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sunflowerharrington · 2 years

Note

can i request eddie with a bookworm-ish shy reader? If u need a prompt: “your always reading, i just never thought you felt this way…”

you can take full creative control! I don’t really care i just wanna read about our kings <////3

This bud of love by summer’s ripening breath, may prove a beauteous flower when next we meet

pairing - Eddie Munson X GN!Hargrove!Reader (with hair long enough to tuck behind your ear)

summary - Resident bookworm, Y/N Hargrove, is always too caught up in a book to face their feelings for the local metalhead “freak”, until now...

notes - *still refusing to believe volume two happened* I tried giving Y/N a Shakespearean vibe, I know it’s a stereotype but also if you wanna be rude to me the block button is available. And reader is a Hargrove because I wanted to give them a stark contrast to Billy.

I hope you enjoy, Nonnie, and I’m SO sorry for taking this long to get this out! title is a quote from Act 2 Scene 1 of William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. Enjoy!

warnings - Other than a mention of Billy Hargrove’s tragic death, this is pure fluff :)

word count -

taglist - @quickiesgirl @sunnymunson @sympathyforher @langdon-cumslut @in-love-with-will-byers @wzrlds @taecube @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul dm, comment or ask me to be added or taken off for all future updates (bar ‘stitches’ and ‘call it what you want’ they will have their own taglists)

back to my stranger things masterlist

You nervously awaited your fate as you read through the brittle pages of your novel adaptation of William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. Reading about the beautiful women and handsome men that danced the night away at masquerade balls. And reading the wonderful story about how Juliet met her Romeo as an escape from the reality that your family had been falling apart ever since that unfortunate day. July 4th 1985.

And you wished you could meet your ultimate life partner, your rock, your soulmate, somebody who could protect you from the big bad dragon that had been terrorizing your family since you and your late twin brother were born. That dragon being your father.

However, today was your chance to show your friends that you should be taken seriously, that you’re not just the girl sitting in the corner with her nose in an Oscar Wilde novel or reading melodic poetry. You would rather be known as the sister of the boy that sacrificed himself to save an entire town than that.

You stood in front of the library, anticipation coasting through your veins like waves of the ocean, a feeling of trepidation as you clasped the door handle in your grip. Should you knock?

Of course not! You’re in school!

The people in the library had been warm, inviting towards you; Nancy, studious and confident, Robin; sweet and a little wild, Dustin; courageous and kind, and Mike; reserved, and a little mean. But you would be too if your best friend almost died a more tragic death than Desdemona.

But you were looking for your knight in shining armour, and you got him; in the form of a senior in all denim and a leather jacket, chains hanging every which way, and wild, fluffy hair. And you knew you were destined to be the best of friends the moment you exchanged pleasantries.

Which is why, when you had your nose stuck in Les Mis, you didn’t notice the gaze on you. All through senior year, and it was on the last day of school before graduation when you finally noticed it. O, my dear Aphrodite, my sincerest thank you’s for my wishes coming true.

Your knight had come to sweep you off your feet, lifting you up in his strong arms, looking at you like you were his heart’s only desire. After everyone had been seated, you stood before them to give your graduation speech, and like a flower blooming in a row of bushes, a rose between many thorns, waiting to be plucked by you, was Edward Munson. Your knight. Your Mr. Darcy to Elizabeth. Your saviour from the dragon.

You smiled coyly as you spoke, your eyes selecting their place to gaze carefully, and he smiled back at you. And he cheered the loudest out of everyone when your speech had come to an end.

Your loins burned with desire as the graduation ceremony came to an end, jumping in the air when Mademoiselle Joyce Byers asked you, your knight and the two princesses, Buckley and Wheeler, to jump into the air and she snapped a photo of you with Prince Jonathan’s camera. You bit your lip in focus, and a bad habit, as Eddie wrapped his strong arms around you, engulfing you in the fabric of his blue graduation gown.

Eddie. Beautiful, handsome Edward. Your perfect man had been plucked from the pages of your novel and dropped into Hawkins 20 years ago, and it was only now that the universe had let you get a crystal clear look at him.

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as he pulled away, pressing a kiss of adoration to the centre of your forehead like they do in movies and books. “Told you this year was my year, Hargrove.”

The man standing before you would love you with the passion of Rhett, and would be as devoted to you as Heathcliff to Kathy, and would obsess over you more than Michael Wheeler was over William Byers. You would be Eddie’s. Forever and ever, you decided.

His big brown eyes sparkled in the bright sunlight that beamed down on the school grounds.

“Eddie, I…” You blurted out. Now what in great heavens were you going to say after that? You didn’t know.

You clutched his waist, and he gifted your forehead with another soft kiss while you both twirled around, his hands on your waist. “We did it! We graduated, Hargrove!”

The smile on his face had been nothing you’d seen before, never seeing him this ecstatic in your two years of knowing him. “Only took you two years, Munson.”

“Hey!” He laughed, and oh what a sound for sore ears. “I was trying!”

“What happened to you flipping Higgins the bird? And what happened to you taking my hand and running out of here and never looking back?”

“We can still do that,” he said, and in an instant you were thrown over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift, and he carried you down the aisle.

If only you were donning a wedding dress at that moment.

“Everything okay, sweetheart?” He asked, noticing your discomfort when he put you down outside the school grounds, taking your hand in his.

“I feel like today I was forced to confront some hidden… feelings…” you trailed off.

He took your chin in two of his fingers and slowly forced you to look him dead in the eye, his long, pretty eyelashes fluttering as he blinked.

“Hidden feelings? You don’t… You don’t like me, do you? Like… Uh… Do you like me?”

“Yes, and I have for a long time now. Since that day in the library when you came in to ask Mike about Lucas’ whereabouts as the basketball championship had started.”

He blinked at you, stunned. How could such a beautiful girl like the freak of Hawkins? Well, you know what they say; Never judge a book by its cover.

“You’re always reading! I never thought you would feel this way… Too busy falling in love with the characters in your books. And why would you like me like that anyways? You don’t— You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“I’m not! I love you, Edward Munson!”

“What? But why would you ever—“ He began, but you cut him off, coiling your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you as your lips met his in a deep kiss.

As he spun you around, you blocked out the sounds of the kids’ fake gagging, and you could feel Robin and Steve smiling like proud workers for Murray “Cupid” Bauman.

Butterflies kissed the inside of your stomach as Eddie tucked a wayward strand of your hair behind your ear, leaning back in to pepper your face with soft, sweet kisses.

“I” kiss “love” kiss “you” kiss “too” kiss “,Hargrove.”

Kiss.

#stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #billy hargrove #eddie munson x hargrove!reader #hargrove!reader #fanfic #fluff #graduation au #eddie gets the graduation he deserves #my love for shakespeare’s work shows here lol #i described mike as being mean because he kind of is to people who aren’t his friends anyways sooo #murray plays cupid again with the help of mom and our wine aunt robin #i gave this an old romance novel vibe while trying to keep it 80’s #i don’t think it worked but let’s pretend it did #eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson imagine

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sadhours · 1 year

Text

READING FOR PLEASURE

billy hargrove x f!reader

a/n: this was inspired by @billyhargrovetitties story Cruel Summer, if you haven’t read it… you must. I am obsessed with it.

summary: billy finds your romance novel and teases you about it

warnings; 18+ minors dni, pure smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, billy doesn’t pull out and he panics, oops 🙊

When you return to your bedroom, Billy’s laid out on the bed, on his stomach and propping his head up with his elbow. It’s a cute sight, makes your stomach flip and fill with butterflies as a dirty blonde curl falls in the center of his forehead. You smile warmly and then glance down to see he’s got the romance novel you’d hidden in your bedside table spread out before him and he’s reading it with this all too satisfied grin on his face. When he gazes towards you, the grin meets his eyes, crinkling them up.

“Found your porn stash,” he teases, closing the cover but keeping his fingers tucked into the page he was on. “A Gentle Feuding,” he reads the title out loud with this exaggerated wistfulness to his voice and you know your face is all kinds of shades of crimson. You hope Billy hadn’t noticed the man portrayed on the cover somewhat resembles him, blonde and tan, and that’s why you’d picked the novel in the first place.

“It’s historical,” you lamely reason, lunging forward to grab the book from him but Billy’s reflexes are as quick as a cats. He pulls it out of your fingertips and you attempt to snatch it again, but he pulls it back and you go toppling over him. Billy uses the leverage to flip the both of you over and he’s straddling your waist, holding the book over his head when you reach towards it.

“Historical filth,” he counters, cheeks a little flush from the shuffle of your bodies but that grin permanently smeared on his face.

“Billy,” you whine, “Give it here. It’s embarrassing…”

As you raise your hands to grab it again, Billy grabs your wrists with his right hand and holds them down against your chest. Your whole body feels tight with humiliation and you choke back the tears forming in your eyes. God, you could be such a baby sometimes.

That’s why Billy liked you, though. You acted like such a good girl all the time, he was relieved to find the raunchy book because it let him know that deep down, you were a little vixen and his attempts to draw it out of you had been mostly failures. You two had already slept together, just one time and whenever it came to fooling around, you were so shy.

“This thing is worn,” he comments, looking over the novel in his hand, “How many times have you read it?”

“None of your beeswax,” you huff, “Give it here, Billy. Seriously!”

As you plead, you squirm under his grip, trying to get your arms free so you can rip the book from his hand and maybe destroy it. You haven’t decided, you’re so incredibly embarrassed but it is one of your favorites.

Billy tilts his head ever so slightly, “Should I read some of it to you?”

“No!” you shriek, eyes widening up at him but a part of you is very intrigued. Billy’s voice is like honey, the timbre of it is deliciously low like it comes deep from his throat. You’re suddenly very interested in hearing him read it out loud but you’re still full of shame that he’s found the book. Your hiding place wasn’t very good but enough that your parents or siblings hadn’t found it. Of course, Billy is far snoopier than they are and you should’ve anticipated that when you went to pee, he would be going through your things.

Billy places the book down and moves your wrists to your sides, adjusting his legs so he can pin your arms underneath them. He smiles at you, retrieving the book again and flipping to the first page he’s dog-eared.

“Ya know, there’s a lot of like, bullshit in this book,” he muses, “They don’t even fuck until like almost the end of the book. And then after that it’s like more blah blah blah—“

“It’s called plot,” you argue, voice shakier than you meant for.

The blonde snorts, peering down at you, “I can get you some magazines, ya know? You don’t have to do any reading to get to the good part.”

“I don’t read it for the…” you can’t bring yourself to say the word.

“The filth? Really?” he hums, “I find that hard to believe.”

“It’s true,” you lie, wriggling beneath him.

Billy licks his lips, “Let’s see… oh, here’s where it starts getting good; ‘His hand goes somewhere unexpected. Lydia’s eyes widen as the duke’s warm, strong hand smoothes up her milky, white thighs.’.”

“Billy,” you warn, eyebrows knitting closer. It’s as sexy as you imagined but you didn’t entirely anticipate Billy would be so good at reading aloud, it’s almost like he’s practiced with it. He doesn’t stumble over any of the words like you do when you have to read aloud in class.

“Shh,” he shushes you around a smug smirk, “‘Her liquid desire seeps out as he ruffles her petticoat up to her waistline,’ Liquid desire. I like that. Clever way to say she’s wet.”

“Stop!” you protest but the words are purging your own ‘liquid desire’ and you’d rather Billy not have the satisfaction.

“Spicy stuff here. But then the dude only fingers her,” Billy complains with a disappointed frown and flips to the second page he’s dog-eared. “Ah, here we go, I really love this line: ‘Lydia writhes against Arthur but her body freezes as she feels his hardened cock pressed against her stomach.’” He lets out a short laugh, “They actually wrote cock. That’s hilarious.”

You raise an eyebrow, “What word would you use?”

“Cock, definitely, but it’s not a classy word. I thought they’d say like penis or something,” he retorts, biting his lip as he looks to your flushed face.

“Penis isn’t a sexy word,” you argue and feel yourself squirm against him, not because you want him to stop but you want to keep him under the impression you do.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Billy agrees and then asks, “Cock turns you on, though?”

Billy’s sorely mistaken if he thinks you’ll admit to that, no matter how true it is. You shoot him an annoyed look and he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He always does that so loud, you’re left impressed each time. You’d tried to do it as loud as he does on nights when you’re bored and alone but it’s never quite as good.

“Lemme see…” his eyes scan the worn pages, “Ooh, this I like: ‘She gyrated the softest part of her against the hardest of him.’”

You also liked that line, it made you think of Billy every time you read it.

“Also, do these chicks ever write about small dicks? They’ve mentioned how huge this duke is like twelve times,” he wonders aloud, lifting the book so he can look down at you.

“Sympathetic?” you bite back, wanting to tease Billy for how he’s teasing you.

“Oh, honey,” he chuckles, “you and I both know damn well I ain’t small.”

“Then they’re representing you,” you point out with a wavering smile.

Billy tsks, and then lets out a giggle, thumbing through the pages again. As he finds a particularly dirty passage and begins reading it, you can see his pants tightening over his crotch. You raise an eyebrow, flicking your eyes back up to his face but Billy is too distracted by the words he’s reading to notice.

“Well, well, well,” you say in a teasing tone.

He averts his eyes, seeing that his hard-on is pretty damn obvious in his jeans and you’ve got the perfect view of it. He actually blushes, the reddening hiding his freckles and he closes the book, tossing it behind him as he gazes down at you with his nose scrunched up.

“What?”

“You seem to like it, Billy,” you purr, not trying to suppress the giggle rising from your throat.

“Shut up,” he grumbles, scooting back and releasing your arms. They’ve kind of gone numb from the position under his legs but you don’t mind, you enjoyed every second of it. “If I reach in your pants, you’re gonna be just as obnoxiously turned on.”

“I’m the one who owns the book, Billy,” you challenge with a pleased smirk.

“So you admit it then, you read it for the filth,” he quips.

“I’ll admit that if you admit it gave you a boner.”

“I think that’s pretty obvious,” he mumbles, positioning himself between your legs and hooking his fingers into the elastic band of your sweats. He pulls them down and you lift your legs to help expel them. Billy tosses them to the floor and spreads your thighs, biting his lip as he brushes his knuckles against your clothed heat. A raspy moan is ripped from you, back arching as his knuckle brushes against your aching clit.

“Oh, Billy…”

“I can just see that ‘liquid desire’ soaking through your panties,” he muses, voice rough but the term brings a laugh from the both of you. It also makes you that much wetter.

“Oh my god,” you mutter through the laugh, “You’re never gonna let that go.”

Billy hums, pushing his nose against where his knuckles just were, “Don’t think you really want me to.” His breath tickles the skin where your thigh meets your pelvis and you inhale sharply. Your thighs tingle, heat rising up them and it’s almost overwhelming. Then you feel Billy’s stubble against the flesh of your thigh and his teeth follow, biting at your skin lightly. Your body jolts at the touch and your thighs open even wider, urging Billy to return his movements to where you want him most. His lips curl up as he rests his cheek against your inner thigh, eyes peering up at you. His pupils are so dilated, you can barely see the ocean blue around them.

“I want you,” he admits, smoothing his palm over your core and resting his fingertips against your pubic bone.

