#worst week of Neil’s life

[vonn13]

If the foxes went to summer camp as kids

So I was a camp councilor at a summer camp that had a mix of special need kids (autism, adhd, odd etc.) with kids from foster care and families that aren't well off.

Let me tell you these kids are wild and here are some of the things they did which I feel like our foxes would do as well.

Neil would definitely kidnap a bunch of frogs from a bog and hide them in hair like my menaces did. The kid that inspired this also had a blonde little partner in crime, so there you got it. Andreil as kids would've kidnapped frogs and given them ridiculous names.

Kevin would've become so depressed after losing at a game he'd grab a stick and draw in the sand. Then a kid wouldn't see his drawing and accidentally step on a single line (cough Allison cough) and boy would be bursting into tears and gesture at the sand and pretend stab himself with his stick.

Kevin would've also been such a dramatic bitch that when one of the kids rough house a bit with them he'd burst into tears and turn red in the face as he dramatically acted out every single thing that happened to him. This includes slapping himself in the face and choking himself out while the councilors just look on tired as hell.

Matt would be trying to ply extra ice cream from camp councilors in the middle of the night by walking out of the hut with his plushie while they were discussing the day and then rant about how pretty the stars are. He'd actually manage to talk quite some time while the councilors just wanted to cry, but had to be nice despite it being 1am.

Andrew stashes a pile of candy under his pillow on the first night knowing he isn't sleek but not giving a fuck and tosses the wrappers on the ground to annoy his roommates.

On the last night the councilors give the kids as much candy/food as possible so they'll sugar crash. Matt fell asleep on a pile of chicken nuggets.

Aaron got really into building a tower of sticks and marshmallows and sabotaged other teams (cough Neil cough) by kicking a football at them, yet somehow hitting his own tower in devastation.

Neil 'accidentally' tied Matt up to a wooden post and left him to fend for himself.

Aaron gets so pissed of at Seth at some point he tells Seth that he hopes he becomes infertile as he kicks him in the nuts and runs away like his life was on the line (it was)

Allison would be one of those girls that tell the councillors every bit of gossip there is and puts campers against each other by spreading all these rumors just for fun.

Neil stole the matches from an activity and sleeps with them in his sleeping bag. The councilors only found out on the last day they were dealing with a pyromaniac who had the means to an end when they were helping him clear up his bag.

Neil is somehow one of those wild kids that just knows their way around everywhere, so he can't possibly get lost in the woods.

Nicky does get lost in the woods and would just want his ipad or something nonstop.

Neil runs away every time he's about to get medicated for the day and dan helps chase him down because she can't handle hyperactive Neil without his meds (I could see him having adhd maybe and Andrew as autistic)

Andreil would be one of those camp couples that somehow are in a relationship when they've known each other for less than a week and are like fucking toddlers. They're disgustingly cute and give each other dumb nicknames and exchange phone numbers. They definitely changed their profile pics to a selfie of the two of them together and will get mercilessly bullied by their guardians.

#aftg #andrew minyard #neil josten #all for the game #andreil #the foxhole court #Worst yet best week of my life was being a camp councilor #Had a mental breakdown and ran into the woods to cry #matt boyd #aaron minyard #kevin day

[neil-gaiman]

Not an ask, just a thank you. Really enjoyed spending time with you yesterday at NJPAC. It was an early Christmas present for my husband and he didn't know where we were going until we got in the car yesterday morning (we live in South Jersey across from Philadelphia). He was so excited when I showed him the tickets on my phone. The sincere and often hilarious way you answered our questions and the thoughtful selections of the stories you read (Donna will live with me forever) made for a wonderful afternoon. My favorite story was about the dinner party and Armistead Maupin, it was so cool to hear a new favorite author (yes, my husband Jim and I are late comers to the magic - though I did read Good Omens way back in the day - but we're making up for lost time) speak so lovingly of an all time favorite author (I worked in book shops for about a decade and Tales of the City was always the first book I suggested to the baby gays venturing into the world of queer literature). Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you. It as been a tough year for us, perhaps the worst in our 38 years together, as I was forced out of my job of 20 years last fall and 60 is a tough age to find work (I just got a new job a couple weeks ago thanks to a dear friend) so to hear Jim say twice yesterday that it was "one of the happiest days of my life" really brought joy to my soul. You are henceforth my Angel of Joy, Neil. Peace, joy, and long life to you and yours. Mike Kiley-Zufelt

That means a lot. And I'd recommend Armistead Maupin to everyone.

[californiaboytoybilly]

Billy, who has only ever known a life of ‘use or be used’ comes to Hawkins, Indiana with exactly one plan.

To get the fuck back out.

But see, the problem is that that takes money. Money he definitely doesn’t have.

The first night in his new room, he doesn’t bother to unpack. No, he sits on the floor by his bare mattress and he plots.

It’s not worth the risk trying to steal from Neil. Can’t escape this shithole if he’s fucking dead. Getting a job and actually managing to keep the money without his father finding out would be… difficult.

Bored housewives would probably be willing to shell out gifts for the privilege of a quick fuck to forget their balding, miserable husbands. It wasn’t much, but it was a thought to consider.

He leaves that half finished plan open in his brain when he goes to his first day at Hawkins High, only to have the page ripped up and burned at the first sight of one Steve Harrington.

Bored and- seemingly- apathetic pretty boy with absent parents and a big house. Considerably more his type than some desperate midwest housewife with sickly sweet perfume and a simpering voice.

And clearly rich.

By the second week of classes, Billy has caught Steve’s eyes lingering on him a few too many times.

So starts what would become both the only thing that mattered to him, and the worst thing he’d ever do.

His usual charm doesn’t work on Steve, so he goes the other way. Taunts him, a bully pulling on his pigtails until one day Steve snaps and kisses him behind the gym until Billy almost forgets why he’s doing this entirely.

At first, he feels no guilt in it. They don’t talk feelings, it’s just good fucking sex and Steve apparently loves to give gifts.

Gifts that are too thoughtful. Too knowing.

First aid supplies. Clothes. Buying him expensive dinners to make up for the nights Billy was sent to his room without a bite to eat the entire day, even if he didn’t know that.

Billy starts to become more aware of his plan as the days, then months slip by. He thinks of all the times Steve has given him money for gas or other things, how Billy has lied to him. How all that money is stashed away, just waiting for a chance that he can disappear into the night like an asshole outlaw.

Steve becomes his boyfriend and the guilt sits heavy and sticky in his gut. He starts to second guess what he’s been doing.

Billy doesn’t say he’s in love, not even when Steve does. He knows he is- has fought against it with every fibre of his being the whole fucked up way down- but he can’t bring himself to say it when his escape is on the horizon.

He comforts himself by telling himself Steve will forget about him. Move on and marry some docile stay-at-home wife who wouldn’t push his buttons the way Billy did.

But then, late one night, Steve says it again while he’s pressing Billy down into the mattress. And Billy- emotionally taken apart by a particularly bad day at home- crumbles. His eyes fill with tears and he says it back in a fit of weakness. The first time he’s ever said those words to someone.

I love you too.

That’s when his plan starts to fall apart. It’s become annoyingly apparent that he can’t escape this. Doesn’t want to. Steve has become his escape.

So even though it feels like pulling teeth, he starts to empty his stash. He buys Steve gifts now, because spending it on him makes him feel less vile. Takes Steve out on dates.

He finally feels a sense of relief when it’s gone, even if he says goodbye to California mournfully in the same thought.

It’s easier to be around Steve after that, even if a trace of the guilt always lingers. Easier to say he loves him when he isn’t constantly ready to say goodbye. Easier to open up to him.

He finally tells Steve the truth about Neil, and the first thing Steve does is offer him a place in his home if he needs to run.

Billy loves him. He feels free for the first time in his life. He’s happy.

And that’s when Steve finds out the truth.

#billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #billy x steve #billy antis dni #billy hargrove deserves better #minor angst #miscommunication #harringrove ficlet #steve x billy #🌌 — a s t e r #🌌 — w r i t i n g

[queers-gambit]

Talk Shit, Get Hit

prompt: ( requested ) your high school bully picks the wrong day to taunt you and it's up to an equally hotheaded Billy to calm you down. call it irony.

pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!reader characters are ALL aged 18 years old

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

word count: 5.4k+

note: the reader is aggressive. the reader is violent. the reader’s hands are rated ‘E’ for Everyone.

warnings: you know the drill: author projects instead of going to therapy and uses personal experience as details. there's physical violence, aggressive reader, depiction of shitty home life / toxic family, (somewhat severe) abusive alcoholic parent, parental abandonment, cursing, bullying, Jason Carver's sister is the bully, injury and blood. cursing, threats, brief cigarette and illicit material use (marijuana / weed), i guess this is hurt and comfort, angst, we talk about Billy's abuse with Neil, too, and kinda abrupt ending.

PLEASE NOTE -

this fic will depict parental abuse, both emotional and physical. this fic will discuss an alcoholic parent. this fic will detail physical violence BY the reader.

DO NOT engage if any of these topics potentially trigger you. you will miss nothing if you decide to skip. author implores readers to value and prioritize their own comfort and mental health.

Of all the days Brittany Carver could've chosen, she picked the worst day imaginable to bully you - being akin to a ticking time bomb. To your immense surprise, she'd laid off that entire week, focused on the "big" cheerleading competition she was leading Hawkins High to victory in. It left her no energy to engage in her favorite past time of tormenting you; figuring that after 6 years of her brutal behavior, she had grown up and lost interest. You weren't someone who people bullied easily, but this thing with Brittany, it was some kind of twisted pissing contest; competition brewing in elementary school that boiled over during middle school and now lasted into high school.

However, God seemed to have a sick sense of humor because on the week your bully had temporarily forgotten your existence, things at home had escalated to a new height not previously known. It was true what they said: if it wasn't one thing, it was another.

The entire week, your mother had only been sober for - well - none of it. She was found morning, noon, and night slumped over in various locations around your home with different bottles of liquor in her grip. The house grew messier each day, a direct result of a checked-out parent refusing to do any chore and destructive little monsters that took form as your twin little brothers. You couldn't keep up, playing mother, sister, housewife, personal maid, and full-time student all at once; pushing your stress levels higher, making you bitter and short tempered. The times your mother was conscious, which was typically to find a new bottle of alcohol, she was a right nasty fuck.

Her bark matched her bite; not only yelling at you, belittling you, and gaslighting you - but also using physical aggression to "teach you a lesson" for being "disorderly" or "a waste of semen" - and yes, that is a direct quote. Her hands were dainty from malnourishment, bulging veins prominent, and despite your father abandoning the family ages go, she still wore her diamond wedding ring that left small cuts wherever she struck you. The times she wasn't sober enough to really "get" you, she put out cigarettes on your arms and thighs; leaving tiny, circular burn scars you coated in Neosporin. She’s been known to break a few wooden cooking spoons over your head, steal the money made from babysitting, even cashed-in your inheritance - pawning all of your dead grandmother’s jewelry. There were plenty of other examples, but dwelling on those instances wouldn't change the past or alter your future, so you stuffed them way deep down in your soul.

Naturally, you didn't say a Goddamn thing; under the impression that everyone had shitty family members they tolerated and that your home life was normal enough to not report to the police. You didn't know any better, you didn't know that your mother downing fifths of alcohol daily was cause for concern. You didn't know that abuse wasn't the standard - emotional or physical. It took years for you to learn that love wasn't supposed to hurt, that love wasn't supposed to scare you, that love wasn't selfish, that your mother didn't actually love you. It took years to convince yourself that you were worthy of love and acceptance, never receiving it from your mother - not knowing you could get it from anyone else.

