripped the hem of his shirt and yanked it up. He leaned back, only for a moment to rip the shirt off his head and send it flying.

Fair skinned with broad shoulders and a tapered waist, I itched to lick the V that disappeared into his waistband. He may have been injured, but he hasn’t been resting this last year. Sean didn’t have the body of a man who rested, he had the Jody of a man who was constantly pushing himself. He was strong in every sense of the word and it made me pathetically, desperately wet for him.

“Your turn,” he said against my lips, fingers playing under my shirt and sliding along my ribs. “You’re so fucking soft.” He whispered against the skin of my cheek.

Unable to help myself, I reached down to cup him through his sweats. Jesus… Christ. “You’re so fucking not.”

Sean laughed then, but I was dead serious. Either Sean was hiding a gun in his pants or his cock was just that fucking solid. And… thick. Even through his pants I could tell. I squeezed once and he let out a guttural groan, the sound sending shock waves between my legs. I wanted that sound on a loop for the rest of my life.

He pushed my shirt up and over my head, eyes zeroing in on my breasts. “Fuck me…” He trailed off, cupping one in his hand and giving a firm squeeze as he settled his eight between my legs. I could feel him against my clit even with barriers of clothing separating us.

“I always wondered what your nipples looked like.” He licked one gently and my back arched hard, my whole body tightening. “They’re so much better than my imagination.”

Sean fastened his mouth against my nipple and he sucked, flicking his tongue against the sensitive bud while I writhed underneath him. My nails scraped through his shirt hair, digging into his scalp and holding him against me. He said he had wondered what they would look like, but I spent the better part of a decade wondering what this would feel like.

Fuck, it felt good.

Sean’s hips ground against mine as he moved to my other nipple, hands roaming felt over my body, gripping my clothes thighs and sliding up my sides. Tracing along my collarbone, fingers tugging at the nipple that wasn’t getting any attention.

I felt like a horny teenager, aching to have him inside me as fast as humanly possible. My nails raked over his shoulders and he gave a delicious growl in return, leaning up and hovering over me again. 

“I’ve thought about your mouth on my cock for ages, but right now the only thing I want is to be buried inside you. That okay?”

I was modding before he even finished speaking. Fuck a blowjob, fuck foreplay. I didn’t need that with Sean, not now. Right now I just needed… connection. I was almost desperate for it and it fucking terrified me.

Sean leaned back on his knees and hooked his fingers into my pants, tugging them down in one swift move and leaving me completely naked and sprawled out in front of him. His eyes raked over me and my breath hitched in my throat. He could see… everything.

“Fuck me… this body was fucking made for me.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, wiggling my brows. “A bit cocky, yeah?”

“No.” His face was serious, eyes focused as they raked over my breasts, my hips, my legs, zeroing in on the spot between my thighs. Sean slid one long, thick finger over my slit and I cried out, my body stiffening. “I knew you’d be bald here.” He repeated the motion. “Been dying to see that tattoo on your thigh for ages.”

I’d gotten the tattoo when I was 20 and officially moved out of my parents house. It was one of those stupid young decisions, but I didn’t regret it. It was a snake that wrapped all the way around my right thigh, the snake’s tongue permanently engraved on my inner thigh like an invitation. Or a warning.

“And?” I asked inquisitively, rubbing a hand absentmindedly down my stomach.

“And I think this body was fucking made for me.”

His lips came crashing down on mine again and I wrapped my bare legs around his waist, loving the way his hip bones pressed into my thighs. He littered kisses over my cheekbone, an oddly sweet gesture, and then absolutely assaulted my neck, licking and biting and nipping at my collarbone until I cried out.

I reached down, yanking at his sweats and pushing them down his thighs with my heels. I was fucking dying for Sean Wallace to be inside of me, I couldn’t even breathe because I wanted him so badly. Needed him, needed to know what it was like to feel him.

“Sean.” I gasped as he braced one hand above my head, the other one gripping his cock and lining it up at my entrance. I gripped his bicep when he pushed the tip in, my nails digging half crescents into his skin.

“Sean.” I repeated his name, this time somewhat panicked because what the fuck was I doing? Was I really about to fuck him?

“Remember when I told you to shut the fuck up?” Sean’s eyes met mine and he gave one sharp, hard thrust and was suddenly inside me so deep I swore I could feel him in my cervix.

I didn’t even have time to gasp, my mouth fell open in a silent scream and Sean’s groan was something I’d think about for months. He was so deep I felt as though I couldn’t breathe, looking up at him completely frozen.

“Oh, fuck.” He finally breathed out. “That’s right, so good you can’t even speak.”

“I… hate you.” I finally managed, leaning up and catching his bottom lip between my teeth, tugging so hard he let out a groan of pain.

“You don’t hate me.” Sean pulled nearly all the way out before slamming back inside me, giving me no warning or time to breathe. But the yelp I let out was enough to make him smirk.

Cocky bastard.

Fine, I could play. Tightening my legs around his waist, I raked my nails down his back and watched his face change, jaw clenching tight. I licked his collarbone before sucking the skin there. I sucked hard and didn’t stop until I felt his fingers tangle in my hair and yank me back, forcing me to look at him.

“You’re not the fucking boss right now.” He practically growled the words, not letting up on the grip on my hair. He pumped in and out of me, my scalp pricking with a weird, pleasurable pain that left me moaning for more.

Sean’s thrusts got harder and I cried out when he hit that spot, so deep I could feel him everywhere. “Sean!” I cried his name, my breath hitching in my throat.

He let my hair go in favor of those perfect ducking fingers wrapping around my throat. His thumb pressed firmly under my jaw, I had no other choice but to look at him as he fucked me into oblivion.

“Fuck, I missed you.” He groaned, pressure on my throat tightening just a bit. “Thought about you every fucking day.”

I was instantly thrown back into reality. Everything that happened that day. The shooting. Sean coming back from the dead, all of it.

“Nope, stay with me.” Sean commanded, sensing my disconnect. He slowed his thrusts leaning down to lick at my lips lightly. It was oddly erotic and I found myself whimpering for more. “That’s it, relax for me.”

“I…” I started desperately. “I can’t. Sean-“

He squeezed my throat harder and I suddenly gasped, my air being cut off. “Relax.” His voice was oddly soothing. “You can still breathe.”

I shook my head.

He paused his thrusts, once again settling deep inside me with my legs splayed. “Yes, you can. I’m not squeezing that hard. Breathe.”

I took in a breath. It was shallow, but it was there. Letting it out slowly, I repeated the motion, Sean catching on and thrusting every time I exhaled. It all felt different like this, barely able to breathe and dripping wet onto the couch. I’d never wanted someone more and I was terrified, I’d never been “handled” the way he was handling me, treating me like I was his.

“Been waiting years to feel you come on my cock.” He groaned when he released my throat, leaning back on his heels and looking down at where we were connected. “God, you’re soaked. Made a proper mess all over me.”

I moaned because at that point words were not possible. My stomach felt tight, I felt like I was going to cry or laugh or scream. I felt like I was going crazy.

And then Sean rubbed his thumb over my clit, watching me jerk, and I knew I was done for. He did it again and again, giving me shallow strokes while he rubbed the little bundle of nerves that were certainly going to send me into a tailspin.

“Sean, please.” My back arched and I shouted, so fucking close, teetering on the edge.

“Come all over my cock so I can watch you lick it off after.”

My mouth fell open and I screamed his name, my orgasm hitting me like a ton of bricks. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling Sean lean over me and wrap an arm around my back.

He picked up the pace while I clung to him, whispering in my ear about how he’d wanted it forever, how this was his, how I was his. It was overwhelming, yet I couldn’t bring myself to do anything other than rake my nails through his hair and whisper his name over and over again in his ear.

“Fuck.” Sean’s groan was long and low, stroking into me one, two, three more times before holding himself still, his climax hitting him as hard as mine hit me. 

His arms shook as he held himself over me, eventually collapsing onto my chest in a huff. We sat there silently, the sound of the waves crashing against the cliff side lulling us. Sean’s right cheek was pressed against my breast and his dick was still inside me. He was as close as he could possibly be but I somehow wanted him closer. I wanted to fucking absorb him into my body, keep him there forever and enjoy the weight of him on me.

“Sean?” I whispered, wondering if he was still awake.

“Hm?”

I ran my fingers lightly over the back of his neck and delighted in his shiver. “I’m really glad you’re not dead.”

He lifted his head then, searching my face for some sort of emotion, but I forced myself to remain stoic. It took Sean fucking my brains out for me to realize how much I missed him. How much I fucking loved him. But I couldn’t tell him that, I couldn’t give him that much power over me.

“Today was the first time in a year that I was thankful that bullet didn’t kill me.” Sean’s words were honest, quiet.

We didn’t say anything after that, we didn’t really need to. In that moment we were safe, together after years of being apart, and now all we had to do was wait for word from my father. Until then, I was going to enjoy whatever time I had with Sean and I prayed I would never have to pretend he was dead again.

#joe cole #sean wallace #gangs of london #gol #smut #fic

[babyspiderling]

Little Red Corvette p.2 Michael Jackson x reader

(Bad Era)

Eight Months Later (1983)

I did this pregnancy on my own. My mother was appalled at the fatherless child growing inside of me and refused to support me through my pregnancy. The struggles and frustrations for the past nine months very easily justified when I held my baby boy in my arms. His skin was a beautiful shade of brown, his eyes deep and pulling like his fathers. Looking down at the tiny human finally in the world, there was no question or doubt in my mind who the father was. By blessing or curse, I was the only one who knew who the father was. Relatively early in my pregnancy, Michael released a video for one of his songs "Billie Jean". I sat and stressed over the possibility of him knowing of the child in my womb for weeks, but nothing came of it. No managers offering hush money, no reporters asking about the legitimacy of the child inside of me, nothing, so life went on. Looking down at the life in my arms, snuggled towards me I spoke softly. "Edward Michael L/N. My little blessing."

1986

It wasn't too long after Edward, or Eddie was born that I went back to work. I hired a sitter, or depending on the client, brought him in with me. Whitney Houston and Cher absolutely gushed over him during breaks. When Eddie was three, I got a call from Quincy Jones asking me to help him out on the mixing on an album. I agreed and found someone to watch my son while I worked. Quincy didn't tell me who I was hired for and I didn't want to seem unprofessional to whoever Quincy was working with. I kissed my three year old good-bye and got into my car to head to the studio they were using. "Bye Blessing! Mommy's going to work, but I'll be home soon. I love you so much!" I drove through the California traffic to the studio and parked my car near the front. I checked myself in the mirror before making my way inside.

"Y/N! You made it! Where's Eddie? You know you can bring him any time? Little dude has got potential if you ever want him to get into our world." I laugh at Quincy's antics. "Yeah, I know you love Eddie. Thank you for the compliment, but he's three, Q. He's not going into show business any time soon." Q shrugs his shoulders and turns back to the soundboard in his rolling chair. "Alright, let's get down to business shall we?" He nods and presses play on the vocals. I feel the blood drain from my face as a familiar voice croons from the speakers.

"I don't care what you talkin' 'bout baby, I don't care what you say. Don't you come walkin' beggin' back mama,I don't care anyway"

I stand stock still in shock, flashes of our one night together, my isolated pregnancy, my little boy waiting at home for me. I yank myself out of it with a sharp gasp when Q places a hand on my elbow, his eyebrows creased in worry. "Hey, Y/N, you good? You look like you've seen a ghost. What's going on?" I swallow and tuck my hair behind my ear, a nervous tick. "Yeah, I'm fine Q. I don't know what that was. How're we mixing this one?" He sits back in his chair, taking a deep breath and heaving it out in a large sigh. "Yeah, about that. Smelly's really particular on how he wants each track to sound on this album. He wants his voice to be layered in a harmony with himself during the chorus. He's recorded the audio, now it's our turn to get it just the way he wants." I nod and sit down in my own chair, slipping the large, bulky headphones over my ears to start working. The sooner I can finish working on Michael's album the better.

"Alright! Two music heads working on that was much faster than just me. I've got a few more tracks to work on before the release of the album. You good to come in say, day after tomorrow? Early morning so we can get a lot done. And bring Eddie. I miss my godson." I laugh and roll my eyes, giving Quincy a playful shove on the shoulder. "Works for me. And yes, I'll bring Eddie if the 'Client' won't mind a toddler running around the studio space while we work." Q chuckles and reclines in his chair. "No, he won't mind. I have a feeling you know who we're working for here?" I nod, and grab my purse off the ground. "Alright, you know it's Michael. I promise he won't mind. He loves kids" I nod, not really looking forward to potentially forcing Michael into Eddie's life out of obligation. I drive home reflecting on the strange chain of events that brought me here in the first place. I pull into the driveway and unlock the door. I drop my things on the floor where I stand and catch my little boy running into my arms. "Mommy! Me and April painteded! Come see! Come see!" He wiggles out of my arms and drags me to the fridge by my wrist. He bounces where he stands as I look at his painting. It was surprisingly detailed for a three year old. I smile proudly at him as I turn to my sitter, April. "Thank you for watching him so last minute. I really appreciate it." She just smiles at me and grabs her purse from the table. "Oh, Ms. L/N, it's really no trouble. Eddie is just the best kid ever. He was so funny during lunch. I had the radio playing while we ate and he just sat there, dancing in his seat. He didn't even realize he was doing it! But honestly, he is the easiest kid I have ever watched." I pay her and walk her out to her car parked on the street. I turn back to Eddie with a smile. "Wanna eat and watch a movie tonight with Mommy?" My blessing nods his head so hard and fast, I think it'll fly off like a bobble head with a loose spring. "Alright bud, what do you want for dinner?" "PIZZA!" I chuckle at my little boy. "Alright, pizza it is."

I buckle Eddie in the backseat, and climb into the front seat myself. "We're gonna see Uncle Q today buddy! Mommy has to make some music, but you get to hang out with us!" He kicks his legs in the air and gives a shout of excitement. "Yay Uncle Q!" I turn on the radio and look over my shoulder to pull out of the driveway to get to the studio. Parking, I pull the keys out of the ignition and grab Eddie, reminding him to put his backpack on. I hold his hand as we make our way to the studio, the front empty. I sit Eddie down on the chair and go to grab a cup of coffee from the lobby. "I'll be right back baby. I'm gonna get some coffee, and find Uncle Q ok?" He nods and swings his legs in the chair. I hand him the truck from his bag and kiss his forehead before leaving.

I bumped into Quincy in the hall after getting my coffee and went back to the studio space together. When we opened the door, a slim caramel skinned man was kneeling before my son, talking and laughing with him. At the sound of the door opening, Eddie glanced at us. "Mommy! Uncle Q! I made a new friend! His name is Michael, like me!" I widen my eyes in shock at his innocent chatter. Quincy scoops up his godson and chuckles. "Oh yeah Eddie? And what did you guys talk about?" Eddie wraps his arms around Q's neck. "We talked about drawing! Michael is very really good at coloring!" Q humors his godson, chuckling at the boy who has him wrapped around his little finger. While the two talk Michael lifts himself from the ground and introduces himself. "Hi, I'm Michael. I don't think we've been introduced." He sticks out his hand and I feel conflicted. I was so afraid of him noticing me, connecting the dots, but it hurt a bit that I meant so little to him. In his defense, it was one night, four years ago. I grasp his hand and introduce myself again. "Y/N. I'm mixing for your album with Q. You've already met my son, Eddie." He shakes my hand, and smiles back at Eddie. "He's a joy. I was recording and didn't know he was here. I look up and little guy's just dancing in his seat like crazy. He was just coloring on a blank sheet of paper. Sweet kid." I nod and swallow. "Let's get to work, shall we?" Michael nods and goes to the soundboard to listen to the new version of "Leave Me Alone". I watch Michael bob his head to the rhythm, as Eddie dances in the corner. I nibble and pull on my lips in a nervous tick. The music fades out and Michael looks at Q and I with a smile. "Awesome guys! Just what I wanted. I want Y/N as my mixer for the rest of the album. That good Quincy?" Quincy bounces Eddie in his lap, grinning. "Of course it's good! Gotta teach my godson the ropes right?" I smile and ruffle Eddie's hair lovingly, nodding along. Q, Eddie, and I occupy the main front of the studio space as Michael goes back to record another track.

The day goes by quickly, Q leaving the three of us alone to grab lunch. I sit at the recording desk and write down a few lyrics here and there, a melody and message in my head dying to get out. I glance over at my son and see him and Michael goofing around. I smile sadly, imagining what our lives would be like if Michael didn't leave that morning, if he knew he had a son with me. I guess I didn't realize how long I had been staring at the two until my son met my eyes, causing him to run to me in a comforting manner. "Mommy, what's wrong?" I shake off the sadness and force a smile on my face to keep my caring boy from worrying over me. "I'm fine baby. Just a bit tired. It may be Mommy's nap time soon." He nods and giggles, kissing my cheek before going back to Michael. Michael picks up Eddie, placing him on his hip, and walks towards me. 'Hey, Y/N, if you want, you can take a nap in the recording studio. I've got a couch back there. I can come and get you when Quincy comes back with lunch. I try to turn down his offer, but a yawn interrupts my objection. Michael gently guides me to the studio and sits me down on the couch, exiting and turning the lights out on the way. Against my wishes, I close my eyes and succumb to the peace of sleep.

I groggily pulled myself from the depths of dreamland at the sounds of people talking and laughing. I heard Eddie and Michael talking and it immediately caught my attention. "So, your mom makes music, your Uncle Q makes music, what does your dad do?" I peek out from the window and see Eddie and Michael sitting on the floor, rolling toy trucks around, a takeout container setting on the desk. "I don't know. I don't have a dad. Mommy plays Mommy and Daddy. She goes to all my games, plays with me, teaches me how to put on shoes." From where I stand, I can't see Michael's face, and I decide now is a good time to get back out there. I open the door and both boys look up at me. I glance at my watch and see that it's about time to go home. "Hey, sorry I slept so long. Why didn't you wake me up?" Michael shrugs and stands. "You looked so peaceful while you slept. Didn't want to wake you, let alone let you drive home tired. Lunch got here not too long ago so your food should still be warm. I was actually about to head home myself if you're ok with coming in tomorrow instead? We can keep working." I nod and grab my container. "In case I get here before you, what are you wanting to do with the other tracks?" I eat my food as he goes over what he wants to be done with a couple other songs to be put on the album. Now finished with my food, I throw away my empty container, asking Eddie to pack up so we can head home. Before we leave, Q comes back in, sad that we have to leave so soon. I promise to bring Eddie back tomorrow if that's alright with Michael, which it of course is. I give a hug to Q, and an awkward hug/handshake maneuver to Michael. Eddie practically tackles the both of the men in hugs and races to grab my hand. As we leave, I can faintly hear Michael tell Q "She seems so familiar, like I've met her before."

Taglist: @accio-boys​

#michael jackson #michael jackson imagine #michael jackson x reader #80's series #80s imagines #80's imagine #80's x reader #80's fanfiction

[tundrainafrica]

AND LISTEN TO HALLEY'S COMMET- BILLIE EILISH IT'S LEVIHAN IN LOVEBUG

I just had to write something because this song made me imagine a scene.

Note:

Set at the end of Chapter 6 of Lovebug after Hange spoils Levi on PnP.

Light Zekehan smut so I’m gonna hide it under the cut.

Zeke had always been a gentleman.

In public, it was expected. Even late at night though, just the two of them in the room, he always found a way to make Hange feel precious.

He went through the motions slowly and patiently. He asked her the right things, easing her through it with questions weaved into one another so smoothly, it could have been story telling.

Does it hurt? Does it tickle? Do you want me to continue? He always opened up the privilege of choice to Hange.

Those nights were always about her. She would decide when a little fondle of the breasts could develop to his hands scurrying over her stomach, then down underneath the folds. She would decide when he could insert his fingers a little deeper. With every shift of movements, he always whispered little reminders and she was never left unprepared.

When the blood would rush to Hange’s face, sometimes she would let out a louder breath than usual. And Zeke always noticed it. He would press his palms against her cheek and the heat radiated more brightly, licking into her cheeks like a weak flame.

That day was no different. He went through the motions like it was his life’s work. He had years to learn, it would have been strange if he didn’t.

Hange had those years under her belt too. She ran on instinct and naturally, she knew which way to sway as he nuzzled his mouth onto her chest.

He bit and he started to suck. There was a mischievous tickle as his tongue traced shapes on her neck. Every now and then, a light stinging pain would follow. Late nights though, alone in the room, it was an unpredictable stinging sensation most others would welcome.

After all, it just made everything happen all the more quickly, it added some color at least to something so routine. By some primitive instinct, Hange’s body knew the exact moment to fall back on the bed. She spread her legs open, reached out her hands, offering some support Zeke probably didn’t need.

He was as coordinated as she was. Either way, he still took her hands, in some attempt to humor her maybe? He climbed over her.

Cheeks flushed. Breathes ragged. She was more than ready and they had years of practiced intimacy to read signs and gestures. The motions leading up to it were methodical, he didn’t tease her for any longer.

He thrust it inside her and Hange swayed to that same rhythm.

Predictable. When the rhythm was slow, when his movements were as gentle, Hange had to admit, it was terribly boring, predictable, tedious. So monotonous, she was coming up with every other word in the dictionary to describe it as they swayed.

Zeke had finished before she did. By some strong sense of obligation, Hange let out a sharp breath clipped by a soft croak.

Maybe Zeke had fallen for it anyway. He pulled out, slipped off the condom and fell to the side of the bed. “You okay?”

Or maybe he didn’t fall for it. “Toilet,” Hange said. She slowly and subtly reached for the side of the bed, she quickly pulled it towards and pressed it close. Just in case he’d ask why she’d have her phone with her.

Somehow, just the prospect of him noticing the phone had her hair bristling. He shouldn’t mind. Bringing a phone to the toilet wasn't too suspicious of a scene. It was three in the morning, he was exhausted and Zeke didn’t look at all interested. He had turned to his side, towards the window, and his breathing was slowly evening out.