The admission draws a deep moan from you because he looks so adorable between your legs but the palm on you and the words make you desire him so deeply it almost hurts. Billy wants you. The idea itself makes your thighs tremble and your hands shoot down to rake your fingers through his dirty blonde curls.

“You have me,” you breathe but wonder how you look at his perspective and it forces you to prop yourself up on your elbows, wanting to look as pretty for him as possible.

“Can I have you?” he asks, pushing his palm harder against your center.

“Yes, Billy,” you pant out.

He sits back up, peeling your underwear off of you and then settling back down between your legs. He kisses tenderly at your thighs, brushing the tip of his finger against your dripping hole. The noise that pushes from your lips is desperate yet a thankful noise, you’ve been wanting Billy to touch you like this since he straddled you earlier. He makes a surprised but happy sound in return, swiping his tongue against your labia experimentally. The warm, wetness of it is welcomed while it’s not distinctly pleasurable, it feels really nice. His single digit penetrates you slowly while he continues to lick your pussy lips. It’s excruciating, but you know he’s doing it with purpose. The first time Billy had touched you intimately, he done the same. Teasing you with touches that were close to where you wanted but not quite there. You’d come to learn that Billy wanted you to plead and beg for him. Which you weren’t exactly confident doing yet. You still felt reserved and a little shame in asking for what you wanted. That’s presumably what got your boyfriend off: pushing you out of your comfort zone and breaking down those societal expectations.

“Billy,” you whine out, tugging at his curls.

“What?” he asks like he knows exactly what you want, a smile present in his voice.

You flush, you weren’t going to get the relief unless you explicitly requested it. You knew this and it makes your throat tighten and your mouth feel dry, tongue heavy in your mouth. You chew on your lower lip as you muster up the courage to put your desire into words.

“Not enough,” you whisper, timidly, “I want more.”

“More?” he pouts up at you, “Tell me what more means.”

“Lick…” you flush, closing your eyes as you try to gain the confidence.

“Lick what?”

“My pussy,” you breathe out, pulling his hair gently.

“I am,” he smirks, “You want me to lick here?” He presses the tip of his tongue to your clit and your head falls back against the mattress,

“Yes!”

He hums and then flicks his tongue against the sensitive bud, the fingers of his left hand digging into your thigh. It’s warm and oh so wonderful as he puts his mouth entirely on you, licking through your folds before focusing on your clit and lapping against it, nose brushing against the curls above your center. You bite down on your lip hard enough to draw blood. The two of you are completely alone for at least another few hours but you’re accustomed to keeping quiet, trying to keep your pants and moans of pleasure at a reasonable volume. Billy’s tongue proves to make it difficult. It’s just as fit as the rest of his body.

“Lemme,” he grunts as he pulls away, pushing your top up your chest and he exhales when your chest is exposed. You’d intentionally skipped putting your bra on today, knowing Billy was coming over. He palms at your breasts, squeezing gently as he moves up to suck hour nipple into his mouth. It feels amazing, not nearly as great as his mouth on your pussy but this is a little more intimate. You can see him better up here, how pink and plump his lips are and the way his eyelashes curl. Billy is single handedly the most attractive person you’ve laid eyes on and here he is, mouthing at your chest.

“Baby…” you whimper as he adds a second finger inside of you.

It’s all a little overwhelming but feels too damn good to stop. You’re in too deep, you’d follow Billy like a lamb to slaughter. As his fingers curl up and drag against your spongy spot, you cry out. You don’t know how much more you can take, suddenly desperate to feel his cock filling you up and stretching you out in the most beautiful way. It’ll be your second time of what you hope to be a life full of.

“Want—“ you gasp, grabbing onto his sleeve. “Want you so bad, Billy.”

He smirks up at you before sitting back on his heels. He pulls his Henley over his head and placing it next to your body. You reach out and feel the contours of his muscular pecs, brushing the pads of your fingertips against his stiff nipple. He’s like one of those Greek statues, sculpted beautifully but unlike the marble, his skin is so soft. He bites the side of his lower lip as he smiles, his eyes squinting with the expression. He’s so damn beautiful, your heart swells.

“You’re…” the compliment dies on your tongue as you suddenly feel demure.

“I’m what?” he breathes, anticipation present in his drawl.

“Everything,” you admit, bashfully.

You think you see him blush, you can’t be sure because Billy’s leaning down to kiss you. It’s a dizzying kiss, you rock your hips up with it as he pulls desire out of you. You meant it, he’s everything to you, everything for you. He’s it for you and if he’s not, there’s gonna be a helluva heartbreak. No one has been so easy to be around. Billy’s like your best friend, he makes you laugh and cry and cum. What the hell else do you ever need besides this man above you?

“Fuck,” he curses, hand on your shoulder as he pulls away, “My dicks so fucking hard it hurts.”

The complaint is nothing but a masked compliment. You widen your legs, moving your hands down to his hips so you can grind up against his clothed erection. “Need you,” you inform him breathlessly.

“You have me,” he smirks, smoothing his thumb against your cheekbone. “Can I fuck you?”

You know he asks because it’s only the second time it’s happening, or could be. You decided long ago that you wanted it, but he doesn’t know that.

“Need you to,” you counter, the walls breaking down slowly. Billy is good at urging the desperation out of you. You're sure he could persuade you into murder, or something nearly as awful.

Billy grunts, pulling away long enough to rid himself of his jeans and boxers. His cock sprouts up and slaps against his abs, angrily hard and you notice his tip is leaking more than you’ve seen before. Your mouth waters at the sight but you’re too eager to blow him. You’re clenching simply at the sight and promise of him burying his cock inside your fluttering cunt. Billy crashes his lips against yours, the shaft of his cock rubs against your soaking pussy and it draws a mutual groan from the two of you. Perhaps you can write a letter to the author of the novel, express your gratitude for it being the source of this very charged moment between you and your stunning boyfriend. You even consider writing your own spicy story about him, he’s damn good inspiration. If you ever write a memoir, you hope and pray that Billy is a lasting role in it.

“Billy,” you plead against his bruising lips.

He grabs your jaw with his left hand while he grabs a hold of his cock with his right, hissing as he runs his tip through your folds. Your body shakes under his touch, hips rocking up ruthlessly from the electricity his movements bring. The romance you read is exciting but can’t compare to his in any way. You’d much rather have him in your bed every night instead of reading until you can’t handle it and hump against your pillow in search of relief. This is tenfold better.

“That feel good?” he inquires, voice hoarse. “You’re so fucking wet.”

He says the last bit like he can’t believe it and you reel from it, reveling in the fact that you can turn Billy on just by reacting to him naturally. The carnal desire in you evaporates every wall you’ve ever built up. There’s no shame left in you as you tell him, “S’all cause of you…”

“Yeah? Am I better than the book?” he asks, circling his tip against the rim of your aching entrance.

“Picture you when I’m reading it,” you pant out the confession, eyes falling shut as his hips jerk forward from your words, his tip penetrating you in an easy, fluid motion.

“Touch yourself at the thought of me?” his voice is so hoarse and the sound of it has you clenching around him. He obviously notices it but the whine that pushes passed his lips.

“Always…”

“Fuck,” he exhales, slipping deeper inside your tight cunt. His girth is a shock, but a good one. It’s only the second time. Your fingers and also his, don’t compare. But you’re thoroughly aroused and you swallow his length easily. The burn is dull and adds to the pleasure. He continues, “That’s so fucking hot.”

His face in contorted in concentration and arousal, “The thought of you fingering this tight pussy—“ he grunts, “Thinking about me fucking you.”

“This is better,” you moan, grabbing onto his bicep as he bottoms out, balls warm against your skin.

“I think about you too,” he says between clenched teeth, “When I jerk off…”

It makes your head feel heavy, you’re totally honored. The image of Billy in his bed, pulling at his cock while your name tumbles from his lips makes your hips rock forward repeatedly. He makes a whiny noise and your eyes open, wanting to see it happen again. He’s a goddamn vision, sweating above you with curls sticking to his forehead. Goddamn, he’s so intoxicatingly sexy. Sometimes you get this overwhelming urge to grab onto his face and you indulge in it now, hands pressed against his each side of his head while he pounds into you. His eyes are intense as he stares back at you, these delicious little grunts and moans leaving his lips. The room is spinning, Billy’s eyes are so consuming it feels like he’s devouring you. You’re entranced, bodies writhing against each other while you both chase a high only the other can guarantee.

“Billy—“ you choke out, “I’m.. I’m gonna…”

You can’t finish the thought as he drills into you, his hands grabbing your hips and angling them up so he drives against your g-spot with every thrust.

“Cum?” he offers, voice throaty and hoarse. “You gonna cum for me, babygirl?”

“Ahh…” you try to tell him yes but the waves of the orgasm make it impossible as it thrashes through you, your ankles crossing behind his back as he pounds into you.

The pistons of his hips are unrelenting, you’d be impressed with his stamina if you weren’t being dragged through the most demanding orgasm you’ve ever had. You’re loud, the sound of your voice is foreign, rough and guttural. Billy seems to like it, his eyebrows rising before furrowing as he pins your hips against the mattress and bucks into you brutally. His face is scrunched up and these high pitched, pretty and desperate noises he makes are so wonderfully delicious. His movements freeze and you feel his warm completion fill you up.

“Billy…” you moan at the sensation, it’s unlike anything you’ve felt and he collapses on top of you, a panting mess as his lips find yours. The kisses are frantic and sloppy. You’re not even certain they could classify as kisses. Then his eyes are wide and he’s lifting himself up.

“Fuck, oh shit,” his voice is full of panic, “Oh, god, I’m sorry.”

You’re close to passing out, but you manage to ask, “For what?”

“I came inside you,” he explains, eyes wide.

“Mhm… felt so good,” you mumble, not able to care about his terror in the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“I didn’t mean to… fuck,” he breathes against your cheek, “Gonna have to.. get a plan B.”

“Billy,” you sigh happily as you wrap your arms around him, “Mmm… feels so good.”

He relaxes at the realization that you’re not pissed at him and for a second, he lets himself revels in the fact that he’s just cum inside you and how amazing it felt. He gasps softly, “So good…”

#billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove x f!reader #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x reader

4K notes · View notes

kisses4kaia · 4 months

Note

MORE BROTHERS BEST FRIEND BILLY THE KID I BEG OF YOU

GIBSON GIRL .ᐟ

pairing— brothersbestfriend!william h. bonney x fem!reader

warnings— smut, forbidden relationship, p in v, oral (m and f receiving) EVERYONE IS LEGAL!!

a/n— this took an absurd amount of time sorry! she’s here now tho so plz reblog if u enjoyed! (also not a part two to the first one 🤍)

“billy, make sure she’s safe while i’m gone, will you?” jesse asks his best friend in reference to you, his innocent, sweet, little sister. and naturally, without any hesitation, billy nods. “of course, always,”

there’s something about his tone when he says it, something that hints that his opinion of you isn’t entirely fraternal, but perhaps something more profound. jesse doesn’t catch onto that, though; never having been the brightest tool in the shed.

almost ignorantly, he just nods at billy in respectful acknowledgment, kisses you on the cheek, all before leaving the house, heading into town for whatever errands needed running, leaving you and billy alone for many unsupervised hours.

god, the tension between the pair of you was palpable—thicker than molasses and sweeter than it, too. to make matters worse for the outlaw, recently, you took up a new hobby—making billy squirm. making innuendos just barely passable as innocent banter, being on your best behavior and letting him know you were like this just for him, then going and turning it around completely, becoming a complete and total brat, not heeding to mind a single word he speaks.

and fuck, it was driving him insane. he felt so ashamed of himself on nights when all his mind could conjure up before bed was images of you—images the lord would frown upon sincerely—and end up with a cum-splotched torso and a still unsatiated cock. he hated you for it.

you, with your too-tight denim shorts in july, and with your ribbons in your pigtail plaits, and your sweet, soft, wickedly tantalizing, eyes and even more venomous voice. everything about you drove him mad, and it was the very nature of your relationship that irked him the most—because, he knew, as desperately as he wanted, he could not have you. you were his best friends little sister, for christ’s sake! it was never bound to end well for him. honestly, he felt like the fates had fucked him.

so now, when you are in your bed, reading a romance novel you’ve already read twice, something outside of your window catches your eye. billy is currently out on the farm with the horses, tending to them. not an uncommon sight, however since it’s august, and this is the midwest, and it is hot—almost naturally—billy has abandoned his linen, button-up, shirt and is wearing nothing but a dirt-stained wifebeater, his trousers, and gun holster—and of course, his cowboy hat. you bite your lip at the display, sure this must be a product of one of your many erotic dreams about your brothers best friend, but all of that is debunked when he looks up at you, his catching the way your bottom lip is folded behind your teeth and your lingering gaze is burning onto his toned arms—probably a result of workin so hard as a farmhand and cowboy his whole life, you reckon—and meeting your piercing gaze.

you decide to push yourself off of your pretty, bowed, sheets and make your way downstairs to the trouble that lies within the man you grew up right next to.

“you know, it’s rude to stare,” billy chimes while you sit on an old, rackety, rocking chair residing on the back porch of your house, watching billy on the ranch. “and you think i’m above being rude?” you cock your head slightly, almost challenging him but not quite. he rolls his eyes, obviously wanting to snap back but can’t find it in him, not when you’re looking at him like that.

soon, he’s done with the work needed to have been done (admittedly, he did make haste so as to keep you waiting on him), and he’s grabbing his shirt off the pole of the wooden fence that is caging the horses in, tying the sleeves around his waist. he doesn’t spare you a single glance as he walks into the home, but you know he’s silently beckoning you to trail after him—after all, you were only out here to ogle at him, weren’t you?

when you enter the threshold of your home, your eyes land upon billy, who is pouring himself a glass of cheap whiskey and plopping down onto your couch.

“c’mon, sit down,” billy offers, sweat on his brow as the brown liquor swirls around the crystal glass, his legs spread wide and his demeanor exuding assertiveness. “well, now don’t be silly, there’s no other seat,” you acknowledge the lack of another sofa in the cozy living room, and the one billy did sit on, was only big enough to seat one. “oh, that’s no problem, doll, just sit on my lap, hm?” he cocks his head at you, daring eyes telling you all you needed to know. your raise your eyebrows and smile. “are you sure that’s what you want me to do?” your voice is a single warning, and billy is clearly throwing all caution to the wind, because he laughs. “c’mon, baby, i’m a big boy, i know what i want,” you knew what his underlying message was and the implication urged you to begin walking towards the couch.

blue eyes bore into yours as you throw a leg on either side of his thighs, skirt splaying over the tops of your thighs. he downs all the liquor in the glass before placing it onto the small coffee table next to him, eyes never leaving yours. carefully, but not fearfully, he drags a finger from your calf all the way to your waist, before both of his large hands take a rest at your love handles. “careful, billy,” you say in a singsong voice, allowing your hips to slowly, very slowly, begin moving downwards unto billy’s crotch. your arms lazily wrap around his neck, forearms resting on his strong, broad, shoulders. he kisses his teeth, bringing his face closer to yours ever so slightly, whiskey breath fanning over your face, chest, décolletage. when his lips finally encase yours, there’s so much built-up tension flowing in the passionate manner in which he kisses you, his palms grip onto your hips possessively before pressing all over your back, grappling desperately to get his calloused hands everywhere on your body all at once. he felt like he was drowning in you, but he would never call for help, for he needed you this instant and there was nothing stopping him from having you right here, right now.