And then, William fucking Hargrove - or Billy - breezed into your small hometown with a sweet denim-clad ass, golden, curly mullet, and a bad fucking attitude that rivaled your own.

It was a match made in heaven. Or hell.

You both suffered at the hands of your parental figures, turning abrasive and foul-mouthed as defense mechanisms. You and Billy developed hardened exteriors in an effort to protect your soft insides, and when you met officially, it was as if you two could see past that hard shell - straight through the bullshit. You recognized much of the same in one another - like looking in a mirror - and grew impossibly close in an incredibly short amount of time; grateful to have a second half who understood without ever needing explanation.

He just got you. Able to identify common threads between you. Billy understood you, having more empathy than you thought he could muster. He protected you. He loved you. He took care of you - and you did the exact same, considering you two were cut from the same cloth; wanting to assure him he was just as worthy of love as you.

Billy was known around Hawkins for being a womanizing jock with anger issues, and yet, when you finally agreed to go on a date with him, he never even looked at another girl twice. He felt as if dating his best friend, understanding that nobody else would truly understand him the way you do - so he did what he could to keep you.

He did his best to defend you, but there was only so many tangible things the star basketball player could protect you from. Gossip and petty cheerleaders, prime examples. Yet Billy still tried, even taking the liberty to confront Brittany's brother, Jason Carver, about leaving you alone. Unfortunately, it was as if Billy's concern spurred on the cheerleader's bullying, calling you pathetic for hiding behind a man and sending him to fight your battles. You told Billy to stay out of it, that you could handle the situation by yourself, that he would just make the situation much more sticky.

So he did. Billy backed off, letting you deal with the situation as best you deemed; offering his support in return, being a shoulder to cry on for the days your frustration peaked.

That entire week Brittany didn't bully you had been extraordinarily tiresome due to your mother's abuse, wanting to confide in Billy but refraining when you rationalized not bringing him into your bullshit. He had enough of his own. So, while, yes, it was a comfort to have him on your side, you never indulged Billy on the woes of your life. He was meant to be your escape, not your savior; the burden of shouldering your abuse while enduring his own feeling terribly unfair.

You kept quiet, even though you were silently begging for someone to save you. Yet you weren't a damsel, there was no Prince Charming, brave knight, chosen champion to slay the dragons terrorizing you.

However, your boyfriend was much more intuitive than you realized. You always prided yourself on your acting skills, convincing everyone around you that you were indifferent to your mother's temperament, even when showing up at school with a casted wrist, black eye, and split bottom lip. Turns out, parents in Hawkins gossiped much more than the kids, and soon, it felt like the entire town knew about your abusive alcoholic mother and runaway father. Nobody did anything to help you, they just tiptoed around the knowledge and stared at your injuries. Brittany Carver was the only person stupid enough to make the mistake of weaponizing your home situation.

It was a tepid spring afternoon, the sun peaking through the clouds and the first flowers sprouting from the thawing ground. The bell rang to dismiss for lunch, the hallways filled with mingling and milling students all grateful for the midday break. Some gathered in gaggles of friends, some headed directly for the cafeteria, and others, like you, utilized the time to exchange morning class books for afternoon materials. Your fractured wrist had long since healed, but there was a long, straight scar present as a result from the surgery you required; currently, a scabbing cut over your eyebrow, lips stinging from where the flesh split, with a collection of bruises turning different colors to represent various healing stages.

Today simply hadn't been your day.

After a week of constant alcohol-fueled battery, you felt your frustrations finally crescendo after being assigned 3 separate essays; doubling your stress, shortening your fuse, and creating heavy leaded dread as the minutes ticked by. Everyone else felt giddy for the spring-tastic weekend, wanting time to go faster so they could go home - but not you. You might've been the one teenager in the city - no, no, the county - no, wait! The state - WAIT, NO... The country, who didn't want to leave school. You didn't want the day to end and be forced out of your safety zone; anxiety twisting your stomach and prickling your skin at the thought of returning home.

Truthfully, you spent several nights a week at Billy's, being snuck in through his window; feeling unsafe in your own home and wanting to remain close without voicing your need for his proximity. You felt stronger with Billy, as if you could take on the world; as if your safety and wellbeing were (finally) a real priority. He took great pride in being that safe haven for you, thinking it a nice change of pace as he often never seized opportunities to prove himself compassionate and caring. Billy was known for being a brute, someone aggressive and commandeering; nobody associating "safety" with him - except you.

However, this wasn't one of those weekends you'd be able to sneak out, being forced into caring for your two wee brothers; them needing you, dependent on you, relying on the care and love you provide them.

As a result of your shitty week, you had been a right, foul bitch to those unfortunate enough to engage you. Being well aware of your attitude, you tried to avoid everyone, not wanting to lash out at innocent peers - labeling yourself a bitch because of your impeccable self-awareness. Though, no matter the labels you assigned, you simply couldn't rein your emotions into check given your anxiety over returning home overpowered your brain.

Knowing you'd be forced to defend yourself against your own mother set your teeth on edge, projecting your horrible mood onto anyone in your vicinity - making most keep their distance.

Keyword: most.

Much like her brother, captain of the basketball team, Jason Carver, Brittany Carver wasn't the brightest bulb of the bunch. She never picked up hints, she didn't bother reading the room or in-between any lines; she held little to no regard for those around her or their emotional state. Brittany just wanted to assert herself as Queen Bee and thought the best way to achieve that was by bullying those she deemed lesser then she. It gave her a power trip, made her feel swollen with importance, boosting her ego because in her mind, she'd rather be feared than loved.

Brittany was dressed in her pretty, pressed, and bright cheer uniform; her obnoxiously blonde hair tied in a high ponytail that swished dramatically with each step. She wore cherry flavored lip gloss, her make-up caked, skirt hiked higher than school regulation permitted because she suckled at the teat for attention - good or bad.

You heard the second bell ring and finished shoving books in your locker, trying to stuff notebooks in your bag when your locker was suddenly violently slammed shut. Flinching at the quick movement and aggressive bang, you glared at whoever dared interrupt you; a manicured hand flat on the metal to keep the locker closed.

"The fuck you want, Brittany?"

"Awh, someone's already got their panties in a twist," she mocked, two of her cronies giggling their support. "C'mon, babe, I was just stopping by to say hello - missed you this week!"

"Oh, for sure," you sneered in a sickly-sweet tone, "of course you missed me, your life is so much more boring without me in it, huh? Wow, seriously, Brittany, I'm flattered to be the main character in your life, too."

Her eyes rolled and one of the other cheerleaders at her flank, Jennifer, popped flavorless gum. "I'm surprised you still have this level of spunk and cheek to talk like that, would've thought Mommy Dearest beat it out of you by now - she hits you often enough, right? Doesn't she? Hmm, well, maybe she needs to hit you a little harder."

"Excuse me?" You snapped.

"You heard me!" She laughed. "Obviously your mom isn't teaching you any lessons since you still have this whole emo-attitude going on. But I can't say I blame her, you're such a bitch - I'd smack the shit outta you, too."

You nodded slowly, not realizing several students had paused themselves to watch the exchange; knowing this was a longtime coming and didn't want to miss the inevitable drama. Dropping your backpack, you asked, "You sure? You really wanna hit me?"

"Is it that hard to believe? I mean," she smirked, "your own mother does - of course, I do, too. Like, seriously, it's not a secret why she hits you - just look at you! No wonder she hates you, you're just a waste of space, resources, and money. Damn shame Billy doesn't see it yet, but don't worry, he will." She laughed again, "He'll get tired of reopening your lip every time you kiss. It's so pathetic and ugly, he'll start to crave what you can't offer. I mean, seriously, what guy with any self-respect wants to date a girl as broken as you?"

"Know what, Brittany?" You growled, balling your fists at your side. "I'll give you one free hit."

"Excuse me, what?"

"Yeah," your head nodded, "go ahead. One free, clean shot. Hit me if you want to so bad, but you'll only get just this one shot."

Her eyes rolled, "I don't need to, your mom's got that covered."

"Free hit, Brit," you taunted, gesturing, "c'mon, go 'head, lemme have it. Since I'm so insufferable, go right ahead - get your clean hit."

Jennifer and Jasmine shared strange looks, the latter nudging, "Just do it, Brittany, shut this stupid bitch the hell up."

"Yeah, Brittany, shut me the hell up."

She looked to her little goons with a smirk, shrugged and handing over her backpack. When Brittany turned again, she dramatically wound her arm back and used her full strength to swing her fist into your cheek; only making your head turn a fraction from impact. You hummed and nodded, the cheerleader laughing with her girls as if she had "shown you" - but her amusement died when she noticed you barely reacted.

You smirked, cracking your neck, "My turn!"

Your knuckle cracked the bridge of the cheerleader's nose - sick sound of a snap ringing in your ears and jolting the girl's head backwards; momentum forcing her to stumble. Brittany shrieked in pain, holding her nose, unable to defend herself as you launched your attack; first slamming her back into the lockers before jabbing your fist into any vulnerable spot you could.

Similar to the movies, you held Brittany by her hair to keep her in place; wailing your punches repeatedly, each hit making Britt bang into the lockers. Jennifer and Jasmine tried to pull you away but both earned their own punches or elbows to the face for the interference. You focused on Brittany, instantly curating a flock of students all eager to watch.

"FIIIIIIGHT!"

"GIRL FIGHT!"

"BEAT HER ASS, Y/N!"

Brittany sobbed as blood dribbled down her front, staining her pretty uniform, but you were just getting started. The hallway turned noisy, a circle forming around you four as all three cheerleaders were staved off; you running on pure anger, adrenaline, and overflowing frustration that encouraged your foot to kick Britt's gut. You'd never admit it, but Brittany's mocking had hurt you past words, made you feel vulnerable, disarmed, as if you were damaged, undeserving goods. With each punch or kick or stomp, you remembered a different instance of your mother's abuse, seeing her face instead of Brittany's; spurring you on with unrestrained force.

In the parking lot, Billy was leaning on his car with a few teammates from the basketball team and enjoying a hearty nicotine-filled break. Though they'd never label it as such, the boys exchanged idle gossip; listening to Conrad Jones detail his latest conquest, sneering about how "easy" Kennedy Stephens was. They were interrupted when Kyle Lambert sprinted up to them, sneakers skidding over asphalt, panting dramatically, "Billy! Billy! Y-You gotta come see this, man! You gotta help!"

"What?" He asked, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"I-It's your girl - it's Y/N!"

He pushed off his car that was supporting his weight, demanding, "What about her?"

"You gotta come quick, man, you gotta see this! It's fucking wild! Brittany, Jennifer, and Jasmine tried jumping her - "

Billy was surging across the carpark instantly, tossing his cigarette away before yanking the school doors open. He was instantly greeted by the chaotic sight and sounds of a fight, peers gathered in a large circle; screaming their support and hollering encouragement.

"Billy! Oh, thank God!!" Chrissy Cunningham cried, waving him closer. "You have to help! You have to do something, it's 3-on-1!"

He didn't acknowledge the strawberry blonde, just started instantly shoving through the crowd to reach the edge of the fight. It wasn't the sight he was anticipating - fearing the worst, now pleasantly surprised (and a little turned on).

Blood was splattered on the linoleum floors, a single streak smeared on the lockers. Jennifer was left on the ground with her back against the metal, sporting a busted lip as Jasmine was trying to coax her to her feet - sporting a ruddy face and disheveled look. Left in the center, to the entertainment of the crowd, was you on top of Brittany Carver, heaving your fist time and again into her face.