Still, Hange was careful the whole way to the toilet. She couldn’t subdue that hyperawareness. The dim lights of the lamp, the stale darkness that made the other corners of the room seem like some abyss. She knew she had the early morning peace and silence on her side.

But her mind continued to race. Would she have been able to respond with something so casual?

Calming herself down was a matter of discipline. She took a deep breath, focused on the plush floors beneath her feet. She counted the steps towards the bathroom.

Their bedroom was large, a small two bedroom apartment for most people. Enough to occupy two bedrooms with a bathroom. For Hange and Zeke, their large large bedroom was enough for two closets, a sofa bed, a TV, and a few bookshelves.

At night, it was a maze. Hange was clever though and she memorized it long before. Even with just one dim light from the lamp, Hange knew distance, she knew direction. If she kept her steps small and soft and followed that same direction to the light, she would count twenty steps.

Twenty excruciating steps when she was fighting the blood rush, her sporadic breaths and just the possibility that Zeke might ask how she is again.

Why are you so jumpy? Hange asked herself. There were only so many ways to respond in the infinitesimally small chance that Zeke did ask her how she was.

Toilet. Tired. Sleepy. Hange didn’t like to lie though, she didn’t like to answer questions when she herself was in that strange in-between state between knowing the answer and just hating it enough to choose not to understand it.

She closed the door behind her with a click, relieved it didn’t come off as a slam. She took great pains to silence her phone. Nervousness had her neglecting to turn on the light. She wasn’t in any hurry though. She basked in the superficial security that came with complete darkness and her phone at the dimmest and the softest setting.

She opened her inbox to see the two names right on top of the other.

Zeke Jaeger

Levi Ackerman.

Hange’s movements were quick. She clicked on Levi’s contacts, then she hovered her hand over the call button. Her thumb stopped a hair's breadth from the screen.

Would Levi have appreciated a very early morning call from a random business partner? No, he wouldn’t.

Her thumb moved briskly. She closed the messaging app and turned on the Love Alarm. As expected, it didn’t ring. Hange was almost tempted to take Zeke’s alarm just to check for herself.

The possibility of the alarm not ringing again was a glaring thought. Just imagining waking Zeke up only to show him that it wasn’t ringing had her heart pounding in her ears. Stealing her husband’s phone would never be worth it.

But Levi had said to her the day before, the love alarm would still be gathering data, even when the alarms didn’t ring.

Hange left the toilet with one text sent.

5/15 3:23AM. Check my body heat, serotonin levels, dopamine levels…

Levi probably wouldn't be checking messages until early in the morning. Would he check it early in the morning? In the afternoon? Would he call or would he message her back?

Alone, hunched on the toilet, Hange felt a rush of guilt as she checked the time again. She spent ten minutes thinking about Levi. She shook her head, and took a big gulp of air.

By the time she made it back on the bed, Zeke was snoring peacefully. Careful not to wake him, Hange pulled her side of the bed slowly and gently and she willed herself to say some words just for him.

“Zeke, I love you,” she sang softly. She pulled the blanket over her.

Just for him? Or maybe for her.

“Love you,” she whispered again when she was right in front of him.

He didn’t wake. And soon, Hange realized, she was just as exhausted as he was.

Maybe dreams were born from instinct. Maybe they were born from something else.

Whether she had appreciated it or not though, she could have sworn that night, she had dreamt something clear, almost lucid.

Not of Zeke, but of one clean freak.

#drabbles #drabble #fanfic

[dorki-c]

My Guardian Demon| Chapter 1, Part 3: Inheritance

Relationship: Izuku Midoriya X (Reader)

Rating: 16+

A/N: I thought writing this part would be really hard...Nope. Not at all. I’m surprised! I hope you all enjoy!

TW: Brief mention of Fire, Swearing 

[Masterlist] [<— Previous| Next —>]

(Song recommendation for this chapter: All the good girl’s go to hell By Billie Eilish)

PROMPT QUESTION FOR THIS STORY ARC: Are all demons ‘bad’?

“But I’m not giving up on my dream, if you aren’t going to give up on yours.”

Alas, the gloriously golden sun highlighted the features of the old dusk that was soon turning into their new dawn.

(And might I say, if society got in their way, they will pay their dues the hard way.)

The two of them knew they had to paint the sky a fresh light blue, to develop the painting of the environment with creative splatters of white to resemble the clouds.

With the sun almost sliding to horizon’s edge, a cloudy vermillion mist (that was his demon) slipped into the view of the sun, highlighting their features but not letting a shadow smudge the surface of the pretty earth that the star ruled over.

“I know you won’t give up on your dream.” Even from three footsteps away, Izuku could still make out the multitude of voices mixed together. 

“So, I won’t give up on my own dream.” Although, even if one voice is made up of many sounds, that doesn’t mean it can’t resonate with tenacity.

“Got it!”

From a roof top of an apartment building to the lonesome streets below, it was still unbelievable to the middle schooler that he…literally met All Might.

(And that he had learned of All Might’s weakness.)

Nonetheless, after every battle we grow stronger.

(Right?)

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

The days of our years always past through fingertips that have soaked in sin.

Yet, those who want to fight are the ones who shoulder said sins like an unlucky medal garnished in pure gold.

And how this medal got passed into Izuku’s somehow capable hand, who knows?

Where the demon stood at the back of the mass of people surrounding them, Izuku was at front of the crowd. A racing horse of many thoughts drowned his selfish needs and his demon’s hopeless demands.

How can he prove to society that he is capable to be a hero?  

How can he do it?

The scene of a filthy crime, the stage was set with a hostage and villain. One of them had manifested as a flaxen haired male, maybe around Izuku’s age? Though the moment the green-haired boy saw a familiar dandelion crackling outlining the big BOOM destroying the landscape around the hostage—he just started moving too fast for his demon’s claws to catch.

(T-That’s—that’s the same villain who attacked him!)

At first, a cold breeze of (what he believes might be) your hands about to catch him. Were you about to halter or allow him to write a new beginning?

(No, you weren’t stopping Izuku. Did you want to see this event play out?)

Sure, when the main act was about to end, maybe another new role can rush in and save the show.

Why were you staying behind? Did you approve of his actions? Izuku thought you hated it when he played the saviour role. Was he wrong?

(Izuku has never been a clairvoyant, however, he can be a saviour.)

Knocking and shoving past the innocently confused bystanders, visions of red scorching the surface of the road, the sight of that same gloopy villain cackling in satisfaction at the catch they managed to reel in.

“None of us have the right quirks to stop a villain like this!” The false heroes would always say.

“I’m not a real hero…” The Symbol of Peace may whisper to himself after saving many people.

“I want to be a hero!” Is the cry of a boy whose been doubted for his whole life.

Will he be successful in his attempt of grabbing “KACCHAN!” out of the sludge after throwing his yellow bag straight at the target?

(He ends up hitting the villain’s eye! Whoop! Whoop! Bullseye! )

If it wasn’t the summer sun of this fateful day.

Then it was the memories of childhood youth coming to ride the sailing riptide of the small green-haired boys kindness.

Where pebbles tumbled down the riverway above the stream of shallow river water travelling downwards was a large tree trunk pretending to be a safe bridge for the five children carelessly bumbling across it.

As the ringleader lost his footing and slipping down, down, down into the small riptide, if it wasn’t for the cicadas- clicking away with their summery sounds whilst they hide in the bushes- then a small splosh of water could’ve sounded like splashing into a large rain puddle.

(But it didn’t, instead the sound was nearly as silent as a dormouse sneaking into your fridge for cheese.)

Underneath Mother Nature’s bridge, casted a shadow blanketing the vermillion mist where the desolate being stood waiting for its owner to notice them, but the owner ignores the mist like he usually did and opts for helping the blonde-haired ringleader.

(He’s always helped people. (Y/n) can’t tell you when he hasn’t helped anybody.)

Extending his chubby baby hands, the green haired boy asked the blonde one “are you alright?” Though the demon knows that Izuku didn’t intend for that sentence to make the other child to narrow their crimson eyes.

However, whoever anybody is, Izuku will always extend a hand.

This does not exempt from his childhood friend, Bakugo Katsuki.

(This is what it means to be a saviour. Not a hero.)

The performance of a brave act had concluded with a boring aftermath.

(Like how can a demon say that watching All Might change the weather was exciting?)

Clobbered around Izuku’s tired form was a few (false) heroes who lectured him about how he should “be careful, because you could’ve easily died” to that villain.

(Though the demon had the audacity to scoff at the shitty remarks, if those heroes did their jobs properly and pulled Bakugo out of the villain’s grasps, then Izuku wouldn’t have had to.)

Let’s not forget, that Izuku was the one who had the guts to do what the heroes couldn’t do and that Bakugou was praised for his bravery.

What ‘bravery’ was there to show? If anything, those vermillion eyes showcased fifty shades of fear and that’s not tipping the iceberg of what those falsities had said about bravery.

(They were only boosting his ego.)

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

“Do you think I did the right thing, (y/n)?” Izuku muttered out loud, although his demon was occupied with ignoring the ‘demon therapy’ poster that hung desolate on a lamp post and instead had the goal of catching a freaking butterfly.

When their hand reached out to grab it. They halted, turned towards Izuku, then asked “were you talking” because they were highly busy trying to catch an insignificant insect to notice that Izuku said something out loud.

“N-no! Don’t worr—” A rough, maybe a tad bit too loud of a bark cut Izuku off when he heard the familiar insult of “DEKU!” from the distance.

“Oh god, what does Bakugo want?” Izuku simply shrugged. Nobody really knows what Bakugo wants anymore. Is it validation? Pride? A sense of superiority?

Nobody, not even Izuku’s demon, could make out what he wanted by his little prompt speech about not owing Izuku a dime of gratefulness. With his whole act of calling Izuku a “quirkless failure who wouldn’t cut out to be a shitty rent-a-cop, even if he tried.”

Furthermore, how dare the blonde-haired boy think that Izuku was looking down on him. He first calls Izuku a “weakling” after all he had done, then accuses him that “he did nothing to help,” and then decided to strut off like the moody teenager he is.

(But what if you were mistaken to think he was moody?)

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

When passing maybe two, perhaps three corners of rows with houses lined down the sides of the passageways, with boxed in backyards and the sun starting to lay its weary head down for a long desolate nap, Izuku was once again setting his mind straight and into autopilot.

“Hey Izuku?” You were asking the questions and he was answering back with his answers. Usually, you either stayed quiet or screamed at anybody (besides his mom) who dared to touch his precious face, so if he was guessing why you were asking him a question; it was because you were asking him an ‘important’ question (or so you labelled them to be important, because they seriously aren’t).

“Y-Yes (Y/n)?”

And of course, Izuku isn’t clairvoyant, so how would he know that your upcoming question was “what were the colours of the sky?” since your quite forgetful at times.

What? Why were you asking that question again? He’s told you a couple times before “there’s only one colour of the sky, its blue” but knowing you and your airheaded attitude, he has to stay patient. With your small nod to his answer, you seemed satisfied with the small talk until—

“I AM HERE!” Booms behind the green-haired boy (unexpectedly).

If it wasn’t for puberty, then Izuku could’ve lost his voice by the singlehanded scream of “ALL MIGHT! WHERE DID YOU COME FROM?!”

(And what’s the point of saying “I stand for justice!” when you can’t stand up in your hero form for five minutes before spewing blood from your mouth?)

All joking aside, when the pro-hero stood in front of Izuku in his rawest form, he had a statement to say for the green-haired boy.

“Young man, I came here to thank you and discuss your question.” What? All Might was giving up his time and energy to speak to him? A quirkless nobody?

Well…colour his demon’s pointed look at the worn-down man, in the richest colours of a rainbow. What does this pro-hero want with Izuku? .

.

.

“If you hadn’t told me about your life or had run into that fight, then I would have been a worthless bystander.” With the movement of his face allowing the thin-skinned cheek muscles to stretch his lips up to his onyx encircled blue eyes, All Might had presented the most sincerely painful smile he could muster in this small snippet of time.

Though, not surprisingly enough, this caught Izuku off guard. His expression paling as he frantically waved his hands about and only managing to utter the words of “N-no! No! It was my fault to begin with! If I hadn’t wasted your time and made you drop the villain t-then--!”

All Might cutting Izuku off mid-sentence was like a miracle out of the ninth circle of hell for (Y/n).

“I’m not done talking,” Hushing the 14 year old, All Might had continued his statement from earlier, “You told me you were powerless, so when I was standing in the crowd—watching this timid, quirkless kid rush into danger.”

The pro-hero paused in trying to find the right words.

“That inspired me to act as well.”

With a hand on his heart, the moment was truly overwhelming for Izuku.

“AND WITH THAT!”

All Might had poofed back into his hero form as soon as the sent his exclamation out to the world.

“I HAVE DEEMED YOU WORTHY OF INHERITING MY POWER!”

(Wait…what?)

The revelation of what the hero had unveiled to both the green-haired boy and his red demon was very confusing to process.

(And when did heroes become so self-righteous? Like jeez, calm down on that ego of yours All Might!)

Taglist:

@glitterfreezed, @izukubabe​, @sweater-weather-seven, @nyanyabisjjj, @quietlegends, @dragonsdreamoffire​, @candybabey​, @honeylavender13​​

CREDITS:

All content and art used within this story belongs to their respective owners. PLAGARISM WILL NOT BE TOLERATED!

Art credits: Dorki-C and @glitterfreezed​

[MASTERLIST OF “My Guardian Demon”]​ [MAIN MASTERLIST]

#Izuku midoriya #Izuku midoriya mha #Izuku midoriya bnha #Toshinori Yagi mha #All Might bnha #all might mha #Izuku midoriya x y/n #Izuku Midoriya X you #Izuku Midoriya X Demon! Reader

[malethirsty]

Beats, Alleys & Seats - Billy (Asphyxiation) / Kinktober 2020

Summary: Tired of coming up short at the bar, you decide to step out of your comfort zone, but when you entangle with the club’s bad guy Billy, you step becomes a massive leap. 

Warnings: Smut (21+), Bareback (Wrap Before You Tap!), Choking-BDSM (Have a safe word!)

Whilst it seems like a Gen Z thing, clubbing has been a tradition passed on through the generations, whether it be your folks at a punk rock bar, a disco lounge, or you at a nightclub with Dance music, the aim is still the same, arrive, drink till you get drunk, tipsy or have enough to still stay safe, dance around to the music, live in the moment and then leave when the times right with someone new on your arm, or head out alone, filled with the memories of how good the night was and crave the opportunity to return when you can. You had done the latter so many times that you’d become tired of constantly coming up short, so as you eschewed your usual nightlife clothes and donned something more risqué, coated in leather, striding down to the club on the side of the street of your apartment complex, one aim was on your mind: Get Thoroughly Fucked. You’d become a regular at the bar, so getting in through the line wasn’t an issue, and you were once again met with the thudding of EDM and strobe lights flashing an array of colours as people moved around in random patterns fitting their definition of the word ‘dancing’. You’d decided tonight instead of throwing yourself into the music, you’d strike right at the heart of the source of lonely patrons looking for a casual fuck: The Bar.

So you crossed over to the counter where people were collecting their drinks and moving along to tables so they could sip and relax, deciding spur of the moment on your order “Sex On The Beach please” you told the bartender, who immediately grabbed together the various juices, vodka and the cocktail shaker “Looking for some action tonight?” the tender quizzed as he shook the mixer, tossing it around a bit to wrangle the mixtures together “Yeah” you responded “You’ve got your work cut out for you. You need to approach the right person at the earliest hour, otherwise you’ll get waved on, clubbers are vicious, especially when it gets real late like now.” Whilst you nodded and gave a courteous ‘uh huh’ at his advice, innerly you realised how deep you’d have to dive in order to secure your catch of the night, however as you scanned the room, you caught sight of a table with one of the regulars drinking alone, he was wearing a leather vest, was decked in tattoos on his sleeves, and looked like he knew how to fuck someone up, both literally and sexually. You had recognised him as he was often in the bar on the nights you came, he didn’t usually stay for long, usually he’d leave with some girl, or get into a fight due to sleazy behaviour and have to be escorted out by the security guards, you knew he was hot, and had wanted to approach him before, but alongside his various exhibits, your nerves held you back, not tonight though. 

Your revery was interrupted by the bartender tapping you on the shoulder, you turned as he presented you with your cocktail of choice. You paid the tender and shot a thank you his way as he left to continue to take orders from the other patrons coming up the bar, taking the cocktail, you made your way over to your targets table, swerving around so as to not knock over your cocktail by colliding with passing raving clubbers. You eventually arrived without spilling a drop, and crossed over to the man, taking a seat on the lounge directly opposite his position on the table. He looked up as you took your seat, before staring down at his glass before commenting “Usually people ask if the seat’s taken before they sit with someone.” He seemed a bit disgruntled, brought on by the beers he’d been going through, but you didn’t come all this way to not stand your ground “If this seat had been taken, it wouldn’t be occupied for long, you’d be out dancing with the person, or fucking their brains out in the bathroom. And when were you such a stickler for this clubs rules?” He looked up “You a fucking staff member or something? Tailing me so you can get on my ass later?” You took a sip of your cocktail, the liquid seemingly giving you the confidence to retort “No just a humble fan who’s a regular here. And I’d rather you on my ass, but somewhere in private rather than get you thrown out again, eh?” “Feisty aren’t cha, I like em feisty, what’s your name pretty?” “Y/N” you responded, this was going well “Y/N” he repeated as if swishing the way it sounded around in his mouth “Well Y/N, my names Billy. You might wanna drink up before someone spikes your drink.” 

Taking his advice head on, you skulled the rest of your drink, not an easy task, given the fact your cocktail contained vodka, the Russian delicacy burning your throat as it went down. You hacked a bit, gulping for air, but you were determined to not let this break you “Damn, that shit’s strong.” You commented mattarfactly to Billy, as if you were making a comment about the weather, he raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed “Scrawny guy like you, didn’t think you’d be able to handle that, people like you pussy out and make it without the vodka so they can swig it better.” “Do they now? Well to tell you something, don’t let my looks fool you, I can take em hard.” You knew your innuendo had worked as Billy shifted on the lounge, due to the fact that his dick had begun to harden in his pants. Knowing you were getting to him, you continued “In fact, this is quite tame, but what do you expect from this bar, you have soft drinks, weak ass security, and one night stands who’s holes are so wide, they can’t even grip your dick properly.” “You’re a regular here, what does that say bout you?” Billy sharply responded. Damn, he was good, but you were better, you knew it so you did what you could to counter his smart retort “I told you, don’t let my looks fool me, I’m not one of the usual girls who flings their panties at you begging you to get your dick wet, I’m taking my time, working out what gets you off, so that when I get to ride that wave of orgasm later, I’m not the only one getting off.” “And what do I like Y/N?” Billy questioned, his voice now becoming very soft, his bravado dropping, as if testing you “You like someone to be on your wavelength, to acknowledge you, how sharp you are, how hot you are, but also someone who can sink beneath you so you are still in charge. And if you let me Billy, I can be all that and more, so, what do you say big boy?” 

Billy swallowed deeply, before letting out a heavy breath, leaning over the table he whispered in your ear “I say you should come over here, sit on my lap and give me a test ride Mr. Confident.” The dance floor at this point was packed with people, so thankfully the security couldn’t see you as you crossed over to Billy’s side of the sofa and sat on his lap, his erection prominent against the fabric of his pants. You slowly began to work yourself up and down, giving him his own personal lap dance to the thudding of the EDM coming from the speakers. It was softer in the sofa areas speakers, so you could clearly hear the pleasurable groans and encouragement Billy was whispering to you “Oh yeah Y/N, that’s right, show daddy what he’s working with.” After a slow but seductive performance, he gripped onto your ass cheeks and began to move you to the beat, a lot rougher than your initial pace “God this would feel incredible with your walls wrapped around me as I pump into your slutty ass, make you moan as I fuck you like the bitch you are, fuck!” He breathed the last part out in pleasure as he grabbed your right hand which you’d used to balance yourself on him and slid it in his pants, coming into contact with his dick, hard and pulsating in your grasp “That’s what your doing to me Y/N, you’ve made me so fucking hard, got me so close to coming in my pants.” You knew you had him in the palm of your hand now, there was no way you weren’t gonna get your back blown out tonight. “Take me out of here Billy, show me what a good time with you is really like.” He grinned at you “Now you’re really gonna get it you fucking slut, follow me.” He growled out, and gripping onto your hand, you both worked your way through the bar and made it outside, tension rising all the while. 

You walked a considerable distance across from the bar before Billy made a sharp abrupt turn into an empty alleyway, slamming you into the wall as he smashed his lips to yours. Whilst they were thin, he still made the kiss impactful, and it was easier for him to slip his tongue into your mouth, the two of you doing a mouthy tango with the other for a while until he wrenched you away “On your knees” he demanded, and adrenaline pumping through your system, you obeyed, sinking down, pulling his pants down as you went down, his thick cock dropping out, incredibly hard from both your dirty talk and the lap dance as well, precum slicked on it “While I love that your admiring my cock, it would be better if you were choking on it as I fucked your mouth.” The filth purring out of Billy was utter music to your ears, and without further ado, you sunk down onto his cock, pushing his length down as far as you could go “Yeah that’s right, get daddy all down your throat baby” Billy purred as you encased his length in your hot, wet mouth. With a good idea of how much you could handle, you began to suck, up and down you went, cries of lust coming from the bold man above you, shimmering in the dark light of the alley. “God damn, you’re fucking professional at this shit, you sure you’re not a whore?” You moved off his cock to respond “No I’m not” Billy’s hand suddenly surged down, grasping your hair and shoved you back onto his cock “I didn’t say you could stop, now you’re gonna take me right down to the base, till your lips are touching my balls” you now started to gag around him, spit flying from your throat onto his member “Fuck yeah, drool over this cock, get it wet for when I fuck you bareback, pump my load inside you!” 