“get on your knees,” he grits through his teeth, lust seething through the low growl that is his voice. you hardly think twice before moving back onto the plywood floor, knees already taking splinters, but you didn’t care, not when billy was unbuckling his denim trousers and letting his cock spring free from the confines of his boxers.

billy revels in the wide-eyed expression on your face as you take in his size. his cock was beautiful—angry, red, and proud, tip leaking with precum, pretty veins running vertically along the length. you swallow your surprise and slowly, you wrap a soft hand around the base of his length, bringing your lips down to his tip and pressing teasing kisses on it. the man above you lets out a soft groan, relaxing his muscles and allowing a strong hand to run through your hair, not quite gathering it yet, but maintaining it out of your face.

after peppering gentle kisses all over his hard cock, you finally flatten your tongue against the underside of him, licking up to the tip. you wrap your lips around his achy head and take as much as you can of him into your mouth, warm throat tightening around him. it takes everything inside billy to not immediately start fucking your fragile face, and when your tear-pricked eyes met his darkened blue ones, he roughly pulls you off of him. he throws you onto your back on the couch, like you weigh no more than a feather, hikes up your skirt and pulls your pale, pink, cotton, panties to the side. as he begins sliding his cock between your puffy folds, his tip brushes against your sensitive bud, and you whine, needing him to quit dangling the carrot and fuck you already. at the pathetic sound, billy just coos, pressing a gentle, loving, kiss to your pouted lips, before slamming his cock into your unprepared, sopping, cunt. you cry out against his lips and as he begins rutting his hips against yours, he’s trying to find restraint. he knows you probably won’t be able to walk properly for a week if he keeps fucking you like this, but the pent up tension finally being released urges him to keep fucking you primally—and plus, you wanted this, didn’t you? with your teasing, and your fucking miniskirts, everything you did was a beg for billy to fuck you into your place, right?

even in his sex-crazed state, billy’s still a gentleman who’s concerned with your pleasure just as much as his, and uses one of the hands he had rested beside your head to draw fast circles on your clit, pulling the most melodic sounds from you. they pushed him closer and closer to the edge and before you both knew it, billy was pulling out of your cunt, making you whine at the empty feeling, stroking himself a few times before painting your abdomen in his seed.

when he came down from his high, billy dropped down to his knees before you, skipping all the teasing he wanted to do (he would, next time) and licked a fat stripe up your slit, stopping at your clit and sucking momentarily. the muscle continued to work at you, dipping and fucking into your achy hole, and within minutes, your orgasm had crashed into you like a powerful ocean tide, struck by poseidon himself. you cried out his name, explicit weaved between your moans. billy just rides you through it, strong hands holding your wildly bucking hips down as you spasmed through your release.

“good girl, such a good girl,” billy cooed, the praise making your face go warm, even after he saw the most intimate parts of you. you brush off the compliment, afraid your own voice would betray you and instead reply “i take it this won’t be the last time we do… this?” and billy just chuckles darkly, picking you up off the couch and sitting himself back down, placing you prettily on his lap. “no, sugar. after this, you’re mine. understand?”

#.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ 𝐤𝐚𝐢𝐚 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 !#kai's got mail <3📑#angelnon 🤍#𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.. ✮⋆˙ !#billy the kid smut #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid imagine #billy the kid #billy the kid 2022 #billy antrim #william h bonney smut #william bonney #william h bonney #william h bonney x reader #billy bonney x reader #tom blyth smut #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #tom blyth x you

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tomblythismyhusband · 4 months

Text

flowers [billy the kid x fem!reader]

[summary]: billy the kid x fem!reader | You and Billy enjoy a sunny afternoon out in the flower fields to get away from the pressures of life.

[warnings]: just fluff :)

[wc]: 890

[note]: little blurb i wrote so it’s kinda short, basically just imagining what it would be like to lay in a field with billy…. sigh….

Sun kissed and happy.

That’s all you were at this moment. Your body in the strong arms of your lover, Billy as you both sprawled out in a vast field of daisies. The warmth of the summer sun danced upon your skin as you laid on the soft grass.

Billy had taken you out early that morning to this little spot out on the prairie. “We won’t get caught here.” He had said with a smile. You trusted him.

Obviously, being romantically involved with an infamous outlaw had its down sides but Billy always made it up to you. Anytime that he could do something for you, he would. Whether it was leaving little gifts by your doorstep or sneaking you out of your Pa’s house, he always worked hardest to make you feel loved.

And now, laying in a field of smiling daisies, you felt at peace. You were often worried about Billy when he was away. At any time he could be caught, killed, or imprisoned, so moments like this - where you were safely in his arms - made you feel like you were in heaven.

You lazily tilted your head up to nuzzle against the crook of his neck. Laying next to him on the warm earth almost felt unreal, like a part of a romance novel you’ve read before.

“You smell good.” You hummed against his neck, taking in the scent of him. He smelled like campfire and whiskey, two things that shouldn’t smell as good as they did.

A laugh puffed out of Billy’s lips as he angled his head down to place his lips on your temple. His lips felt soft against your skin.

“I’m guessin’ you’ve missed me huh?” He said, his voice rough and ragged. You could feel his warm breath against your forehead making your cheeks heat.

You shifted your body so you laid on your side with your face over his as he stared up into the blue sky.

“Of course I’ve missed ya.” You said softly. You couldn’t help but smile down at him, your lashes fluttering over your eyes.

He reached a hand up to trace your cheek. You would never get bored of the feeling of his rough, calloused hands caressing your skin. It was comforting, his touch felt like home.

When Billy touched you, nothing else mattered, only him. Despite his rough exterior he was always soft with you, as if you were a delicate flower that could be crumpled easily.

You picked at the grass below you while you stared into his striking blue eyes.

“I can’t stand being away from you for too long darlin’” He whispered, also shifting his body so he was propped up on his side.

Billy’s eyes couldn’t help but follow the gentle swoop of your hips and waist waist as you laid there. God were you beautiful. Billy felt like the luckiest man in the world to be lounging here next to you.

He stared at you for a while, taking in all of your perfects. He loved the way your hair fell into place on your shoulders, the way your eyes sparkled in the sun, and especially the faint pink of your cheeks.

You felt his eyes on you and blushed. “What?”

Billy’s lips parted as if he was trying to find the words to say.

“You're just so… Beautiful.” He finally said, giving you a soft smile.

You couldn’t contain your joy as you swooped over to him to plant a kiss on his lips. Your arms found their place around his neck as he let out a muffled grunt.

Billy leaned into the kiss, pulling your body closer to his. He put his arms around your waist and moved you so laid on top of him. When you broke apart from the kiss you couldn’t look anywhere but him. You loved the faint freckles that dotted his face, the curls that softly sat on his brow. You loved all of him.

You spent the rest of the day in the flowery meadow, not having a care in the world. You sat and talked for hours about everything and nothing at all simultaneously. You liked the time away from the stress of the real world. You liked being able to live in your own fantasy, even if it was just for a day.

“I wish I could stay here forever.” You whispered to Billy, as your hands worked meticulously on crafting a crown of daisies. The sun was starting to set now, casting an orange glow across the meadow.

Billy smiled down at you. “You sure you wouldn't get tired of me darlin’?”

“Never.” You giggled, placing a finished daisy crown on Billy’s head. Who knew a known killer could look so impossibly gorgeous in a flower crown?

Billy smiled at you, adjusting the crown on top of his messy brown curls.

“Jesse would never let me hear the end of it if he knew I was sittin’ here with flowers on my head.” He joked.

You let out a laugh, scooting closer to him. You cupped his cheek gently.

“I love you Billy.”

He leaned down to kiss your lips, pink and warm. “I love you too darlin’.” He murmured against them. You could feel his words vibrate through your body.

You wanted this moment to last forever.

You and Billy.

And a field of flowers.

#billy bonney x reader #billy the kid x you #billythekidxreader #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid imagine #billy bonney #billy the kid #billy the kid smut #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth fanfiction #tom blyth #willam afton #william h bonney #william h bonney x reader #coriolanus imagine

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fan-goddess · 2 months

Text

Yes sir…

Thank you @succnfuccubus for inspiring me to write this and convincing me to actually do this

Summary: After another rejection, Billy’s feeling a little down in the dumps. But after meeting with your friend that morning and looking at a unique source material, you get a very unique idea on how to hopefully cheer him up.

Authors Note: Gave the friend a name as it was just easier. I loved the idea, but I don’t like this for some reason

Taglist: @valeskafics, @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @omgbrcat @blue-serendipity @arcielee @targaryenbarbie @anjelicawrites d

Warnings: Smut books, p in v sex, m oral, praise kink, power imbalance role play, role play, angst, comforting, sad boy Billy Washington, the economy, begging, cuddling (if I miss any let me know)

Billy had never been a particularly avid reader. The most he’d ever voluntarily read probably being the required reading for secondary school English. You on the other hand, even before you’d stumbled across the smut section on the internet, had always been a common bookworm.

When your friend Lya first began to lend you books from her so called private collection though, now that’s when you became a woman possessed. Soon, most of what you were reading involved some sort of dark romance filtered in. Whether that was mafia, pirate, or just a simple brother’s best friend romance. You read it all with an expressionless face.

Yet when you’d begun to date Billy, you must confess to the amusement of Lya, who you’d been borrowing books from for all these years, that you hadn’t been borrowing and reading as many of those sort of books as you used too. Since now, you had a real life romance novel in front of your very eyes to carry out. It wasn’t exactly the dream romance kids pictured after watching a Disney movie, but what sort of relationships were these days?

The last few days, you and Billy had been unable to have sex due to a sudden difference in work times. Well, your work times and Billy’s interviews. Still, whilst you were used to this happening at some random times, your pussy had taken a sudden hit with the recent dry streak. Now, you were beginning to crave one of those novels of yours in your hands again. Desperate for a new sort of fiction that’d get brain stimulated and your cunt working.

So you called the best smut dealer you knew.

“Hey bestie!” You grinned, picking at your nail while your other hand was busy holding the phone. “I need a favour…” She’d laughed when you’d asked her for a new recommendation, yet to your relief, you and her had managed to agree to a meet up the next day to, exchange the goods.

The morning you were supposed to leave, you remember kissing Billy goodbye as your adorable half asleep boyfriend was still laying in bed all cosy and pretty. “Where are you going?” He’d grumbled, so cute with a small tired pout on his face that it almost made you want to strip back down to nothing and pounce on him there and then. The lack of sex it seemed was really getting to you right now.

“Visiting one of my friends for a morning drink. Nothing much baby. Remember though you’ve got that interview at 3, so don’t forget!” You smiled, giving him another deep kiss before you go that left Billy’s cheeks flushed from bashfulness. He’s so effortlessly fucking sexy it was utterly unreal…

When you got to the cafe you’d planned to meet Lya at, she eagerly waved at you from a discreet corner of the room. She may be honest as hell about what she reads, but she sure as hell knows how to act like a fucking dealer about it.

“Hello darling!” You smile, moving so you could give her a quick hug before sitting opposite her. “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been alright thanks babes! Stocking up on my little novel collection, which reminds me!” She gives you a mischievous smile, and from her bag produced a book with quite a different cover than what you thought it’d be. As she places in front of you what looks to be a copy of great expectations.

“Think you’ve mixed up the books Lya!” You laugh, giggling in amusement when you see her look at you with such disappointment.

“Course I haven’t idiot!” She sighs, moving to grab the book and remove the book cover, before showing you the back of it. Where much to your surprise, you find the blurb for a very different book. Called ‘Unbuttoning the CEO’. “I read it last week and thought it’d be perfect for you!”

You laugh at the title and place the secret cover back on, before placing it in your bag. You don’t bring the book up again the rest of the catch up convo, but at the end when the two of you have eaten your cakes, drunk your coffees and were saying your goodbyes, you made sure to let Lya know what you thought of the book when you read it.

When you get back home, you head to the bedroom first to see if Billy’s back or not. The bed you can see is unmade and ruffled, yet when you feel it you can tell it’s cold to the touch, telling you Billy left a while a go. You head to the living room and sit on the sofa with a small sigh, praying Billy didn’t decide to head to the pub before a job interview.

You’re still for a couple minutes trying to think of what to do to occupy your time while you wait for Billy, and your eyes can’t help but be drawn to your bag, where the book practically taunts you from inside it. Before you even know it, you’re curled up on the sofa with the book in your hand and your lip between your teeth.

Words blur as you read sentence after sentence, but your eyes certainly eagerly tune in when you get to the actual sex part, which wasn’t even very far in to be honest.

The ceo takes the assistant on his desk, and you can’t help but clench your legs together when you read about how later on the assistant helps the CEO to ‘destress’. You take a small break to make yourself a quick drink, and can’t help but find your mind drifting to the idea of you and Billy in those scenes, playing those characters. You can’t help but forget about even making any sort of drink as you imagine exactly how you could help Billy destress from the recent unfair influx of job rejections.

You eagerly get back to reading though, and by the time Billy comes back home around 5, stinking slightly of cheap lager, you’ve already finished the book twice and reread your favourite scenes about three times over.

“Hey baby!” You smile, making note on how Billy nuzzles his body into yours as much as he can as soon as he gets close enough. Your pretty little teddy bear… “How’d it go?”

“Said I weren’t what they were looking for…” He murmurs into the length of your neck, as you kiss the top of his head softly. “Another fucking failure to add to the list…”

“Don’t say that!” You firmly say, placing both your hands on the side of his face to force his eyes to meet yours. You hate the way he looks so broken in that moment. So beaten by the world that all you want to do in that moment is wrap your arms around him and keep him safe from everything and everyone. The assholes who hurt him hurt him good and deep, and if you could, you’d beat them to death yourself. Maybe even with your porn book that’d be a right sight you must admit… “You are fucking amazing! You’re my favourite person in the whole world and I will not have you bring yourself down! Do you understand me Billy Washington?”

He gulps, and for a second you swear you can see tears build up in his eyes before they’re quickly blinked away.

“I-I underhand darling. Thank you, for being there for me. For everything.” He says, before bringing you in for a hug. Practically crushing you with how hard his arms lock around your waist and his head stays tucked in the skin of your neck.

The two of you stay there for what feels like hours. Holding each other while the time goes by. The only reason the two of you even break away from each other is because your phone rings so loudly all of a sudden and shocks the two of you into remembering the situation at hand. You quickly move to switch your phone on silent, and yet your eyes somehow manage to drift to the book peeking out from behind a sofa cushion, and an idea makes it way through your mind.

“Hey Billy…” You begin, smirking when you see Billy’s usual shy persona breaking through his shell once more when he sees that smile of yours. “I wanna try something tonight…”

“What is it?” He asks, raising a brow and stepping back slightly when he sees the grin on your face.

“Just something I read recently. Wanna see how you’ll like it…” You purr, placing your hands on his shoulders and dragging him to the edge of the sofa, before pushing him slightly so he falls backwards with a small gasp. His eyes open wide as they stare at you with such awe and admiration that you can’t help but find yourself blushing slightly.