"Shit," he breathed, intending to step forward to stop the fight but needing to shove Tommy H. out of his way when he stepped forward.

"C'mon, man! It's a girl fight! Don't break it up!" Tommy begged, but Billy bullied through.

"All right, that's enough," he grunted, wrapping his arms around your middle and heaving you up and back a step - needing to engage his core and arms when you wriggled in an effort to free yourself. "Hey, hey, hey - "

"Lemme go! This bitch needs put in the ground!"

"Jesus Christ, when did you get this strong?" He grunted, your feet slipping on blood but still being restrained by your boyfriend's impressive strength.

"Talk your shit again, bitch!" You barked at Brittany, who was sobbing in pain and curling into herself. "Lemme hear you say another Goddamn word, you'll need more than another nose job! Fake ass, plastic bitch!"

Jason joined the center and knelt at his sister's side, helping her sit up, glaring at you and Billy. Your boyfriend grit his teeth when Jason snarled, "You need to muzzle your bitch, Billy!"

"I'll fuck you up for talkin' about her like that, Carver, don't provoke me. Watch yourself," Billy snapped in warning, successfully managing to get you behind him.

However, you dodged around him with only enough time to spit hatefully on Brittany, warning, "You wanna talk shit, you'll get hit! Don't let me hear you again - don't you ever dare say another word about my mama! I'll put you in the ground, bitch, fucking try me! I dare you! Try me again, say shit about my mama, and see what the fuck I do!"

"All right, all right, you made your point," Billy stiffly told you, pulling you away by force to avoid you actually killing Brittany. He got a look at her injuries, thinking there must've been more than a broken nose from the way her uniform was stained and her entire face bloodied. "C'mon, we gotta get outta here, come with me - c'mon, baby, you can't touch her anymore, you made your point, you'll end up killin' her or some shit," he panted, shoving through the crowd and effectively ending the fight.

Billy didn't let go of your form until finally outside - letting you rip yourself away as your blood boiled, adrenaline making you much stronger. He watched you pace; huffing, puffing, seething, all but gnashing your teeth hatefully. "That fucking bitch had it coming, Bee, it was self defense!" You finally explained.

"Oh, yeah, princess, totally looked like it," he scoffed, blocking the doors in case you tried to go back. He lit another cigarette.

"It was, you condescending asshole!" You snapped, eyes ablaze and anger tangible. "She approached me, she ran her mouth, and she hit me first!"

"Well," he sighed, "whatever the reason, it's not worth jail time for beating her to death."

"Might be."

"Ain't nothing worth throwing your life away," he offered you the cigarette, but you refused. "Why don't you just tell me what happened? What'd she say?"

"It doesn't matter, Billy."

"I think it matters when she looks like she's gonna need a blood transfusion to replenish what she's lost."

"Whatever - let it be a lesson that you shouldn't throw stones if you're scared of a boulder."

Billy sighed, smoke blown from his mouth, "C'mon, doll, tell me what happened?"

"Doesn't matter, it's done, it's over, it's in the past."

"Baby, I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

"You can't help, period, Billy! There's nothing you can do!"

"Well, you're not even letting me try!"

"'Cause it's redundant!"

"Obviously not when you look like a raging bull!"

Your eyes rolled, head shaking, "I handled it."

"I saw," he scoffed. "So, 3-on-1? How'd that happen?"

"I told you, they approached me."

"Well, I'm gonna need a little more to go on. C'mon, pretty girl, the fuck just happened? You know you can get suspended!" This made you freeze, muscles clamming up, looking purely petrified as if the thought hadn't occurred to you. "I know you don't want that, but if you talk to me, maybe I can help lessen whatever punishment."

"Oh, whatever, like I care about being punished," you snipped, hands twisting together - telling Billy you were beginning to get anxious.

"I think you do, it'd put you in the house with your mom alone," he trailed, pushing away from the doors to approach you like a baby deer. "C'mon, I know you don't wanna get suspended, so just tell me what happened."

"I'm sure you'll hear all about it from your little basketball buddies."

"I don't fucking care!" He snapped with the cigarette trapped and bobbing between his lips, making you look at him in mild shock. "There's gonna be a hundred different rumors, whole fuckin' school watched you beat the shit outta those girls - but I only care about what you have to say."

"There's no point - "

"Oh, Jesus Christ," he growled, snatching the cig between his knuckles, "I just saw three bitches on the ground, all injured, beaten up, bleeding - so stop being so Goddamn stubborn and just tell me! I'm tryna help you!"

"You pulled me off of her, you've helped plenty."

"I'd like to understand how this happened."

"It won't change anything."

"No, it won't, but you have a side to the story. Tell me what went wrong? What happened?"

You sighed, no longer pacing, planting both hands on your hips. Your head shook as Billy tossed the filtered cigarette butt aside, muttering when he exhaled the last of the smoke, "It seems so stupid now."

"Hey," he soothed, crowding into your space and taking one of your hands in his. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it wasn't stupid. You're forgetting, I know well enough to understand you wouldn't throw a punch unless absolutely necessary. Whatever got you riled up like that ain't stupid, sweetheart."

Like a glazed donut, your eyes turned glassy. Billy frowned and took your other hand off your hip, forcing your attention on him. "I swear, I didn't start it," you whispered.

"Only matters that you finished it," he smirked. "Tell me, what the fuck was all that?"

You sighed deeply, offering meekly, "Guess they had it comin'..."

"I know they did," Billy chuckled. "Nobody's that stupid to provoke you, except Brittany."

"I was at my locker... They approached and slammed it shut."

"Right, okay..."

"There were words exchanged, but Brittany, she - " You paused, swallowing thickly, "she started talkin' shit about my mom, about, you know, what she does..."

Billy understood instantly. "You fuckin' serious?" He growled, seeing you nod and fill him in on what was said - unable to look him in the eye as you relived your anger. By the end, you were trembling in emotion and adrenaline loss, Billy sighing deeply and yanking you into his chest for a tight embrace. "All right, yeah," he mumbled, "should've put them bitches in the ground."

"And now," you sniffled, "I'm gonna get suspended, forced to stay home with Ma all next week."

"We'll get you outta it."

"Can't, the school doesn't tolerate fighting on school grounds."

"You said she swung first?"

"Technically, yes. I might've - allegedly - prompted her into it."

"It's still selfdefense, toots, no matter what you or anyone said - if she swung first and hit you, you were only defending yourself."

You shrugged, resting on his chest, "You see the damage? Admin won't care who swung first - not when they're beat to shit."

"Yeah, there's my li'l hothead," he smirked, chuckling slightly before pecking the top of your head. "But you gotta admit, it's impressive how you took on all three."

"I guess, doesn't exactly feel like an accomplishment."

"Nah, princess, seriously," he pulled you back to look at him again, "that's fuckin' hot. I mean, they approached you and still got their asses handed to 'em. That's straight skill."

"Or just a lot of anger with nowhere to go," you frowned. "Think I should go find admin?"

"Nah, they'll probably find you - "

The doors opened and your name was called, the principal's secretary waving you to her. "Fuck," you whispered, releasing Billy.

"I'll come with you," he promised, lacing your fingers together when he took your hand. Billy had to admit, it was a little weird being in the principal's office but not being the one in trouble; waiting without patience in a fraying chair, picking at the exposed stuffing with his leg bouncing. He'd been there 45 minutes, skipping the last half of classes, just waiting as you were behind a closed door with the principal, vice principal, and the disciplinary officer.

He looked up when the school nurse lead Brittany, Jennifer, and Jasmine inside - glaring at them but admiring the scattering of cuts and bruises with dried blood on their precious uniforms. A few minutes later, you were exiting the office with a passive and neutral expression settled on your face. Your lip curled only slightly when you clocked the cheerleaders - hating how smug they all looked - approaching Billy instantly.

"You all right?" He checked, standing and adjusting his jeans.

"Mhm," you nodded, keeping your voice low as the principal called the three cheerleaders into his office. You waited until the door was closed, then informed with a smirk, "I'm not suspended."

"No?"

"Nope," you confirmed. "Apparently, they asked a couple other kids what happened and my story matches theirs. I was minding my business, they came up to me, they started mouthing off, and Brittany was the one who hit me first. So," you shrugged, "guess your idea of selfdefense held strong."

"See? That's good, huh?"

"Yeah," you sighed, nodding absently, "but he said the girls were gonna lose their spot on the cheer squad for this. Listen, I don't think I feel like goin' back to class - kinda just wanna take a nap."

Billy hiked up his jean jacket sleeve, consulting his watch for a moment. "Wanna head to mine? Neil's got the evening shift and Susan has bridge club for a few more hours - we'd be alone."

Your eyes rolled, "No offense, Bee, I don't feel like fucking right now."

"I'm not sayin' that, I'm sayin' let's go nap at mine," he chuckled, picking up your backpack that you forgot about. "We can come back to get your brothers but you know you're not gonna rest if you go home."

You gulped, sighing sadly, "Yeah, well, about that..."

"Something else happen?"

"Apparently... The school has an obligation to call the police if a student reports abuse."

"You reported your mom?"

"Not on purpose," you rushed in defense, "just that... I had to explain what Brittany said to me - so I had to admit what Ma did - or does."

Billy frowned, "Jesus."

"Yeah, so... Maybe going home isn't the smartest idea right now. I wouldn't wanna be there when they conduct their wellness check."

"You wanna stay at mine?" He offered.

"What about Neil?"

"He's a lot nicer with you around," he admitted. "Won't care too much if you stay the night. Plus Max has that club thing after school, then she's going to the arcade; so, she won't need a ride, we can just go."

"You know what? Sure, all right, I'll come to yours," you accepted, your lover boy whisking you away without a second thought. "Thank you, baby."

Your hands were stiff, and when you looked at them, noted split skin and stained blood as a reminder of your aggression... Wondering why the fuck people pushed you to these limits and acted surprised when you reacted? If they wanted a punching bag, they picked the wrong one - but you were willing to remind them.

When you got to the Hargrove residence, you were silent as the grave; stewing in your anger that rolled off you in projected waves. Billy was terribly disarmed, unsure how to properly comfort you - wondering how he would want to be comforted, realizing he'd want to be alone, not subject to anyone's bullshit advice. So, he did what he knew and after handing you a bag of frozen peas for your split knuckles, comfortably stripped and crashed in bed with the window cracked and a rolled joint between his fingers.

You rested on his bare chest, sighing deeply while watching the end of the spliff come to life in a smoldering ember. Billy took the first inhale to make sure it was lit and instantly handed it to you, his arm snug around you and the silence hanging in the air like the swirls of stale, exhaled smoke.

"I'm sorry it got to this point, pretty girl," He offered awkwardly, his other arm bending to prop under his head. Both of you stared off aimlessly, stereo filling the space dully in the background.

"Not your fault," You inhaled and held your breath, handing him the joint. He casually flicked the end in an ashtray resting on the window sill.

"No, but I could've done more."

You chuckled, smoke seeping through your lips and teeth, "Oh, yeah? How? You gonna beat up three girls?"

"Nah but I could beat the shit outta Jason."

"What good would that do?"

"If he didn't want a weekly black eye, Jason would control his sister."

"It's always about control with you, isn't it?"

"I'm just saying," he handed the joint back, lungs pinched to hold the smoke, "I could protect you."

"You already do, baby."

"Let me do more, princess."

"You can't fight every battle for me."

"You could let me try."