As he continued to push you down on his cock, you began to get caught up in the moment, a light sensation ripping through you as you choked on his dick, whilst choking could be deadly and bad for your airways, for some reason, as you struggled to focus your breath in through your nose and not your mouth, it was as if you were floating on air, midway between the ground and the sky, you’d never experienced anything like it before but loved it immensly. Wanting Billy to experience the same high, you began to roll his balls, eliciting cries from the man above you “OH FUCK! Yeah that’s right, work those balls Y/N, Jesus Christ you’re gonna make me cum in your mouth!” You realised the sudden grip of your hair had gone, Billy’s hands now flat against the wall as he arched forwards, taking advantage, you pulled off his cock with a loud slurp, causing Billy to groan in confusion “Huh, what?” “I think you said something about wanting to fuck me, and if that’s the case, we should make the way back to your place so you can do that, I don’t want you coming until your balls deep.” Billy looked exasperated “My flat’s too fucking far, can’t I fuck you here up against the wall?” You shook your head, a better idea forming “You got a car?” Billy’s eyes began to glint as he saw where you were going “My my, aren’t you full of fuckin ideas. Alright, I’ll take you back, but” he pulled his pants back up “The spit on my cock will be your lube tonight, so you better hope it hasn’t dried by the time we get there.” 

As it turns out, it was an empty threat, as his car was parked down a couple more streets not too far from where you were. You let him walk up to the door and kept a distance as he opened the car, and pushed the front seat down. Getting in, he cocked his fingers at you, and obediently, you made your way into the car, shutting and locking the front door behind you. You straddled Billy as he rested back on his seat, whilst you pulled your shirt and pants off, giving him a show which he appreciated with a wolf whistle “Damn, you’re gonna look so pretty when you ride daddy’s dick like a dirty slut.” He growled out as you leaned down to his ear “Come on then daddy, show me what I’m working with” mimicking his flirty taunt in the bar earlier. He grinned up at you as he leaned up, pulling his best off, exposing his torso, also covered in tattoos, as you admired the art, you lifted yourself up so he could pull off his pants, leaving them in a bunch on the floor “You ready for this?” He said, grabbing onto his dick and slapping it against your ass, you nodded and he wasted no time thrusting into you, both of you crying out in pleasure, it was finally happening, you were getting fucked by a bar guy, and fuck did it feel good! You placed your hands onto his pecs, grabbing his nipples and tweaking them as you began to ride his cock, gazing down at Billy, seeing how into it he was, sweat forming on his forehead as he watched in lustful awe, mouth open and letting deep breaths out “Fuck yeah, ride that shit baby, take daddy’s cock into your ass, fuck it like it deserves to be fucked” He snaked his hands up and grabbed onto your ass, guiding you onto his cock, now setting control. You surged forwards, kissing him deeply, before moving down his neck, onto the tattoos on his torso, you began to trail your tongue around them, to the utter pleasure of the man now fucking you passionately hard “Oh fuck, damn you really like that shit?” You nodded your head up at Billy, who seemed too into it to tell you to be verbal, soon returning back to his tattoos. 

After a while, Billy’s hands left your side, making you resume the faster pace he had set, his hands trailed up to your neck, as he wrapped his big hands around your neck and pushed in harder, finding the sight of you being choked by him utterly arousing. Not that you were complaining, thanks to him, you were back on that high you had experienced in the alleyway when he pushed you onto his dick, you lost all focus of the situation, Billy’s pounding, his face, the car, everything, white spots were dancing in your vision as the lack of oxygen, sent you spiralling into a sense of a mixture of euphoria and nothingness. You had no idea how much time had passed, or even what was happening until Billy’s hand slapped you across the face, pulling you out of your revery. “I said do you like being Daddy’s fucksleeve? Answer me Y/N, or I fucking pull out and finish on your face like I should have done in the alley!” “No! No! I fucking love it!” You said in a panic, you’d come so far, that you couldn’t be left in the lurch now “Then. Why. Didn’t. You. Fucking. Answer?” Billy roughly said as he slapped his cock further into you, hitting your prostate on each stroke “I didn’t hear you, I was loving how you were choking me daddy!” It all came spilling out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, Billy suddenly halted, a mixture of shock and surprise on his face. You stayed like that for a moment before he caught his bearings and grinned at you “So you like being choked huh?” “Y-yes” you breathed out, not noticing you had been holding your breath “Oh this is gonna be so fucking nasty, but so fucking hot at the same time!” Billy cried out, like a man who’d struck gold in a mine, you had no idea what he was thinking until you heard the seatbelt being withdrawn forwards, wrapping part of it round your neck “You hit me on the chest if you need to stop, alright?” Billy told you and you nodded, showing you understood “That’s the spirit Y/N.” He said before pulling back. You began to choke again, yet under Billy’s control and full understanding of what made you tick, it didn’t hurt, once again it was like you were flying in midair, only this time it was as if you saw Billy flying across from you, at the same midrange position you were in “Fuck, you feel that Billy?” You gasped out “Fuck yeah I do! God your clenching around me so fucking tight, so fucking good for me Y/N.” He drawled out, deciding to tweak your nipples the same as you’d done to him, you drew a desperate grasp of air as you slammed your hand against the glass window which had begun to mist up. 

“Fuck Tiger, you look damn near ready to explode” Famous Last Words from Billy as high from the adrenaline, Billy’s cock, and the seatbelt contracting your neck, you came all over Billy, load after load splashing onto his tattooed torso “Fuck! Damn! You really needed that, didn’t you Y/N?” Billy loosened the seatbelt so you could respond to him, you coming slowly off of the high “Yeah, I guess I did” “Well your walls are clenching round me, so I’m ready to come as well, you gonna take all my load, take it all for me?” You nodded, though less throughly then before, a slight pain starting to form from your neck, Billy gripped onto your sides and moved you up and down as he ansi thrusted into you rougher than before, chasing his own orgasm “Fuck yes, so tight, bare down on me Y/N, fuck like that, oh fuck I’m gonna come!” Billy suddenly started groaning and growling in powerful domination as he shot load upon load, so much was filling you up, it was like a volcano had exploded in your ass. You didn’t think he would stop, but eventually the last of his load pumped into you, he let out a ragged breath, sucked one in, and let his hands give way, causing you to fall on top of him. He began to laugh “God damn Y/N, that was one of the fucking best orgasms I’ve fucking had, got to take you back to mine for Round #2.” You looked up at him “You sure you can go again? That seemed like a lot for you” He gripped your hair, albeit softer than the alleyway due to having climaxed “You don’t even know, you’ve never had a man as hot as me or can last as long as I can.” “Even if I sucked your balls instead of your dick for the second round?” You countered “Fuck now you’re asking for it, get into the seat and fasten up, I’m gonna give you a night you won’t fuckin forget!” As Billy started his car up and drove off to his apartment, you sucked in a deep breath, and looked across at him while he drove, both of you innerly counting the moments until both of you would ride the high together again. 

#Billy #Male Reader #Billy x Male Reader #Billy Smut #Rabid #Rabid 2019 #Rabid Smut #Rabid 2019 Smut

[ververa]

In Her Kiss

So, the anon said: billie dean x reader, reader is billie's assistant and they're flying to some haunted place but the reader is terrified of flying and billie offers to sit next to her to help calm her down, she's usually a strict boss but she has a soft spot for reader. when the flight takes of the usually calm and shy reader begins to have a panic attack, strongly gripping billie's hand and cry. billie is a bit surprised of how much pain this is causing the reader but tries to do everything in her power to make her feel better, like let her cry in her lap or kiss her to distract and ground her( bc she's lowkey into her and reader of course has a fat crush on billie). little angst with lots of fluff pls🥺

A/N: I absolutely loved this idea and I did my best to write is as good as possible. Also this song kinda made me think of Billie Dean and inspired me, and bc I was looking for something suitable for over 6 hours, I’ll just put it here as well.

Thank you so much for the request! Hope you’ll enjoy it <3 

Words: 2.087

Billie Dean Howard x reader

You had always known that living a normal life wasn't for you. You found everyday routine boring. You looked at other people and thought to yourself that it wasn't how you wanted to live. You wanted something spectacular. You wanted to do something important. Experience things that other people were afraid of. You wanted to explore and learn.

That's why you started studying paranormal activities. You didn't necessarily know what you'd do after graduating, but you didn't care. You enjoyed it and that's all that mattered. You were one of the best students in your group and they even offered you some help with getting PhD. The only thing you had to do was to spend some time being around something or someone that actually  had something to do with paranormal activity. Luckily for you your father knew the person, who helped you get to the one and only Billie Dean Howard. Getting to work with her was like a dream come true for someone like you. Of course at first it was mainly because of your PhD and your inner curiosity, but it changed when you met her.

Billie Dean was a very demanding and rather strict boss. It was hard to manage her chaotic, a bit hectic schedule and life or keep up with all the paranormal things and thereby satisfy her. The pressure was enormous at times. That's why most of her previous assistants lost the job after a month or two at best. But there you were - working for Billie for almost 6 months and doing just fine. Her film crew was even joking that you broke the record and set the bar high. 

But you just really liked Billie. She was not only incredibly charming, but also sensitive and empathetic. The first time you saw her you were immediately smitten. Though you knew very well that your relationship would remain strictly professional. But you were still happy that you had a chance to be around her at least.

 You absolutely loved your job. It gave you opportunities to develop different skills and get a lot of experience. It was tiring, of course, but you aspired to be the best assistant Billie Dean had ever had. And you were. Everything was perfect, until one day Billie told you to book plane tickets, because you were leaving for filming new episodes of her show. 

You really like traveling, especially with Billie. You just hated being on the plane. You were so terrified of flying that the thought of it itself was enough for you to get anxious. There was no way for you not to go since you were Billie’s right hand and the only person, who was able to organize everything the way she wanted. 

“Miss Howard, this one time I could work remotely” you said as you were on your way to some interview 

“Y/N, you know it’s impossible. I need you there with me” 

“I can manage everything being here” you kept trying to convince her

Billie stopped and looked at you.

“I don’t get it, why going there is such a problem?”

“I…” you hesitated, you weren’t really sure how to tell her that you weren’t afraid of ghost, but flying caused you panic attacks “I just don’t like flying” you confessed 

Billie frowned. For her going there wasn’t just about work. She hoped that spending some more time with you would help her understand her feelings or rather figure out your feelings. Billie couldn’t deny she had a soft spot for you. You were always there for her, often staying overtime just because she was exhausted after a long day at work. She found your shyness incredibly adorable and kind of admired how calm you were - even at haunted places where you had to go with her. Billie Dean had always been pretty talkative and most people found it annoying after some time, but not you. You were always intently listening to her, willingly giving her all your attention. And she just loved it. She liked how everything seemed to be so simple when you were there helping her. At first she tried to be professional. She tried to convince herself she didn’t like you that much. Though it changed completely after you visited the Cortez. You were the one who took care of her and helped her calm down after the incident at the hotel. And just then, as you held her in your arms, she realized she wanted more.

Ever since then she was attempting to flirt with you. She was doing her best to show you that she, in fact, was interested in being someone more than just your boss. Yet you seemed to be oblivious to all her efforts. It was quite frustrating, but she wasn’t the type who give up easily.

“It’s only about 4 hours on the plane… It’s not that much. I really need you there” she gave you her best smile, but you were too stressed to pay attention “Y/N, I believe in you. You’ll be fine. And if it makes you feel any better I can sit right next to you in case you need someone to help you calm down”

You looked at her biting your lip. You still weren’t really convinced, but as you looked into her brown eyes you couldn’t say no, so you nodded.

“Great!” she exclaimed “Don’t worry about anything. I’ll take care of you, just like you take care of me” she beamed 

You tried to smile, but you failed as the anxiety was slowly taking over your mind and body.

For the next few days Billie made sure to keep your mind occupied, so that you wouldn’t worry about the trip too much. She practically made you go with her everywhere. She took you to an expensive restaurant, where you had dinner and even convinced you to go shopping with her - hoping it would help you relax at least a little bit. It did work, as your mind began thinking about the way she acted around you instead of the flight. Yet as the day of your departure arrived you were a nervous wreck again.

You kept working of course - checking if everything and everyone were ready. You knew there was no turning back and you wanted to do it for Billie, but you still couldn’t help all those negative feelings.

As Billie saw you at the airport she began feeling guilty for making you go. You were so pale and seemed as you could faint at any time. How she wished she could save you from all that stress.

“It’s going to be okay” she whispered to you as you were looking at the plane “Don’t worry” Billie kept talking as you were getting on board�� “I’ll be right next to you all the time” she added as you took your seats 

You nodded inhaling sharply. You could already feel drops of sweat forming on your forehead, as you buckled up. You looked outside the window and stared at the wing for a few minutes. You paid no attention to anyone or anything. You tried to focus on one thing hoping it would help you stay calm.

Billie observed you carefully. All she wanted was to know if you felt something for her. Making you stressed out so much definitely wasn’t her intention. She frowned as she saw your hands clenching both armrests of your seat.

“Oh, honey, you can hold my hand” she said already taking your hand into hers 

You turned your head at the sudden touch of her soft hand. You faced her and as your eyes met Billie felt how her heart hurt at the sight of the tears in your eyes.

“Y/N, it’s okay. Everything is okay” she kept repeating 

You could feel how your chest was becoming heavier and heavier as the plan started taking off. You closed your eyes, squeezing Billie’s hand. Your heart was pounding and your breath became shallow. You tried to breathe deeply, but you felt like you couldn’t get enough air and so you started panicking. 

“I can’t. I can’t… Billie I can’t” you kept repeating shaking your head

“What? What you can’t? It’s okay, Y/N”

“It’s not… I can’t… I want out... ” your voice was cracking as the tears started flowing down your cheeks 

Billie looked at you concerned. She didn’t expect it to be that bad. Actually, at first she thought you were exaggerating and being dramatic, but after a few minutes she realized that it really was causing you a lot of pain. 

“Shhh” she pulled you closer “You’re okay, honey. We’re okay. It’s okay, I’m here” she embraced you in a tight hug “You’re doing great. You’ll be alright” she kissed your forehead 

“No. No. No. Please, please, please… I can’t be here. I want out… Billie, please” you cried 

“Is there any problem?” asked a flight attendant, who just approached you

“No. There’s no problem. She just doesn’t like airplanes” Billie explained 

“Oh Lord… I hate it. Why did I agree to go with you?” you kept talking “Ughhh. I fucking hate it. Why did you make me go?!”

“Y/N, you need to calm down, because they may basically kick you off the plane”

“Good! I want to leave” you said, still not looking at her “I’m so stupid…” 

“Y/N, for God’s sake! I need you to calm down”

“I-I can’t”

“Just breath, sweetheart. Come here” she pulled you even closer than before, so that your head was partially resting on her chest “Hear my heartbeat? Just focus on that”

You inhaled sharply and tried to do what she said. You kept your eyes closed and did your best to focus on her heartbeat.

“You’re okay, I’m okay, we’re okay” she said calmly, brushing your hair 

“I t-think it works…” you whispered 

“Thanks God” she breathed a sigh of relief “Will you open your eyes?” she asked after a while

You shook your head - no.

“Why?” she wiped the tears from your cheek with her palm

“I don’t know...  I don’t want to see…”

“You don’t want to see people, the plane or me?”

“All of these”

“Oh” Billie bit her lip looking at you 

You were sitting straight, you were a bit calmer, but still tensed.

“Can I do something to help you relax?”

“I don’t think so” you said clenching your hands in fists 

“Can I try at least?”

“I really appreciate the effort, but I doubt anythi-” you didn’t manage to finish, because her lips collided with yours 

The kiss was gentle and short, too short. You wanted more, but Billie pulled away. You opened your eyes only to see her smiling at the sight of the bliss on your face.

“I… umm... “

“What, does that feel good?” 

You nodded making her chuckle.

“And did it do the trick?” she smirked 

“Well, you could do it again just to make sure”

Billie laughed leaning in to capture your lips one more time. The second kiss was more passionate, though you still couldn’t get enough of her. You had dreamed of it for so long. You would most likely straddle her lap and keep making out if it hadn’t been for the other passenger.

“Geez, could you take it somewhere else?” he complained 

At these words, your usual shyness was back. You blushed profusely and sat straight not looking at Billie or anyone.

“You’re so cute when you get shy” she said putting a strand of your hair behind your ear

You looked at Billie and bit your lip. You weren’t sure what was going on between the two of you.

“I’m sorry I made you get on the plane. I didn’t realize it’s that bad” she said

“It’s fine” 

“It’s not. I just wanted to spend some more time with you and figure out if there’s any chance that you like me as much as I like you”

“Wait. You’re saying that you like me?”

“Yes” she admitted 

“You know you didn’t have to try this hard? You could just tell me… without making me get on this goddamn plane” 

“Well, this definitely isn’t anything like how I imagined it... ”

“So… what is it between us?” you asked hesitantly 

Billie Dean smiled caressing your cheek before kissing you once again. You smiled against her lips. All that you wanted to know was in her kiss. And that for sure was the best answer you had ever got. 

Tag list:

@midnight-lestrange​

@natasha-danvers​

#billie dean howard #billie dean howard x reader #sarah paulson imagine #AHS #ahs imagine #ahs murder house #ahs hotel #request

[hartigays]

ooh if you’re still doing the fluff/angst prompts could you do 14 + harringrove? I love your writing and you could do something amazing with this 🖤

14. “Get your hands off of me!”

“harrington, what the hell are you doing?”

steve doesn’t answer, not bothering to look up. he’s focused intently on the row of dominos that he’s carefully setting up, his tongue poking out and his brow furrowed in concentration.

“voilà!” steve shouts, finally getting the last domino in place. he claps his hands and rubs them together in anticipation.

billy arches a brow, giving steve a bored look. but steve doesn’t pay him any mind, just tiptoes carefully over the dominos weaving around the living room of their apartment, kneeling down and counting backwards from three before setting them in motion.

it takes all of thirty seconds for the carefully constructed line to fall, but steve still looks at billy with a goofy smile, his eyebrows raised in question. as if to silently ask pretty cool, huh?

“oh, come on,” steve huffs at the unimpressed look billy levels him with. “that was at least kind of cool, admit it.”

“you spent three hours setting that up,” billy points out. “instead of taking out the trash. like i asked you to do earlier. three hours earlier, to be exact.”

it’s steve’s turn to roll his eyes. he spins on his heel and flops backward onto the couch. “whatever. time is arbitrary in quarantine.”

“don’t whatever me,” billy says with a sniff, examining his cuticles. “just clean it up before bed. i don’t want to come out here for water in the middle of the night and break my ass slipping on a fuckin’ domino.”

“fine, mom.” steve tosses a tennis ball in the air as he speaks, making faces at the ceiling like a child. “whatever you say.”

billy moves to lean over steve on the couch, flicking him on the forehead while flashing a toothy grin. “damn right.”

it’s been three weeks since the governor issued an official stay-at-home order. three weeks of binging netflix, playing video games, and scrolling through the same few social media apps over and over.

steve had grown antsy and stir-crazy by the end of week one, needing to find some new activity or another to occupy his mind and body to keep from going nuts.

billy, on the other hand, has kept himself busy with a stack of books about a mile high, and his at-home workout routines. steve’s also been eating better, given the amount of cooking billy’s been doing now that he’s home full time.

while steve bounces from one activity to another, restless and understimulated, billy seems to be transitioning easily into their new way of life, as he tends to do with most things.

steve is only a little bitter.

“how are you not bored out of your mind?” steve gripes. he tosses the tennis ball onto the armchair adjacent to the couch, already tired of it.

billy had moved into the kitchen, and he looks up from the cookbook he’d been flipping through. “i dunno. ‘s not so bad. i can sleep in now, cook dinner more. i even learned how to make paella recently.”

“the fuck is paella?” steve snorts, sitting up on his elbows to stare at billy over the back of the couch.

“it’s going to be dinner tonight,” billy says easily, shrugging. “it’s good, trust me.”

steve just shrugs, flopping back down and closing his eyes. he doesn’t care what billy puts in front of him - the less he has to cook, the better. it’s just not in his wheelhouse.

besides, billy is a natural cook. there hasn’t been anything he’s made that steve’s been unimpressed with. so he leaves billy to do his thing, pulling out his phone and scrolling through twitter, half-listening to the familiar sound of billy puttering around the kitchen.

steve spends a few hours going between napping and mindlessly scrolling through his phone. by the time he pushes himself off the couch with a yawn and a stretch, it’s already getting dark outside. he shuffles into the kitchen, following the delicious smells coming from within.

billy’s still cooking away, his brow furrowed in concentration. he’s stirring something on the stove, poring over the recipe in the cookbook before him. he looks incredibly in his element, moving about with ease, seamlessly transitioning from one task to the next.

steve doesn’t think it’s weird that he could watch billy do this all day. it’s always nice to see someone doing something they’re passionate about with such dedication. and if there’s a secret part of him that has an innate appreciation for billy in an apron, well.

sue him.

it’s not like finding billy attractive is anything new to steve. it’s the 21st century, steve tends not to dwell on those kinds of things. he doesn’t, however, feel the need to clue billy in to those particularly appreciative thoughts about him in his cooking attire.

they’re stuck in isolation together for the foreseeable future. there’s no sense in stirring up trouble or discomfort - they’ve got enough going on already. steve’s not-so-G-rated thoughts about billy and his apron aren’t between anyone but him and god himself.

he just admires from afar, trying to not indulge too often in his racy thoughts about his roommate, who also happens to be his long-time best friend.

it’s no secret, however, that those thoughts had been easier to ignore before, when they spent a large part of their days apart. billy would be at work or in class and steve could always be found guiding himself through his own busy schedule.

as university students, they’d had pretty chaotic lives before the world came to a grinding halt. they were both generally busy with their own lives, and steve had enough going on that he didn’t often have time to dwell on how his thoughts were increasingly crossing the line between friendship and something more.

and just because they’re now together 24/7, with all the time in the world for steve to confront the reality of his little predicament, it doesn’t mean steve is worried. not at all. not even a little bit.

steve has this silly idea that maybe if he says it enough times, he’ll start to believe it.