You slowly lower yourself between Billy’s legs, which seem to open as wide as they can automatically, and with innocent fluttering eyes, lay your head on the side on his leg.

“Can I please suck your cock sir?” You beg, a pout on your lips to mimic pure desperation as Billy practically seems to have a heart attack above you. He appears breathless as you spring this sudden fantasy upon him, and yet by the way you can see and feel his trousers move and strain with his quickly swelling cock, you can tell with certainty that he definitely seems to be enjoying this.

“Yes…” He eventually murmurs with a heavy breath. “You can suck my cock….”

“Thank you sir, I promise I won’t let you down!” You smile, moving your hands to undo his belt and shimmy down his trousers and his underwear. When Billy is left sitting naked before you, as he’d claimed to feel silly if he was sitting in just his shirt, you can’t even stop yourself from admiring your boyfriends erect cock that stands proudly before your face.

“Such a pretty cock sir…” You murmur, before opening your mouth and taking it in your mouth as far as you can before your nose hits the small soft patch of hair lying at the base of Billy’s cock.

You can hear him keen and whine above you, and you’re very sad you can’t see the way his eyes no doubt roll to the back of his head. You slowly move your head back and forth, keeping a steady pace that leaves Billy practically shaking and whining above you.

“Please….” You hear him beg. A noise you love more than anything, and yet at this moment it’s not what you want. You want him to feel in control for once. To know how much you worship him and adore him. To know that he has the ability to make you become so needy and desperate for him that you’ll do anything to please him. That is, with the right words of course.

“Please darling!” He continues, his whimpering so delightful to your ears that you almost throw your plan out the window so you could give him as many earth shattering orgasms as he deserves. But patience is a virtue, so you continue to suck at Billy’s cock in a leisurely pace. Drawing all sorts of noises from him that leaves your own lower half aching for a release.

“Take control of me Billy…” You eventually say, admittedly growing tired of the lack of communication between the both of you. “Take hold of me and do whatever you want to me sir…”

It seems your words finally made it into his pretty little head. Since as soon as you try and go back to putting your mouth on him after saying those words to him, you feel a strong hand wrap itself between the strands of your hair, atopping you from getting anymore closer to his cock than what you already are. It makes your pussy admittedly wetter as you’re now effectively eye level with Billy’s weeping member, and yet am unable to touch it at all. Forced to stare at it while it weeps a single drop his precum and watch while it trails down his erection. It’s absolute fucking torture.

“Please sir!” You find yourself begging, an actual pout on your lips as desperation claws up your whole body. “I wanna make you feel good sir! Wanna warm your cock in my mouth and feel your cum trickling down my throat!”

You can feel the grip his hands have on your hair tighten, and before you know it, Billy’s cock is hitting the back of your throat and your eyes are rolling to the back of your head as your used like a pathetic fuck toy. You let your body go limp as you allow Billy to use you however he decides, yet he doesn’t seem to exactly have that part figured out yet, as he focuses on moaning and groaning about you like a porn star while he uses you to his current hearts content.

For a while, you almost find yourself unable to breathe. Gasping for air whenever the opportunity appeared. Yet still, you persist in your willingness, eager to see the usually so submissive man in front of you break.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum!” He groans, moaning as he further tightens his grip on you and forces you to work harder and faster on his cock. You moan wantonly and work your tongue harder as you feel his tip become drenched in a delicious mixture of both your spit and his precum, and feel his entire length throb under the weight of your efforts. It’s actually quite flattering really, seeing how fast he’s about to cum from your suggestions.

“Fuuuuuuck please swallow baby please please please!” He whines, that inner submissive of his still lingering as he holds your head down firmly on his cock while you feel his cum shoot down to the back of your throat, and practically choke you with how much you feel quickly filling your mouth. You cough slightly as you try and obey Billy by swallowing what you can, yet you can’t help but have a few drops of his essence flow down your cheek as you struggle swallowing the first few drops.

“Here you go baby…” Billy murmurs, using his fingers to pick up the stray dribbles and put them in front of your lips. Admittedly you feel quite bashful as you avoid his eyes while sucking the remaining taste of him off his fingers, but as soon as you finish, those same now spit covered fingers rest under your chin and force your head up so your eyes can meet.

A silent gasp releases under your breath as you see an uncharacteristic carefree yet somehow cocky smile on Billy’s face. That submissive man you saw not even five minutes ago gone as this new, changed man sits before you. Like some sort of strange sexual butterfly.

“You were a good girl for me.” He simply says, allowing you to bask in the feeling of his dominance that makes your legs weak at the knees. “And good girls if I’m right, get rewarded. You taught me that pretty girl. So please, get naked, and get on the bed for me arse up, so I can reward you for being so good for me.”

Fuck you’ve made a monster. A sexy one yes, but still a sexually dominant monster.

You do as Billy says to a T. Stripping yourself quickly so that your clothes are all over the bedroom floor, and placing your body on the bed in Billy’s desired position. You wait with bated breath for what feels like hours while your skin erupts in a multitude of goosebumps, and you swear you nearly jump out of your skin when you feel Billy’s warm skin suddenly against yours. You feel his half hard cock rubbing almost pitifully against your arse, and you realise with a very sick thrill that you can actually feel him getting harder the more your juices seem to coat him.

It seems though you were so caught up in your thoughts, that you miss the sounds of Billy’s own clumsy movements of stripping.

“So pretty…” He groans. A beautiful sound that leaves you wanting more more and more. How greedy of you… “You want to be fucked by me don’t you? By your boss?”

“Yes sir!” You whine, your head going dull as you stay focused only Billy’s body and nothing else. On the way he makes you feel so effortlessly, and without meaning. “Want you to make me yours! Want me to make sure everyone knows I only belong to you!”

You can hear Billy deeply grunt behind you, and with a gasp you don’t even at first realise belong to you, you feel Billy thrust his cock deep inside you. An intense feeling of fullness hitting you as you close your eyes and grip your hands desperately at the sheets in an attempt to ground yourself.

He gratefully allows you to get used to the sudden intrusion, but before you know it, Billy is quickly thrusting himself quickly in and out of you while you moan and keen for more beneath him. Your eyes screwing shut as your lower belly slowly tightens harder and harder.

“So good!” He groans, unexpectedly yet cautiously smacking your backside with his palm that causes an absolute pathetic sound to leave your lips. “My sweet little slut. All mine to fuck!”

An abundance of yeses comes quickly and brainlessly as you answer Billy’s statement with a high pitched moan. All you want right now is to cum. And by the way you can feel your cunt clenching and fluttering hard around Billy’s cock, you can guess it won’t be long before you do.

“Fuck sir I wanna cum please let me cum for you sir I’ve been so good!” You whine, your mouth hanging open in a silent scream as Billy somehow manages to move himself faster against you. The sound of his skin smacking at such a fast pace against your own to your ears sounding like an erotic symphony.

“Yes… you have been good…” Billy groans. His voice so strained it’s as if he’s struggling with all his strength to say them. “So you’ll continue to be good… by taking my fucking cum in your perfect cunt!”

You take that as your queue, and with a loud unwavering yell, you cum hard around Billy’s cock. Coaxing forth his own orgasm as he clutches hard at your skin and pushes himself as deep as he can to you. Moaning as you focus on the feeling of his hot cum filling you.

You can also feel his pubic hair stimulating your swollen clit, which leaves you silently gasping against the mattress and your aching pussy clenching against Billy’s softening cock.

The two of you stay where you are as you allow each other to breathe and calm down, yet it’s not long before the two of you are cuddling under the bed covers, with Billy’s cock still inside you.

“Did you like that baby?” You can’t help but murmur. Anxious on whether Billy was happy over you pushing him out of his usual comfort zone.

“It was different…” He summarises. You cannot see his face to make any assumptions. Given that your man has gone back to his roots by putting his head in the curve of your neck. “But I liked it. I liked it a lot.”

You may not be able to see it, but even so, your ego swells massively when you realise you can feel Billy’s bashful smile against your skin. It almost makes you want to have your wicked way with him again. That is though, before you realise with a warm feeling chest that Billy has steadily fallen asleep against you. With his softened cock still inside you, and your arms wrapped firmly around his body ensuring his safety.

“Sleep baby…” You murmur, kissing the top of his head with a smile. “You were such a good boy for me baby… we’ll see about rewarding you later….”

You may have imagined it, but you swear you can feel Billy smile against your skin. Yet you push the thought away and instead choose to close your eyes, and allow your own exhaustion to overcome you. You and Billy’s breaths and hearts synching as you hold each other with as much love as a sleeping person could handle.

#Billy Washington #trigger point #Billy Washington x reader #Billy Washington/reader #trigger point fanfiction #Billy Washington fanfiction #ewan mitchell imagine #ewan mitchell x reader #ewan mitchell #ewanverse #ewan nation #my works #Billy Washington imagine

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hungermakesmonsters · 4 months

Text

Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Twelve

Plot summary : When your friend interviews for a position at Anvil, you have a chance encounter with Billy Russo. He takes you for coffee and, by the time you’re done, Billy decides he’s anything but done with you.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R

Chapter Rating : R-ish

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] This chapter contains vague allusions to physical abuse/abusive past relationship. Some sex mentions. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : ~3.2k

A/N : This is set about a week after the last chapter. It's mostly angst and a little bit more about readers past. Billy kinda fucks up in this one.

CHAPTER TWELVE

It felt strange to long for someone you hardly knew, to miss having him close when you’d only been intimate for a couple of weeks. But, without Billy, you felt a strange sort of loneliness that should have terrified you, the sort of yearning you’d completely given up on before you’d let him force his way into your life.

Days had continued to tick by with nothing but text messages and phone calls passing between you, leaving you longing to feel his arms around you again. You tried everything to push the feelings away; reading, catching up with old TV shows, anything that didn’t make you think of him.

But, the moment he told you that he’d be working from home and that you could stay over, you agreed, biking across Manhattan as soon as you finished your day.

He was waiting for you the moment the elevator doors slid open, kissing you and tugging off your clothes as he pressed you back against the wall. He fucked you like it had been six years and not six days since you’d last seen him, leaving you a trembling mess and reminding you just what you’d been missing out on all week.

Eventually, once he managed to finally put you down and take his hands off you, you found yourself on his sofa, eating Chinese take out while he sat with his laptop and tried to get some work done. Now and then, he’d shoot you an apologetic look - obviously, it wasn’t how he’d wanted the evening to go, but you were perfectly happy where you were, enjoying the food and just being near him. You distracted yourself by trying to finish reading the trashy romance novel you’d brought on the Kindle app on your phone.

When you needed a drink, you stood, heading for the kitchen, trying not to disturb Billy. You didn’t think twice about leaving your phone on the sofa, unlocked and on the page you were in the middle of reading - your first mistake of the evening.

“Her fingers sizzled a path to my cock,” his words caught you by surprise, and so did the laugh that followed, “sweetheart, if you’d wanted something to read, I could’ve found you a much better book than this horny trash.”

You turned back to him, feigning indignation; “I’ll have you know that horny trash is the only thing that’s been getting me through the last few days.”

He put down his laptop on the coffee table and slowly got to his feet, your phone still in his hand.

“You think a smutty book is a good substitute for me?” His dark eyes fixed on you, looking at you like he was thinking of all the things he wanted to do to you. You stepped away from the kitchen, back towards him, waiting for him to clear the distance between you and take what he wanted. “Does this stuff really get you going? Does it get you wet?”

You bit your lower lip, trying to to stop your lips from pulling into a smirk, but it was impossible.

“Have you spent this whole week with your fingers between your legs reading this?” Billy asked, stepping closer still. You bit down on your lip even harder, your cheeks starting to heat, before you managed to shake your head. “No?”

“Not my fingers,” you admitted softly, “and it wasn’t the book I was thinking about...”

“Not your fingers?” Your head shook again and he took a step closer. You might as well have been naked with the way he was looking at you, his eyes burning with desire. “Then what were you using while you were thinking about me?”

“My vibrator,” not sure why admitting to owning a sex toy to someone like Billy felt so scandalous.

“Fuck, sweetheart, if I’d known you’d been missing me so much I would’ve spent the last hour inside you, reminding you why nothing but me is ever gonna satisfy your sweet little pussy,” his voice turned low, uncontrolled. “Guess I’m gonna have to make up for lost time now...”

Your eyes dropped, noticing the way his sweatpants were already starting to tent, relieved that the conversation was getting to him just as much as it was you.

“What about you?” You dare to ask.

“What about me?”

“How much did you miss me?”

“You mean did I jerk off thinking about you?” He asked and you nodded. “Every night with those red lace panties you gave me.”

You breath caught at the admission and the look on his face, and you found yourself trying to picture it. Staring, you silently willed him to clear the distance between you and give you both what you clearly wanted. But Billy didn’t move, he seemed more interested in the moment you were sharing and wanted to see how far he could push it.

“I get hard just thinking about you, sweetheart,” he continued to confess, “I can’t stop thinking about you on your knees, sucking my cock.”

You made a show of licking your lips, despite the embarrassment you were enjoying watching him slowly lose control. He wanted you to break first, but you weren’t going to make it easy for him. “Yeah? You liked that?”

“You know I did,” he all but growled, knowing what you were trying to do to him. “You liked it too, didn’t you? You were so fucking wet when I got you home...”

You nodded almost shyly. As much as you wanted to carry on, you weren’t like Billy, dirty talk didn’t come easily to you, but you still managed; “want me to do it again, right now?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, I want you to get on your knees and -”

But then your phone started to ring in his hand and the game quickly came to an end. You watched as he looked at the screen, the smile vanishing from his lips.

“Who’s Sam?” He asked with an unexpected sharpness that caused your stomach to knot.

“Don’t answer it,” you begged quickly, suddenly. With your hand outstretched you moved towards him, needing him to give you your phone back. But Billy wasn’t looking at you, he was looking at the name on the screen and the picture that went with it.

The ringing soon stopped, but Billy didn’t give your phone back. Instead he started swiping at the screen, obviously looking for something. Your stomach dropped, realising that your phone was still unlocked and he had access to everything on there.

“Billy, give me my phone back, it’s not -” you tried to talk around the lump that had lodged itself in your throat.

“Call me back,” he started to read from your phone, obviously scrolling through the dozens of unanswered text messages Sam had sent, “we need to talk. I love you but I’m sick of this shit. Don’t make me come get you. Talk to me. We had a deal.”

“It’s not what you think,” you tried again, reaching for your phone. Billy stepped back, keeping hold of your phone.

“And what do you think I think?” He asked, his tone enough to make you flinch. “‘cause I think forty-seven missed calls today, and fifty-two yesterday means someone really wants to talk to you.”

“It’s not like that -”

“Oh, isn’t it? So you get guys telling you that they love you all the time, calling you non-stop and begging you to talk to them?” It almost felt like he was mocking you, like he thought you were an idiot for even trying to convince that there was nothing going on.

“Billy, please, just listen to me...”

If he heard you, he didn’t seem to care. “Is this what does it for you? Is this why you finally said yes to me? Did I chase you enough, make you feel special? You just like the attention?”

“Stop it, just -” you raised your voice, desperate to make him listen, to make him hear you out.