"You'd be fighting on two fronts," you frowned, exhaling slowly. "Can't fight for me when you're defending yourself against Neil."

"Might be easier to deal with your shit than my own," he chuckled without humor, accepting the spliff. "Look, I know you don't want me involved, but that's kinda what a boyfriend's supposed to do, right? Protect their woman?"

"I wouldn't know."

"Never had a boyfriend before?"

"Nobody was worth dating until you. Nobody could understand me the way you do so effortlessly."

"'Cause we're one and the same, baby girl. You don't have to do everything by yourself," he inhaled, handing the spliff over again, "don't always have t'be strong."

"Ain't no other choice."

"You could let me in more..."

"You're one to talk."

He sighed, smoke billowing. "You're right. Can't expect you to open up if I don't, so why don't we both try to let the other in more? Yeah, I get it, the shit we deal with ain't pretty but at least we understand each other, right? We're the best for each other to lean on."

"I don't wanna drag you into my bullshit, baby."

"I want you to drag me in, princess. I wanna help you."

You sighed, "Well, Brittany and her cronies are getting suspended and kicked off the cheer squad - they'll be looking for reason to take it out on me."

"Say the word, baby, and I'll beat Jason black-and-blue."

"You're so romantic."

"Only for you - so don't tell anyone. I got a reputation to protect."

You both snickered as the weed you indulged in took effect, lulling you two into a state of ease. Your knuckles had stopped burning, resting your injured hand under the frozen peas, reminding yourself to remain grateful in this turbulent period of life because now, you had someone on your team. Someone who wanted to help carry your baggage. Someone without alternate motives. Someone who was willing to withstand the storm in the hope of feeling the warmth of the sun again.

requesting rules and masterlist

Stranger Things masterlist

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x female!reader #billy hargrove x fem!reader #billy hargrove x f!reader #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x fem reader #billy hargrove stranger things #stranger things billy #stranger things billy hargrove #billy stranger things #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove hurt and comfort #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove request #billy hargrove one shot #billy hargrove oneshot #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove blurb #stranger things #stranger things netflix #netflix stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things x you

[hmmm-shesucks]

Because I just love to torture the little guy, what if, when Lola took Neil, she also gave him a Glasgow smile. Really it had just been for fun, or maybe it could have been her signature of sorts; her victims always left smiling or some shit, but Neil wasn’t supposed to live, so it really wasn’t for anything but fun. But Neil did live, escaping and having to return to everyday life. Of all his scars, this is the one he hates most because he is permanently smiling. It’s not only his dad’s smile he has to hide now, but this, too, and the worst part is that he can’t. He can’t hide this. It's painful, and he can hardly talk, and it’s awful to look at while it heals, even worst once it’s just pink scar tissue.

For weeks after, only Andrew, Aaron, and Renee can look at him without flinching. Kevin can, too, but Neil knows every time he does, he’s punishing himself. Nicky cries, even though Andrew threatens to kill him every time. Allison stays stone-faced, but she never looks too long, eyes constantly drifting to something else when they talk. Dan and Matt are just devastated. Abby cleans him up when he lets her, but usually, it’s Andrew. He refuses to even step foot in the same building as Bee. Wymack benches him himself rather than Abby having to put her foot down. It takes months for the foxes to get used to it and years for Neil to stop hating it—just Neil with a Glasgow smile.

#i just love bullying him #man can't catch a break with me honestly #neil josten #all for the game #aftg #andrew minyard #andreil #aaron minyard #the foxhole court #kevin day #matt boyd #allison reynolds #renee walker #nicky hemmick #dan wilds #the kings men #the raven king #my aftg

[otdiaftg]

The King's Men - Chapter Fifteen (17)

Day: Thursday, March 21st / 22nd* Time: 2:08 PM EST

"Seven," Neil echoes stupidly. Andrew hadn't moved in with the Spears until he was twelve. Before Drake turned Andrew's life into a living hell Andrew had gone through twelve other houses, and Andrew had told Neil just the other week that none of them had been good. Neil hadn't asked how bad they'd been; he'd assumed Drake was the worst by far. Neil regrets asking, but it is too late to take it back. "You—" Neil says, but words fail him. He looks for the lie in Andrew's calm stare and comes up empty. Andrew had nearly killed four men for assaulting Nicky and would have broken Allison's neck for hitting Aaron, but when it comes to crimes against his own person Andrew couldn't care less. He holds his life in less regard than he does anything else. Neil hates that with a ferocity that is nauseating. "After everything they did to you, how can you stand me?" Neil asks. He is unwilling to put the details into words with so many people around. He doubts anyone is paying attention to them, but he isn't going to risk it. He gestures between them, knowing Andrew will understand. "How is this okay?" "It isn't a 'this'," Andrew says. "That's not what I'm asking. You know it isn't. Andrew, wait," he insists, because Andrew is turning away like he can't hear Neil anymore. Neil reaches for him, unwilling to let him leave without a real answer. "No," Andrew says.

Art used with permission by Emry-stars-art. Thank you @emry-stars-art!

*Due to the Leap Year, I have opted to highlight the day rather than the date to keep the events in occurrence to the 2007 year. I will continue to mark both days accordingly.

#aftg #all for the game #neil josten #tkm #the kings men #the foxhole court #andrew minyard #palmetto state university #psu foxes #andreil #on this day in aftg #otdiaftg #palmetto state foxes #otdi all for the game #nora sakavic #the foxes #on this day in all for the game #kevin day #nicky hemmick #aaron minyard #coach wymack #betsy dobson #abby winfield #matt boyd #dan wilds #renee walker #allison reynolds #artists #emry-stars-art

[luminnara]

 Cherry Bomb | Billy Hargrove x reader

The reader gives Billy a run for his money

Aka you’re loud and tough and have a cool car and for Billy that means love at first sight. I might have written him too sweet here but idc, this was supposed to just be a short little thing and then it took on a life of its own and here we are. Sorta follows the start of season 2 but then does its own thing lol

Masterlist

Requests are open!

PART TWO

Warnings: mentions of abuse, drinking, f slur/homophobia (thanks neil)

Tags: @smenny @infinitelyforgotten

Billy Hargrove hated this fucking town.

He hadn’t even been at the new house for a full week yet, and he hated it and everything around it. Hawkins was a little shithole, as far as he was concerned, full of hicks who couldn’t tell their left asscheek from their right. And the worst part? It was October, and it didn’t even look cool outside.

God, he wanted to go back to California. At least it was sunny there. At least he had the beach. This place was just gloomy and beige, the townspeople all boring and normal. Nice, conservative families, who dressed in nice, conservative clothes, and drove nice, conservative cars.

That really wasn’t Billy’s scene.

At all.

When he drove to Hawkins High one gray morning, he made sure he made a fucking spectacle of himself. He had managed to toss Max in the car before Neil was awake to start yelling and then tossed her back out in the middle school lot before tearing away again. His stepsister wasn’t about to cramp his style, not when he needed to size up the locals.

He had his stereo blaring a Scorpions casette, he had his favorite denim jacket, and he had half a pack of cigarettes left. His jeans were tight. His hair looked good. And he knew his Camaro was the sexiest car in town.

Because how could it not be? Everybody else drove pickups or ugly sedans. He hasn’t seen or heard a single engine that rivaled his, and that stroked his ego a little bit. At least he could become the king of Hawkins, Indiana while he was stuck there. At least he could get the attention he knew he never got at home.

He could see everyone staring curiously as he pulled into the parking lot. Girls—and guys—were craning their necks to see who was driving this unfamiliar car, and when he got out and grabbed a cigarette to light, he spotted a group of girls who were absolutely swooning. He glanced over them and then looked away again, surveying the rest of the student body while he still had the chance to enjoy the fresh, stinking air. Those girls would be all over him, desperate to use him to get back at their parents. He knew they’d all wanna get with the bad boy from out of town. They’d be good for a quick hookup and then they’d either wander off after their great conquest or he’d get bored and move on to the next one, never giving himself the opportunity to stop and wonder how bad it was for his mental health.

Oh well. It gave him something to do, at least. And he was good with girls, and he liked the attention, never mind that it was hollow and performative and none of them would ever actually care about him. It’s not like he was expecting anybody in this backwater little town to give a shit, anyways.

They were all whispering and giggling, the guys sizing him up. He definitely stood out, with his earring and mullet and denim on denim getup. They were all the picture of small town midwestern America, the fashionable ones all looking perfectly respectable and the less fashionable ones looking fine. There wasn’t much in the way of diversity.

It was boring as shit.

He resisted the urge to stomp out his cigarette in irritation. He also resisted the urge to get back in his car and get the hell out of there. He wanted to be anywhere else at that moment, literally anywhere would be better than—

The sound of an engine pulled him out of his thoughts and he turned towards the street.

He was not expecting what he saw.

Because how could he possibly have expected that?

A bright orange muscle car—shit, was that seriously a cuda??—whipped around the corner, narrowly missing a guy on his bike. The windows were down, Sammy Hagar was blasting, and Billy suddenly felt like he was being challenged. As much as he wanted to appreciate this car, whoever the fuck was driving it was seriously pissing him off just by existing, and when they had the nerve to park right next to him, he wanted to explode.

Who the hell did this guy think he was?

Billy puffed his chest out and straightened his shoulders. He was a fairly broad guy, and he knew how to use that to his advantage. He was ready to start a fight just to prove that he couldn’t be fucked with…but then the driver got out, and all he could do was stare.

What the hell was a girl doing with a car like that?

“Hey.” You said as you climbed out, shoving your aviators up onto your head to look at the new guy. “You parked in my spot. I don’t like that.”

He immediately sneered at you. “Sorry, sweetheart. Didn’t see your name on it.”

“Don’t have to. Everybody knows it’s mine.” You said coldly. Then you paused as you looked him over. He didn’t look too bad…but you knew his type. You had to put him in his place before he got too cocky with you. “You’re new, so I won’t make you move today. Consider it like a welcoming gift.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. You were bold. At least there was one interesting person in Hawkins.

“Nice car.” And with that, you turned away, and Billy watched your ass as you went.

———————

You tried not to think too much about the new guy, but that proved difficult when everyone else was talking about him. You were unlucky enough to have a locker close to Vicki’s, and when you approached it before lunch, you found that she, Carol, and Tina were blocking it as they talked.

“—I mean, did you see his ass?” Carol asked in a comically loud whisper.

“I heard his name’s Billy Hargrove,” Vicki said. “He just moved from California.”

Great. At least you knew his name now, for when you inevitably ran into him again. It really wasn’t that you didn’t like him—on the contrary, you were interested. Very interested. You liked his looks. You liked his car. You could guess that you had at least a few common interests. You just didn’t want to deal with him being a complete ass to you, not that it was anything you couldn’t handle, having grown up with three older brothers.

And you also didn’t want to deal with girls like Carol and Vicki and Tina, who did their best to bully you and grew increasingly frustrated when their insults seemed to roll off of you like water off a duck’s back.

“Move,” you grunted at them.

They paused their conversation, looking you up and down with disgusted expressions.

“Oh.” Carol said, wrinkling her nose. “It’s you.”

“It’s me, and this is my locker,” you growled. “Move.”

She did, but not without a loud scoff. “Freak.”

Water off a duck’s back.

You sat alone at lunch, waving at Robin but ultimately deciding to fly solo. All you had was a sandwich, anyways. You were planning on sneaking out for some fresh air if you could, maybe taking a power nap in the car—

“This table have your name on it, too?” A familiar voice sneered.