“smells good in here,” steve comments. he leans up against the counter next to the stove, peering over billy to sneak a peek at what he’s working on.

billy pauses his stirring, scooping a small portion of what looks like rice onto his spoon and holding it up to steve’s lips. he lets billy pop the bite into his mouth, his eyes lighting up at the burst of flavor that spreads across his tongue. whatever it is, it’s delicious. steve licks his lips appreciatively.

“yum.”

billy just nods, looking pleased. “it’ll be ready in about ten minutes. hey, grab me a beer, will you?”

steve grabs two beers from the fridge, passing one off to billy and cracking the other one open for himself. he heads back into the living room, curling back up on the couch and scrolling through netflix.

by the time he manages to find a documentary that they haven’t seen before, billy’s walking into the living room, balancing two plates in his hands. his beer is stuffed in the crook of his elbow, and steve sits up to grab the plate from billy before he can spill beer all over the floor.

“what’d you pick out?” billy asks once they dig in, nodding at the television.

steve swallows a mouthful of food, giving a satisfied hum of approval. “some new nature documentary. i think it’s about whales or sharks or something like that.”

“sounds like a real fleshed-out choice,” billy snorts, but he doesn’t object to steve’s selection.

“hey, you’re the one who’s always complaining that we waste so much time scrolling through the same stuff every day,” steve points out. “i’m just saving us the trouble.”

billy just huffs out a laugh before taking a swig of his beer. “i never said not having to scroll for an hour was a bad thing.”

the lapse into silence as the show starts, watching with meager interest as the intro credits begin. it’s quiet until steve takes a particularly delicious bite of his food, practically moaning around his spoon.

“this is delicious, by the way,” steve says, glancing over at billy. “what’d you say this is called?”

billy’s giving him a strange look, one that has steve’s cheeks heating up and the tips of his ears turning pink.

“paella,” billy answers finally, clearing this throat and averting his eyes

steve stares at billy for a moment longer, opening his mouth to speak before realizing he doesn’t even know what he wants to say, letting it fall shut again.

there’s a weird tension hanging between them for the rest of the night. steve tries not to fixate on it, but it’s hard when he’d picked out the most boring documentary in the history of time itself.

billy doesn’t even meet his eyes when he says goodnight later, after they’ve watched a few episodes and cleaned up the kitchen. steve can’t help but wonder if maybe he said something wrong without realizing it, watching billy retreat to the safety of his bedroom.

steve tosses and turns for most of the night, plagued by incredibly weird and startlingly vivid dreams. dreams about monsters that lurk in the shadows and kids with superpowers and bad men in their secret labs. similar to the ones he had back in high school, back when his life was turned inside out and upside down. only these are brighter, more intense, somehow weirder than before.

there’s a gasp dying on steve’s lips when he bolts upright in bed, the image of a hyper-realistic demogorgon with a decaying human face that he’s uncomfortably sure was barb’s still burned into his mind. he’s covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his stomach churning. his mouth is unbelievably dry, his tongue sticking to the roof of it.

steve pushes his sweat-matted hair from his forehead, climbing out of bed and padding into the kitchen. he gulps down two glasses of water, trying to will away the trembling of his hands.

it’s when he’s walking back to his room that he slips on something, crashing backward and busting his ass hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs. steve’s tailbone collides with the ground first, followed by his elbows, and then his head.

steve groans, pushing himself up off the ground. he feels lightheaded and disoriented, the back of his head throbbing something awful. distantly, steve hears what sounds like a door opening, followed by footsteps.

the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up when someone crouches down beside him. steve can’t get his eyes to focus while he’s this dizzy and the room is this dark. he jumps nearly a foot in the air when a hand comes to rest on his shoulder.

“get your hands off of me!” steve yelps, smacking the mystery hands away from him and scooting across the floor to put distance between him and the body hovering next to him.

“hey, hey, steve, calm down, it’s just me. it’s just billy.”

steve squints through the darkness, his heart hammering in his chest. he can finally make out the defining features of the person that is most definitely billy, crouching in front of him and looking at him with a mixture of pure bewilderment and what he’s pretty sure is worry.

groaning, steve rubs the back of his head with a grimace. “ow...”

“told you to clean the damn dominos up,” billy mutters, sitting back on his heels as he tilts steve’s head down, examining the damage. “did you hit it hard?”

steve just nods, wincing as he does. “yeah. hit my ass and elbows harder, though.”

billy huffs out a soft laugh, taking steve’s bicep and lifting his arm to inspect his elbow.

“i think you’ll live,” billy says after a few moments, letting steve’s arm drop. “the hell were you doing wandering around the house in the dark at three in the morning, anyway?”

“i was getting some water,” steve tells him, rubbing his elbow with a frown. “i was having really weird dreams. i feel dizzy, are you sure i don’t have a concussion?”

billy shifts closer, trying to move steve’s mass of hair enough to look more closely at the lump on the back of his head.

“well, you’re not bleeding. if you have a concussion, it’s mild,” billy says with a shrug. “but i think you’re in the clear. what kind of dreams were they?”

steve doesn’t say anything for a moment before giving a halfhearted shrug. “same dreams i always have. they were just, like....super vivid this time, you know?”

“might’ve been the shellfish in the paella,” billy muses, humming thoughtfully. “certain foods can give you more vivid dreams, almost like fever dreams. shellfish are a pretty common culprit.”

billy takes one last look at the back of steve’s head before grabbing his hand, tugging him up off the ground. steve’s head swims once he’s upright, and he tips forward, crashing directly into billy. billy’s arms go around him immediately, holding him steady.

“you okay?” billy asks, his brows furrowed in concern.

steve blinks rapidly, his brain slowly catching up to the position he’s currently in. he feels the tips of his ears get hot, disentangling himself from billy and backing away, putting several feet of distance between them.

“yeah, i - um. sorry, that wasn’t intentional.”

steve averts his eyes, though billy’s stay trained on steve, that strange look from before back on his face. something shifts in his expression, billy giving him a thoughtful look.

“on second thought,” billy says finally, “you should crash in my room. so i can keep an eye on you. wouldn’t want you nursing a head injury alone, in case anything happens.”

“the hell do you mean, if anything happens?” steve questions, his hand flying up to the back of his head. he opens his mouth to ask another panicked question, but it closes quickly once he realizes what billy is offering. “wait, you mean you want me to stay with you? in your bed? like, together?”

“sure, if you want,” billy says, sounding casual while looking anything but. “you know, for safety.”

“for safety,” steve repeats slowly, swallowing thickly. “okay. okay, yeah. do you think i might need - um. mouth-to-mouth? for safety?”

steve’s heart is hammering in his chest before the question fully leaves his mouth. billy just stares at him for a long moment, before cracking a goofy grin, giving him a slightly disbelieving look. “steve, that is the corniest fucking thing you have ever said.”

“oh, shut up. i have a traumatic brain injury,” steve counters with an unimpressed sniff, trying to play it off like his heart doesn’t feel like it’s about to beat right out of his chest. “sue me.”

“right, your horrific bump on the head,” billy nods, fighting a smile. “guess you should come over here and let me take another look. for safety, of course.”

“safety’s very important,” steve acknowledges as he crosses the room, slowly putting one foot in front of the other.

steve stops short in front of billy, hesitating. billy closes the remaining distance, reaching up to gently feel the bump on the back of steve’s head, though his eyes never leave steve’s.

“that really is a nasty knot,” billy says offhandedly, a flicker of concern appearing in his eyes and disappearing just as quickly. “maybe some ice would help?”

“thought you were writing me a prescription for something else,” steve mumbles.

billy looks momentarily confused, before steve closes the distance and seals their lips together. billy yields almost instantaneously, his mouth opening to steve as if they’ve done this a million times before.

now that he’s face-to-face with it, steve isn’t sure how he was able to dance around it for so long. billy’s lips are soft and pliant beneath his, and he kisses steve languidly, like they have all the time in the world and he knows it. he has one hand curled into steve’s hair, the other splayed across his jaw. when billy nips at steve’s bottom lip, it sends sparks skittering down steve’s spine and goosebumps erupting across his skin.

all steve can see, smell, and taste is billy and he’s dizzy with it, unsteady on his feet. which could be attributed in part to steve’s little bump on the head, but he pushes that thought to the back of his mind to worry about later. he sways a little, causing their mouths to break apart. billy takes steve’s hand keeping him steady.

“c’mon, let’s get you to bed,” billy says, his breathing a little ragged. “you can get the full hargrove treatment in the morning, when you’re not borderline concussed.”

“you’re the one who’s getting a medical degree,” steve protests, even as billy pulls him to his bedroom. “i was just following the doctor’s orders.”

“right, well. this doctor is ordering you to lay down and get some sleep,” billy counters. he helps steve climb into bed, scooting in next to him once steve has slid over to give him some room.

billy lets steve wrap himself around him like a koala without protest, only humming softly in approval.

“maybe quarantine’s not so bad,” steve muses after a few beats of silence, yawning.

“you’re just saying that because you get to kiss me every day now.”

“that so?” steve asks, chuckling softly. “guess that means i should get some sleep so i can be well-rested for a big day of kisses tomorrow.”

“go to sleep, harrington,” billy snorts, burying his face into steve’s neck.

“‘night billy.”

“sweet dreams, princess.”

#pardon my lack of knowledge on how to cook things #idk how to cook paella i just made some shit up bc lazy #here u go bby enjoy 💓💓💓 #harringrove #stranger things #my fics #ask #anon

[bi-makes-pie]

"I'm her best enemy" Playlist [ PART ONE - Songs 1 to 30]

Click READ MORE to see the whole list

1. Nemeses (feat. John Roderick) – Jonathan Coulton I mostly see this as being in the Master’s POV.

“Could it be that you need me To keep you out, to run you faster Promise me you'll let me be The one, the worst of all your enemies”

2. Crazy – Burn the Ballroom 12 to Missy. This one is quite cute. He does calls her mad, but we all know the Doctor isn’t exactly the perfect picture of sanity either.

“She had problems with my love connections So she bought me bullets and she made corrections (…) I'd say crazy, doll, but you've got something different I'd say complicated but that's your kind of rhythm I'd say lost and you'd say love

But you're crazy not to see That you're crazy just like me...”

3. Silence – Citizen Shade This kinda makes me picture the Doctor trying to give in and settle down with the Master (any version) while dealing with the inner conflict that they’re far too cruel for their taste.

“I found peace in your violence Can't tell me there's no point in trying I'm at one, and I've been silent for too long”

4. Dangerous Man - Little Dume This alternates between the Doctor’s POV and the Master’s. But you can also interpret it as being 100% about any version of the Doctor, since they do have a dark side.

“Every bone in my body's bad Fire's burning, the skies are turning black They say I'm a dangerous man” “Can you hear the storm's a coming I'm a silver in the lining There's a spark in me They say I'm a dangerous man Better run fast as you can Don't you look back”

5. Under Covers – LeRiche A bittersweet song about two people who had this precious friendship and love for each other, and about how distance can keep it all bottled up but once they give it a chance, they immediately go right back to the start. Just fits them very well, if you picture a happy ending to their relationship.

“I don't know why you're looking for a friend I'm right by your side But out here from a distance You won't look me in the eyes Without your love, I think I could die Then you let me in, we go back to beginnings When we were just friends hanging out on the ceiling We'll laugh about love and how we felt for one another And I love the way we make up under covers”

6. The Scientist – Coldplay A song about longing to make things right again and with little analogies involving science? I mean…

“Nobody said it was easy It's such a shame for us to part Nobody said it was easy No one ever said it would be this hard Oh, take me back to the start”

7. Renegades – X Ambassadors The “They actually stole a TARDIS and ran away together from Gallirey” AU we need so much

“Run away with me Lost souls and reverie Running wild and running free Two kids, you and me And I say Hey, hey hey hey Living like we're renegades”

8. Love is War – American Young I like how cute this song is and yet there is a bit of a dark twist. Fits them.

“Sometimes love is all that can save us Sometimes love can kill a man Yeah sometimes love is a soft touch Or a pistol in your hand Sometimes love is a white flag (...) Sometimes a cannon ball But it's worth fighting for Baby, sometimes love is war”

9. Bury a friend – Billie Eilish (Cover by Pomplamoose) Master’s POV. Can apply to any of their regenerations but I think of Simm!Master the most, since Ten tends to run towards him rather than walk away from him.

“What do you want from me? Why don't you run from me? What are you wondering? What do you know? Why aren't you scared of me? Why do you care for me? When we all fall asleep, where do we go?”

10. Come as you are – Nirvana (Cover by Imaginary Future) Best Enemies, everyone. Master’s POV again.

“Come as you are, as you were As I want you to be As a friend, as a friend As an old enemy (…) And I swear that I don't have a gun No, I don't have a gun”

11. Turn – The Wombats Academy!Era, Doctor’s POV. Theta (Doctor) clearly has a crush on Koschei (Master) and they’re both love being chaotic together. 

“I like the way your brain works, I like the way you try To run with the wolf pack when your legs are tired I like the way you turn me inside and out I like the way you turn I like the way your brain works Baby, it's the crazy I like I think I saw the world turn in your eyes”

12. Run – Snow Patrol Master’s POV if he was ever able to be honest about his feelings. Some parts can easily be read as the Doctor’s POV too.

“You've been the only thing that's right In all I've done And I can barely look at you But every single time I do I know we'll make it anywhere Away from here”

13. Maps - The Front Bottoms The Doctor’s POV as their relationship deteriorates after the Academy and he plans to steal the TARDIS and leave Gallifrey and his friend behind. I had to help myself from quoting the whole song because IT REALLY FITS SO WELL.

“There is a map in my room, on the wall of my room And I've got big, big plans (…) You say 'I hate you', you mean it And 'I love you' sounds fake It's taken me so long to figure that out I used to love the taste, I would do anything for it Now I would do anything to get the taste out of my mouth (…) "And what about your friends, Don't you love them enough to stay?" And I say, "If I don't leave now, Then I will never get away." Let me be a blue raft on the blue sea, I'll blend right in”

14. Old College – The Mountain Goats This fits the tiresome, sad, manipulative and draining part of their relationship.

“The warning signs have all been bright and garish Far too great in number to ignore (…) Our love has never had a leg to stand on From the aspirins to the cross-tops to the Elavils 

But I will walk down to the end with you If you will come all the way down with me”

15. Like a Staring Contest – The Future Kings of Nowhere Covers the end of their friendship and start of the new enemies dynamic. 

“I'm so tired of open warfare When the point of this was to be best of friends (…) When you fall in love as hard And recklessly as you and I do It seems that the final act should have The same intensity as the first scene”

16. Poison and Wine – The Civil Wars Reminds me of 12 and Missy but before Series 10. 

“You only know what I want you to I know everything you don't want me to Oh your mouth is poison, your mouth is wine You think your dreams are the same as mine Oh I don't love you but I always will” 

17. Genesis 30:3 – The Mountain Goats The mentions of a past relationship and the following lines followed by drums really make me picture this as Simm!Master and Ten getting a happy but bittersweet ending.

“For several hours we lay there, last ones of our kind Harder days coming, maybe I don't mind Sounds kind of dumb when I say it, but it's true I would do anything for you”

 18. Blood Under The Bridge – Frightened Rabbit Could literally be any version, but I picture Dhawan!Master and 13 making amends here, mostly because he might be crazy and frenetic but behind that façade he’s clearly way more tired than she ever will be.

“And it's alright, it's alright It's just blood under the bridge And I'm too tired to fight And you're sick of feeling sick And so am I It's alright It's just blood under the bridge”

19. Even Though Our Love is Doomed – Garbage  Missy’s POV. You can interpret this like her train of thoughts and reflections starting from early Vault days to the last time we see her on-screen. Reluctance, guilt and then the resolution.

“Come a little bit closer I need to understand Why we kill the things we love the most (…) Can you love me for what I've become Love me for what I Said that I would not become 'Cause they don't burn like I do (…) And even though our love is doomed And even though we're all messed up You're the only thing worth fighting for” You're the only thing worth dying for” 

20. Starlight – Muse 12 and Missy during the episodes World Enough and Time and The Doctor Falls.

“Now I'll never let you go If you promised not to fade away Never fade away Our hopes and expectations Black holes and revelations” 

21. Control – Halsey This screams Missy to me, especially since she literally incorporates the character of the evil nanny in her book (The Missy Chronicles) and in Big Finish’s audio dramas.

“I'm bigger than my body I'm colder than this home I'm meaner than my demons I'm bigger than these bones

And all the kids cried out, "Please stop, you're scaring me" I can't help this awful energy God damn right, you should be scared of me Who is in control?”

 22. Enemy – Woodlock End of Academy!Era. Yet another song which reminds me about their early fighting days and the end of their friendship.

This is where it begins At the start of an end I could no longer pretend No more, you walked out the door You’re my enemy

23. Why Can't We Be Friends? – The Academic The title says it all. The lyrics also mention how the relationship is always turning into something new, so I had to associate with the longest friends to lovers to enemies we’ve ever seen on television.

“This world is pointless If you're not here This world is pointless If we're not self-destructing love And it falls and it breaks and it turns into something new And it falls and it breaks and it turns into something” 

24. Wish That You Were Here – Florence + The Machine Doctor’s POV, in the days when he regrets leaving Gallifrey for a couple of seconds before turning to occupy his with something else. Because he knows that even if he went back, things aren’t the same and everyone has changed – including him.

“And I never minded being on my own Then something broke in me and I wanted to go home To be where you are But even closer to you, you seem so very far

And it's beautiful but there's that tug in the sight I must stop time traveling, you're always on my mind”

 25. No Light, No Light – Florence + The Machine This one makes me picture the first moment the Doctor realized his friend had changed too much and had to choose between his own feelings and standing for what’s right. This happens A LOT in the show, but I imagine realizing that for the first time was the hardest.

“But would you leave me If I told you what I've done And would you leave me If I told you what I've become No light, no light in your bright blue eyes I never knew daylight could be so violent A revelation in the light of day”

26. Dancing with the Devil – Wolf Gang This alternates between the Master’s POV and the Doctor’s POV. 

“If you're the chosen one How does it feel to be loved by no one? If you're the number one Where do you run to? Can you hide behind the sun? You say that there's no oxygen again You're forcing down the lies but you always get your way Something tells me that this was all arranged You tricked me once again” 

27. Skeleton Park – Kasador Master’s POV. “You know, back in the day, I'd burn an entire city to the ground just to see the pretty shapes the smoke made” (Missy, in The Lie of the Land, Series 10, Episode 8)

“When the house is on fire Air fills my lungs I satisfy desire From watching all you run Yeah the house is on fire Hear the sirens scream My hands hold the lighter It fits so naturally”

28. Elastic Heart – Longfellow What I love the most about the Doctor (all versions) is how they keep fighting for what is right despite their own feelings being hurt or despite how much it may cause them pain. I love what this character represents, and those lyrics reminds me so much of them. 

“Oh why can I not conquer love? And I might have thought that we were one Wanted to fight this war without weapons And I wanted it, I wanted it bad But there were so many red flags (…) Yeah, let's be clear, I'll trust no one You did not break in here I'm still fighting for peace”

 29. Bite Back – The All-American Rejects “You think you've broken me? You'll have to try harder than that” (The Doctor, in The Timeless Children Series 12, Episode 10). Same unbreakable side of the Doctor, but this time she definitively resents it a little more than usual. 

“You couldn't break me in the end And such a freedom I enjoy When you're deaf to the sounds you trust If that was all you've got, my friend Then set yourself to disappoint” 

30. No Children – The Mountain Goats Listen to me here: this covers the whole “They were married way before they started to hate each other back on Gallifrey” fan theory.

“I am drowning There is no sign of land You are coming down with me Hand in unlovable hand”

[ PART TWO TO BE ADDED SOON ]

#doctor who #thoschei #doctormaster #best enemies #my playlists #playlist

[siren-queen-imagines]

Rebound

To a lovely anon: I have your Billy Russo request for you! I hope you enjoy!!

Prompts Used: 1.“You said that I’d get to have you all weekend. Why can’t you just tell them you can’t go?” - “Because it’s my job, and it’s important.” - “And I’m not?”  6.“Losing you was the most unbearable pain I’ve ever felt.”

Masterlist

(gif by me)

The smile you gave the group of girls didn’t exactly reach your eyes like it normally does...but they didn’t even really seem to notice. You were out with the girls, after refusing the last 2 months.

“You need to get over him properly.” One of them told you.

“Yeah. You need to meet a new guy.” Another said.

“At least rebound sex someone. It’s been 2 months but better late than never.”

And then they laughed. Honestly you got where they were coming from but you just weren’t in the mood to be genuine about any of this. 

2 months ago, your 3 year relationship with Billy Russo came to an end. You had just finished moving out and are still looking for a place to live...but for now you were living with Jessica, your sister. And that’s how you were dragged out tonight.

You really preferred to stay in and just gorge on food and watch something on Netflix but Jessica thought a night out with the girls to celebrate the end of your moving out from Billy’s place was in order. Plus, she always said you needed to celebrate your newly single life.

To be honest, you still weren’t feeling it. 3 years of being with someone wasn’t gonna be gotten over in 2 months...well, for you at least. It honestly didn’t help that it seemed all Jessica did while you were going through your mourning period was try to get you to go out or invite the girls over where all they do is want to talk about Billy. Granted it was because of how much of an asshole he was but just even hearing his name never helped.

You know what else never helped? Them talking about how hot he was while they were at it and then wanting to know about your sex life with him. You definitely needed new friends. Hell, these girls were more your sister’s. They didn’t exactly get along with your actual friends.

So yeah, being out with them was the last thing you wanted.

“I’m out.” You announced to the table after you drained the last of you drink. “I’m gonna go get another one.”

“Oh my god.” Nadine, another one of the girls awed, not hearing you. “Look who decided to show his pretty face.”

“You’re kidding.” Layla chuckled, following Nadine’s eye line.

You did the same and there Billy was, sitting at the bar with Curtis. God, you still missed him. 

“Eh, he’s still looking fine as hell though.”

“Definitely. Looks like the break up didn’t affect him. You sure you’re the one that ended it, Y/N?”

“Doesn’t matter.” You replied with a scoff. Rude. “It’s been fun but I’m out.” 