“Is this what you want? You want me to lose my mind over you? Will you start ignoring my calls when you’re done with me?” Something almost frantic started to slip into his tone.

“No, Billy, I -”

It was clear to see that he was spiralling out of control, that the thought of you with another man made him lose his mind. And it hurt - it hurt that he wouldn’t listen to you, that he thought you’d do anything to hurt him like that.

“If I obsess over you enough, do I get my initials carved on your body somewhere? Will you let me pick where?”

You stepped backwards, an uncomfortable breath catching in your throat. It only took Billy a second to realise his mistake. There was no confusing the sudden look of terror on your face or the way that your whole body tensed as you started to back away from him. Your eyes stayed fixed on him, wide and afraid, your lungs burning as they struggled to draw breath.

Billy seemed frozen as the pieces fell into place and he finally understood; you hadn’t carved the S into your arm. Someone else had, against your will.

And, now, despite everything about him that made you feel safe, despite every time you’d told yourself that he wouldn’t hurt you, you were overcome with fear.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t -” you flinched as he took a step, “- I didn’t mean that. I’d never -”

“Please stop,” you uttered quietly, voice breaking as you blinked back tears. You didn’t want to talk about it, not now, not ever.

“I didn’t know, you didn’t tell me - why didn’t you tell me?” A panicked anguish quickly filled his voice and, at any other time, you might have felt for him, but all you could do was continue to shrink away from him. “Tell me who did it - tell me, I’ll fucking kill him.”

The spike of anger in his voice did nothing to settle your frayed nerves. You knew it wasn’t aimed at you, but you had no doubt in that moment that Billy was capable of murder, and that he’d kill anyone who’d hurt you. But you didn’t want Billy involved, you didn’t want him to know about any of your scars or where they had come from.

“Was it this guy? This Sam?” He held up your phone, his knuckles turning white as he dared to step closer. Even though his anger wasn’t directed at you anymore, it still scared you.

You shook your head. “Sam’s my brother.”

Another secret spilled, another thing you hadn’t wanted him to know.

“You have a brother? I thought you said -”

You moved suddenly, before Billy could reach you - he was between you and the elevator, so leaving wasn’t an option, but you needed space, you needed to be able to breathe. He called your name and you heard him following after you as you ducked into his bedroom and headed for the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

The moment the door was shut, you sank to the floor, pulling your knees to your chest.

“I’m sorry, I -” you could hear him on the other side of the door, but he didn’t rattle the handle, didn’t knock or try to get to you. From the broken tone of his voice, you knew that he was upset and, as much as you might have hated that at any other time, Billy’s upset was not your priority. “I’m a fucking idiot, I’m sorry. I - I never meant -”

You took a long breath, counting back from ten, trying to remember any of the coping mechanisms you’d worked on in therapy so many years ago. Despite the tears in the corners of your eyes, the last thing you wanted was to cry - you’d cried too many tears over the scars on your arms over the years and you weren’t going to shed any more. You were stronger than that, you’d spent years becoming stronger than that.

“Please, talk to me?”

You still didn’t answer. You couldn’t, it felt like you could hardly breathe.

He was pacing, you could hear it through the door. “I’d never hurt you - you know I’d never hurt you, right? I couldn’t, I -”

Still, you said nothing. A moment later there was a loud thud and you heard his footsteps moving away from the door and out of the bedroom.

As you sat, you tried to deconstruct everything that had happened, why it had upset you and whether it was reasonable to be upset about it; Billy going through your phone without permission (yeah, it was reasonable to be upset at that), him getting upset about Sam (yes and no, you probably could have handled that a little better), and the comment about that scar (yes but, again, he hadn’t known the full story).

But, the thing that worried you, the thing that had you panicked, was just how quickly it had escalated and how he hadn’t even tried to hear your side of things. Did you think that he could hurt you? No. But whether that was you being stupid and naive, you didn’t know. All you really knew was that something inside you felt safe with Billy, something inside you told you that he’d never hurt you, and perhaps that was the best place to start.

It took twenty minutes before you worked up the courage to stand and another five before you could bring yourself to open the bathroom door. Billy was nowhere to be seen but, to your surprise, he’d left your phone on the floor in front of the bathroom door.

You grabbed your bag from the foot of the bed and carried it with you, but you didn’t head for the elevator. You weren’t going to run away.

Billy was standing by the windows, looking out at the view, looking every bit as lost and alone as you felt.

“We - we should talk,” you said softly, just to draw his attention.

He turned, but he didn’t move towards you. He kept his distance, as if he didn’t trust himself anymore. When he caught sight of the bag in your hand, Billy let out a sigh.

“I’m sorry,” he said, sounding like he knew he’d already lost.

“I know you are.”

“I didn’t mean -”

“Yes you did, Billy.” It wasn’t your intention to hurt him but there was no missing the flicker of pain on his face. He’d been upset, but he’d meant every word that he’d said to you, and you needed him to acknowledge that. “But what hurts is that you saw those messages and just assumed that I’d do that to you.”

“I know, I shouldn’t’ve, I just...” you could see the struggle on his face as he tried to find the words, tried to find a way to explain something that you weren’t even sure he could explain. You were starting to think it was just how he was wired - but that didn’t mean you had to accept it. “This isn’t easy for me.”

“Which part? Because it’s not exactly a walk in the park for me either.”

“I don’t do this,” which didn’t make it any clearer, but the frustration in his voice was unmissable.

“There is no this, Billy. You didn’t want this to be a relationship. We’re just - I don’t know, us.”

“Yeah, just us.”

There was something in the way he said it that had your heart sinking and it took a moment for the penny to finally drop.

“You wanna fuck other women, is that it?” And suddenly it all seemed pointless. “Of course you do, why wouldn’t you? Why would I ever think you might settle for me?” Because, of course, a man like Billy wouldn’t settle for you, scars and all.

You started to move towards the elevator, telling yourself that, this time, it wasn’t running away; you’d tried to talk to him, tried to figure it out, and leaving was the only option that remained. As much as it hurt, you couldn’t stay knowing that he’d never be satisfied with you, and that he clearly didn’t feel a fraction of what you felt when you were with him. (It was your own fault, you shouldn’t have let yourself feel anything at all for a man like Billy, you’d known from the start that it would end badly.)

“Stop -” he suddenly started to move towards you, “- I don’t want to fuck anyone else, that’s not what I meant. And I’m not settling, you’re the only one I want.” He forced the words out in an angry and uncomfortable admission - he didn’t even manage to look like he believed it himself.

“I’d be flattered if you didn’t sound like it bothered you so fucking much.” You spat back, just as angry.

“Of course it bothers me. I don’t know how to not fuck this up. I don’t know how to not make you leave me.”

“My suggestion would be doing anything but this.” You reached the elevator doors, but you didn’t push the call button - you couldn’t bring yourself to end things, not while he was still talking.

“So, that’s it - we’re back to this?”

“Back to what?”

“You, pushing me away, not talking to me.”

“I can’t do this if you don’t trust me.” You told him.

“I’m trying, but you don’t trust me either, do you?”

You wanted to answer immediately, to tell him of course you trusted him, but it wasn’t that simple. He was right, you didn’t trust him, not completely - you didn’t trust anyone completely. You couldn't, you’d been hurt too many times before. And maybe Billy had been too.

“Why don’t you do this - why don’t you want a relationship?” You dared to ask and Billy looked away almost as if he was ashamed.

“Because everyone leaves eventually? Because what I can offer always stops being enough... I don’t know.” He sounded resigned to it, like there really was no other way that he saw things panning out.

“And you think that’d happen with us? That I’d just leave you?”

He looked at you for a second before letting his gaze drop again. “You’re doing it right now.”

“That isn’t fair. You know why I’m leaving.” You wanted to be firm, wanted him to know that you were leaving because of his actions, not because of who he was but, instead, the words came out quiet, soft.

Billy didn’t answer, he looked defeated, like he’d given up. He didn’t talk again until you’d hit the call button and the elevator doors slid open.

“So, we’re done then?”

Were you? You hesitated, hating how quickly everything had fallen apart - how easily you’d both let it fall apart. Maybe it was just how things were meant to be; maybe neither of you were capable of sustaining whatever this was. But -

“No - I don’t know,” was the most honest answer you could give. “I just - I need some time, Billy. Can you give me that?”

“How much time?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “A few days maybe?”

“Okay,” he shrugged in return, looking like he’d already given up.

By the time you’d stepped into the elevator and hit the button, he’d already turned away from you. Billy didn’t say a word as the doors shut and you left him all alone. Somehow, you managed not to break down and cry until you’d made it back across the city and into the comfort of your own bed.

Chapter Thirteen

A/N : Well... I originally wanted to try and time things so I could have nice chapters come out over the holidays, but then this happened. Sorry! It really wasn't my intention to end the year on a downer, but don't worry, the next part is pretty much finished and will be up the same time next week!!

Anyway, I hope you're all doing well and, as always I really do appreciate all the love you've shown this series!!!

If you want adding/removing from the tag list let me know (I know it hasn't been working for some people so I've tried to remove and add people again to see if that help but, other than that, I think it's just tumblr being lame?)

TAG LIST

@lincerad @sweetserendipity65 @rafaelakelley @slayerofthevampire @rensolodriver @lovelydoveval @doloreschanal @damagelove @danzer8705 @unlikelystarlightcowboy @schlotzshewrote @bisexualbith @uncontainedsmiles @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @lilliesofmay

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #billy russo fanfic #the punisher #cmiyc ff

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bagopucks · 1 year

Text

Blurbs

Quinn Hughes x Reader

You guys know like.. how some porches are closed in? With either like, screens or they’re fancy with glass? I live for those. So yeah.. this isn’t exactly dancing in the rain, but it’s dancing on your enclosed porch in the rain, cuz Quinn’d be damned before he was getting wet for no reason.

“She’s Always A Woman” - Billy Joel

✄————————————

She can kill with a smile, she can wound with her eyes

“Babe?”

I looked up from my book, spotting Quinn standing in the open doorway. I glared. He flinched, catching sight of the novel in my hands.

“I interrupted?”

“I’ll allow it. Step into my chambers, Quinner.”

That natural frown on his lips quickly turned upwards into a smile. Though a crack of thunder caused his smile to falter when he noticed the way it made me jump.

And she can ruin your faith with her casual lies

“Watcha reading?”

“Our love story.” The joke, however senseless, made him scoff out a laugh.

And she only reveals what she wants you to see

She hides like a child but she's always a woman to me

“Hand it over.”

I watched him approach, and I was quick to shove the book beneath my body, effectively sitting on it.

“What the hell?” Quinn’s smile widened as he tried to move me off the novel. I swatted his hands away.

A rumble of thunder interrupted our game, and my head turned to look out one of the many windows on our porch. I gasped and laughed when Quinn practically pushed me onto my side, slipping the book out from beneath me.

She can lead you to love, she can take you or leave you

She can ask for the truth but she'll never believe you

“Quinn! Give it back!” I shot up from the chair to reach for my book. He held it high above his head.

“Only if you kiss me first.”

And she'll take what you give her as long as it's free

I rolled my eyes, swift to lean forward to press a kiss to his lips. Then without warning, pulled away and hopped up to snatch my book from his hand.

Yeah, she steals like a thief, but she's always a woman to me

Quinn reached for me before I stepped out of his grasp. I took swift backwards steps behind the wicker porch couch I’d been sitting on, Quinn standing on the other side with a calculating look on his face, accompanied by that contagious smile.

Oh, she takes care of herself, she can wait if she wants

She's ahead of her time

“Quinn! Just leave it alone. It’s a stupid romance novel.. alright?” I tried not to laugh at the absurdity of our childishness.

“Come on! This has to be one of your weird sex books.”

Oh, and she never gives out and she never gives in

“It is not!” Another crack of thunder made me jump

“Is too!”

She just changes her mind

“Maybe it is!”

My response caught him off guard, but Quinn always told me that’s why he loved me so much. I was unpredictable. In a reasonable way.

“Let me see it!”

“Would you just forget about the book?”

Quinn rolled his eyes and held his hands up in defeat. I was slow to make my way back around the couch.

And she'll promise you more than the garden of Eden

Then she'll carelessly cut you and laugh while you're bleeding

But she'll bring out the best and the worst you can be

Blame it all on yourself 'cause she's always a woman to me

I was cautious. He could tell. “Just put the book down. Okay? I’m done.” Quinn insisted, so I trusted him. I carefully placed the novel down on one of the cushions. He seemed to have assumed I let my guard down, because he was swift to try and slip by me. I grabbed ahold of both his hands and spun him around to face the opposite direction of the couch. When I let him go, Quinn turned back to me with an incredulous look.

He only acted like this around me. That eldest sibling behavior didn’t apply in our relationship. He was able to be a kid at heart when he wanted to.

“Give up yet?” I taunted.

Oh, she takes care of herself, she can wait if she wants

She's ahead of her time

Oh, and she never gives out and she never gives in

“Okay. I’m really done this time.”

She just changes her mind

“Good.” A flash of lightning lit up the dim room. I jumped, and Quinn finally closed the distance between us to wrap his arms around my body. Protecting me from a silly fear. One that he realized he could not distract me from with funny games.

She is frequently kind and she's suddenly cruel

“I’m fine.”

“No you’re not.” He tried to sway us.

But she can do as she pleases, she's nobody's fool

“Quinn, I’m fine.” I always felt embarrassed, perhaps a bit tense when Quinn felt he needed to take care of me at times like these. I resisted his attempts to loosely slow dance with me, adamant on pulling away.

“Just let me hold you.”

And she can't be convicted, she's earned her degree

“Quinn.” I wiggled my arms between us to push at his chest.

“No.” He held onto me tighter, his chin coming to rest on top of my head.

And the most she will do is throw shadows at you

But she's always a woman to me

“Fine.” I huffed, melting at the way Quinn began to continue to sway back and forth. I followed his movements this time, my hands ceased their pushing to rest softly against his chest. Quinn hummed along to the tune of the song in the background, playing through my phone on the table. No matter how out of tune he was, I enjoyed his voice, and the warmth of being in his arms. We swayed in endless circles, until finally Quinn pulled away and guided me inside, holding onto my hand.

“Let’s go to bed.”

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes #nhl blurb

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depravity-n-savagery · 2 years

Text

『 Kiss, Marry, Kill 』 Part 2

Part 1

♡ Pairing: Billy Hargrove x (fem)Reader

♡ Summary: After that first night of hanging out with Billy (and first kiss), the two of you go on your first date. Chock-full of sugary sweet fluff.

♡ CW: FLUFF, loads of sexual tension, making out, song lyrics, emotions, small mention of Neil, struggling with trauma

🛑 18+ MINORS DNI 🛑

♡ Word Count: 3k

♡ A/N: It's been a long work in progress, haha but I needed this fluff today so here we are. 😌 Got me falling in love. ♡

"Keep pacing like that, and you're gonna wear down the carpet."

Max was seated on your bed, legs folded with a comic book in her lap. You envied how carefree she was at that moment. Her and Lucas had made up again after their last breakup. If you could even call it that. It's one of the things you loved about her. She'd never be desperate for a guy's attention.

You, on the other hand, were falling apart.