You looked up to see Billy Hargrove standing there, hands shoved in his jacket pockets, no food in sight.

“It does,” you said, watching as he took that as an invitation to sit down across from you.

You could already feel the girls glaring daggers at you.

“I’m not sure you understand the concept of what I’ve been trying to tell you,” you growled, putting your sandwich down. “This is my spot. Now you’ve taken both my parking space, and my lunch table.”

“Don’t care.” He put his elbows on the table, his chin resting on his hands as he looked at you. “Name’s Billy.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

“Your admirers won’t shut up about you.” You tossed your head in Carol’s direction. “Why don’t you go sit with them?”

“No room,” he shrugged. “Besides, I figured I’d come introduce myself.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Why?”

He sighed and put his hands on the table as he straightened up. “Because nobody else in this stupid fucking town has a car like mine…besides you.”

You wanted to laugh. Not at him, but at how honestly cute he was being. “You like it?”

“Where the hell did you get a Barracuda around here?”

“Guess you underestimated this stupid fucking town, huh?” You grabbed your sandwich again.

Before you could enjoy it, though, Billy had snatched it out of your hands and taken a bite, staring you down. Daring you to do something about it. But you were determined not to react, because you knew his type…and you knew he was trying to get a rise out of you.

You also knew that he didn’t have any food on him and hadn’t tried to get any, and you felt like maybe he could appreciate half a sandwich more than you could.

“Who’d you get it from?” He asked through a mouthful of food.

“It was a gift.”

“Don’t tell me you’re some stuck up rich bitch who just gets cars as presents every year,” he scoffed, seeming genuinely offended.

You rolled your eyes. “No, it was my mother’s.”

His eyes nearly popped out of his skull and you actually did laugh that time.

“No fucking way,” he said. “Women don’t drive cars like that.”

“She did.” You shrugged, using every skill you had ever gained from dealing with your brothers to not jump across the table and strangle him.

At the use of the past tense, you saw him hesitate for a moment. “She dead?”

“No,” you shook your head. “But she can’t drive anymore. The boys all had their own rides by the time she had to quit, and she’d never sell it…so I got it.”

“Big car family, huh?” He asked, almost seeming like he was warming up to you.

“My dad owns the mechanic shop here in town.”

You saw Billy really perk up at that one. “You know, I never did catch your name, sweetheart.”

You offered him a sickly sweet smile as you stood, stepping away from the table and patting him on the shoulder before you left. “Maybe next time, handsome.”

He stared after you as you walked away from him for the second time that day, knowing that not only did he have to talk to you on a regular basis now, but also that he would already do just about anything for you. 

—————-

You left school without any further Billy incidents. You half expected him to catch up and try to race you or something, but your drive back home was peaceful—or as peaceful as it could be with the way you drove on Hawkins’ quiet roads—and completely uneventful.

Your family lived in a cozy old house situated right next to the shop, and as you pulled up, you saw that your dad and brothers were working.

“You better not let Mom see the way you drive that thing,” Danny yelled as you approached the garage.

“Don’t let your old man see, either.” Your father grunted, wiping his hands off with a rag before tucking it back into his pocket. “Good day at school?”

“It was fine.” You shrugged, leaning on a car. “There’s a new guy.”

“Family moved in on Cherry Lane,” your second brother, Curt, called from beneath a car as he worked on it. “The mom was in this morning. Said she’s got a daughter and a stepson and a husband named Neil.”

“I met the son,” you said.

“How was he?” Your father asked absentmindedly as he walked to the desk to pull out a logbook and scribble in it.

“An asshole.”

“Language,” he growled out of habit, not bothering to look up.

“A jerk,” you corrected yourself.

“Better.”

You heard the sound of wheels against the cement as Curt pushed himself out from under the car. “We need to have a talk with him?”

“No, I can handle it.” You snorted a laugh. “He drives a Camaro, you know.”

“Damn, really?” Danny asked. “And here I thought the ‘Cuda would always be the nicest car in town…”

“It still is!” You argued.

“Get him to bring it in and we’ll see.”

You rolled your eyes. The concept of Billy fucking Hargrove coming into the shop wasn’t one you felt like visiting quite yet, even though you figured it would be inevitable. If not for service, since he seemed the type to try to do everything on his own, then for parts. You knew the boys—and your dad—would appreciate the Camaro, but you had your doubts about how much they’d appreciate its driver.

“Maybe,” you grumbled, tightening your grip on your backpack strap and heading across the lot towards the house.

“Hey, sweetie,” your mom called as you entered the kitchen through the back door. “How was school?”

“There was a new guy and he took my parking space.” You grumbled, plopping down at the table across from her.

“Did you give him a piece of your mind?” She laughed.

“Sort of.” You paused. “He likes the Cuda.”

“Then he has good taste,” she smiled.

“He said women don’t drive cars like that.” You grumbled.

“Then, unfortunately, he’s a man,” she snorted, leaning back in her chair. “Your father was like that when I met him…’til I finally got him to race me, and I smoked him.”

You grinned. You’d heard this story dozens of times, but it had always been one of your favorites.

“Of course, that was what…fifty nine?” She laughed. “Sure didn’t have the Barracuda back then.”

“So what’s the moral here?” You asked. “I should race him and then when the Camaro can’t keep up he admits he was wrong?”

“Camaro? At least he really does have nice taste. What’s his name?”

“Billy,” you sighed, laying your chin on your arms. “Billy Hargrove.”

———————

The next morning, you were running late. You were never one to show up particularly early, but you had a feeling that if you didn’t make it before Billy showed up, your parking spot was in jeopardy. Sure enough, when you pulled in, the Camaro was already there, and your mood was quickly souring.

“Billy Hargrove, get out of my spot!” You yelled over the sound of Iron Maiden.

“Mornin’ sweetheart,” he smirked, leaning up against his car.

“Move!”

He looked around. “The only other free spot is this one right next to me. Not sure what the point would be.”

Oh, he was definitely just trying to get under your skin.

You let out a loud noise of disgust and pulled into the space anyways. When you got out, slammed the door, and marched away without another word, Billy just watched you go, grinning to himself like a madman. He had been thinking about you all night, and not even in a dirty way--okay yeah, that was involved, too, but not exclusively--and he had actually been eager to head to Hawkins High just because he knew he’d be able to see you. 

He’d never felt this way before, and he really wasn’t sure what to do about it besides keep bugging you. He had already asked around and gotten your name—as well as the numbers of about six different girls—and judging by the way the others talked about you, you weren’t all that popular. On the one hand, he could see why; you were loud and liked to give everybody the finger, just like him. On the other hand…well, you were just like him, and as far as he was concerned, that was fun.

He wanted to get to know you better. He wanted to do more than just give you a ride and try to get as handsy as you’d let him. He was curious about you, and he wanted to get you to like him enough to actually have a real conversation.

You spent the next few days trying not to give him too much attention, but he was always there. He always parked in your spot, because apparently, it was his spot now, and your spot was right next to him. He always sat across from you at lunch, and after the third day, you started bringing extra snacks. Not for him, but because you knew he never brought anything for himself and if he had his way he would eat all of your food. 

“Why don’t you ever bring your own lunch?” you huffed on day five. 

“Didn’t have time to stop at the store this morning,” he shrugged as he tore through a bag of chips you had thrown at him. 

“You outta food at home or something?” you asked. You were just glad he was leaving your sandwich alone so you could actually enjoy it for yourself. 

“No,” he snarled with a little too much oomph. 

You stared at him for a long moment but kept your mouth shut. You could tell you’d somehow hit a nerve, and it seemed that Billy Hargrove, the obnoxious, attention-seeking bad boy, was a little more complex than you had initially thought.

 He was silent after that, looking pissed off as he ate. The problem wasn’t that they didn’t have food. Sure, they didn’t have nice three course meals for dinner every night, but they had food. The real problem was that his father called him a pussy anytime he did something as simple as make himself a sandwich, because Neil called that women’s work, and Susan was usually gone for work by the time Billy was getting up for school. And it’s not like Max was gonna make him anything when she hated his fucking guts. So, basically, he was relying on you to give him your scraps at this point, even though he refused to tell you and look like the weakling his father always told him he was.

You spent the rest of the day wondering about it. The tone in his voice when he gave you that no had been angry and defensive, and he was definitely upset about your question for a reason. You figured something had to be going on at home, but you had no idea what that might be, and you weren’t about to push him when he obviously didn’t wanna talk about it.

So you didn’t bring it up again, but you did start bringing more snacks. 

As much as Billy annoyed you, you had to admit he brightened your days a little bit. Okay, a lot a bit. You found yourself enjoying the way he shamelessly flirted and all the stupid pet names he gave you, and you started seeking him out for a change. He was a complete dick to everyone else, but with you? With you, he was actually halfway decent. He even carried a textbook for you one time. 

You liked it. And, as always, the sneers and glares from Carol and her friends hardly bothered you. 

“Slut.” Vicki said as she passed you in the locker room. 

“The mirror’s over there, Vick.” you said as you pulled your gym uniform on. 

You heard her scoff before someone shoved you forward into your locker. When you turned, you saw Carol standing there with her arms folded over her chest, a nasty smile on her face. 

“Okay, what is it this time?” you asked, pulling your shirt down and squaring up with her. 

“I just don’t see why he hangs around you.” she said. 

“Who?”

“Hargrove,” she hissed. “Duh.”

“You already have a boyfriend, Carol.” you rolled your eyes, sitting down to pull your gym shoes on. Three older brothers and a childhood full of schoolyard fist fights meant that there was nothing Carol could do to scare you...especially because you had gym with her, and you knew she couldn’t pack much of a punch. 

“Just stay away from him!” Tina snapped. 

“Why?”

“Because he’s ours!”

You glanced up at her. “I don’t exactly control him, you know. He does what he wants.” You stood and turned away, then paused and looked back at them. “And who he wants.”

They stared at you, their jaws dropped in shock. You just shrugged and walked away, heading out of the locker room and up to the gym. Would you regret starting a rumor about yourself? Probably, but it was worth it for the look on their faces. Plus...you wanted them to stay away from Billy. You told yourself it was because they were just annoying and you were saving him the headache, but there was a little bubble of jealousy you kept trying to push back down. You didn’t want them to go after Billy, because over the past week, you had grown so used to him bugging you that you had begun liking him. 

And you didn’t want to think about that.

At least you had gym, right? It would be a perfect distraction, and if push came to shove, you could probably find a way to hit Carol with a dodgeball or something. You wouldn’t have to think about Billy Hargrove and whether or not you liked him at all, because for the next hour or so, you had nothing but physical exertion to focus on, and no boys would be around to--

You stopped dead in your tracks. 

The boys were inside playing basketball, and unfortunately, it was shirts versus skins…and extra unfortunately, Billy was on the skins team.

And he looked good.

He was absolutely destroying the other team, and when he got the ball from a frustrated Steve Harrington and made a basket, you found yourself biting your lower lip. Billy was glistening with sweat in a way that was so sexy you thought it should be impossible, and for a guy who smoked so much, he seemed totally athletic. At least he could back up that macho man attitude he always put on.

“Oh my god,” someone whispered from behind you.

“He’s totally better than Steve Harrington…”

“He’s hotter, too!”

You glanced back to see most of the girls from your class had all clustered in the doorway, their eyes all glued to Billy. That jealousy rose in your chest a little, and you had to face forward again before you said something else you’d regret.

When you looked at him again, you caught Billy’s gaze, and a blush spread across your cheeks. He gave you a nod and a smirk, and—had his eyes always been that nice? No way, right?—and he actually winked. He winked at you before jogging off to join the rest of the guys at the other end of the court.