You got up from the table, grabbed your stuff and headed to the bar. You sat down and ordered your drink when the bartender came around. 

“I thought you didn’t like your sister’s friends.” A voice said from behind you.

You turned to see Billy standing behind you with a soft smile on his face. You looked over to where he was before and saw Curtis looking over. A girl took up the chair Billy previously occupied, offering you a small smile. He held up his beer and winked at you before talking to the girl next to him.

“Curtis got a new girlfriend, huh?” You asked Billy, offering him a spot next to you.

“Yeah. She’s great. She’s perfect for him.” Billy replied, making himself comfortable next to you. “Don’t change the subject. Why you out with your sister and her minions?”

You laughed and shook your head.

“She dragged me out. They’re trying to get me to ‘move on’.”

“How’s that working out?”

“They’re all the worst at it. All they’ve been doing is mooning over you.”

Billy raised an eyebrow at you before turning back to the table of girls. Their glares turned to smiles as Nadine and Layla waved at him.

“Surprised your sister isn’t. She’s been glaring daggers at me since she saw me.”

Of course he would notice you were there before you even noticed him. You chalked it up to the Marine in him. 

“I think she’s been angry at you since you came over here. She was fine while I was at the table.”

The two of you shared a chuckle and you both took a sip of your drinks.

“How’ve you been?” Billy asked you.

“Getting by.” You admitted with a sigh. “Still living with Jess so it’s had its ups and downs.”

“Y/N, I told you that I could stay elsewhere until you found a place you wanted.”

“The lease on the apartment is in your name. Besides, I was the one that moved in with you. It didn’t feel right to have you leave.”

The two of you sat in silence again, the only sound being the noises in the bar.

“How have you been, Billy?” You decided to ask.

“Honestly?” Billy offered. “Not too good. I never thought I’d say that. Ever.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because, Y/N. I’ve told you this before. Before you, I never really felt the way I feel about you when it came to other women. I didn’t really care much when they wanted to end things or when I ended things.”

“Feel? You still feel that way about me?” 

You wanted to slap yourself because of the hope that filled your voice. You knew Billy could hear it.

“Of course I do. We’ve only been apart for 2 months. If I’m still being honest, losing you was the most unbearable pain I’ve ever felt. Still is.”

You looked over to Billy in shock. He never tore his gaze from you and you could see nothing but the truth in them. Wow. You thought you knew but maybe you didn’t. 

“If you could do things different, would you?” You asked after taking a moment.

“In a heartbeat.”

The two of you held an intense gaze...yeah, you still definitely felt it.

“Y/N.” Jessica called you, causing you to break eye contact with Billy. 

You turned to look at her, where she stood a few feet away, her arms crossed. 

“We’re leaving. Come on.” She continued.

“I’m not ready to leave.” You told her.

“Well we are.” She motioned to herself and the table. “Anyway, aren’t you supposed to hang out with us?”

“No. I already told you I was out but you weren’t listening. You all were too busy fawning over Billy.”

Jessica’s glare found Billy before landing you once more.

“We’re leaving. Maybe you can find somewhere else to stay tonight like your ex’s place since I’m clearly wasting my time trying to help you.”

“Okay.”

You decided to leave it as that. You heard Jessica scoff and storm off, her heels clicking and clacking against the wooden floor. You knew she hated it when you ‘okay’ed her. Looks like you would stay at a hotel. Maybe you’d stop by tomorrow and grab your stuff and stay in said hotel until you found your own place. It was better and easier than living with her.

“Where are you gonna stay?” Billy asked casually.

“Hotel. It’s been a while since I’ve treated myself.” You shrugged. 

Billy was about to offer to pay for it but he decided not to. He knew you’d turn it down and make a comment about you being able to take care of yourself. While he knew that to be true, he still didn’t mind. It wasn’t out of obligation or guilt or anything. He just wanted to take care of you. He liked taking care of you.

“You want a ride?” He offered instead.

“Sure. That would be great, actually.”

Billy paid for your drinks, despite you insisting on paying for yours. Again, it wasn’t a big deal to him. Before you left, he checked in with Curtis to let him know you guys were leaving. After bidding him goodbye, the two of you got to Billy’s car and he drove towards the hotel you wanted to go to.

Even something as simple as this, a car ride, was missed. It felt normal despite no longer being a couple. You couldn’t help but think about what Billy said at the bar about changing things. It made you think about why you chose to end things with him.

=================================

You were putting the finishing touches on the table you had set up. You decided to cook Billy a special dinner before you were set to spend the weekend away at the Poconos. You lit the candles and checked the time. Billy should be home any minute now.

“Y/N?” Billy called out as he walked through the front door.

Billy looked around the dim room, slightly smiling to himself when he saw the candles on the table and the set up.

“Hey babe.” You smiled, walking over to him with two plates of food in your hand, kissing him.

“What’s all this?” 

“Just wanted to do something nice.” You walked to the table, placing the plates down. “I figured it would be a nice start to our weekend.”

Billy sighed, no longer smiling.

“About that.” He started. “I won’t be able to go away with you.”

“What? Why?” Your good mood was slowly beginning to deflate.

“Work. We got a last minute security job for the senator. I have to stay here.”

“Billy.” You forced a smile for a brief moment before it faded. “I’m sure the boss won’t mind considering you are the boss.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. But the company needs this. Do you know how big this could be for business? I need you to support me on this.”

You shook your head and ran a hand through your hair. It felt like every time you guys had plans, he was cancelling for Anvil. You understood, you really did as he was the owner and CEO but every job was a big deal. When would he stop cancelling on you and put you first for once? You felt like you’ve been taking a backseat to his job too much lately. It hurt.

“You said that I’d get to have you all weekend. Why can’t you just tell them you can’t go?” 

“Because it’s my job, and it’s important.” 

“And I’m not?”

“That’s--that’s not what I’m saying.” Billy was trying to keep from getting mad. 

“You might as well have.” You argued. “You’ve been doing this so much lately that I’m beginning to wonder if you even want me.”

“Are you kidding, of course I want you.”

“Are you sure? Because you’ve been putting your work over me. I’m tired of being second best.”

Billy paused, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t like how this was sounding.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Does it matter? Because you’re gonna do what you want anyway.” 

Billy didn’t like how defeated you sounded. 

“I’m tired of this, Billy. Maybe it’s time we call it on this relationship.” You continued.

“Hold on, wait a minute--” Billy started.

“I think it’s best for both of us if we break up. We’re both going in two different directions.”

“Y/N, please, hold on.”

You walked away from him, heading to the door and grabbing your purse and jacket.

“I’ll be back soon to get my things.”

“Y/N, I--”

He paused when he saw that you started crying. He knew there was nothing he could say to fix this. It seemed like you had thought about this for a while. He watched as you walked out of the door. Fuck. What did he do?

=================================

“You mind if I walk you to your room?” Billy asked after you checked in, room key in hand. “Make sure you get there safe?”

“I don’t remember hiring you to protect me.” You lightly teased.

“It’s part of the ‘free ride’ package where everything is free.” He smiled at you brightly.

You laughed and shook your head. Oh, that smile of his would be the death of you. He could almost always get you to say ‘yes’ to anything with that smile. 

“Lead the way then.”

The two of you walked to your room, talking about what's new in your lives. You haven’t felt at rest like this since before you and Billy split. You missed this.

And dammit, you still missed him.

“This is you.” Billy said as you both came to a stop to your room. “May I?” He held his hand out for the room key.

You gave it to him and he unlocked it for you. You found yourself confused when he walked in, looking around the room, some of his actions over exaggerated.

“What are you doing?” You laughed.

“Making sure you get full use of your ‘free ride’ package. Room’s secure.”

You couldn’t help but smile at him. It felt like one of the most genuine in a while. You knew Billy took his job seriously but that didn’t mean he didn’t have fun with it when it came to you. Plus, you remember telling him once that he’s too serious when it came to work that sometimes it came home with him. You liked his playful side...and it caused him to embrace a different, silly side to himself that he was most comfortable with showing you. 

“Well, thank you, Lieutenant.” You saluted him.

Billy smiled at you. God, he wanted to badly to kiss you right now. He had to stop himself...you weren’t together anymore.

“I better get going.” 

“Okay.”

“It was good to see you. We should get coffee tomorrow or something.”

“Yeah, that’d be great.”

You walked Billy to the door, the two of you pausing at the threshold. You gave him a hug, one that lasted longer than it should.

“Don’t forget to lock the door behind me.” Billy reminded you, something he always did when you were together. You never know in New York, even with a protected home like theirs.

“I know, I know.”

Billy walked out the door and waited to hear the door lock behind him. With a sigh, he headed back to his car.

You on the other hand, waited by the door for a moment before you went to sit on the bed.

It was very clear to you that there was still something between the two of you. You knew he meant it earlier when he said he would change how things went before the break up. You could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice. Maybe things could work out between the two of you. Maybe you could get back together.

You began to take off your shoes and get settled in when there was a knock on your door. You went over and looked through the peephole, unlocking it immediately.

“Billy, wh--” You started.

You were cut off when Billy’s lips met yours. You kissed him back, your arms wrapping around his neck as he pulled you closer to him. Holy shit, you missed this; you missed the feeling of his lips on yours; you missed the feeling of his body against yours.

“I couldn’t leave without doing that.” Billy told you, his forehead resting against yours as you pulled back from the kiss.

“I’m glad you came back.” 

“I screwed up before. I was stupid because you were right. But know that I always wanted you. I still do. If you’ll let me, I promise to do better; to be better.”

“I’ll let you. I promise to do better too. I should be more supportive--”

“No, no, no. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’ve been nothing but supportive and I took advantage of that.” Billy cupped the side of your face, his thumb tracing your lower lip. “Things will be different. I promise. I meant it when I said I would change things in a heartbeat.”

“I know you did.”

Billy offered you a soft smile before he kissed you deeply. He kicked the door closed behind him before he picked you up and carried you over to the bed, laying you down gently. He’d make sure you knew exactly how much you were wanted.

#the punisher imagine #billy russo x reader #billy russo imagine #billy russo

[where-is-francis]

Boys Don’t Cry

Steve Harrington x Male Reader

Request:

Prompt: “I came by your house late at night for advice and you’re dancing in your bedroom to The Cure and, not gonna lie, it’s pretty amusing.”

A/N: And the slowest writer ever award goes to: me. But ok Boys Don’t Cry is one of my favorite songs to dance to in an over-dramatic fashion while I’m alone in my bedroom. And I figured like. Why not.

TW: underage drinking, Guys Bein’ Dudes™️, slight language, you dated Nancy but the sexuality is never specified.

Cliques were always dangerous. You never really fit in with any specific group. Fellow peers at Hawkins had just kind of dubbed you a wanderer. And for as much as the teachers liked you, you found yourself in detention quite a bit. Not because you actually started fights, but pissing off Steve Harrington was one of your favorite hobbies. And when Billy Hargrove moved to town, your focus simply shifted to tormenting him instead.

Steve would be lying if he said he didn’t miss the attention. For whatever reason, aggravating each other was the main basis of your friendship.

It was about third period and you’d come in to school late. The secretary noticed you weren’t at roll call for algebra or science, so she called your house. And before you could get to the phone your mother picked up and began screaming at you, whom she just assumed had already left, prompting you to get ready and leave.

The hallways were empty and it was fairly quiet, save for the noises of one of the gym classes going on. Your locker, unfortunately, was in the hall right beside the gym. Squeaks from sneakers and thuds from a dribbling basketball came from behind closed doors. Every time that damned ball hit your head throbbed more, still recovering from the party last night.

Tossing your Walkman inside, you began to grab out one of the books you’d need. English had been boring, but not as laggy as math and science. For a kid who was good with numbers you were surprisingly bad at the two subjects.

A sudden break in your thoughts came when a familiar face spotted yours and began to walk over. You could sense the uneasiness in the way he walked, normally he’d be trying to scare you. With everything in your hands, you nudged the door to your locker closed and waited for him to say something snarky as a greeting.

But he never did.

(E/c) orbs met dark brown ones. The light behind them was gone, now replaced with a sorrowful expression.

“You good?”

“Not really,” he sighed defensively.

“What’s got you—?”

Memories of the party from the night before came back in a blurred montage. Drinking, dancing, smoking, laughing, making out, repeat. You didn’t remember much, but at one point Nancy spilled her drink and went to the bathroom. What seemed like five hours later, Steve was pissed and ended up leaving.

“Oh, shit.” You visibly cringed.

“Look, I’m going to go talk to her.”

“It’s a wasted effort, man.” You reasoned. “Coming from somebody who’s been with her, just trust me.”

He always went to you for advice when it came to her. Nancy Wheeler was a very complex person, but you two dated for a while, and you kind of knew everything. A breakup came after about ten short months when you grew apart, but after a bit of a chat you two decided to stay friends.

The brunette shook his head slightly and glared. Reaching a hand up to pinch at the bridge of his nose, he muttered something about just getting it over with. You opened your mouth to speak just when the secretary stepped out, a less than pleased look on her face.

“(L/n), you better get to class before you end up with another detention. You too, Harrington.”

A small smirk crossed your features. “Aww, that’d be such a shame, huh?”

Steve quickly sauntered off, presumably to talk to Nancy, and you were left with the secretary. The look in her tired eyes that reached your own pleaded for you to just shut up and go to class.

“They aren’t paying me enough for this,” she groaned.

The smirk on your face morphed into a full shit-eating grin, then prompting you to make your way down the hall and into your English class. Just another average day would follow, nothing out of the ordinary.

Later that evening as you got home, you decided it would be best to unwind and listen to music. Nobody else was home, your parents both at work, so that meant you could do pretty much whatever you wanted. Reaching your beat up door, you began to tug your denim jacket off and toss it onto the chair in the corner.

Everything about the room was overdone; posters adorned the off-white walls, the pictures overlapping at times, and stickers thrown onto the closet door. Two large bookshelves were filled to the brim with your music collection, some sketchbooks, and whatever other junk you had that couldn’t be left on the floor.

Nancy always hated your room but that was to be expected. It didn’t bother you much, you’d rather be at her house anyways.

You shut the door and began to change into something a bit more comfortable, wondering what you’d do with yourself for the remainder of the night. Ordering a pizza sounded pretty good, considering nobody was home and you didn’t want to cook. Most nights alone you’d end up watching TV, playing video games, and then crash at about 2 AM. A vicious cycle, one you never grew tired of.

Without thinking, you reached over and grabbed your phone from the receiver and dialed Steve’s number. It seemed like a good idea at the time, the two of you could hang out for a bit without getting yelled at.

Last time he was over, your parents came home earlier than anticipated and found the two of you sat on the couch, drunk, reading through the phone book (for whatever reason), only to just lose your shit whenever you saw a name that sounded even mildly amusing.

The phone rang a few times before eventually being picked up.

A sigh could be heard. “What?”

“Hey, loverboy. I’m ordering pizza tonight. You wanna come over and hang out?”

“Are we going to get our asses ripped this time?” The brunette retorted.

A fake laugh came from you. “That was one time, so are you coming or not?”

There was a minute long pause between you two. No matter how much you annoyed each other, you were one of his weaknesses. And pizza was something that he couldn’t say no to.

“Fine, but—”

“Great! See you in a few.” You chirped and practically smashed your phone back onto the base.

Steve lived only a couple streets down from you. You met back at the beginning of elementary school, both of you riding the same bus. Neither you, nor him, could really remember when you started to consider the other a ‘friend’. But it mainly had something to do with him and Nancy being a couple.

Since she and you dated before and were still close friends, somehow you ended up becoming the marriage counselor along the way.

But hey, the more the merrier, right?

Your mind couldn’t help but drift sometimes. Steve was pretty cute in your eyes, even with his weird hair. Generally the same taste in music, shows, movies, and obviously the same taste in girls. And although he was stupid (sometimes), he was a good dude.

It wouldn’t take long for him to reach the house. In the meantime you decided it would be best to put in the order for the pizzas. A quick call to the nearest shop, and they’d deliver it as soon as it was done.

After scanning through some music, you finally settled on one: a mixtape of your favorite songs from The Cure. You popped it in with no hesitation and set your player to max volume. The intro to Siamese Twins rang out in your bedroom, the beat eventually making all of the furniture thud in perfect time. Glass window panes shook as well, you’d probably have the neighbors complaining in the morning.

Your feet guided you around the house aimlessly as you searched for something to drink, the sound of music becoming more muffled as you entered the kitchen. It reminded you of the party a few nights ago, but far less stuffy. And with better music.

“I chose an eternity of this; like fallen angels, the world disappeared,” you sang slightly to yourself as you rummaged through the cabinets.

Nothing.

Onto the fridge, stocked full of Coke and other stuff you didn’t much care for. Nobody

Meanwhile, down the street, Steve could hear loud music coming from your street. Which was odd, if there was a party he would’ve known about it. Upon further inspection he realized it was coming from your house. The sun was already starting to set behind said abode, nestling itself deeper and deeper into the rows of houses that occupied the area.

The Harrington boy stepped a bit closer and took in the view; your house covered in orange and red tinted leaves, the living room and kitchen lights shining through their respective windows. Your silhouette moved about inside, gracefully, to the beat. Almost like a shadow with perfectly fluid movements.

His focus shifted to the porch lights, then the door, the doorbell, and back again. He only assumed your parents weren’t home but he wasn’t sure, although with as loud as the music was, ringing the doorbell or knocking wouldn’t have done any good anyways. It took him a bit to move, then walking around to the darkened backyard where he counted the windows.

The first one was your parents’ room (he learned the hard way), the second belonged to the bathroom, and finally, the third was the entrance to your bedroom. He glanced down, careful not to step on the flowers, then maneuvered his way around to find a spot where he could see through the gap blinds. What he got was something out of a renaissance painting.

You with your mom’s pearl necklace and matching earrings draped carelessly, your shirt all the way unbuttoned, and a wine glass in your hand. To top it all off, your hair was a mess, but complemented the askew lipstick that painted your lips. Your hips swayed back and forth in a graceful yet drunken manner. Inside, Boys Don’t Cry came on the stereo.

Each step you took was calculated to sync with the beat, the only thing that could’ve made it more amusing was if you would’ve been wearing heels.

“What is that moron doing?”

“I would say I’m sorry

If I thought that it would change your mind

But I know that this time I have said too much,

Been too unkind,”

You sang along, a slurred version not being heard by the other male as he watched from the window. Brown eyes were fixated on your form as you leapt up onto the bed, forcing a bit of a stumble from yourself. After almost toppling over, you continued on.

“I tried to laugh about it, cover it all up with lies

I tried to laugh about it, hiding the tears in my eyes cause—”

“Boys… don’t cry.” Steve finished.

In the midst of the dancing spree you turned and locked eyes with said boy. The room was swaying about and took a minute to stop, your vision focusing on him. Each step you took closer to the window made your knees feel weaker, but somehow you managed to pull the screen up to let the other boy in.

The room was almost like a time capsule; nothing really moved or touched since the last time he’d been there, the only difference being the clothes that had been strewn across the floor. Sudden weight on the bed caused it to dip behind him. When he turned, your body was draped gracefully across the dark (color) sheets. Almost something out of an erotic painting, the clash of textures and colors alike.

Originally, the plan had been to come to wallow in self pity and ask for advice about Nancy. Now all he could think about was you, tipsy, singing along to music so loud it would rival an actual concert.

“You—you want a sip?” You shouted over the lyrics, somewhat slurred.

Steve thought about it for a minute, taking glances at your extended hand every so often. A slight sigh escaped him, then taking the glass and downing whatever was left. He started coughing and gagging as a result of the cheap liquor hitting, but didn’t care too much to do anything besides wipe his mouth off.

Everything in that moment was fuzzy, and loud, and warm. Time was stopped for you two. Nothing really mattered except the exact moment you were living in. Not some dumb party, not some spoiled suburban girl, and most certainly not being sober.

Steve’s hands fell to his hips. The newfound anxiety on his face made you wonder, but still too afraid to ask.

“Is there more to drink?”

“Yeah, in the kitchen… come on.”

Everything that happened afterwards became a blur of colors and muffled noises. Almost like going under anesthesia in the hospital, you couldn’t really remember what went on until something triggered it. And from then on you’d spend your time wondering if it was real or not, trying so hard to distinguish a vivid dream from a drugged reality.

One thing happened to stand out. The single thing you could remember.

Not so many hours later, bottles of liquor had been spread across the floor and the lights turned off. The music that once blared and annoyed the neighbors was turned down now, a much softer volume. Melodic hums came from your lips as Steve ranted about Nancy. The party, it was all because of the stupid party.

“— and, I mean, I apologized. Me. Steve fucking Harrington.”

After what seemed like four rounds too many, his speech was slurred.

Steve buried his face in his hands.“I don’t know what I did wrong…”

“You didn’t do any-anything wrong, man. Nancy just... has a stick up her ass, nothing new.” You assured him with a soft shove to the shoulder.

Your eyes met for a brief moment, his hands sliding down the sides of his face. A pitiful laugh found its way from his throat, soon after turning into something far more maniacal. Something about the situation was funny to you as well.

But not what you had said about Nancy, no. What made you laugh was the look on this idiot’s face, perfectly illuminated by the neighbor’s porch lights. How he slid down deeper onto your floor, ribs aching from giggling too hard. Though he was drunk, the smile plastered on his face was genuine.

Two separate roars were only extinguished after a few minutes, but at the time it felt like hours. You attempted to regain your composure but it was hard when his face was right next to yours. Once perfect brown hair was now askew, the result of the perfect night in. Eyes in the color to match brimmed with tears from laughing, something he felt like he hadn’t done in a while. Nearly perfect skin and perfect lips almost begging for some action; it was too amazing.

“If I didn’t know better I’d say you wanted to make out with me…”

It took a minute for his words to sink in. Even in the dark he could see the red flush rise to your cheeks. You swallowed a bit, hand rising to comb through (h/c) locks anxiously. Harsh shadows covered your (s/c) face but even then Steve could still tell you were biting your lip.

It seemed he had his answer.