After the sleepover, you haven't heard much from Billy. It twisted you up inside. Sure, you both had a moment. You shared a kiss. That magical, sweet kiss. It seems like a dream when you look back on it. Rose tinted hues coloring your cheeks and casting an alluring glow over Billy's sculpted chest. It was a romance novel in the flesh. A story for the ages. One that ended before it truly started.

"It's Thursday…" You said, finally halting the back and forth line you walked across your bedroom. "He hasn't called or said anything about our date tomorrow. Maybe he didn't really mean it."

"I don't believe that." The comic in Max's lap was set aside so she could shift and sit upright. Now fully tuned in to the conversation. "He's been different since that night. Not… I dunno, as much of an asshole. When I told him I was coming over here, he almost said something but he stopped. Just told me to call if I was gonna be out past curfew."

So he wouldn't even drive her here… The thoughts branched off into jagged worries and assumptions. Still, you refused to fully believe that it was all fake. That you were played. Something in those eyes reached out to you that night. Even if it was just for a little while, he let his guard down. It was genuine.

Repetitive pounding on the front door caught you both off-guard. The sound was urgent and loud enough to send ripples through the glass of lemonade on your nightstand. "Stay here." You told Max, already on your way out to the stairs. Heart leaping into your throat. Was it him? Did something happen to him again? The mysterious cuts and bruises from that night forced their way into the forefront of your memory.

When you swung the door open you were visibly disappointed. There was no Camaro in sight. No tight jeans or a bleeding lip. Just Steve Harrington, scratching the back of his fluffed head of hair. He gave you a nervous smile when he saw your reaction. "Not who you were expecting, huh?"

The answer was obvious, so you didn't bother speaking it. Besides, you didn't want it to be that obvious how much you were freaking out. Words made it official. Undeniable. So you crossed your arms and changed the subject. "What brings King Steve to my door on a Thursday afternoon?"

"Well, my arm got twisted. Literally." His hand dug into his pants pocket, fishing around and coming up with a crumpled twenty dollar bill. When the realization hit, you were so giddy you almost forgot to take it from him, but you did. Stuffing it into your bra for the time being. "That uh, came with a message too. He said 'Lovers Lake at 7 o'clock.' Don't know what that means but-"

"I do! Thanks for payin' up, Steve." You flashed him a big smile before going to close the door. "Guess you don't have to die after all."

"I WHAT?!"

His questioning was muffled outside the house, followed by another knock until you heard the sounds of his car pulling off. Your attention was already elsewhere. The date was on! The storm clouds pulled away and the sunshine was back in your eyes. Max looked at you as if an entirely different person walked in through that bedroom door. Skipping over to the bed with a little pep in your step.

"It was Steve. He had a message from Billy, and I need your help picking out an outfit."

Max whipped her head in the direction of your window, scanning the empty sidewalk for something. Or someone. "Wait, Steve was here?"

You snapped your fingers, trying to bring her back to the matter at hand. "Earth to Max! He already left, and Billy set up the date for tomorrow! I need something to wear!"

This had to be perfect. The relief and excitement felt too good for it not to be.

Friday, 6:50pm

Your leg bounced anxiously in the passenger's seat, flipping out your palm-sized mirror once again to check your hair. A low grumble came from the seat beside you. "You've checked yourself about 6 times already. You look great! Stop worrying."

Steve was dropping you off, driving waaaayy slower than you wanted him to. He was coming in handy left and right today. You were thankful, yes, but Billy would've had you guys there 15 mins ago. That familiar rumble of his Camaro brought you butterflies whenever you heard it. Heh, what a speed demon. Maybe he could take you for a drive after all this.

The faint sound of music in the distance had you squealing. You could've swore Steve tried to hide a smile, watching you get so excited. The car came to a stop in the grass, just a short walk away from the lake. Of course, not wanting to drive his precious baby any further into the dirt than he has to. The sunset bathed the water in a gorgeous blend of orange and red, with faint tints of blue in the distance. The view alone made you gasp.

"Have fun, kiddos." Steve said with a grin as you practically jumped out of the car. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Is there anything you wouldn't do, Steve?"

"Anything or anyone?" He drove off with a laugh, leaving you to walk the five or so feet to Billy's parked Camaro.

Goddamn, this man knew how to dress. It's like his skin drank up the last few rays of sunlight, and reflected them back at you. The summers here didn't burn the same as they probably did in California, but he brought the Cali sun here with him. Kept it in his chest, which he currently had on display. A short sleeved black shirt that was hardly even buttoned, just tucked into his tight jeans. A cigarette loosely hanging from his lips, burning as he inhaled and leaned against the hood of his car. The music probably drowned out the sound of Steve's car pulling up and driving away.

The grass and branches crunched under your shoes with each step, getting closer and closer until he finally noticed you approaching. He actually smiled. If you could've sprouted wings, you would be taking flight right now. Weightless and fluttery the second your eyes met. Did his heart leap like this too?

"Right on time, Y/n. If only you were this punctual in school." His smile turned devilish, flicking the cigarette down and stomping it out.

Without a second thought, you propelled yourself forward into his chest. Wrapping him in an embrace that made you exhale. Billy, on the other hand, became stone.

Shit. Shit! That was probably too forward. I mean, we only hung out ONCE. Sure, we kissed, but like-

You were ready to recoil and apologize for probably ruining the entire mood, head hung low. Stupid… But he came alive again. Snaking his arms around you cautiously, pulling you into him. Not too tight, but enough for you to feel enveloped in his warmth. To feel his heartbeat. It felt safe. Unusual for him, but welcome. The longer you held him, the more he seemed to relax into it. Even releasing an exhale of his own.

He shook you both with a titter, linking his fingers together at the base of your spine. "Is this your way of tryin' to get me to put out on the first date?"

"Not exactly." You freed one of your hands, dipping it into your small handheld bag. A crinkling sound drew his attention as you held up a plastic baggie, stuffed with some of your home-baked cookies. "But this might be."

His tongue swiped across his bottom lip, probably remembering the taste of them. He took the rest of the batch home with him the day he left your house, and you were willing to bet he'd been craving them ever since. Selfishly, you just wanted to watch the look on his face when he ate them. Hear the sounds he'd make.

"Somethin' tells me I'm gonna have to work out extra, if I keep you around." His hands lingered at your backside, reluctant to let you out of his grasp. Sadly, the rest of the surprise required the both of you getting into his car. So he let you go and rushed to pop open the passenger's side door for you. In his head, he tried to rationalize it as simply doing what guys just do during dates. Pick the place, open doors, and… bring them something. Totally not a romantic gesture, right? In the movies it was always flowers or some kind of jewelry. Not his type of thing. Instead, he went with something more personal.

You made yourself comfortable in the seat, closing the door as you got settled in. There was still a bit of heat from the sun clinging to the material. It made you wince. "Sorry 'bout that." He said, sitting in the driver seat. "Guess I'm just used to it by now."

"I can imagine." The past few days of absence felt like they were nothing more than an hour or so. That comfortable warmth was back. Only this time, the girls weren't around to keep things 'safe'. To keep that soft distance. "So do you want the goods now?"

His eyes lit up like you just offered him a free ticket to see Scorpions live. "Even better, I'll trade you." Billy twisted himself to reach into the backseat, retrieving a bag slightly bigger than your baggie full of baked treats. There was no label or logo on it. No hint to what might be inside (Billy probably did that on purpose). "Deal?"

"Deal!"

The trade-off was quick, and far from smooth. Billy's bag was launched at you, freeing his hands so he could go for the goody bag. It smacked into your face with a soft thud, then fell into your lap. Whatever it was didn't have much weight at all. Your fingers were shaking, overflowing with excitement as you peeled the bag open and peeked inside.

"Oh…my…GOSH!!"

The bag was tipped upside down, dumping your newfound treasure out of the bag so you could examine it fully. You already saw a glimpse of the image when you looked into the bag, but you wanted to be sure. It was exactly what you thought. A 'Nightmare on Elm Street' apron. How in the hell do you even find something like this?! A high pitched squeal rose out of you like a tea kettle as you held it up. "I love it!! Where'd you even find this?"

"I know some people." Pride was oozing out of him. Manifesting itself in a confident, sexy smile. It was a shot in the dark, since he went off of your impressive horror movie collection. The Shining, Friday The 13th, Poltergeist, Children of The Corn…the tapes were stacked pretty high. What stuck out the most was Nightmare on Elm Street. The VHS cover was obviously handled frequently. The corners even looked chewed, as if you gnawed on it while you watched. Engrossed in the hair-raising fictional narrative. He only caught one glimpse of it, but clearly it was something you took a big interest in. No cheap bouquet of flowers or flimsy chain would have brought this much light to your features.

"Well now my gift seems kinda silly."

"They go hand in hand." His words were slightly muffled by a mouthful of sugary cookie and melted chocolate. His jaw flexed and moved as he chewed, pulling your attention to his jawline and bare neck. A fresh canvas you wanted to color with deep reds and purples. After swallowing down the first bite of his treat, he went on. "You need this to make more of these, right?" He gestured with the cookie, trying to make his point without dropping any crumbs on his precious seats.

"Yeah, heh, I guess you're right."

You were only halfway paying attention to the actual words coming out of his mouth. The majority of your attention was on his lips. The natural red tint, and the memory of how they felt against yours. Most of all, the one stubborn crumb that was clinging to his bottom lip. Begging for you to do exactly what you ended up doing. Brushing your thumb across the surface, and then bringing that thumb to your own mouth. Tasting the remnants of sweetness.

The foundation of Billy's resolve was crumbling. Collapsing under the heavy need to just do. Scratch that itch, and go for it. Flirting and fucking was nothing new to him. It was a game he almost had no difficulty winning on a regular basis. This was a different game altogether. With higher stakes. A bigger challenge. The reward? Well… the thought of that ring was terrifying, but not off-putting.

So he took a chance and said 'fuck it'. Chasing after the contact that left his lips feeling cold and unoccupied. Swallowing your surprised gasp at the sudden movement, until you were moving right along with him. Waves crashing on your shore, and you molded under his touch like wet sand. Immediately giving him access when his tongue slipped fluidly between your lips. Your fingers closed tightly around the collar of his shirt, pulling him in as close as he could get. He wasn't getting away from you this time.

Deeper, falling into the heat rising in his chest. He wanted to lift you over the obstruction between you two and into his lap. To grind up into you so closely he could feel your heartbeat through the soft fleshy junction between your thighs. Sink his teeth into your shoulder and groan desperately into your skin because he's aching to fill you with every throbbing inch of his cock.

"Billy…" You carry his name on a whisper, catching your breath. "Do you…-"

The sounds of Foreigner on the radio snuck through the beat of silence. Slicing through the stifling physical tension. It was so cliché it made both of you laugh a bit.

I wanna know what love is

I want you to show me

I wanna feel what love is

I know you can show me (hey)

"Dance with me." The request came out with a smile, surprising yourself when you thought of it. You were pulling the latch on the door before he could even give you his reply. "Come on!"

Reluctantly, he got out with you but stayed close to his side of the vehicle. "I'm way too stiff for this." He meant that in more ways than one. Trying to subtly adjust himself while his lower half was hidden from view. "But if you wanna put on a show, I won't stop you."

"Bull. I've seen you on the court." You made your way closer to him, swaying your hips along to the music playing through the car's windows. "You've got moves."

How many rules did he plan on breaking tonight? There was nobody else here to snicker at him, or give him shit for it. Nobody would see it. You would see it. For all he knows, you could switch up on him. See behind his walls and tell the town what a bitch the 'big bad Billy' really is.

"You're just like your fucking mother, I swear! You already dress like her. You a little bitch like her too? Crying like I hurt you that bad. Man up!!"

Those weren't her words.. they were his. Neil wasn't the one holding his hand out, waiting for just the barest hint of intimacy. Billy allowed himself to lock eyes with you, catching how the stars sparkled in their reflection. If he soaked up the sun, then you soaked up the moon. Calling him closer step by step, till he was pressed against you. Hand in hand in front of his Camaro.

I wanna know what love is

(Love that you feel inside)

I want you to show me

(I'm feeling so much love)

I wanna feel what love is

(And you know, you just can't hide)

I know you can show me

Your arms rested over his shoulders, locking your fingers at the back of his neck. He wrapped his arms around you, letting his hands join once again at the base of your spine (it was slowly becoming his favorite way to hold you). The music led you both in a slow sway, barely a two step, but enough to feel just right. No effort needed on either part. Billy was impressively smooth, stirring your hips on occasion when the music swept him up, then stopping the second he realized what he was doing. Not quite ready to be that exposed. You didn't call him on it, but you definitely planned on bringing that out another time. On slowly but surely, bringing him out. The pieces he tucked away.

As you went to say something, you felt his index finger curl under your chin. Tilting you up into another kiss. He couldn't think of the words to explain the feelings he was currently swimming in. It almost hurt, how good it felt. Like stitches sewing and closing his open wounds. Stealing the breath right out of him, so his response was to borrow some of yours. Hoping on some kind of wavelength, you would understand.

You did. And you gave it right back to him. A silent exchange that rang loud and clear between the two of you. After tonight, this thing you had going was more than just a one-off. More than a distraction.

It was impossible to deny it now. You were falling. Falling fast. And Billy was more than willing to catch you.

♡ A/N: I'm a hopeless romantic, if you can't tell haha. I'm most likely not gonna write a part 3, because I actually have an idea for a fic series based kind of around this. But I hope you enjoyed this! Part 1 really blew up, and I'm happy so many people love Billy fluff as much as I do. ♡ Reblogs and feedback are always appreciated. ~

Masterlist, Ao3

Taglist: @smutlandia @henrycavillsslut @iamwarrenspeace @honeycovered-bandaids @thisispurpleyam

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x you #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove fluff

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russosafehaven · 1 year

Text

william thurber with a writer s/o who he does illustrations for. the two of them spend hours working on books together and spending hours in stationery stalls. dates to libraries and parks to find inspiration. they spend hours in the city figuring out the best way to portray the worlds they build together.

billy russo with a writer s/o who he encourages to quit their job to focus on their novel. offering to supply them with whatever they need. buying first class tickets to places like paris so that the scenery can be accurate.

the darkling with a writer s/o who’s also a fabrikator. they bind their own books and that’s how the darkling discovered them. his copy of “Lives of Saints” was damaged and Fedyor suggested a Fabrikator who specialised in books. he finds you working on your own novel in your chambers. you’re shocked at first to see him but when he gives you his request you’re more then happy for help. aleksander sits there while he watches you work, finding a page of one of your novels and reading it. by the time you’re done he’s asking for a copy to read on his next deployment

logan delos with a writer s/o who works for delos. they always have a book on hand and write the best storyline’s for westworld. in fact this specific writer has written logan’s favourite storyline’s. they catch his eye in the elevator where they’re reading a beat up copy of little women. later logan shows up in their office, prying into their personal life and somehow they end up on a date to westworld.

caspian x with a writer s/o who works in the royal library. they know every book off by heart and are full of random facts. when caspian is first crowned they’re the one who gives him a book on old narnian traditions. this leads to caspian begging them to come work in the narnian royal library. reluctantly they agree and they’re astonished by the size of it. caspian finds them writing one moment and he asks about it, they talk for hours about the world they’re writing and caspian offers to bring them on the dawntreader to add depth.

benjamin greene with a writer s/o who’s a friend of leo’s and that’s how they meet. they spend most of their time with leo, curled up with him watching the while they write. one day benjamin asks about it and they give him the journal. he returns it the next day gushing about their writing and even leo can see that they’re a better match for benjamin then his mother is. leo confronts benjamin, telling him to break up with julia and ask reader on a date. telling the bespectacled man that they’re a far better suit for him. that night benjamin goes to bed thinking about leo’s words. a few months later reader is getting their first novel published thanks to benjamin’s help.

ryan brenner with a writer s/o who he meets on a train one day. they get to talking and it turns out they’re both drifters. reader tells ryan about what they’re working on at that moment and they end up in a small town somewhere. ryan works on his music while reader works on their novel, it all flows together. eventually they just fit into each other lives perfectly. the lines between friendship and romance are blurred but it works for their unconventional lifestyle.