The girls erupted in excited whispers as everyone insisted that he had winked at them, but you were too shocked to say anything.

“Ladies,” the PE teacher growled from the sidelines. “We’re outside today. Chop chop.”

You tore yourself away, following the others in a daze. How had this happened? Just a week ago, you had been totally annoyed by this guy, and now, you couldn’t stop thinking about his abs. You didn’t want to stop thinking about his abs.

He didn’t want you to stop thinking about them, either.

When he saw the way you stood there and stared, Billy finally knew for sure that you were into him, and it made him happy. It also made him happy to know that you had seen him beating Harrington, and as all the other guys congratulated him on winning, he was busy running a hand through his hair and thinking about how he could spend more time with you.

At the end of the day, you walked out to the parking lot to find Billy leaning up against your car, a cigarette in his mouth. Your weird mood immediately soured, and you gave him an angry look as you stomped up to him.

“Off my car, Hargrove!” You barked.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” He chuckled, puffing smoke in your face. “Afraid I’ll chip the paint?”

“Afraid you’ll get your sweaty hands all over it,” you snapped.

He grinned and leaned down, looking you in the eyes. “Thought you liked me all sweaty. Or was that some other girl eye-fucking me in the gym today?”

“That was definitely Carol,” you rolled your eyes, ignoring the heat spreading across your cheeks. “I was busy watching Steve Harrington.”

Billy’s eyes darkened angrily. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Now move.”

He took a step to the side, just far enough for you to open the door and toss your bag inside. “What’s Harrington got that I don’t?���

“What?” You asked, looking back at him.

“You heard me.” He said bitterly. “What’s that douchebag got going for him?”

“Billy, I was kidding.”

“…oh.” He furrowed his brow. “Yeah.”

“Steve is popular. I don’t really talk to anybody popular besides Carol and her friends, and that’s not exactly by choice.” You climbed into your car and Billy actually closed the door for you before leaning on the open window.

“Why not?” He asked.

You shrugged. “Don’t really get along with them.”

“Don’t you have any friends? You’re always all alone, doll.”

“I like Robin.”

“Who?”

“Yeah, alright. I gotta get home, Hargrove.” You turned the key in the ignition and the barracuda roared to life in a way that had Billy grinning again.

“This is a nice ass car, babe.” He said over the sound of the engine. “She suits ya.”

You had to smile at that. “Thanks, Billy.”

His heart warmed at the sight, and he decided he wanted to see you smile more often.

“You wanna go for a drive, sweetheart?” He asked, still leaning through the window.

“Don’t you usually pick your sister up after school?” You asked as you grabbed your sunglasses and put them on.

“She’s got a skateboard. She’ll just go to the arcade or something.”

You looked at him for a moment. “…alright, fuck it. Where you wanna drive, Hargrove?”

“I was hopin’ you’d lead the way, doll.”

“Then hurry up, because I don’t drive slow.”

You threw the car into reverse and he only had a second to jump back before you were peeling out. With a triumphant yell, Billy jumped into the Camaro and took off after you, tires squealing as he tore out of the parking lot.

You weren’t too bad at first, obeying all the basic things like stop signs and the concept of crosswalks. But as soon as you were on a two line highway outside of town, you opened it up, glancing at your rear view mirror every so often to see Billy grinning behind you as he kept up.

The cars were roaring, the road was empty, and soon, Billy had pulled into the other lane and was riding next to you…and something about it felt so fun and so right to be racing alongside him. 

You led him down the highway a ways before hitting the breaks and turning onto a smaller road and he followed begrudgingly, a little pissed that he didn’t get to race you for real. When he saw your destination, though, his anger dissipated.

The lake was beautiful.

And you were beautiful, too.

He got out of his car to join you as you spread your jacket out on the ground and sat on it. When he sat down next to you, he realized how quiet it was, and for a moment, he just took it in. He wasn’t used to quiet. He wasn’t used to peace.

“I like to come out here this time of year,” you explained, looking at the water. “It gets busy sometimes when the weather is nicer, but come fall, there’s usually nobody around.”

“It’s nice,” Billy commented.

“You know, you almost kept up with me back there,” you teased, nodding towards the cars.

He scoffed. “I was going easy on you, baby.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Why do you call me that?”

“Call you what?”

“All these pet names. What’s the deal?”

“You don’t like em?” He asked, looking down at you as he leaned back on his hands.

“…I didn’t say that.”

His signature smirk returned. “They just suit you is all. ‘Specially Princess.”

“What?” You smacked his shoulder playfully. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He just laughed. “It just fits. You’re a princess with a pony car.”

“Muscle car.”

“Whatever you say.”

And you laughed, and it made him laugh, and you decided it was a nice sound coming from him.

“You’re not too bad, Billy Hargrove,” you said.

To him, that was practically a declaration of love.

“Oh yeah?” He asked, inching closer.

“Why aren’t you a jerk to me?”

The question caught him off guard. “…what?”

“You heard me.” You said, noticing the momentary vulnerability in his eyes. “For the past week I’ve been watching you hit on girls like Carol and tell Harrington to go fuck himself. The worst thing you do to me is eat my lunch and take my parking space. You’re practically a gentleman with me. What gives?”

Billy didn’t know what to say. He didn’t like feeling so exposed, because you were managing to strip away every single barrier he had put up to protect himself over the years. He wanted to clam up or tell you to fuck off, but when he looked down at you, he realized that he wanted to talk to you…and he’d never tell you to fuck off, because he never wanted you to leave.

And he didn’t want you to think he was just an asshole, because he wasn’t.

But he couldn’t possibly spill his guts to you.

“Guess I’m just sweet on you, babe.” He managed to say smoothly.

Your heart fluttered. “…are you?”

His heart fluttered, too. “Might be. What’s a guy gotta do to get a date with the hottest chick in Hawkins?”

You were full on blushing, and he thought that it was downright adorable. That was a sight he was used to—girls blushing because of his sweet talk. Normally, this would be when the clothes started coming off, but he was fine with talking, even though you drove him wild. He wanted to hear your voice, and he wanted to spend time with you, and he didn’t want to scare you off.

Meanwhile, your mind was racing. A date? With this asshole? Sure, you had grown used to him being around, but he was the type of guy to ask a girl out, fuck them, and then dump them again. You really didn’t feel like having your heart broken over some idiot like Billy Hargrove. But then again, you had three older brothers would make him regret ever speaking to you if he pissed you off, and you really did like him…

“Ask me,” you finally said.

He let out a tiny breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and gave you his best panty-dropping smile.

“…wanna go to Tina’s party together?” He asked.

You grinned. Tina would blow a gasket if she saw you walk in with Billy, and you’d pay good money to see how pissed off Carol got.

“I didn’t get an invitation,” you said.

“I did.” He shrugged.

Of course he did.

“Just come as my date, sweet cheeks. Unless you’re scared.”

“Scared?” You scoffed. “Of what? Bad beer and public make out sessions?”

“Didn’t know you were into those,” he smirked, leaning forward.

He was suddenly looming over you, and you couldn’t look away from his beautiful blue eyes and those dark lashes that framed them.

You swallowed hard. “I’m not.”

“No?” He asked, and you could feel his breath on your face.

“…maybe.”

“Maybe?” His smirk grew into a grin. “How ‘bout we find out?”

You wanted to kiss him.

You really, really did.

Fuck. How had this happened? You weren’t supposed to get a crush on the asshole new kid. You were supposed to put him in his place, get him to stop parking in your spot, and then maybe toss him a bag of chips or a cookie once in a while so he didn’t starve at lunch. That was it. So how had you managed to develop such a crush on Billy Hargrove?

You wanted to kiss him. You really did. But…you knew his type, and you didn’t want to become another one of his conquests. You didn’t want him to get in your pants and then move on to easier prey. You were sure he could just look at Vicki or Tina or Carol and they’d be on their knees ready to do anything he asked in a heartbeat, and you were also sure that it would absolutely kill you to watch.

But you really, really wanted to kiss him.

“Babe?” He asked impatiently, snapping his fingers in front of your face. “Eyes on me. C’mon.”

You focused on him again, mentally said fuck it, and grabbed him by the front of his jacket.

His eyes were wide with surprise as you yanked him down roughly. For a moment, he tensed, and his immediate reaction was to wrench himself backwards and out of your grip, because whenever someone came at him fast like that, it ended in bruises and split lips. But then, everything was still for a moment, and he was just staring into your eyes. He wasn’t used to girls initiating things. He wasn’t used to not being in complete control with them. But he found that he kinda liked it, especially when your lips met his in a kiss that felt all too sweet to be coming from someone who had just taken complete control so quickly.

But oh, did he love the feeling, and as you sat there at the edge of the lake, kissing Billy Hargrove, he decided that he never wanted it to end.

——————-

You crushed an empty beer can in your hand and tossed it away. The look on Tina and Carol’s faces had totally been worth showing up with Billy, even if you had lost him not five minutes later when one of the guys from the basketball team grabbed him and said something about a keg. Now, you had just finished your first beer, you were very skeptical of the weird punch bowl in the kitchen, and you were on the hunt for this keg and the idiot who was probably chugging from it.

You walked out into the yard and were immediately greeted by the sight of a crowd and the sound of chanting.

Yep.

This had to be it.

“Billy! Billy! Billy!“ the guys yelled over the sound of Motley Crue.

Yep. You found him.

You watched, mildly jealous that he had so much beer and you had just run out, as he finished the keg, threw his head back, and sprayed some in the air. The guys all erupted in cheers, Tommy H. loudly announcing that Hawkins had a brand new keg king.

A smile played at the edges of your lips. You were...proud, sort of? You knew the boys at Hawkins High took the whole keg king thing very seriously. In fact, before Steve Harrington had come along, your brother Curtis had carried the title, and you had helped Danny drag his drunken ass into the house on more than one late night occasion. Now, apparently, Billy was the new king, and even though his bare chest was covered in spilled beer, you thought the look and title suited him. 

You didn’t think the stickiness would, though, and you were immediately reminded of all the showers you’d had to toss your brothers into after parties just like this one.

“Alright, keg king.” you said, pushing your way past a couple boys to stand before Billy. “Let’s go get you cleaned up.”

He was leaning against Tommy heavily, still trying to get his sea legs back. When he looked down at you with a lopsided grin, though, you could see that his eyes were still fairly focused, and when he spoke, he was pretty coherent. At least he could hold his alcohol.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said, chest still heaving as he caught his breath. 

“Hey, Billy.”

“Didja see me?”

“I did.” you laughed at the manic look on his face. “Very impressive, dethroning Harrington like that.”

“Harrington’s been a pussy ever since he started dating Nancy Wheeler,” Tommy sneered. 

“That’s not very nice, Tommy.”

“What the hell are you doing here, anyways?” he scoffed. “No way you got invited. Fuck off.”

Ah, there it was. Tommy’s dazzling attitude. He had never liked you, because you had never put up with his bullshit—or Carol’s—and you generally tried to avoid him. Unfortunately, it seemed that he was practically gluing himself to Billy, and you’d been seeing him following the new boy around with the rest of the jocks lately.

“You fuck off,” you snapped at him.

“What the hell did you just say to me?”

“You heard the lady. Fuck off, Tommy,” Billy snarled, giving him a rough shove.

You were pretty sure you heard Carol gasp excitedly somewhere in the crowd.

“Yo, what gives, man?” Tommy asked as he stumbled back. “She’s a total freak. She shouldn’t even be here.”