“Oh,”

“Yeah, oh,” you mirrored.

Everything happened what felt like hours later, but at the same time, all at once. Your bodies had been forced together, the taste of long forgotten cheap wine playing on your tongues. His hands reached up to tangle gently in your hair, all while yours gripped desperately at the lapels of his denim jacket.

The kiss was soft and messy, but whether it was the alcohol’s fault or the fact he was nervous was anybody’s guess. For whatever reason, Steve expected it to feel different but it didn’t. The kiss was just that; a kiss. Not a kiss with a boy, just a kiss.

Clumsily, he straddled your lap to get a better angle. It still felt the same. The time had come to an end, your lungs begging for air, forcing the two of you to pull back. His shoulders heaved, the room only being filled now with the slight sound of you both panting.

(E/c) hues opened to take in the view. Steve Harrington straddling your lap, breathless, disheveled, only being lit by the light that came through the window. The grip you had on his jacket slowly loosened, only to be stopped by his hand on yours. Red lipstick that once adorned your lips was now shared. The Cure that played in the background had finally come to a complete stop. But the gaze Steve had on your lips didn’t, especially when he began to lean in again.

“Don’t tell Nancy,”

#stranger things #steve harrington #x male reader #steve harrington x male reader #stranger things x male reader #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #jaws writes

[lightsupinthenorth]

Read me like an open book part 1/2

Hey! :) Here is the first part of a two-part (at least I think ah ah) Harringrove fanfiction. It’s set a few years after the events of the third season (which Billy survived, obviously ^^). It starts on Steve’s birthday just because it’s my birthday today :p 

I hope you’ll enjoy ;) 

*

Read on AO3 

“It’s presents time, bitches!” Robin said, getting up from the floor, where Steve was still sprawled with Billy half-laying on top of him. 

They might have overdone it a little on the weed. Steve didn’t really care, though. He was relaxed and happy. So far, his twenty-first birthday had been the best birthday ever. Robin and Billy had organized a surprise gathering in their shared flat, inviting the kids, Nancy and Jonathan, as well as Joyce and Hopper. After everyone had left earlier in the evening, Robin had gone to her room and had come back with a bag of weed bought by Billy and her for the occasion, and they had gotten positively baked. 

Billy and Robin had insisted to give him his present when it was just the three of them instead of doing it at the same time as the others. When Steve had seen the weed, he had understood why. So, he was confused when Robin mentioned presents. 

“What presents?” 

“Your birthday presents, dingus. I know you’re high right now, but I didn’t think you were high enough to forget your own birthday.” Robin cackled. 

“Hey, I haven’t forgotten. I just kinda thought… wasn’t the weed the present?” 

“Pfff, no.” Billy replied. “What kind of present would that be? As if we didn’t already smoke weed on the regular.” 

He made them sound like potheads. They didn’t smoke that often… Then again, it did happen more frequently than their respective birthdays. 

“Yo, Buckley, can you go to my room and fetch my present for Steve too, now that you’re at it. It’s in the drawer of my bedside table.” Billy yelled, a lot louder than was necessary considering Robin was just in the next room. 

Steve whined. Billy’s voice was reverberating in his head. 

“Sure, you lazy fuck.” She yelled back, just as loud. 

They were so noisy!

“Open mine first!” Robin said as she sat down on the floor again, extending a rectangular package. 

Steve had to detangle himself from Billy, ignoring his mumbled complaints, before he tore into the brightly colored wrapping paper. He uncovered a thick book with a beautiful cover representing a sky full of stars. It was titled Long live the King. 

“I know you’ve taken to reading, these days, and this novel is amazing.” Robin assured. 

“It’s really not that good.” Billy grumbled, with a roll of his eyes.  

“Oh, you read it too?” Steve asked. 

“Uh… yeah, I did.” 

Billy was staring at Robin when he said it. And he was frowning. 

“Don’t listen to him, Steve, he’s being a buzzkill. You’re going to love it.” 

“I’m sure I will. Thanks Rob.” Steve hugged her.

He hoped Billy would still agree to help him with the book, even if he didn’t like it much. Ever since he knew Steve had trouble with written words, Billy would read to him all the time. It had become their thing. Steve loved his voice. Well, Steve loved everything about him, but that was off topic. 

“Now, here��s Hargrove gift.” 

Robin basically dropped the gift in Steve’s lap. The wrapping paper had multi-colored stars on it. Steve unraveled it carefully and found a set of pencils and a beautiful sketchbook. Billy and Robin’s gifts kind of coordinated aesthetically speaking, which was nice. Indeed, on the cover of the notebook was a drawing of the night sky, with the sea represented underneath. “My sea of stars”, was written on the front. 

Steve used to doodle distractingly during class. He’d been doing it since primary school. After he had graduated, his doodling habit had spread to his daily life. He would draw lines absentmindedly while he was on the phone or trace random shapes on discarded pieces of paper when he was watching TV but was too fidgety to focus. He hadn’t been seriously committed to drawing, though. He had only started making it into a real hobby after Starcourt. Billy had been the one to suggest it, in fact. After he’d literally come back to life, Steve and he had become good friends, and Billy had noticed his little habit and had bought him a sketch pad. Drawing helped Steve a lot. Gave him something to do when he was feeling restless, which was the case more often than not after the whole ‘Upside-Down and co’ experience. 

Steve was frustrated by his lack of technique, at first, and had almost given up on several occasions. But Billy had always been there to cheer him up and keep him going. He was certain Billy hadn’t even realized his compliments and encouragements had prevented Steve from calling it quits at least a dozen times. They spent hours together in their living room, on the couch, Steve drawing while Billy wrote in his huge notebook, with his feet on Steve’s lap. Steve was eager to spend many more hours that exact same way, drawing on the new sketchbook Billy had offered him. 

“It’s… it’s really nice, Billy. I love it. Thank you.”  

“You’re welcome, Pretty boy.”

They hugged, and Billy didn’t let him go, half-climbing on him again as they laid back down. 

“Ugh, guys, seriously, get a room.” Robin complained, which led to Steve blushing and Billy flipping her the bird. 

Steve would have attributed Billy’s behavior to the weed, but they had gotten more and more tactile since the beginning of their friendship about two years prior, so the weed didn’t have much to do with it. Except that maybe Billy would have waited for Robin to go to bed before attaching himself to Steve like a koala, if he hadn’t been high.

Either way, Steve was far from complaining: the more Billy touched him, the better. 

Before he went to bed that night, Steve took his secret sketchpad – the one in which he drew his best friend page after page (like an obsessed creep) – from under his mattress, and drew the version of Billy he had seen earlier: high Billy, with his lax body and hazy eyes.

A few minutes after putting his paper shrine back in its usual hiding spot, Steve fell asleep with a smile on his face, and the smell of Billy’s cologne on his own skin. He hoped all his birthdays to come would be similar to this one. 

*

When Steve got up the next morning, Billy and Robin were eating breakfast in the kitchen. 

He heard Billy say:

“Stop it, Robin. I can’t tell him, I just can’t.” 

It made no sense to him, since he had missed the beginning of the conversation, but his interest was picked. 

“You can’t tell who, what?” He asked as he went to the cupboard to get his favorite cereals. No way he would eat oatmeal like Robin and Billy. What a depressing way to start the day. 

“I, uh…” Billy started. Robin interrupted him, though: 

“He can’t tell his coworker that his new haircut looks stupid.” 

“Yeah… ‘Cause it would be mean, you know.” Billy added, before putting a huge spoonful of oatmeal in his mouth. 

“Uh… well, it’s true. It wouldn’t be a very nice thing to say, Rob.” Steve agreed. 

He put his box of cereals on the table and sat down next to Robin, in front of Billy, who was looking intently at his bowl.  

“Why do you think Billy should tell the poor guy his hair looks weird?” 

If anyone said that to Steve, he’d be devastated. That was for sure. 

“So he can let his hair grow back and have it cut in a more flattering way.” Robin explained. “It would be doing him a favor, in my opinion.”  

Steve hummed. “Makes sense”, he said. He was more focused on his fruit loops, though. It wasn’t like he cared about the guy anyway. He hadn’t even met him. 

Robin hadn’t either, so Steve didn’t know why she was so pressed on Billy giving him hair advice. Whatever floats her boat, he thought. 

His roommates were weird, sometimes. Nothing could be done about it. 

*

The next weekend, Steve and Billy were both off from their respective work, and Steve really wanted to start reading the book Robin had gotten him for his birthday. 

Billy was occupied with a novel of his own next to him, and Steve didn’t want to be a burden, so he started reading on his own. After a few pages, he was already hooked, but he got tired quickly, as he always did. Frustrated, he fidgeted a bit on the couch and brought the book closer to his face, as if it would help the words stop swimming in front of his eyes. 

Billy sighed. 

“What’s up, Pretty boy?” He asked, only then looking up from his own reading.

“I just… would it be okay… would you read to me? Please.” 

Billy sighed again, a bit louder. Steve’s face fell. It wasn’t that big of a deal, but Steve always looked forward to Billy reading out loud to him. 

“Sorry… I know you don’t like this book… I’ll ask Robin to read it to me when she gets home.” 

“No! I… I’ll do it, I’ll read for you. I really don’t mind.” Billy exclaimed. 

Steve was agreeably surprised by the amount of enthusiasm Billy displayed and he smiled at him when he handed him the book, letting their hands brush. 

“Thank you!” 

Steve kissed Billy’s cheek and laid his head on his shoulder.

“Don’t mention it, Pretty boy.”  

“Sure, I’ll mention it. It means a lot, you know.” 

Billy cleared his throat. “Right… if you say so.” 

Steve could feel the heat of Billy’s blush. 

He always downplayed the nice things he did, but Steve wouldn’t have it. He would keep showing Billy he was grateful for every little (and not so little) attention. Declaring his undying love to him would be a very effective way to make Billy realize how much Steve really appreciated him, but that would also do a lot more harm than good. Steve had to focus on the big picture, here. 

Billy began to read where Steve had stopped, and if Steve didn’t already know Billy disliked the book, he wouldn’t have been able to tell at all. He put his heart into it as he always did. Not only that, but Steve felt like Billy’s voice held even more emotion than it usually did. 

Steve fell into a sort of trance. The story was told in first person, from the point of view of a magician in a fantasy land, and Steve imagined himself as the narrator. In his mind, he could see everything Billy was describing: the village, the fields, the magnificent castle surrounded by a dark forest in which creatures lurked, the King who lived in the castle and whom the enchanter was secretly in love with.

Hours passed before Billy stopped reading. Still, Steve had to refrain himself from begging for one more chapter. He couldn’t be greedy; he didn’t want Billy to tire of him. 

“Here you go, Stevie.” 

“That was great. You’re the best.” 

“It’s just reading, Pretty boy. I didn’t hang the moon.” Billy mumbled. 

Steve nearly said “You might as well have”, but said: “It’s far better than ‘just reading’”, instead. That was a close call. 

They went to the kitchen to make dinner, and Robin came home from work right before the oven beeped. 

Steve ate his meal slowly, without really tasting it, and he didn’t say much, letting Robin and Billy do most of the talking. He was still somewhere far away, in a fantasy land ruled by a beautiful king. And, if the king was a carbon copy of Billy, it was nobody’s business but Steve’s. 

*

On Thursday, Billy went to Indianapolis, and Steve went with him. Apparently, Billy had been asked by his boss to go check and fix a few collection cars over there, and Billy had invited Steve to come with him. Said it would be fun. They’d spend the morning together and Billy would go to his work appointment after lunch.  

“Not that I’m not glad to have the opportunity of going on a fun little trip or anything, but couldn’t that guy find a garage in Indianapolis to take care of his cars? There must be more than a few.” Steve asked Billy, who had just started the car. 

“That’s because I’m the best in fucking Indiana, baby.” He said with a cocky grin. 

Steve rolled his eyes but couldn’t hold back his fond smile. 

“Right. Forget I asked.” 

“To answer more seriously, I don’t really know. But who gives a fuck? The guy paid extra… I mean like, a big wad of cash. So, fine by me.” 

Billy shrugged. 

Steve found it quite weird, but it was fine by him too. It wasn’t any of his business, anyway: he was just tagging along. 

He turned the radio on, and then Billy and he bickered for ages about what station to choose. That was somewhat of a tradition every time they were in a car together. 

“I’m driving, so I choose. It’s driver’s privilege, Pretty boy. Suck it up.” 

“But that’s not fair!” Steve whined. “You insisted to drive, it’s not like I had a choice.” 

“Too bad. You lose anyway.” 

Steve crossed his arms over his chest and pouted, making Billy laugh. The cold bastard. 

When they arrived in Indianapolis, Billy parked, and they chose a direction at random to go wander. Steve got caught up in some window-shopping, stopping abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk to stare at the newest Adidas sneakers behind the glass. 

Steve used to be given everything he wanted. Well, everything he wanted that could be bought with money. Now that he didn’t speak to his parents anymore and was financially independent, however, he couldn’t afford many unnecessary expenses. These shoes sadly fell into the “unnecessary” category. 

Billy had not immediately noticed Steve had stopped walking, so he had to go back on his tracks a little. 

“Hey, Stevie, give a guy a warning, would you? I turned to talk to you and you were not there anymore.” 

“Sorry, sorry. I was just… I wanted to take a look at these.” Steve pointed at the shoes. “I don’t know why I did, anyway… it’s not like I’m gonna buy them.” 

“Right… it’s fine. Let’s go get lunch, Pretty boy.” Billy said, steering him away from the shop, but not without giving the shoes a good look himself. 

They ate burgers and fries in a greasy joint they had stumbled upon. The food was pretty good. As a testament to that, Billy kept trying to steal fries off Steve’s basket. At first, Steve batted his hand away, but he gave up after a while. When Billy gave him a wide smile after finally succeeding, Steve couldn’t even be mad at him. He’d gave up all the fries in the world if it meant seeing Billy smile like that. Steve smiled back at him. 

In the afternoon, while Billy was at work, Steve went to a coffee shop and bought a cappuccino for himself, and a giant raisin oatmeal cookie to go for Billy. He grimaced a little as he ordered the latter. Billy really had weird tastes, sometimes. 

He sat down at a table and put the cookie in his backpack, before taking out his book. He progressed slowly, really slowly, only managing to read a chapter before he had to meet Billy back at the car. Yes, Steve had trouble with reading to begin with, but the fact that this book was making him emotional was not helping him read it any faster. 

He related to the narrator a lot. He, too, was in love with someone close to him yet unreachable. He, too, had to admire them in silence. And the object of his love was as beautiful and as brave as the King was described to be. The only difference was that the King was said to have brown hair and eyes.  

What the characters were going through also reminded him of what had happened because of the Upside-Down, in some way. Life in Hawkins was (or at least had been) so strange that it looked like something out of a fantasy novel. How wild was that? Steve mused, as he was waiting for Billy near his car. 

When Billy made it to the car, he was carrying a thick brown envelope in his right hand and a paper bag in the left. 

“Want some help with all that?” Steve asked. 

“Uh… No, thank you. I’ll be fine.” Billy assured, transferring the envelope in his left hand so he was carrying everything on the same side and could fetch the car keys from his pocket with his newly free hand. He opened the trunk and dropped everything in it. 

Steve didn’t bother asking what was in the envelope, or in the bag. If Billy had wanted to share the information, he already would have. Steve definitely wondered, though. 

“I have an oatmeal raisin cookie for you, if you’d like.” He said once they were in their seats, as he rummaged through his backpack in search of it. 

“Oh yeah thanks! that sounds perfect.” 

Billy took the paper bag from Steve’s hand as he unparked the car. Steve would have scolded him for eating while driving instead of focusing solely on the road, but that would have been slightly hypocritical of him. 

“Well, that’s a relief, because no way I’d have eaten that if you didn’t want it.” Steve made a face again. 

“That’s ‘cause you have bad tastes, Pretty boy.” Billy said, taking a big bite of the cookie and putting crumbs everywhere. 

Steve laughed. If only Billy knew how much Steve loved him, he would certainly backtrack on what he had just said.

“It’s delicious, you don’t know what you’re missing.” Billy said in between bites. 

Steve was watching him with a sad smile, glad that Billy’s eyes were on the road and not on him. It took him a few seconds to reply. 

“Oh I know, believe me. I know.” 

*

The next morning, when he woke up, Steve found the brown paper bag Billy had come back with at the foot of his bed. What the…? 

The idea of Billy sneaking into his room during the night to put it there made something tighten in his chest, but Steve was mostly preoccupied with finding out what was inside the bag. 

He basically jumped out of bed, which was very unusual of him (he was the exact opposite of a morning person), and reached for the bag. There was a box labelled Adidas in it… no way! Steve opened it with shaky hands and his jaw dropped. 

What… how… why? Steve was confused. Billy had gotten him the sneakers he’d been looking at in the shop window. How had he paid for them? Why would he spend so much money on Steve? Especially so soon after his birthday… This was far too much. 

Steve exited his room quicker than he would have if it had been on fire. 

“Billy!” Steve might have called his name slightly louder than he meant to.

Billy, who was sitting at the breakfast table with his back to Steve, jumped and put a hand over his heart. 

“Damn, Pretty boy, calm down. You nearly gave me a heart attack.” 

“What the fuck?” 

Robin darted her eyes between the two of them and announced: “I’ll leave you to it”, before retreating to her room with her bowl of disgustingly bland oatmeal. 

“What gives, Stevie?” 

“You know what, Billy. The shoes. What the fuck? Why did you buy them?” 

“Isn’t that obvious? You wanted them, and I wanted you to have them. It’s not that big a deal.” Billy was not looking at him as he spoke. 

Steve’s heart nearly melted. Because that was so fucking sweet of Billy to do what he did, and then say something like that. He couldn’t possibly accept the gift, though.  

“Not that big a deal? They’re so expensive, Billy… I can’t … I can’t just take them… it wouldn’t be right.” 

“Look, Steve… As I told you, my client from yesterday paid really well, and it’s my money, so I get to decide how to spend it, and I wanted to spend it on these shoes, for you. So please, keep them. They’re your size and not refundable, anyway. Either you keep them or they’ll just rot in the cupboard. That’s up to you.”

Steve was almost certain Billy was bullshitting him on the “not refundable” part, but he didn’t argue. It would be no use: Billy always won.  

So, he just hugged him tightly instead. Billy froze for a second, but quickly let go of the spoon he was still holding to hug Steve back. 

“Thank you so much. I don’t know what I did to deserve that.” 

“You don’t need to do anything in particular, Pretty boy. Being yourself is more than enough.” 

Steve was not a crier, but his eyes were undeniably misty. Billy couldn’t keep being so sweet and expect Steve to reign his feelings in. They were on the verge of overflowing already. 

After finally letting go of Billy (not before leaving a kiss on top of his head, though), Steve put the sneakers on. 

“Steve, seriously… you’re still wearing your pajamas.” 

Steve’s pajamas consisted in frayed basketball shorts and a old Hawkins High t-shirt, so it was fine to wear the sneakers with them in Steve’s book. And he wouldn’t take these off until he absolutely had to. 

“So what?” Steve asked. 

Billy rolled his eyes, but his ears were red. 

*

About a week later, Steve’s nightmares paid him a visit. They had left him alone for a while, but Steve knew they’d be back eventually. He saw Billy die again, which was simultaneously his worst and most common nightmare. 

“Hey, Steve. Stevie. Wake up, please.” 

He was shaken awake.

Thankfully, Billy was the one to wake him up from his dream, so Steve instantly knew he was alive and well. Steve threw his arms around him, buried his face in his neck, and inhaled his scent to calm himself down. 

Billy held him close and rubbed his back, whispering reassuring words in his ear:   

“You’re okay, Pretty boy. You’re fine. It was just a dream.” 

Yes, Steve was alright. But the most important thing was that Billy was. That had been the object of Steve’s concern. 

“I’m sorry… did I wake you?”

Billy sighed. 

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t mind, Steve?” 

“As many times as I have to tell you the same thing.”

Billy’s room was right next to Steve’s. It wasn’t the first time he woke Billy up with his nightmare-induced screams. And Billy’s night terrors had woken Steve up a few times too. 

“Touché.” Billy said. “Do you think you’ll be able to go back to sleep?” He added after a pause. 

“I don’t know… Could you read to me again?” 

“Sure, if it helps.” Billy agreed. 

Steve snatched the book from his bedside table and handed it to Billy, who opened it where the bookmark indicated Steve had stopped. 

“You read all this by yourself?” There was awe in Billy’s voice. 

Steve was blushing, but in the low light of his bedside lamp, it was probably not very noticeable. At least, he could always hope. 

“Yeah… uh… I was really into it.” 

He had read about seven chapters on his own, which, added to the ones Billy had read to him the other day, only left three before they reached the end. 

“Steve, you did really good!” 

Steve blushed even harder. His face was burning at that point. Billy sounded so proud of him. 

“It’s not like it’s a great achievement, or anything… but yeah, I guess it’s progress.” 

“Hey, of course it’s progress. It’s a lot, Steve. Don’t diminish your accomplishments.” Billy said in a firm tone.

“Okay, okay. I won’t.” 

“Good.” Billy sprawled on the bed and leaned against the headboard. He then tugged on Steve’s arm. “Now settle down.” 

Steve did as he was told and settled right next to him, resting his head on Billy’s chest and putting an arm over his waist. Steve loved the feeling of Billy’s naked skin against his. When they had first moved in together, Billy wore long-sleeved t-shirts almost constantly, self-conscious as his scars made him. Now, he slept in nothing but shorts. Steve wasn’t the only one who had been making progress.

Billy was barely three sentences into the third to last chapter when his voice broke. He cleared his throat and resumed the reading as if nothing had happened. His voice was now breathy, though. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yes.”

“You sure? We can stop.” 

“I’m sure, Pretty boy. Now shut up and let me read.” 

Steve effectively shut up and Billy got back to the task at hand. 

In the last three chapters, the King lost his kingdom, the magician finally confessed their love and found out it was in fact reciprocated. Then, the narrator described their first kiss with the King, a kiss that made Steve’s chest constrict with longing. The fact that it was Billy’s voice describing it only made the longing ten time worse. 