#billy russo #billy russo imagine #billy russo x reader #billy russo headcanon #benjamin greene x reader #benjamin greene #ben barnes #ben barnes headcanon #benjamin green headcanon #caspian x #prince caspian x reader #king caspian x reader #king caspian headcanons #logan delos headcanons #william thurber headcanons

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k-marzolf · 1 year

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{Soft}

Part of the Monsters in the Dark universe.

Soft!Billy, mean!Billy, kissing, dacryphilia, roommate au, fem!reader.

216 words.

+++

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11

“Oh, baby.”

You were sniffling, trying to hide it from your roommate, as you closed your book. But he’d noticed, as you hid your face in his chest.

“Let me see those pretty tears,” he hummed, pulling you from your hiding place. He cupped your face as the tears fell. Your book had ended sadly, and the two characters who you thought were going to end up together, didn’t. You explained it to him.

He licked the saltiness off your cheek, marveling at you. He loved how soft you were, how little things like a romance novel could reduce you to tears. It reminded him there was good in this world. He kissed your mouth, feeling himself grow excited at your crying.

He pulled you into his lap, brushing hair from your face. His thumb teased your bottom lip, and you sighed. “They didn’t get together, now what?” He teased you.

“Billy is making fun.” You pouted, making him grin.

“Poor baby, am I being mean?” He said, laughing.

“Yes,” you told him petulantly. He laughed again, pinching your cheeks.

“Can’t help it, you’re cute when you cry.” He smiled. “And you’re all mine, aren’t you?”

“All yours,” you said, snuggling into his chest.

He felt warmth bloom in his chest at your admission. All his.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader

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petruchio · 5 months

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Bestie I think you’re so right about the movie altering Lucy and Coryo’s romance to better convey the themes within the limitations of the medium!

Like it’s actually a huge book! I knew they would have to cut a lot for the sake of run time so I was fully expecting them to sacrifice some of the details that do so much heavy lifting for the deeper themes.

But I was so pleasantly surprised, and I honestly think that preserving the themes must have been a central goal in the production! I was noticing small changes - but they all seemed to serve keeping the major themes in tact?

Like I saw it with my family (who all read thg but not tbosas) and I went in wondering. Like how are they going to make a meaningful, faithful, adaptation of such a large book?? Will my family understand The Themes? And they did!

I think it speaks to Suzanne’s writing ability (her themes are layered throughout every level, so a few cuts won’t gut them entirely) and smart/intentional alterations.

Like you mention with cutting the kiss, I think doing so highlights the transactionality of this moment. Coryo won’t kiss her OR give her the compact until she denounces Billy taupe! Like literally he won’t save her life (do the right thing, like Tigris says) if she’s in love with someone else! Interesting!

But like you say, if they do !finally! kiss (without that monologue) it’s easier to miss how manipulative he’s being in that moment and the importance of it!

I think they made a similar smart choice with being shipped off to 8 - I might be wrong here!! But I’m pretty sure he isn’t ordered to be a peace keeper? He CHOOSES that because he sees it as his only avenue left? (Which I thought was some military industrial complex commentary sprinkled in but now I’m afraid I imagined this whole thing LOL)

So assuming I’m not misremembering - I thought making highbottom force him to become a peace keeper also worked similarly. Like letting him choose that (without the internal monologue) makes his motivations seem genuine when they aren’t fully. So it’s just better for the movie medium perhaps?

Anyways, rambling done lol thanks for listening 🌟

ohhhh how i love all of this!! i love you for taking the time to send all this to me -- and thank you for validating my reading of the altered love story!!

and YES i was so pleasantly surprised by how well they managed to maintain a lot of the thematic content of the book, esp because we KNOW how much they gutted it in the original trilogy. i have a couple theories on why: the first is that the filmmakers are devoted readers of my tumblr blog and they understood the importance of preserving the political themes from the novels when adapting them to the screen (ok obviously i am joking.) my real theories are -- the cultural conversation has shifted a LOT since the original films got made, and i think they were more aware and more *able* to be more explicit with so many of those ideas. i also wonder if the act of adapting the story of someone from capitol was easier than adapting someone from district 12 -- there's been much ink spilled over how we, the privileged moviegoers who are watching the film in theaters, are much more like capitolites than we are like katniss herself. and i wonder if that made it easier to adapt -- because one of the big critiques of the thg films is that they really glam jlaw up even when she's in district 12, and it makes scenes like the "remake" scenes kind of lose their power and biting social commentary. whereas with snow, and the capitol, and the games themselves, we're meant to understand that they ARE a facade, and the movie can really lean into that. (side note, my least fav costume in the whole movie was lucy gray's swimsuit. pretty much for that exact reason -- it was too ~perfect~ for the setting.)

to your point about the change with snow deciding vs being ordered to become a peacekeeper -- i honestly couldn't remember either so i went to see if i could find the quote from the book and it's this:

[...] But as he approached the dean, a cold dread washed over him. There, arranged on the table like lab specimens, were three items: an Academy napkin stained with grape punch, his mother’s silver compact, and a dingy white handkerchief. The meeting could not have lasted more than five minutes. Afterward, as agreed, Coriolanus headed directly to the Recruitment Center, where he became Panem’s newest, if not shiniest, Peacekeeper.

honestly i wish i remembered what exactly is meant by "as agreed" but i do think you're right that in the book it's more implied that he doesn't have another choice -- because he didn't win the monetary prize, he has to enroll. so i think you're right that the point is that the idea that it's his choice at all is in question because it's societal pressure and his family's financial status that kind of forces him into the military industrial complex. but i think, because they made this scene so explicit in the film, that you're right that having him be ordered to do it instead of hearing him justify it in his head manages to accomplish what we need it to for the sake of the plot moving forward (if kind of weakening that angle of sc's commentary)

also, here's something to chew on -- i was thinking as i was watching the film if part of the reason some of the changes didn't irritate me so much was because i was more forgiving of the need to shift things around to account for the lack of internal monologue because the book is written in third person instead of first person. i mean, obviously i am overly attached to pretty much everything about katniss, and yes that comes down even to her internal monologue, but i did wonder if that made some of the changes feel more natural to me, because we still kind of get them explained to us in the book as an observer, instead of listening to someone explain themselves to us (i don't know if that makes any sense?) -- but i guess what i'm trying to say is that maybe reading tbosas is more like watching a film, vs reading thg which is more like you are experiencing something alongside katniss? and that's because of the pov choice?

WELL that was a ramble! i'm always amazed by how much we can say about these books and films!! they're just so layered and so fascinating -- i'm loving all the conversations i've been seeing about tbosas. i feel like a lot of it is really starting to gel for me the more i read people's thoughts and analyses. (i still think the third act is messy though. no matter how great suzanne's themes are, i do think the pacing is rough. lol!)

#answered #anonymous #tbosas #tbosas thoughts #<- feels like i should make a specific tag for tbosas metas

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mtdthoughts · 1 month

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Miscellaneous Migi & Dali Observations

Some random thoughts I've had. I may or may not expand these in subsequent posts.

Spoiler warning as always!

I think it's fair to say that Dali has always been protective of Migi, and while Migi does his best to make Dali happy, he wasn't really "protective" toward Dali because he believed Dali was strong and was not aware of his underlying issues. After Episode 9, I think it's fair to say that Migi became protective towards Dali, now fully aware of both his strength and weakness. This caused Dali to become aware of Migi's strength, as the twins become mutually protective of each other, and I think that this shot from Episode 12 best symbolizes this.

2. I can't believe I've never brought this up before, but putting these shots in parallel is quite interesting, as it shows how Migi rejected and then accepted Dali, and later how Dali rejected and then accepted Eiji. I might write more about this if I can think of anything.

3. I wonder, whose idea was the aquarium date? Migi’s or Dali’s? I’m leaning towards Dali, considering he seems to know some things about romance, and it was him who proposed the date in the first place.

4. By the way, how does Dali know so much about romance and seduction? Did he learn all these techniques from books? I know he’s a heavy reader, but I think it would take a lot more than just reading to pull it off this well. I'm thinking that it's a combination of reading, his determination to fulfill the mission, and his natural charisma. Also, maybe Dali's disguise and act reveals what Dali's ideal partner would look like? At the very least, it's clear that Dali actually has interest in romance, similar to Eiji.

5. Speaking of Sali, how did Dali pick his outfit and wig? We know that there are tons of choices in Youko's closet, so how did he decide? Perhaps he has a good(?) sense of fashion, or perhaps this is once again another example in what Dali thinks an ideal girl looks like.

6. In the manga, the twins were seen in the orphanage reading "The Three Billy Goats Gruff", which is a fairy tale about three goats who were able to cross a bridge guarded by a troll by combining bravery, wit, and teamwork to trick and defeat it. I wonder if there's anything meaning to this...

7. Speaking of Dali's books, he is seen reading what appears to be "Franny and Zooey", which was one of J.D. Salinger's major novels, which is likely how Dali came up with "Sali" from Salinger. I haven't read it myself, but I found a description of the novel that says it explores themes of identity, spirituality, familial relationships, and the search for meaning in a world that often seems meaningless; it is also celebrated for its sharp wit, incisive dialogue, and psychological depth. Honestly, that sounds just like Migi & Dali, and I do wonder how much influence Salinger's book had on Sano's manga. Probably not as much Kristof's Book of Lies Trilogy, but who knows. Maybe I'll read it when I have the chance.

#migi and dali #migi to dali #observation

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delicrieux · 2 years

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ᴀ ɢ ɴ ᴏ ꜱ ᴛ ɪ ᴄ

pairing—eddie munson x fem!reader, platonic!max x fem!reader genre—comedy, romance, coming of age drama, angst warnings—swearing, mentions of death, mentions of abuse & anxiety cast—y/n, max word count—3.3k

—the list of people that care about max and the list of people that max cares about is short. you’re glad to be included in both.

author’s note: this fic is only 3 parts but i added an extra one bcs max is my fav character & i wanna give her a hug:(

masterlist. kofi. check out the summer features here! part one ♥ part two

PART 2.1: MAXINE WITH THE GUN

The absolute, unyielding power that was Billy Hargrove extended past the mushy crevices of home-life and spread past its walls and into everything he touched. It was disrupted, somehow, the whole space by his proximity. He demanded an audience – it’s just how he was, audacious and arresting - and he always got it. He didn’t take kindly to being unnoticed. He wasn’t his sister. Maxine was different, softer—he hated her for it.

Once upon a moving you had had the pleasure of being in Billy Hargrove’s company. He was a handsome, charismatic guy – naturally, a shoe-in for the popular crowd – and you had, once, figured he was cocky but in an inoffensive, suave way that was more meant to attract girls and make all the boys jealous.

It wasn’t.

You were wrong.

He was a terrible person.

Not to you, specifically, no, to you he was the bad-boy-good-for-his-girl-only cliché taken right out of a teen flick on a midnight showing. Whether his affection for you was genuine or not is not something you will ever be able to confirm or deny, but the fact that it was entirely unwanted was the truth.

It had started small, with a wink and a smirk and a light conversation. Then, a flower in your locker, or a hastily scrawled note. It was a sweet gesture, one you found endearing and kind, like something from a novel. You knew it was all Billy’s doing – he never shied away from the spotlight, left pieces of him wherever he went: his name, his number, a spray of his cologne or announced himself with his scribbly writing.

But you weren’t receptive enough (what he had expected you to do when receiving such innocent gestures was beyond you, but whatever it was, it was lacking). He dropped those small theatrics. Different things work on different girls, after all, and he was probably getting impatient. So he flirted and caught you after school and carried you around during cheer practice – boisterous and grinning with you shrivelling in his hold.

You liked to blend in with the crowd; liked how, even if recognizable, your face and body disappeared in the clique, safe. Billy made sure you were an eyesore. There were girls that liked him more than you liked him, and they made sure to let their displeasure be known with glares and snide glances but they never dared to say a thing.

It got to you, maybe, a little, it’s hard to say, hard to pinpoint—everyone loved him, see, and maybe you loved him too, by association. But you never kissed, never became his girlfriend either, because, and it’s awful, a rotten thing, you still recall it, the sight and your pulse pumping in your ears, body numb with fright—

You weren’t supposed to bear witness, and perhaps if you didn’t you would have lived unknowing of what lied behind that pretty mask. You were late – a rare occurrence, but it did happen – and there was no one but empty parked cars next to Hawkins High and a deserted yard. You rushed, you recall, manoeuvring past the vehicles and cussing, hissing, frowning at how stupid you were to slip up like that and how you can kiss your weekend goodbye—and then, maybe you overheard a hitch or a yell or a groan of an engine but your head turned and there he was, in his car, he and his sister, and he seemed so angry that it stopped you in your tracks.

Pebbles crunched underfoot and with eyes bulging you watched them argue, watched the windows collect with dew from anger, heard muted, harsh voices mingle in the morning air. It happened in a second. Maxine was out before you realised he struck her and there were tears in her eyes she wiped away quickly before running into the building. You still stood there, frozen, your lips agape, and it stung, you realised, fear strings and it has taste: tart, bitter, choking.

You turned in his direction, stiffly, and your fingers dug into the strap of your bag so tightly they started to hurt. Your lips formed a wobbly line. He saw you. And the look in his eye was no kinder than it had been minutes prior.

A slow, cold smile slid on his lips. He gave you a short salute before he drove off. The exhaust fumes settled in your lungs – a promise? A warning? – and you wilted left there alone, just you and the tragedy you had recorded with your presence. A passive observer, still. You willed your limbs to move. They didn’t. What were you to do, what were you to do? You must tell someone, you must, but then again—…what if that’s not what happened? Maybe you had imagined it? It was all so quick, spinning. She could’ve been crying because of the argument, not because he hit her, and really, now, what kind of brother would hit his sister? It sounded absurd, impossible, and a small, broken laugh left the tight confines of your lips and you moved, finally, erasing this memory, purging it with every exhale.

It’s only when, that afternoon, you saw Maxine and the bruise she insisted she got when she fell from her skateboard did you realize the gravity of what you had stumbled upon—the complexity of untangling something you didn’t have the guts, nor the will, to do. So you lowered gaze and swallowed down a rush of hopeless tears. Pretended you don’t notice.

You do that often, pretend.