You watched as Billy’s eyes narrowed, and all you could see in them was rage. He grabbed the front of Tommy’s Halloween costume and yanked him forward, and for a moment, you thought he was going to waste him right there.

“Don’t fucking talk to my girl like that.” Billy growled, knuckles turning white as his grip tightened.

“Your—what?” Tommy tried to glance at you but Billy grabbed his chin and held him in place.

“Understood?” He demanded.

“Y-yeah man,” Tommy stammered quickly, nodding his head.

“Good.” Billy let him go with another shove before turning to you. Then, as if to illustrate his point, he took your face in his hands and pulled you in for a hot, wild kiss that left your head spinning.

You could practically hear the shock on Carol, Tina, and Vicki’s faces.

 “You were saying?” Billy asked casually, letting you go again. 

You cleared your throat and steadied yourself again, taking in a breath to replace the one Billy had stolen.

“I was saying you’re covered in beer and you’re going to get sticky unless you wash it off,” you said, ignoring the stares everyone was now giving you. “Come on. You might even get to kick someone out of the bathroom mid-fuck if you’re lucky.”

He grinned at that and was immediately at your side, arm draped over your shoulders as he steered you towards the door. He was enjoying the party, you could tell; he loved all the attention he was getting, and he loved the free booze, even if it was shitty. He had already been crowned keg king, and the girls were all making bedroom eyes at him while their boyfriends tried to act tough enough to hang with him. But instead of paying attention to any of that, he was holding your hand like a lost kid at the fair, following you through the crowd obediently.

You spotted Nancy Wheeler drinking the questionable punch, and Steve Harrington looking distraught. Whether it was about her or the fact that he was quickly losing his seat as the most popular guy at Hawkins High, you didn’t know, but you tried to offer Nancy a concerned glance and received a confused look from Steve instead.

“Hey, don’t pay attention to him,” Billy grunted said you led him out of the kitchen. “Fuck that guy.”

“Alright, Billy. Whatever you say.”

“I mean—don’t fuck him,” he growled. “I’d kill him if he touched you.”

“How sweet.”

You could tell the massive amount of beer he has just consumed was starting to hit him when you glanced back to see a lazy smile on his face.

“Y’think so?” He asked.

“Yes, very sweet.” You stopped in front of the bathroom and banged your fist against the door. When no one answered, you tried the handle, finding it unlocked, and you shoved Billy inside.

“So rough, baby,” he smirked as you pulled the door shut. “If you wanted to get me alone, coulda just asked…”

“Hold still, Hargrove,” you mumbled, pulling one of the perfectly white hand towels off the rack and wetting it in the sink.

He leaned up against the counter in a way that you knew was premeditated, stretching his torso out and giving you the best view of his golden skin as possible. When you turned towards him, you paused for a moment, appreciating the sight before shaking your head and smoothing the towel down his chin and neck. 

“Shit!” he hissed, jerking back. “Couldn’t’ve made it warm at least?”

“Come on, you big baby.” you laughed, scrubbing him clean. 

“It’s cold.”

“Being cold is better than being covered in beer.”

He huffed indignantly but held still, stewing. He wasn’t used to this. He wasn’t used to someone trying to take care of him. The soft touches, the light laughs whenever he made a particularly grumpy face, the lack of blood and bruises and pain...it was new to him, after so many years of nothing but shouting and pain. 

“There.” you said, wiping his chest off. “Better.”

He quirked an eyebrow as he looked down at you. You were standing between his legs, pressed right up against him, but there was no blush creeping across your cheeks as you checked your work. 

“Y’know, this is usually the part where the chick is throwing herself at me.” he commented as you stepped away to wring the towel out in the sink. 

“Oh yeah?” you asked. 

When he didn’t give you another smooth reply, you glanced up at him. He was looking down at you almost thoughtfully, his eyes following your every move as you laid out the wet towel on the counter and turned to look at him properly. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

He immediately scoffed. “Nothing.”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

He paused, then reached for you. You let him pull you to stand between his legs again, his hands moving to your waist. Instead of trying to kiss you, though, he spoke, and he asked you the last question you expected him to.

“Why’d he call you a freak?”

You were expecting something more flirtatious, some attempt at getting in your pants because you were together in a bathroom at a Halloween party and Billy was buzzed thanks to becoming keg king. You really didn’t think he cared about why Tommy H. and his clique thought about you, because why should he? Billy was already the coolest guy around, and he’d only been in town for a week. You didn’t really get why he was even into you, besides the fact that he liked your car. 

“Why do you care?” you asked stubbornly. 

He fixed you with a look that suggested he was just as stubborn as you were. “Tell me.”

“...Fine.” you sighed. “I dunno. They don’t like me because I don’t like any of them, and I’ve had a locker next to Vicki for years, so I’ve been dealing with them just as long.”

And a lot of their parents talked badly about your family even though they needed them to fix up their shitty stupid cars, and you’d been an absolute terror on the playground in elementary school, and your brothers had spent more nights at the sheriff's department than you could count and in a town like Hawkins that meant you were bad news. 

“I’ll make them stop.”

“You really don’t need to, Billy.” you said. “I’m fine. And if I really needed help...well, I’ve got three big brothers.”

He snorted angrily, like a bull about to charge. He didn’t like that you were refusing his help. He wanted you to want his help, because he was offering it and he never offered it to anybody. Didn’t you realize how highly he thought of you, that he would stoop so low?

“Fine. Whatever.” he jumped off the counter and eased you back a few steps. “I need another beer.”

And then he was returning to the party, and you were left staring after him, wondering what the hell his deal was. 

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

“My god, Billy,” you groaned. “Could you at least give me a little help here?”

He just grunted and tried to push you away, which decidedly did not make it any easier to get him out of the car. 

“Quit!” you hissed, hauling him into the street and kicking the door shut behind him. “God, how are you so heavy?”

“M’ muscles, baby,” he slurred, his head lolling back as he licked his lips and grinned. 

You wrinkled your nose. “You are so fucking drunk.”

“Yyyyeah....”

After he’d stormed out of the bathroom, you’d lost track of him for a while, choosing to wander and stop thinking about him for a while. Apparently, during that time, he’d won at least one other drinking contest, mixed up a bowl of something that was even worse than the weird punch, and by the time you found him again, he was completely sloshed. 

Getting him into the Camaro had been decidedly easier than getting him out again was. He’d already puked on the grass at Tina’s once, and you hoped that meant that he had reached the stage where all he needed was a boatload of water and some good sleep.

Unfortunately, you didn’t actually know where on Cherry Lane he lived, and when you’d tried to ask, he had been vehemently against going back home. There were moments of clarity in his drunk eyes, but all you saw in them was absolute terror at the prospect of dropping him off at his place and then figuring out your own way back again. 

“‘M not goin’ in there,” he said as you ducked under his arm and half-dragged him up the street towards your house. “He’ll kill me...”

You frowned. “Who?”

“M’old man,” he hiccupped. 

Your frown deepened, but before you could try to get anything else out of him, you saw the front door open and you froze. 

“What the hell is this?” your oldest brother, Kenny, asked, standing there with his arms folded over his chest and taking up the entire doorway. 

“Just shut up and help me get him inside!” you hissed, trying and failing to drag Bill up the steps. 

Your brother took in the sight and sighed. “You owe me, kid.”

“Don’t call me kid,” you grumbled as he joined you on Billy’s other side, hoisting him up easily and getting him up to the porch far more quickly than you’d ever be able to on your own.

“Why’d you bring him here?” he asked as you let go of Billy to close and lock the door. 

“Because I don’t know which house is his, and he said his dad would kill him,” you said, following as your brother dumped Billy on the couch. He grunted and for a moment you were afraid the movement might make him sick, but he just rolled over, tucked his face up against the cushions, and immediately passed out. 

Well, at least he was easy to put to sleep.

“...This that Hargrove guy?” 

“Yeah.”

Kenny grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch and threw it over Billy unceremoniously. “Go get him some water. He’ll be fine down here til morning.”

You sent your brother a silent thank you look before running to the kitchen. It wouldn’t be the first time a guy spent the night drunk on that couch after a party, and after seeing Billy in action, you doubted it would be the last. 

“He’s the new keg king,” you commented when you came back and set a cup down on the coffee table.

“I thought that Harrington kid was?” your brother raised an eyebrow.

“Not anymore.” you looked at Billy almost fondly. It was a stupid title, keg king, but you were still a little proud of him. 

You could tell that Kenny was the tiniest bit impressed, just as you’d hoped he’d be. He’d graduated from Hawkins High five years ago--and then Danny had, and then Curt, and now you were on your way--and he had been one of those guys who would yell and fight and drink more beer than humanly possible at house parties. Now, he was slightly calmer, but all three of your brothers still knew how to throw down. Actually, now that you thought about it, maybe you didn’t mind Billy’s antics and asshole attitude because it felt so familiar.

“Well. He’s lucky you brought him back here, because nobody else’s house is better at making hangover breakfast.” Kenny snorted, heading towards his room. Before he opened the door, however, he paused and fixed you with a glare. “And you better stay the fuck upstairs all night. No funny business.”

You felt your face heating up. “Kenny!”

“Got it?”

“Yeah, I got it.” you grumbled, making for the stairs. “Don’t let him choke on his own puke in his sleep.”

Your brother rolled his eyes. “Goodnight, kiddo.”

“Night, Kenny.”

You trudged up the stairs and managed to take a shower before going to bed. You were fucking exhausted, but at least you were back home, and Billy wasn’t lying in a ditch somewhere. The worn out old couch downstairs wasn’t the comfiest, but it was a perfectly good place to sober up. You just hoped he wouldn’t leave before you got the chance to check on him in the morning and get at least a shitty thank you for dragging his ass all the way there.

When Billy woke in a strange house, on a strange couch, he was more than a little freaked out. He couldn’t see the piles of trash that would indicate he was still at Tina’s, and he definitely wasn’t back at his place, because there was no way Neil wouldn’t have already beaten the tar out of him for sleeping on the couch. 

He pushed himself up and immediately felt the familiar nausea and headache of a hangover. He could remember most of the night, right up until he had walked away from you. After that, everything was a blur, and he had no idea who had given him a ride, or if he had even gotten a ride, but he was at least a little glad that he didn’t seem to be covered in vomit or mud or anything that would indicate his night had gone worse than it did.

He downed the cup of water in front of him greedily and then put his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes. He felt like absolute shit, but it could be worse. It could always be worse. Now, he needed to find his keys, and his car, and then a bite to eat, and then he could spend the rest of the weekend making himself scarce in the hopes that Neil wouldn’t catch him.

...Fuck.

Neil.

Billys father would have definitely noticed he hadn’t come home by now, and he wasn’t going to be very friendly when he did. Billy wasn’t getting away without a good beating this time, that was for sure, and the thought made his throat tighten as anxiety rose in his chest. He had to get out of there, wherever there was, before anything happened. 

He stood as quickly and as quietly as he could, noticing that his boots were still on. Had he just crawled into some random house and passed out on there couch? He wouldn’t put it past himself, honestly. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” a feminine voice asked as he reached for the door. 

He froze and turned. There, through the doorway to the kitchen, he could see a middle-aged woman sitting at a table, sipping from a mug as she watched him. Behind her, there was a big guy standing in front of a stove, cooking what smelled like bacon and eggs. At the sound of the woman’s voice, he looked back over his shoulder towards Billy, fixing him with a smirk. 

“Glad you didn’t die in your sleep, keg king,” he mocked. 