As Billy read the last words: “He was not ruling the kingdom anymore, but to me he would always be king. My king, my light, my love, my everything”, Steve was on the verge of tears. 

He regularly went through terrifying nightmares and found himself unable to spill a single tear, but this book might do the trick. And okay, it might have been a bit mushy, but Steve was really digging it, alright? 

He opened his eyes and saw a tear stain on the last page. For a second, he thought he had already started crying without noticing, but his cheeks were dry. It then occurred to him that the tear had come from Billy. 

Steve put the book away from him and had to straddle him so they could be face to face. He then wiped Billy’s tears, but they kept coming. 

“What’s the matter, Billy?” 

Unlike Steve, Billy was a crier. Steve had seen him cry a bunch of times, when he’d been particularly tired, or sad, or frustrated. However, there was something he was not getting: why had Billy pretended he didn’t like the book in the first place? It had to be the book. What other reason did Billy have to cry right now?

“I… I’m sorry.” Billy just said before he started properly bawling and hid his face in his hands.  

Steve was even more confused… and slightly panicked. 

“Hey… hey… please, tell me what’s wrong. I… I don’t know what to do.”

Steve circled Billy’s wrists to ground him, but he didn’t try to pull his hands away from his face for fear it might make him retreat further into himself. 

“I just… this book hits me really hard.” His voice was muffled, but Steve could still make out the words.  

“But… you said it wasn’t very good.”

Billy lowered his hands. His eyes were red and puffy. 

“I meant it… It still makes me sad, though.” 

Steve frowned. He didn’t think a book could elicit such reaction in someone who didn’t like it all that much. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Steve wouldn’t have judged Billy, he would have understood. He never wanted Billy to feel so bad, and even less if it happened because of something Steve had asked of him. 

“I should have… I should have said something. I’m sorry.” Billy’s breathing was uneven, and Steve could see his tears threatening to come back. 

“Hey, no. Don’t be sorry. You don’t have to apologize. Just tell me next time, okay?”

Billy nodded and Steve smiled at him tentatively. 

“Let’s go to bed.” 

“Yeah, sounds good.” Billy mumbled. 

Steve turned the lights off before moving from Billy’s lap to lay down. As Billy snuggled up with him, Steve couldn’t help but think about his recent behavior. Billy was acting a tad strange these days. He had gotten a lot better at expressing his feelings verbally in the last couple of years, and Steve was positive that the Billy he knew would have told him the book would upset him instead of pretending he would be fine. 

Steve would have to talk to him when he was more clear-headed. The last thing he wanted was for Billy to close himself off again.   

*

Thank you for reading :D 

#Harringrove #Steve Harrington #Billy Hargrove #fluffl #a lot of fluff with a side of plot #Robin Buckley #Harringrove fanfiction #Stranger Things #part 1 #part 1 of 2

[rankdisasster]

in utero

“So, remember those prompts... well, I got more for you. Need 13 and 31, have fun with those two. ;P” requested by @fortheloveofhargrove

#13: “I thought you were dead.”

#31: “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.”

warnings: ANGST 

—

Billy clicked his tongue and sang along to some mindless catchy tune beneath his breath as he eyed the dark and lonely road ahead of him. The radio was playing something he’d never even heard of before, but he was in a mood so good, so rare that it didn’t even matter. Drives like these were his favorite, when the world would just shut the fuck up for a second and he could run away to fantasy land in peace without any unwelcome intrusions. His right foot eased the gas pedal further down, gradually accelerating in hopes to arrive at his destination early so he could surprise her once she’s off the plane. The blonde boy behind the wheel felt almost as if he’d gotten slapped in the face with nostalgia as he recalled the last conversation he’d had with her before leaving.

Goodbyes were a thing that were never not painful or unsettling. That all too familiar dread of not knowing whether it’ll be the last time he’d see her, hug her, hell; even fucking smell her. As if it happened only yesterday, the boy could still hear the girl’s soft weeping muffled in his chest, can practically feel the way her body moved up and down with each broken sob. It was difficult to see someone usually so fearless, so composed and put together, like some CIA agent from an action flick break down and curl into him for warmth and support. He let a couple (okay, maybe more than a couple) salty tears of his own fall as he held her in his lap.

Y/N had been an irreplaceable constant back in the glory days, her having never broken his trust nor the laundry list of promises she’d sworn once the heartache of his departure had blown over. It was foolish to think that even for a second he could get over the bitterness of starting all over again at some mundane public school. It was also just as foolish to think he could just forget about missing her as the weeks turned to months and the months added up to a year. But that was just another ploy the universe threw his way, seemingly enjoying Billy’s pain and suffering. Tonight though, tonight was gonna be different. He won’t let a single thing overshadow him any longer. He refused to listen to his inner tormentor deep down that laughed whenever he tried rationalizing how he would go about giving his confession, telling her his secret. As Billy goes over the script in his head, he clears his throat and adjusts the rear view mirror to himself as he practices his performance again. Real casual-like, he flashes a smile over at his reflection, pretending it’s her that’s watching.

“Y/N, lookin’ ah, looking good. Beautiful, actually. Know you already got a line of guys tellin’ you this every damn day, but I mean it when I say you somehow get prettier every time I see you. I really missed us hanging out, y’know? Takes me back to all those long nights, and uh... since I left I’ve been thinkin’ a lot...” he licks his lips and thinks back to the lines he’d gone over in his head like clockwork. His face twists into something more down and depressing, like whatever he’s trying to say will only burden their already troubled lives. “Too much, actually. I realize I’ve done almost nothing else worth my fucking time here except think of you whenever I feel shitty or, or like when everything is too much yet not enough. It’s been — been one of the only things I feel has real meaning to it for once, actually makes sense. ‘Cause you get me, and no one ever surprises me unless you do, and ah...” the blushing blonde shakes his head, a stray blonde curl falling to his forehead in the process of scolding himself with a swear before starting over.

“You know what? Fuck this. Let’s just go. We could just fuck off somewhere, go get a couple drinks, have a couple laughs, and... fuck. Shut up, you idiot. Don’t quote Die Hard on her for fuck sake,” he slaps his palm on his face, scoffing at his own stupidity before his eyes grew twice their size realizing how close the airport had become in the distance. He feels the same old doubt return right over his shoulder, and it smirks as if it’s being proven right; that telling her what he feels really is a horrible mistake. That it’s nothing but a rotten idea he’ll regret when she laughs in his face and turns around to fly right back to Santa Monica.

Billy’s heart is practically in his mouth by the time he pays for the ridiculously priced parking ticket and makes his way to the gate. His fucking leg somehow decides to grow a mind of its own, bouncing up and down with urgency while his teeth are occupied with chewing his fingernails down to the nub. He remembers when the roles were reversed once upon a time, when he was on the plane and she was the one agitated while sitting in the airport. Y/N still had that precious pink flush coating her cheeks when he was ready to board his flight, holding onto one of his biceps when she’d whispered something in his ear that had stuck with him:

”Don’t ever forget to remember me, okay?”

When Billy finally opens his eyes back up to the world around him, a herd of exhausted and enthusiastic travelers alike have exited the gate and met their loved ones with tired hugs and kisses. He rubs his pant leg to settle down while eagerly scoping the crowd for her hair or her face. When his wide eyes finally lands on her, the twang in his gut seeps back up to the surface, making Billy helplessly weak in the knees as he throws himself off the chair and into a pose ready for a warm welcome. He flails his arms in the air for her attention and calls out her name with repetition like a nuisance, both careless and unaware of the ruckus he’s stirred in front of all the annoyed families surrounding him. When Y/N had seen it was Billy that was screaming up a storm, her face cracks up into that same shit-eating grin he’s always known and loved then jogs over. The desperate pair reunite in the middle.

“I thought you were dead or something, asswipe! Why didn’t you ever write or call?” Y/N squealed in his arms as he picks her up and spins her around with sloppy grace. Billy bites his lower lip as he puts her down, his hands going down to cup her cheeks with tenderness, as if she were something to be cherished forever, and she is.

“Eh, some things are just better said face-to-face I guess,” he shrugged, giving her cheek a peck before bending over to pick her bags up and swing them effortlessly over his shoulder. As they bicker back and forth like the good old days while making their way to the dark busy parking lot, Billy can say with utter undeniable truth that he genuinely feels all is right with the world again.

—

“I can’t believe I’m even here right now and finally seeing this dump that stole my best friend with my own two eyes. I mean I got like eighty bucks to my name, little to no idea where I’ll stay, but I actually made it!” she hollered, playfully giving the blonde’s ass a painless smack. He reacted with a bashful jump and a laugh, struggling with her bags under pressure. “Can’t wait to see your car again ‘cause man I missed her. Old Martha still runnin’ smooth and pretty, I presume?”

Billy felt breathless as he set her luggage down to the pavement, reaching for his car keys to unlock the trunk before hauling them inside and slamming it closed. He stops to look back at her with a twinkle of mockery in his eye.

“So that’s what you named my car, huh? Martha?” he fact-checks, going over to the passengers side to open it for her, the chivalry he only abided by around her in particular coming back like it never left at all. Like they were still the same confused teenagers first meeting, getting into mischief just to busy their bland, empty agendas. She gives him a half-hearted shrug before explaining.

“Heard it’s good luck to name everything you own, amirite? Plus, you got no right making fun of that name. That’s my aunt’s name, ‘case you forgot stealing all her pot from her sock drawer and smoking it with me at school,” Y/N retorts with a finger pointed at him accusingly. The blonde behind the wheel let’s out a sarcastic ha ha at the memory, starting up the Camaro and backing out as the girl in the passenger’s side messes with the radio. The fond memories have flooded back almost uncontrollably; he can’t wait to make more, even if they only had tonight.

“In our defense that’s a shitty place to hide all that dope, alright? And uh, pretty sure that’s with boats. You name a boat and that gives you good luck. Not a car, you fuckin’ genius.”

Her face scrunches up in thought as if that’s the most mind-boggling thing she’s ever heard, and it ruins Billy with how fucking cluelessly perfect the facial expression is. He watches with intent as she snaps out of it in a hurry. “What you just said makes literally no sense, but I’ll ignore the ridicule and cut to the chase, Bilbo. What is it you’ve been up to without me or the beach? Gone insane yet?” she teased the last part in his ear, putting a hand on his right shoulder and giving it a squeeze. It takes Billy a moment to try and get used to how normal this really is, being touched by her, and he’d nearly forgotten that she’ll give any guy with a heartbeat the exact same treatment. Billy wasn’t an exception, and surely he wasn’t the first guy to get butterflies either.

With a clear of his throat, he throws back on his social mask for stability before shaking his head, the disbelief out in the open within his tone. “Are you fucking kidding, Smalls? ‘Course I did. What good is anywhere or anything when it doesn’t involve you or the goddamn beach?” Billy finished, finding his way onto the main road and putting the airport in his rear view. The driver thinks back two years prior and reminisced on all the adventures they had in Santa Monica before the inevitable happened. He fixed his hair absentmindedly (maybe even a little self-consciously) before reluctantly rambling on under his breath about what’s been ruined since he got taken away from paradise.

“Not a lot goes on ‘round here. Seriously. Place reaks like cowshit, haven’t met anyone worth my time. Max doesn’t seem to think so though, I guess. She’s even made more friends than me. Like... sure, I found this group of jackasses that worship me for knowin’ how to hold my booze, but I haven’t found anything like what we had. Not even close.” Billy swallows, looking back up to the rear view mirror like how he practiced on the way over. It isn’t the same, and he feels too vulnerable saying anything like that out loud with her sitting right fucking there. So he does what any man in the right mind would do, and reacts to his fear, his doubt. He backs down and changes the subject without looking in her direction to see her face. The boy faked a chuckle, an unconvincing one, then keeps his eyes on the road so he doesn’t fucking crash them.

“Tried to liven things up a little, but it’s so goddamn boring, y’know? So uh, anyway, that’s... yeah.”

It starts off sounding so pitiful, then it ends so fucking weak and pathetic. The blonde foolishly hoped and hoped, knowing he could do it, could put everything into English and say it. But he can’t. It gets stuck on his tongue, stuck like a gross aftertaste of something he can’t get rid of. It stings.

He feels his other leg not pressed on the gas physically twitch when the girl beside him puts a palm on his lap to soothe him of imaginary worries. Her eyes were practically scraping to get inside his soul and have it be her own place to call home when he merely glanced at her. It took an enormous amount of will power not giving in to the temptation, but he pulls it off by distracting himself with views of the dark road ahead.

“Yeah, also uh, my old man won’t know you came here for me. I made sure of it. We’ve got all night to catch up,” he ended on a high note, now finding himself grin at all the possibilities awaiting as the girl now has taken to copying him by eyeballing the lifeless scenery out the window that is Hawkins.

After a hasty moment, she hums to acknowledge him and follows it up with a soft, somewhat unsure murmur. “That’s good. Great, actually. I um, I got lots of shit to fill you in on, and I mean a lot, but... anyways, it’s not important. Fuck. Hey, there any places to eat ‘round here? I’m starving,” she finished with glee, deciding to ditch the mood-killing approach at telling him what had happened to her while he was gone.

The blonde hums as he threw a smile at the road, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel in excitement, back in the groove. He had just overreacted, that’s all. Their evening didn’t have to depend on what she said back. He could tell her later on and be at peace whether or not she reciprocated his longing for more.

“Alright. Well uh, lucky for you, Smalls, I know just the right place for us. Get ready for the baddest burgers in this shit town, ‘kay?”

Y/N let out a snort after holding her breath a beat too long, shoving her partner’s shoulder before gluing her eyes to the road.

—

“... So then I’m running as fast as I possibly can to get outta there before this fat guy could catch me, he even threatened me with a goddamn gun. Surprisingly he was really fast, too, alright. Like — like The Flash fast. ‘Coulda almost beat ‘em too, but right after I’m rushing to hop this fence, I jump too high and lose my grip. The ground really knows how to whoop my ass,” Billy snorted as he incessantly raved about the shit pot he’d stirred. After trespassing private property not only on a school night, but also at four in the morning. “Oh, also landed right on the money maker,” he smirked, gesturing towards his face with a French fry covered in ketchup between his fingers. “I think I lost a tooth while I was at it, too.”

“Fucking A, Billy! Dude, to be fair, from the sound of it you really got what you deserved,” Y/N pointed out while marveling at his male idiocracy, a goofy scowl plastered on her face as she shook her head back and fourth. She dropped the napkin she’d crumbled up in her palms to her half-empty plate of a classic diner burger and the French fries that Billy had no shame in picking at. He nodded while looking like he was proud of the chaos he’d created, taking his partner’s Cherry-Vanilla Coke and slurping the remaining sip through the straw. He hadn’t had an appropriate moment to give telling her their situation another try, but he’s content with the comfortable familiarity of exchanging both horrific and grotesque stories in each other’s absence. It felt like slipping on an old pair of boots that still fit somehow, still felt good to wear and walk around in, and he wasn’t willing to unlace them or take them off quite yet.

“Yeah yeah, what goes around comes around. I know. Speaking of which, you uh, you got any news to tell me?” the boy asked suspiciously, recalling how their only topic of conversation all night had been solely regarding his whereabouts and only vague answers coming from her. “I know you weren’t up to any good either, Smalls. Pretty hard to deny, what with our reputations and all.” he grinned, pulling a nearly empty pack of Menthols and sticking one on his lip, signaling their waitress for the check with a hand gesture. Y/N’s face twists into something worrisome, brows knitted, lip bit, arms crossed like she wanted to disappear. She was hiding something.

The uneasiness doesn’t rest lightly on the boy’s shoulders at her expression, and thankfully their waitress has great timing and clears their table of their finished goods.

“Can we talk outside, maybe? Or, or just go— just go somewhere where we can —“

Billy scrambled to assure her that her wish was his command, breaking whatever unwelcome tension with a helpful hand on her shoulder. “Of course, Smalls. You don’t know where you’re staying tonight, right?”

A watery smile spreads on her small face, a slight shake of the head that says no, I’ve had no idea where the fuck to stay every night for months, dipshit.

“Look, I have a plan for you, okay? Got you money for a room at this motel not very far, I’ll take care of you.” he swore, unzipping his jacket and covering her back with it as the frosty air nipped their cheeks on the way outside. The moon glowed in the sky, acting like a night light for them as they approached Old Martha, cranking the heat in as soon as they were both safe inside.

The pair sit in silence, the boy unaware of what’s changed or made her stiffen up; the girl unaware of how she’ll confess something that only a select few know and have already judged.

“Now what— no, who the hell is it that made you this upset, huh?” he threatens to the unknown source of his best friend’s pain, already getting revved up to fly back home and settle this out with his fists. Their destinated motel only a mile away and seatbelts not even fastened.

“I’ve — I’ve been keeping something from you.”

Billy blinks stupidly and throws his hands off the steering wheel and in the air. Could this be it? Could it mean the same thing as him keeping something from her? Nothing is getting answered fast enough, and he’s so sick of waiting. “Okay? And what the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

Y/N chews her bottom lip and rests her elbow on the door, her palm now gathering the dramatic beads of sweat from her forehead. “It means I’ve got a reputation; you know, I know, the whole fucking population of Santa Monica knows, Billy! You don’t need to act dumb, okay, it isn’t cute anymore.”

The driver squints in utter bewilderment, finally pushing the brake with impatience, making them bounce forward at the sudden stop. The Camaro sits outside the motel as droplets of rain grow heavier and louder as it pecks on the windows. It could almost drown out the feeling of intensity in the small space.

The blonde pinched the bridge of his nose like an irritated diva, pairing that with a seemingly apathetic eye roll. “I was only kidding back there about that shit. You know I don’t believe that nonsense about you... sleepin’ around or whatever, okay. I only believe you. I trust your word over those assholes and their tendency of spreading fucked up lies about any girl in school, ‘kay?”

Y/N felt on the brink of a drastic explosion, going as far as to open the window and sticking her head outside to feel the raindrops pool around her face, tickling her with its’ gentleness.

“Hey, get your head back in here. You’re gonna catch a cold, and then you’ll have to fly back home sick tomorrow, alright, so could we just cut the charade and talk like adults—” Billy’s reprimand was interrupted by Y/N’s surprising outburst.

“I don’t have a home anymore!” she screeched, yanking her head back inside and flipping her wet hair out of her face before crossing her arms stubbornly. “It was taken away from me. Got kicked out ‘cause of my reputation,” she trailed off as he turned his head to the side in concern mixed with confusion, his jaw wide enough to catch flies. Before spitting another useless question at her, he swallowed with unstoppable nerve and cautiously reached over to her door and roll the window back up.

“Smalls, I’m — I’m fucking sorry. So sorry. But right now all’s I wanna do is get you nice and dry. Cozy too, and in our own space with no one to bother us or... or even kick us out. I’m gonna get your bags, we’ll go fetch a room, and then continue this by then, okay?” he whispered, finding his fingers had gotten wet while delicately petting her damp locks. Her lips wiggled like she was gonna blow into tears any second, and he really hated the sight, but whoever was responsible in making her homeless was gonna be sorry they ever caused someone as close to Billy as she was so much pain.

The rain came down and soaked the blonde’s hair, color fading to a chestnut brown under the weather as he fumbled with his keys to get into the trunk as fast as possible. Her bags weren’t the lightest, but it must’ve been nearly all her belongings if she didn’t have a home anymore. They rested like rocks on his back and in his grasp as he gave Y/N the signal to hurry out as to not get any more drenched than her face had already become. Billy spits on the pavement before counting down from three on his fingers, and as soon as he got to one she was out and flailing in the rain with him, both eager to get warmth and shelter. Some giggles were even shared as they cringed feeling their clothes sticking to their bodies before finally making it inside.

The guy behind the counter wasn’t amused by their boisterous entrance, but they couldn’t find it in them to feel bad. After getting themselves a room key, they forced themselves to put a hault on their dispute for now, just like pressing the pause button on a TV remote; Billy rubbing her lower back in the elevator once he’d set her luggage down and Y/N leaning further into him as tears threatened to wilt out of her. Finding room 1408 thankfully wasn’t like a game of Where’s Waldo, and they’d both gotten comfortable quickly in the tidy space. The boy had set her things down as she fled to the restroom. He’d taken to counting all the shapes he could make out on the tacky wallpaper and got stopped at number fifty-eight. Y/N emerged from the bathroom much drier yet back in a similar state as before; frightened and uncomfortable. Taking action, he threw himself off the King sized bed and took her into his embrace.

“You’re safe with me, you do realize that, right?” he muttered, trying his hardest to keep it together like the broken girl in his arms. She trembled in a way that said she didn’t know she was safe, like she still felt wrong. In one swift movement, she shoved him backward and left him stumbling in ignorance and hurt, barely giving him a warning before she finally snapped.

“It’s true what those boys said about me, what I did with them. You would’ve known that by now if you had a goddamn brain instead of this... this giant heart of a puppy,” she cradled her head in guilt and shame for everything coming from her mouth, stepping back and avoiding his eyes all together. “I slept with the basketball team, the football team, even the fucking tennis club! You name it, I’ve fucked it. You know what’s crazy about this, other than the amount?” she asked rhetorically, her voice winding down to a broken whisper.

Billy feels his eyes well up and he doesn’t put energy into stopping it. There are veins bulging, flaming up in places he hadn’t even known he had. He recalls all the side eyed looks from the boys while he walked down the halls with her, when he’d ditch to smoke her aunt’s dope with her, or in class laughing with her. They weren’t ogling him because they thought they’d be a cute couple. They were laughing at him in silence because he was whipped for Santa Monica’s school skank.

“I don’t regret all of it; well, all but one. You, you remember Chris Hooker, he was your runner up? Chris fucking idolized you, Billy. He wanted to be like you so bad that... he thought one way of being like you was to get with me. And I let him after you left, I was so lonely that I’d do just about anything to cover up the shitstorm of losing you; and if that meant fucking this guy that always dressed like you and acted like you all the time— then so be it.” Y/N shrugged, trying to wipe the endless waterfall of tears as she watched Billy break too.