Pretend not to know Billy’s an abuser, pretend to mourn him during his funeral, pretend that life’s all a teenage dream and you have forever to be anything you want and love whoever you wish, pretend not to be affected by your mother’s scolding words, pretend not to notice Eddie in the hallway, pretend not to carry the weight of knowing that you could have helped Maxine but didn’t.

And you carry it, that weight, but after his death it had eased, somehow, a bit, because you knew he could no longer hurt her. You hoped he found peace he never did in this world, though that was as far as your wishes went.

You’re tired. You can’t afford anyone finding out this precious secret of yours – it’s tucked in and placed in a mental box where you store all precious keepsakes to deal with later, whenever later shall come. It’s not a new piece, but rather an old one resurfaced, expanded, from the depths it emerged slowly without your notice. Exhaustion covers everything like a blanket, like the fog covers the earth outside your window. It’s an early, pale morning; luminous grey skies and late-spring chill.

You can’t sleep. It seems that the more you want to, the less you manage. So you rest your head in your palm on the windowsill and watch the gently swaying branches, count the birds perched atop power lines. Hawkins is slumbering—the first to wake, Mrs Johnson, won’t be up for another few hours to walk her dog. Things will start turning like clockwork and eventually early morning will bleed into breakfast and shy sips of coffee and listening to the news on the radio. But for now, it’s…quiet. Peaceful. You welcome the silence, the solitude – just you and the birds.

Mornings staying up past the sunrise continue into the summer. You grow restless, like a sparrow trapped in a gilded cage. The bonds holding you back weigh heavier each day, until eventually, you attentively test the waters. Open the window, first, then stick out your hand, inhale the fresh air. Later, you could be found on the roof with a cup of tea. Later still, dressed incognito, ridding your bike down the winding roads somewhere secluded where no dog-walking, palliates-doing, newspaper-reading, white-picked-fence grill-loving, margarita-drinking neighbour would spot you.

If your parents knew where you were, how you looked, and what you were doing, you’d probably spent your summer chained to your bed and reciting Bible verses with your God-fearing mother. Her faith in you had lessened dramatically after the detention incident, and catching you sneaking around Hawkins would be the last straw. Scratch that, if she even saw you in your dad’s borrowed clothes, she’s be knocking on Heaven’s door before you could recite a prayer.

You halt and throw your bike into the bushes, not really caring if the paint is ruined by your uncaring touch. You take in the scene, the scent, the simplicity of it all. Forest Hill’s Trailer Park is the ruins of the American dream. You almost feel as if you’re trespassing on sacred ground.

The shabby, lonely trailers sit quietly; no life behind the curtains. Fluttering American flags hang on walls or rooftops. Between blades of tall grass lawn chairs are scattered about idly. But you notice small things beneath that mess: dolphin figurines by the windowsills, neat, well-cared for petunias, basketballs and footballs and children’s toys hidden in nooks and crannies, worn from love. It has character, this space—it can’t compare to your neighbourhood, the identical suburban houses and lawns and carbon-copy families.

A smoky, wooden smell lingers – from a cookout, maybe—along with the earthy, dewy scent of the fog laden forest. You wander around, enchanted by all you see, all you hear – a chorus of woodpeckers, blackbirds, thrushes, and crickets – and if only you brought your binoculars, if only. They’re perched high above, you can’t make out which is which, only guess from the shrill or lull of their voices.

In your sleepless wonder you notice something more peculiar, and it strikes you with a soberness you thought you had left in bed back home. You recognize her instantly, even from afar: the red hair, pale pout, hunched shoulders and steely hands. She’s crouching, scratching the ear of an eager pup on the other side of the fence. Maxine.

A mixture of guilt and shame and pity makes swallowing difficult. It all comes in a rush, this bitter, lonely feeling, but it wasn’t the loneliness you craved, the blend of you and all around you, a harmonious mesh, but rather an alienating, putrid vacancy, a torn hole in your heart. But when you will your limbs to move they do, and you are overcome with such a passion to talk to her that you nearly stumble.

The pup is the first to notice you, quick to yap and wag its tail and you can’t help the smile that lights up your face. Max ticks her head to the side and any softness her eyes had held prior promptly turn sharp. She frowns, gives you an once-over, ventures to look behind you. No posse in sight, just you, alone, in your shirt and shorts and untied sneakers, hair a mess and droopy eyes.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice is low but no less hard. It’s a good question, a great one, even. You have no way to explain yourself, no grand tale to weave nor impression to leave. It feels freeing, in a way.

But you know she won’t believe you if you tell the truth, at least, not now. So, you settle with, “I’ll tell you if you tell me why you’re up so early.”

Max snorts, rolls her eyes, stands up, “Yeah, whatever.” and brushes past you, veering close enough to collide with your shoulder so you’d know that she could do so if she wished.

Again, the guilt, it comes pouring out of you and you say the first thing that comes to mind, “You’re Billy’s—“ She freezes midway opening her trailer’s door, “—sister, right?” You finish awkwardly, fiddling with your fingers. She remains quiet, “I knew your brother.” You murmur. Her grip on the handle tightens, “I just wanted to say that I’m so—“

She snaps to you, and her eyes blaze with anger, “Look, thanks for the condolences, but, if you hadn’t noticed already, it’s a bit too late for that. If you want to cry over him just go to his grave—“

“He was a shitty person.” You cut her off. Her expression falls, “Sorry,” you wince, “I didn’t…mean to upset you.” You shake your head, “Just, he was. Unkind. And I’m sorry. That you had to live with him and now you have to live without him. And-and you are right, I should’ve...should’ve said it sooner. Sorry, uhm—“ You smile, a bit ditzy. It’s a go-to reaction, a trained response in face of conflict. You extend your hand, “I’m (Name). (Name) (Lastname), on the cheer team.”

She squints at you, “Yeah.” And the look she gives you implies that she thinks a lot of things about you and none of them are good, “I know.”

She doesn’t take your hand, and you subtly return it to your side. Silence hangs like the fog. After a moment of scrutinizing you, she asks, “What did he do to you?”

“Huh?”

“My brother.” She clarifies, and her voice still holds that sharp edge, but her arms cross over her chest and you recognise the motion. Discomfort. Safety. She’s protecting herself from whatever you’re about to tell her, “What did he do?”

“Oh, no, nothing. Not to me, at least.” You admit, “Just to someone I know.” Whether she knows if you’re referring to her or not you can’t tell, “One day I saw it, and, it has…never been the same, really.” You take the liberty to sit down by the pup. Lean onto the fence, pull your legs closer to your body, “He wasn’t the same with me after, too. Probably thought it’s best to keep his distance.”

Max snorts, but doesn’t move to leave or to join you, “Yeah, well,” She glances away, “he was an asshole. But he was my brother, so…” Words fail to form. Her frown deepens and she shuts her eyes, but you notice it – the flash of pain, “Just go home, (Name).”

She makes a hasty exit. You watch her go, watch the sun reflect in her hair and then in the door’s small window once it shuts behind her.

“Why are you here again?”

The question doesn’t take you off-guard, nor does Max’s harsh voice make you startle. You pull the binoculars away from your eyes and greet her with a small smile. Her approach is casual, uninterested, but you’re still glad to see her. You point at the object in your hand, “Spying.”

Her nose scrunches, “Ew.” She looks up, “On what?”

“Birds.”

“What?”

“Birds.”

“You like bird-watching?” She sounds exasperated, though amused, “You?”

You shrug, “Yeah.” It’s your first time admitting it aloud, and it sounds a bit quiet, a bit uncertain, so you try again, “Yeah, I do. A lot, actually. That’s why I come here often. You have a lot of nice trees.”

She rolls her eyes, “For a fire, maybe. Give them to me.” You pass the binoculars and soon she’s thoroughly engrossed in spying on a nest of chaffinches, “And?”

“And what?”

“You just look at them?” She asks as she takes the binoculars off.

You blink, as if it was obvious, “Yeah. It’s in the name, Sherlock.”

Max doesn’t say anything, but you do notice the smile she tries her best keeping at bay, “That’s lame. You’re kinda a loser, you know.”

You grin, “Kinda, yeah, I am, aren’t I?”

Natures wonders are momentarily forgotten as you note a far-off figure staggering into his trailer. You recognise him by his hair, wild curly locks making a better nest than chaffinches could ever hope create. Eddie.

“He’s harmless.” Max says, mistaking your surprise for fear. You are both glad she cares enough to reassure you and disappointed that she has to in the first place. He really is infamous, even if he is—was—a sweetheart. Real asshole, though, and to be fair, you’re still sore about that whole ordeal, even if it’s been a few months already. It keeps replaying in your mind like a broken record – the euphoric rush of the kiss and the soft, secret sound of the closing door. The darkness. The fluorescent hallway lights. It was a painful memory. It was one of the best ones you have.

“I know.” You utter softly. Harmless, but not entirely, still, “Kinda a dick, though.”

Max laughs-it’s a wheeze sound, pushed past her lips, unexpected. Wide eyes stare at you, “I mean, yeah,” She nods, “he’s kinda a show-off and I can hear his guitar all the way from my bedroom but, like, how would you know?”

You narrow your eyes at her playfully, “What? You think I don’t get myself into enough trouble to know?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure that you do.”

“I’ve had detention.” You counter.

“Wow, impressive.” She doesn’t sound all that impressed, “Must’ve been your first one.”

It was, but she doesn’t need to know. You decide it’s apt time to change subject, “Max,” She blinks when you call her—maybe she figured you didn’t know her name, “why aren’t you sleeping? It’s like, five in the morning, or something ungodly like that. And it’s summer.”

“You’re literally awake, too.”

You point at the binoculars, “Because I’m busy.” She snorts. You continue, “So…What are you doing up so early again?”

There’s a pause. You can practically see the gears in her head turning. Then, her arms cross over her chest and her gaze wanders somewhere in Eddie’s direction, and you half-expect her to name him as the reason, “Just…can’t sleep.” She clears her throat, “Shitty bed.” She flashes you a smile, “Mr Sany wakes up at around five thirty, so you better leave before he spots you if you don’t want to be seen.”

There’s a little buzz – by the flowers, in your heart – and a quiver in your hand. You smile with a small exhale, “Thanks, Max. I’ll, I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks.”

She just shrugs in response, but doesn’t make her exit. She lingers, and when you return to watching the birds, she keeps you company in silence. Watches the passing clouds with an unreadable expression, and when you feel like sharing a cool bird fact, you do. She doesn’t complain about it, doesn’t praise you for divulging precious information, either.

But she’s receptive, and when you glance at her she gives you a small, kind smile.

You can’t phantom how anyone could hurt her. Don’t want to imagine that ever happening, that ever being a possibility again.

Half of the summer has drifted by. You see Eddie from time to time, either smoking in his yard or going in or out the trailer, but he doesn’t seem to notice you. Perhaps that’s for the better—what would he even say if he saw you with Max, what would you say in return? You try not to think of it. Nothing good ever comes from rummaging around that box, you prefer keeping the lid shut.

The trees compress the heat. Found somewhere in the labyrinth of the forest, you lean next to a sturdy branch and give Maxine idle pointers. In the kaleidoscopic light she seems to tremble slightly; sun bunnies reflect from her braided hair, the barrel of your father’s gun.

It was a throw-away idea, born of lack of sleep and curiosity. You had asked her if she knew how to shoot, if she’d ever been hunting, and she said that no, never, she doesn’t like to inflict harm onto others, especially those smaller than her. You understood that sentiment, and in a way you were happy no one in her family forced her to shoot a rabbit through bleary vision and quivering hands.

But Maxine admitted that it may be helpful to learn how to at least hold a pistol properly, so you snagged your dad’s from his study. Took out the bullets and kept them in your pocket—it’s harmless without ammunition, just something one can strike another. But it’s still heavy, and Maxine is still anxious holding it, tense and worried and she reminds you so much of yourself that it’s painful.

You imagine you had looked the same when your dad had taught you so many years ago; imagine that anxiety clouded your eyes just as it clouds Max’s.

“You’re doing great.” You encourage, softly, afraid to startle her. You want to ease her, comfort her in a way—something your father never did when he supervised. No, his imposing presence made the whole ordeal unbearable, “Just…Breathe. Hold it a bit closer, bend your arms or they’ll get tired. Maxine.”

“What?”

“Breathe.” You chuckle at her sour expression, “It’s not gonna fire even if you accidentally press down the trigger. I took out the bullets.”

She spins in your direction, though lowers the gun still, “You gave me a gun with no bullets?”

You shrug, “Yeah, I mean…Why would we need them? Is someone gonna attack us in the woods?”

“No, I guess…” She mutters. Her gaze bores into the object in her grasp, and she is so clearly uncomfortable that it makes your stomach twist. She shakes her head, softly at first, then a bit more firm. Gently places the gun on the leaf covered ground and slowly backs away from it, “I…it’s not form me.” The fright in her face is quickly replaced by a hardened, defensive gleam, “I can’t do it. I don’t want to.”

You can’t help the smile that pulls on the corners of your lips, nor the pride that erupts in your chest. In a casually step, you approach the weapon, pick it up, tug it into your waistband like some sort of a villain from a movie, “Always knew you were a lover, not a fighter.”

She grins, “Shut up.”

You laugh, and that laugher echoes all the way to the tree tops. The morning rolls onward, cloud by cloud. Gradually, you make your way out of the forest.

“So…” Max speaks up after a moment of silence, “What’s the deal with you and Munson?”

“What do you mean?”

“I see you glaring at his trailer, you know.” She says. Really, what a perceptive insomniac she is. You refrain from providing an answer, “So…Are you gonna tell me or am I to assume something on my own?” She smiling, and a smile suits her much more than a frown. She seems to be enjoying herself in her plight of mischief, and you can’t help but giggle a bit at just how nosy she can actually be.

Like a little sister, if you had one. You never did, but always wanted someone closer in age in a house that was sometimes unwelcoming.

“Let’s just say…It’s bit of a long story.”

“I have time.” She insists.

“Well, I, for one, don’t.” You grin, “Gotta run home before my secret’s exposed. But, it’s no big deal, really. Just…” Stopping by your bike, laying the those same bushes you always lay it to rest till you return, you hum, “Just…something stupid. Like, really stupid, not even worth mentioning. Stuff just…happened.”

“Did he do something dumb?” She raises a brow.

Picking up your bike, you confirm, “Yeah, kinda, but, like, I’m at fault too, you know? It’s weird. It doesn’t matter.”

“Well, if you decide that you wanna kill him or something, let me know.” She says, “I’ll help you bury the body.”

You laugh, “Thanks, Max, I-I will think about that. See you tomorrow?”

“Same time, same place.”

Like a little sister, indeed, and you want to give her a hug, but your relationship is too new, too fragile, and you’re afraid of shattering what has not yet fully formed. So you just smile, and you hope that you show all of your affection through it before you ride off. She watches you go, and when you turn your head back she waves.

How could anyone hurt her? Why would anyone hurt her?

You think that you would shoot anyone before they had a chance to raise their hand before her. Never again. No longer a passive observer, you’d intervene this time. She doesn’t deserve that pain. No one does.

see ya in the last part babes mwah xoxo

#stranger things #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie x you #max mayfield #max mayfield x reader #imagine #imagines #reader #reader insert #xreader #angst #fluff #agnostic #summer snapshots

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