“You... you didn’t—“ he tried to deny, shaking his head and mimicking her by cradling his head in his hands as he walked in circles back and fourth, not believing anything he’s hearing. She sniffled and rubbed her nose with her sleeve before coming closer to him, looking him in the eye the first time since her confession begun.

“It happened, and I’ve never been this sorry about anything in my life, Billy. In fact, I even said sorry to him, ‘cause I couldn’t take care of it or even myself after he knocked me up and turned my life into this, this total hellhole—“

“You got kicked out because they found out,” Billy mumbles when he came to the realization, staring as if he were hypnotized by the painting of an angel hung up on the wall behind her. “They found out that you got pregnant, then you got rid of it... so they ended up punishing you.”

Y/N clung to him tighter before confirming with an uneasy nod, a sob escaping and tearing through her as she got red.

“I never named it, so I guess it didn’t bring good luck, remember?” she reminded him of their previous conversation when she first landed, stroking his arms up and down with tenderness. “You um, you missed a part of the story actually, a really important one.”

The blonde recoiled from his partner and scrubbed his arms in hysteria, feeling hopeless and weak and like all his doubt had fed to his brain was right. He wasn’t an exception. He wasn’t the good guy, he was just another guy going nuts for the same girl everybody else in their entire class ever did.

“Stop it! Stop hurting yourself, Billy, this is my fault. I should’ve told you sooner that—“

“What? What’s left to say now?”

“That I—“

”WHAT?” his fists were clenched and thick at his sides, the jealousy and the disgust overtaking him and fueling a fire that hadn’t started over night.

“That I love you!” she had shouted, both of them spiraling out of the devastating tornado of abandonment and lies, now joining together in the middle; mirroring their warm welcome at the airport just hours before. Billy’s fingers shoved her by her hips so that they were skin-to-skin as he finally went in for the kiss all the guys back home already knew but he himself had never gotten to experience. They were both gone, desperate for their touches and their actions to say everything they’d wanted to say. The apologies, the love, the hurt. She tasted lovely on his tongue, and he waited for the need to breathe to become nearly unbearable before even thinking of pulling away. Their mouths made a smacking sound as their lips left eachothers, making Billy let out a helpless, weak in the knees sounding moan.

“And to finish the missing part, um... I can’t keep kissing random strangers pretending that they’re you,” she whispers in his ear, bashfully coming back down from her tippy-toes right after giving a playful nibble to his ear and a warm kiss on the cheek. Billy thinks back to his alone time talking in the mirror, all the things he said and wrote down, practiced for this very moment. Like clockwork, he spouts the rehearsed lines out that felt like daggers holding inside.

“Smalls... since I’ve been gone, ah... all’s I’ve done is nearly nothing worth my time except, only except thinking of you when I feel like everything is a lot. And also like everything was never really enough. It’s like one of the only things I feel like has meaning to it for once. ‘Cause you get me, I get you. No one ever surprises me unless you do. And I fucking love you even more, Y/N, and I’d like to make you forget. Forget about those dicks, forget about your parents. You’re with me from here on out, you understand? Smalls?” he opens his eyes to see her doing that thing again, where she scrapes into his soul and nests inside, makes it a home for herself. It makes him melt in all the right and wrong ways imaginable.

“I understand.”

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #billy hargrove x you

[the-little-crime-writer]

Allen, Louis - murder victim (1964)

A native of Amite County, Mississippi, born in 1922, Louis Allen dropped out of school in the seventh grade to become a logger and part-time farmer. Drafted by the U.S Army in January 1943, he served 19 months in uniform, including combat duty in New Guinea. Upon discharge from service, he returned to his wife and two young children, the beginning of a family that soon increased to six. Although a proud African American, Allen had no part in the civil rights movement that challenged Mississippi's pervasive system of racial segregation in 1961. He would become a martyr to that movement by coincidence, strictly against his will.

One who joined the Amite County movement willingly was 50 year old Herbert Lee, a member of the National Association for the Advancement of Coloured People (NAACP) and participant in the 1961 voter-registration drive by Robert Moses of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee. Blacks who sought to vote in Amite County faced intimidation and worse, from racist vigilantes and from Sheriff E.L. Caston Jr., whose deputies raided NAACP meetings and confiscated membership lists. A neighbour of Lee's farmer E.W. Steptoe, led the local NAACP chapter and complained to the U.S. Department of Justice about Caston's harassment. On September 24, 1961, Justice attorney John Doar visited Amite County with Robert Moses, interviewing Steptoe and requesting names of any other blacks who had suffered harassment. Herbert Lee's name was first on the list, but Doar missed him that afternoon, as Lee was called away from home on business. There would never be another chance for them to meet. Early on September 25, the day after Doar returned to Washington, Lee drove a truckload of cotton to the gin near Liberty, Mississippi. Behind him, as he pulled into the parking lot, was another vehicle occupied by state legislator E.H. Hurst and his son in law, Billy Caston. An argument ensued between Hurst and Lee and climaxed when Hurst drew a pistol and shot Lee once in the head, killing him instantly. Robert Moses later described the event and its aftermath to journalist Howard Zinn. 

Lee's body lay on the ground that morning for two hours, uncovered, until they finally got a funeral home in McComb to take it in. Nobody in Liberty would touch it. They had a coroner's jury that very same afternoon. Hurst was acquitted. He never spent a moment in jail...I remember reading very bitterly in the papers the next morning, a little item on the front page of the McComb Enterprise-Journal said that a Negro had been shot as he was trying to attack E.H. Hurst. And that was it. Might have thought he'd been a bum. There was no mention that Lee was a farmer, that he had a family, nine kids, beautiful kids, and that he had farmed all his life in Amite County. 

One witness to the shooting was Louis Allen, who arrived at the cotton gin moments before Lee was killed. He watched Lee die, then saw a second white man lead E.H. Hurst to a nearby vehicle, whereupon they departed from the scene. Allen retreated to a nearby garage, where one of Liberty's white residents located him and walked him back to the cotton gin. En route to the crime scene, Allen's escort told him, 'They found a tire iron in that nigger's hand. They found a piece of iron, you hear?' 

Allen knew better, but he had a wife and four children to consider. Within the hour, he found himself at the county courthouse, where a coroner's hearing had been hastily convened. White men armed with pistols packed the hearing room, glaring at Allen as he took the witness stand and lied under oath, confirming the tale that Herbert Allen had been armed, assaulting E.H. Hurst when he was shot. The jury wasted no time in returning the verdict of 'justifiable homicide.' Hurst subsequently told the New York Times that he had quarrelled with Lee over $500 debt, which Lee refused to pay. When Lee attacked him with the tire iron.' Instead, he had struck Lee with the trigger unconsciously.' Hurst denied Lee's civil rights activity, dubbing his victim ' a smart nigger' who normally avoided conflict with whites. Guilt-ridden by his false testimony, Allen confessed the lie to his wife and to Robert Moses. Elizabeth Allen described the conversation in a 1964 affidavit, as follows:

The day Herbert Lee was killed, Louis came home and said that they wanted him to testify that Herbert Lee had a piece of iron. He said that Herbert Lee didn't have no iron. But he said for his family and for his life he had to tell that he had an iron. Louis told me that he didn't want to tell no story about the dead, because he couldn't ask them for forgiveness. They had two courts about Herbert Lee's killing. When they had the second court, Louis did not want to testify. He said he didn't want to testify no more that a man ad a piece of iron when he didn't have it, but he said he didn't have no choice, he was there and he had to go to court. He said he told the FBI the truth, that Herbert Lee didn't have a piece of iron when he was shot

The 'second court' was a state grand jury hearing, convened in Amite County a month after Lee was shot. Allen approached Robert Moses, reporting that he had told his story to FBI agents, suggesting that he could get protection with the Justice Department he would testify truthfully and 'let the hide go with the hair.' Moses then telephoned Washington, and heard from Justice that 'there was no way possible to provide protection for a witness at such a hearing' )In fact, such protection is routinely offered to witnesses in organised crime cases and similar matters.)  Allen went on to repeat his false story before the grand jury, which returned no indictments. 

Things went from bad to worse for Allen after that, as Amite County whites apparently learned of his abortive effort to tell the truth. Strangers visited Allen's home and accosted his children, threatening his life. In June 1962 Allen was arrested on trumped up charges of 'interfering with the law'; he spent three weeks in jail, and was threatened with lynching, and suffered a broken jaw after one of Sheriff Caston's deputies struck him with a flashlight. White customers stopped buying logs from Allen, and local merchants cut off his credit at various stores. Only his ailing mother kept Allen from leaving Amite County, but her death in late 1963 freed him at last. Eagerly, Allen made plans to leave Mississippi for Milwaukee, where his brother lived.

Unfortunately, he had already waited too long. On January 1st, 1964, one of Allen's white creditors stopped at the house to collect a bill payment. While Allen counted out the money, his visitor pointed to Allen's three year old daughter playing nearby, and remarked, 'It would be mighty bad if she turned up burnt, wouldn't it? She's an innocent baby, but she could get burnt up just like that. I could tell you more, but I'm not. If I was you I would get my rags together in a bundle and leave here.'

Resolved to do exactly that, on January 31, 1964, Allen sought work references from some of his former clients. The first, Melvin Blalock, declined to provide a letter, concerned that he 'might be helping a communist.' Another, Lloyd King, later recalled speaking to Allen around 8:10 pm. Two cars were seen trailing Allen's pickup when he left King's farm, driving home. At the foot of his long driveway, Allen left his truck to open the gate, then apparently threw himself under the vehicle. The move failed to save him, as two shotgun blasts ripped into his face. Son Henry Allen found his father's body hours later, when he returned from a dance.

No suspects in Louis Allen's murder were never identified, but Robert Moses placed partial blame for the slaying on the FBI's doorstep. Moses and other activists believed that G-men routinely leaked the contents of confidential statements to local police in civil rights cases, thus leaving witnesses vulnerable to attack by racist authorities or the vigilante Ku Klux Klan. The segregationist McComb Enterprise-Journal theory in its description of the murder, noting that 'Strictly non-documented rumours have been current that Allen may have become a 'tip-off man' for the integration-minded Justice Department. Similarly, of the spearheads of a reported complaint that 'economic pressure' being applied against some Amite County Negroes.'

#Allen Louis - murder victim (1964) #Amite County #very controversial #racism #racist #very difficult to post #True crime #true murder #true crime community #true crime blog #true crime post #unsolved crime #unsolved murder #The Chronicles of True Crime #tcc #tcc crime #tcc blog #tcc blogger #tcc author

[loove-persevering]

Fast Cars (Steve Harrington x reader! Blurb)

Description: Reader gets in a car accident resulting from Billy speeding and all she wants is Steve to come see her at the hospital! (A/N: I know this doesn’t go much with season 3 but we shall just pretend!) 

I sat in the hospital bed looking down at the cast that was being wrapped around my arm, my mom was sitting off to the side on the phone with the insurance company no doubt demanding Billy’s insurance pay for my injury since it was his fault. I was driving home the mall after visiting Steve at work for his break and in general I just sat there to talk with him since he wasn’t busy, but on the way home Billy Hargrove happened to be coming down the road the opposite direction. He was racing down the road as usual carelessly and somehow lost control of the car slamming into the back rear tire of yours causing your car to go off road and spin until it eventually rolled over once resulting in you breaking your arm and having some minor lacerations on your face.  

‘’Mom?’’ You ask wanting to have someone to talk to and help keep you distracted from the pain and throbbing in your arm. ‘’Mom?’’ You call out again and she glance over at you holding her finger up to you as she holds onto the cord with the other hand. You sigh falling back down in the bed waiting for her to be done, after a few minutes she gets off the phone looking at you with sorrow.  

‘’I think I’m going to go have to get a lawyer,’’ She says simply making your mouth open slightly, ‘’I’m sorry honey the hospital is trying to have me pay and we can’t afford it, I have to plus that ass-’’ She begins to explain but you wave her off, ‘’I’ll be back, you’ll be okay right?’’ She asks and even though you hated to be left alone you give her a soft smile encouraging her to go.  

You close your eyes resting for a little while and then finally a nurse comes back in waking you up, ‘’Hi Hon, I’m Sue! How’s the pain?’’ She asks you walking over to you leaning against your bed slightly.  

‘’Uh,’’ You pause, ‘’My arm really hurts and so does my head a bit,’’ You explain to her and she nods at you sympathetically.  

‘’Okay we’ll get some meds for you then!’’ She says eagerly giving you an encouraging smile making her way across the room.  

‘’Hey!’’ You call out causing her to turn around raising her eyebrow at you, ‘’Would you mind moving the phone over here?’’ You ask her. ‘’I have to call someone!’’ You tell her and she smiles at you walking over and grabbing the phone then handing it back to you. ‘’Thanks!’’ You tell her graciously. You dial the familiar number of Scoops Ahoy! And wait for someone to answer, you always called Steve at work and while sometimes he was too busy to talk you hoped now he wouldn’t be.  

‘’Ahoy, Captain Steve speaking!’’ You hear his familiar goofy voice through the phone causing you to laugh.  

‘’You’re such a dork,’’ You say laughing.  

‘’No I’m not! It’s company policy to answer like that!’’ He argues back.  

‘’I thought you said screw company policy?’’ You ask him knowing he said exactly that at one point when they told him to wear a hat.  

‘’I said no such thing,’’ Steve says trying to sound professional, ‘’How was dinner?’’ He asks.  

‘’Yeahhhhh,’’ You say dragging it out. ‘’About that,’’ You say letting out a nervous laught.  

‘’What?’’ He asks.

‘’Well I’m at the hospital actually-’’ You begin to say but he cuts you off.  

‘’You’re at the hospital?’’ He asks sounding shocked but also worried, ‘’What the hell happened?’’ He asks.  

‘’I got in a car accident,’’ You tell him, ‘’It wasn’t my fault though, and I would’ve called you sooner but my mom was on the phone with the insurance and so the phone was occupied,’’ You admit to him. ‘’And she just left a while ago so I had the nurse let me use the phone,’’ You tell him.

‘’A car accident?’’ He questions. ‘’Are you okay?’’ He now says sounding concerned.  

‘’I’m fine now! I broke my arm, so I got a cool cast and I’ll let the kids sign it so it won’t look so dull,’’ You say hearing Steve let out a laugh from the other end. ‘’But just a few scrapes other than that I’m still all in one piece!’’ You tell him.  

‘’Thank God,’’ You hear him sigh in relief. ‘’Who’s the dipshit that caused it?’’ He asks. You hesitated to tell him because you knew as soon as he heard he was going to lose his shit. ‘’Y/N,’’ He says warily, he knew you too well.  

‘’Okay well, it was Billy Hargrove,’’ You say cringing as soon as the words leave your mouth.  

‘’I swear I’m gonna kick his ass!’’ You hear Steve yell. Yup, this is the reaction you expected. ‘’I swear I’m going to kill him-How fast was he going?- Is he at the hospital too?’’ Steve says spitting one question after another.  

‘’Steve,’’ You try to interrupt him but he continues to ramble, ‘’Steve!’’ You yell a bit louder and he goes quiet. ‘’I’m okay, I’ll be out of the hospital tomorrow!’’ You tell him. ‘’I’m just waiting on my mom to get back.’’  

You heard Steve sigh and you could picture him leaning his hand against the wall as he held onto the phone with his other hand, ‘’He could’ve really hurt you Y/N,’’ Steve says softy. ‘’What if it would’ve been worse?’’ He asks sounding like he was about to cry.  

‘’It wasn’t,’’ You tell him. ‘’I will be okay, but right now I just want my boyfriend to come cuddle with me in this not big enough bed.’’ You say a smile echoing on you face, ‘’If you can, I know you’re working.’’ You say.

‘’No, no, no of course I’ll come.’’ He rushes out. ‘’I’ll just have to tell Robin to close up, I’ll be there as soon as I can alright?’’ He tells you.  

‘’Alright,’’ You say feeling happy knowing you would have him here.  

‘’Y/N?’’ You hear him asking. You hum in response, ‘’I love you.’’ He says.  

You smile knowing that he was still probably worried about you, ‘’I love you more Steve,’’ You tell him. ‘’Just take your time okay?’’ You tell him and wish each other a short goodbye.  

An hour later Steve still wasn’t there which you didn’t mind, you didn’t want him to rush and end up having an accident of his own. You just patiently read the magazine next to your bed as you waited flipping through it absentmindedly. You hear a knock on the door showing someone was here and you look up to find Billy Hargrove standing at the entrance of the door, ‘’Y/L/N,’’ He says to you.  

‘’I still have one good hand Hargrove and I am not afraid to use it,’’ You say rolling your eyes closing the magazine in your lap. ‘’What do you want?’’ You ask him.  

‘’I wanted to apologize,’’ He says simply. Your eyes widen in shock, an apology from the Billy Hargrove? Who knew! He stands there awkwardly his hands together behind his back and you knew this was a very rare occasion for him.  

‘’You don’t apologize much do you?’’ You say laughing causing him to perk up slightly. ‘’Well, turns out I’m a very forgiving person,’’ You pause. ‘’Lucky you.’’ You say and that causes a slight smile on his face. ‘’So I do forgive you but I have to ask a favor in return,’’ You tell him and he looks at you confused.  

‘’A favor?’’ He asks sounding slightly annoyed.

‘’A favor yes,’’ You tell him. ‘’While this could’ve been much worse,’’ You say gesturing to your arm in the cast lifting it up slightly. ‘’It wasn’t but that doesn’t mean that next time it won’t be, and next time it might be a kid or something.’’ You point out. ‘’So just watch it okay?’’ You ask him. ‘’That’s my only request,’’ You say after he doesn’t answer for a few seconds.  

‘’I can do that I guess,’’ He says making your raise your eyebrow in question, ‘’I can do that.’’ He says which sounded much more confident. You smile pleased that he agreed and he smiles back at you light heartedly.  

‘’What the hell do you think you’re doing here?’’ You hear the familiar voice call out his voice laced with anger. Steve appears at the door a teddy bear with a balloon attached to it in one hand and a your favorite candy in the other. ‘’Haven’t you done enough?’’ He asks.  

‘’Steve,’’ You call out to him wanting him to calm down a bit, you could understand why he was mad but you did not want to see another fight between the two. ‘’Steve!’’ You yell waiving your cast up in the air as he glared at Billy trying to gain his attention, ‘’Babe,’’ You call out making him turn his head away from Billy to you, ‘’He just came by to apologize,’’ You tell him.  

‘’Apologize?’’ He asks and the expression on his face said it all, he couldn’t believe the words. You nod your head and he glances back at Billy.  

‘’I should go,’’ Billy says awkwardly. He looks away from Steve and over to you, ‘’I’ll see you around Y/N,’’ He says simply.  

‘’Like hell you will,’’ Steve says.  

‘’Steve,’’ You sigh making him turn to you giving you a confused and innocent look. ‘’Remember our deal Hargrove,’’ You say pointing at him and he nods glancing one more time at Steve who looked probably the least intimidating you’d ever seen him with the bear and the balloon. He walks out the door and Steve watches him as he leaves giving you a weird look.  

‘’What deal?’’ He asks coming over closer to your bed.  

‘’Just a little condition for him,’’ You say simply. ‘’Is that for me?’’ You ask and he smiles handing you the bear, you pull it into your chest hugging it tightly setting your chin on its head. ‘’Thank you,’’ You say smiling at him and he just gives a goofy smile back. You move over slightly in the small hospital bed and pat down at the available spot for him to sit with you.  

‘’Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you?’’ He asks cautiously sitting down just barely on the edge.  

‘’Just shut up and get in bed with me!’’ You tell him.  

‘’Well I can’t say no to that can I?’’ He asks a flirtatious smile across his face as he moves further into the bed wrapping his arm around your shoulder and you sink into his chest. ‘’Feel any better?’’ He asks as you lift your hand to grab his that was draped over your shoulder.  

‘’I do now,’’ You say leaning your head against his chest and closing your eyes.

_________________

‘’Disgusting,’’ You hear a voice say aloud. You peel your eyes open noticing Dustin, Mike, Will, Lucas, El, and Max all standing at the edge of the bed.  You felt your cheeks heat up and you move yourself up causing the grip against your torso to tighten, you look over noticing Steve was still asleep next to you and you smile.  

You touch his shoulder gently shaking him and he groans in response, you look back at the kids who were all laughing at how much of a baby Steve probably looked like. ‘’Steve,’’ You say pushing him. ‘’Stevey,’’ You say in your baby voice causing for more laughter. Steve opens his eyes slightly looking around the room his eyes widening a bit when he notices the company, ‘’Did you call them?’’ You ask him.  

‘’He called me,’’ Dustin says, ‘’Then I kind of called everyone else.’’ He says and you smile at him.  

‘’Did you all bike here?’’ You ask and they all nod, ‘’You guys didn’t have to do that!’’ You say clutching your good hand over your chest.  

Steve pushes himself up further stretching and then rubbing his eyes, ‘’I knew you’d guys would come eventually,’’ He points out.  

‘’Are you gonna let us sign your cast?’’ You hear Dustin asks and you nod eagerly. ‘’I want first dibs,’’ He says and you laugh nodding at him.  

‘’You got it,’’ You tell him, ‘’Go find a sharpie,’’ You say to nobody in general but Mike leaves dragging El with him and they come back a few moments later a sharpie in hand. You smile as Dustin walks over and signs his name and one after another everyone else does as well, after everybody’s gone you hand over the marker to Steve who smiles at you mischievously. ‘’Do not write anything inappropriate!’’ You tell him laughing.  

You wait a few moments looking at everyone as Steve writes on your cast letting out a laugh and everyone else finds a spot to sit in the room. Although your mom left you alone it was days like this that you knew that no matter what you would never be actually alone. That you had not only Steve but a whole parade of people who cared about you and that was the best feeling in the world.  

#steve harrington #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington angst #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things show #eleven #mike wheeler #dustin henderson #Lucas Sinclair #erica sinclair #Billy Hargrove #billy hargove x reader #billy stranger things