Billy immediately bristled. He didn’t know who this guy was, but he was asking for a fight if he thought he could just--

“Be nice, Danny,” the woman chuckled, taking another drink. “I can’t count the number of calls I used to get from Hopper to come grab you out of the drunk tank.”

The guy rolled his eyes and turned back to the stove. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

The woman looked at Billy again and then gestured to the chair next to her. There was already an empty plate and silverware set out for him and a full glass of orange juice, but he didn’t move. This was way too strange. 

“Come sit down, sweetheart.” she said. “You need to eat. Then you can run off.”

He didn’t budge. He didn’t trust this. Nice things like this didn’t happen to Billy Hargrove, and parents didn’t just sit there and not shout when they found out their kids got absolutely shitfaced the night before. He was too hungover to even manage that award-winning smolder he was so good at that always got all the moms going. 

“Sit down,” Danny growled, setting a plate full of bacon down on the table. 

Billy just raised his lip in a sneer. 

Danny rolled his eyes before yelling towards the second floor. “Hey, shitheads! Breakfast!”

Billy heard thumping upstairs, two doors slamming open, and then something that sounded like a shoulder hitting a wall. 

“Fuck off, Curt!” you shouted. 

“Move, pipsqueak!” a guy yelled. 

Billy turned in alarm to see another guy, this one more his age than the one in the kitchen, tearing down the stairs, with you hot on his heels. You were still in your pajamas, but you looked like you were in far better shape than Billy was...and suddenly, he started putting two and two together, and he realized exactly whose house he was in. 

“Hey, you’re up!” you smiled at him.

“Outta the way, keg king,” Curt growled, shouldering past him. 

“Be nice, Curtis.” your mom said.

“Come on.” you seized Billy’s arm, pulling him towards the table. “You have to eat before Curt gets it all, or else there won’t be anything left.”

Your brother was already chowing down, but he managed to fix you with a glare that you happily returned. 

“I should go.” Billy mumbled, trying to pull out of your grip.

He underestimated how strong you were, though, because you just tightened your hold on him and dragged him towards the chair next to your mother. “No way. I didn’t go through all that trouble getting you back here last night for you to just leave without food.”

He made an irritated noise, but when both of your brothers and your mother glared at him, he sat down. There you were, feeding him, just like you did at lunch every day. When your mother smiled at the sight of him reaching forward and taking a piece of bacon--with his fingers, not a fork, something that would have earned him a sharp slap at home--he realized where you got it from. 

Your family was way different from his.

“Honey, will you go get Kenny and your father?” Your mother asked, turning towards you. “They’re already out in the shop.”

“But I just sat d--”

“I’ll make sure your brother doesn’t eat all your food.”

“Fine.” you sighed, pushing your chair out and running out the back door. 

There was silence for a moment, broken only by the sound of bacon crunching, before one of your brothers spoke up. 

“You like my sister, huh?” Curt growled. 

“Fuck off,” Billy spat back. 

“Ooh,” your brothers laughed, glad to finally get a reaction out of Hawkins’ new keg king. “Pretty boy here does talk.”

Billy shoved another strip of bacon into his mouth and sneered. “Shut the hell up.”

“Boys, don’t antagonize him when he’s not feeling well.” your mother said calmly, looking at her newspaper. 

“Not our fault he can’t hold his liquor,” Curt said, leering at him from across the table. 

Billy may have been exhausted with a splitting headache, but his temper was still there. He slammed his hands down on the table--your mother picked her mug up just in time to avoid any of her coffee spilling, as if she was very used to doing so--and leaned towards your brother, just about ready to grab him by the shirt and teach him a fucking lesson. 

“Boys, no fighting at the table,” a gruff male voice said, and Billy immediately sat down as your father appeared. 

Billy was waiting. Waiting for the shouting. Waiting for something along the lines of you fucking pussy, practically begging for table scraps, sitting there like some fucking faggot with no shirt on under your jacket and that stupid pretty boy earring. He was bracing himself for a fist in his face or hair. He was ready to be yanked from his chair and shoved into something. It’s what his old man would have done, so why shouldn’t yours?

You snuck around your dad and took your seat next to Billy, glancing at him. Everyone had noticed the sudden quiet that came the moment your father came in, and your mother gave you a knowing look, as if she recognized something you didn’t. 

“I told you not to work before breakfast,” she chastised your father and older brother as they sat down. “Makes the whole kitchen smell like oil and grease.”

“Gotta finish that job for the Wheelers,” your father grunted, scooping a few helpings of scrambled eggs onto his plate. He took a drink and then finally seemed to notice Billy sitting there, looking sullen and hungover, avoiding eye contact as he crunched on bacon. “You the Hargrove boy?”

“Yessir.” Still no eye contact.

He realized too late that he hadn’t even looked up at your father, and once again, Billy was bracing himself.

“Bet you’ve seen better mornings.” Your father chuckled. “I like that Camaro. You bring that here all the way from California?”

You watched as Billy relaxed slightly, and he finally managed to look up at your father. You didn’t understand why he was so tense. He was practically afraid. Yeah, your dad could be stern when he wanted to—he had three sons within a fairly short time frame, of course he had perfected the tough dad routine—but he was never mean.

And then you remembered Billy’s drunken statement from the night before, about how his old man would kill him if he came stumbling home so late and so drunk, and realization dawned on you. At the time, you had thought he wasn’t serious. Tons of people said stuff like that, and they always meant that their parents would be seriously pissed off and they’d be grounded for a month. You were starting to get the feeling that maybe Billy’s dad wasn’t really the grounding type.

“I did, sir.” Billy said, some of that smooth façade crawling back into the picture.

“You take good care of it.” Your dad commented. “Kenny brought it into the garage first thing this morning and we popped the hood. Doesn’t even need a tune up.”

Billy puffed up a little and you had to resist the urge to laugh at him. It was actually cute watching him interact with people in a setting where there were no girls and no Tommy H. tripping over themselves to impress him. 

“Thank you, sir.” Billy said. 

You noticed how stiff and polite he was, and it bothered you. He said sir like he had to. It was more than just because he was talking to your father. It was as if he was afraid to fuck up, because he was afraid of what might happen if he stepped out of line.

 Just like that day at lunch, you found yourself thinking about how there was so much more to Billy Hargrove than pretty eyes and a bad boy persona, and you felt like you were chipping away at the walls he had put up, slowly but surely. 

---------

After he left your house, you didn’t see or hear from Billy for the rest of the weekend. 

It worried you a little bit.

Thankfully, you had plenty of work to do, and your dad saw to it that you spent most of Saturday and Sunday helping in the shop. Less than thankfully, however, that meant dealing with an onslaught of questions from your brothers, all of whom had plenty to say about Billy Hargrove and why he’d better keep his mitts off their baby sister. 

You could tell they actually liked him, though. By the end of breakfast, they’d actually almost been getting along, even Curtis. You knew it meant that you would be able to bring Billy over more often, and you hoped that he would actually accept the invitation now that he had gotten some free food and realized that they weren’t all going to beat the shit out of him. 

On Monday, he wasn’t in your parking space, and that worried you a little more. You left it open for him, seeing as it had become his space, and tried to wait around...but when he still hadn’t shown up by the first bell, you gave up and went to class. 

He finally appeared at lunch, leaning up against your locker in that way that made him look extra gorgeous. You had to admit, the guy knew how to work his angles, even in the shitty fluorescent lighting of the hallway.

“Hey, sweetheart.” he greeted.

“Careful, that’s Vicki’s locker,” you said dryly. “Might get her a little too worked up if you get your cologne all over it.”

He snorted a laugh. “You like it?”

“Your cologne?” you paused and leaned in. “...Yeah, it’s alright.”

“Just alright?” he taunted as you opened your locker.

“Yeah, you heard me.” you shoved your books at his chest for him to hold while you pulled out your lunch, and you saw the way he winced as they hit his ribs. “...Hey, you okay?”

He immediately bristled in that overly defensive way he always did. “I’m fine.��You’re always so fucking worried about me, babe. It’s a bad look.”

“Whatever, Billy.” you rolled your eyes. 

“What’s for lunch?”

“A sandwich you will not be sampling for me, and a sandwich you will be sampling for you. My mom insisted that I bring you one.”

When he was quiet, you glanced up and saw a strange, faraway look in his eyes. He almost looked emotional. You wanted to ask if he was okay again, but you knew the answer would be even more volatile this time, so you simply took your books from him, shoved them in your locker, and then slammed it shut. 

He threw his arm around your shoulders as you walked to the cafeteria, seeming completely at ease and not at all bothered by the fact that absolutely everyone was staring at the two of you. You could see them all whispering, some trying to hide it behind their hands, others not bothering at all and just talking about you at a normal volume.

“Oh my god, are they seriously together?”

“What’s Hargrove want with her?”

“I thought he was into Carol. It’s what she’s been telling everyone.”

“Yo, Hargrove!” one voice called out over the others. 

Suddenly, you were faced with Tommy H. and a few of his friends, guys from the basketball team who probably didn’t even know your name. They forced you to come to a halt, blocking the hallway as Tommy looked over your head to talk to Billy. 

“We’re gonna scrimmage in the gym. You in?” he asked. 

Billy offered him one of those smooth, nonchalant smiles. “Nah. Got plans.”

Tommy’s eyes slid down to you. “...Seriously, Billy?”

“I said I got plans,” Billy growled. “You got a problem with that?”

Tommy suddenly smirked. “Oh, I see. Not really my type, but let us know how it is, yeah?”

The rest of the guys chuckled, and you suddenly got the feeling that you were the butt of a joke. When you looked up at Billy, you saw that he was laughing along with them, in that fake way he always did with people at school. People he didn’t actually give a shit about.

People who weren’t you.

“Come on,” he muttered, nudging you around Tommy and urging you to walk forward.

“Do they really think we’re about to go fuck in your car?” You asked bluntly, glaring up at him. “And you didn’t correct them?”

“What d’you want me to say?” He asked angrily as he glanced down at you. ���Just leave it, doll.”

“I don’t want to,” you grumbled, leaning into his side anyways. “I shoulda punched him…”

You didn’t get a chance to see the fond look Billy cast your way. Even though you were tucked right up against his bruised ribs, he loved having you there next to him, and he never wanted to let you go. He didn’t care what dickheads like Tommy H said, he was into you for more than just sex, though judging by that kiss by the lake, you’d probably be great in the sack. No, Billy legitimately enjoyed the time he was spending with you, even though he didn’t really know how to show it.

When you sat down for lunch and he still hadn’t brought up Friday night or the morning that followed it, you decided that you would have to be the one to breach the subject.

“My parents like you, y’know,” you said.

He raised a brow as he bit into the sandwich you’d brought for him. “They tell you that themselves?”

“Yes, actually.”

“Your family’s weird as hell.” He said bluntly, not caring how rude it sounded.

“What makes you say that?” You asked.

“Uh, they seriously don’t have a problem with drunk guys like me crashing on their couch?” He scoffed. “My—most parents would lose their fucking minds.”

“They kind of just…would rather somebody not end up on the side of the road somewhere,” you shrugged. “My brothers partied a lot when they were in school. Actually, our whole family has kind of a…reputation.”

“What kind?”

“The kind where everybody else’s parents talk shit, but they can’t be too mean to our faces because they need their cars fixed.”

“It’s a good thing I don’t care about reputation, then.”

You let out a loud laugh. “You? Not care about reputation? That’s rich.”

“What?” He asked, irritated. “I don’t. Not really. In fact, I—you know, I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

“You don’t, but it might be kind of nice if you did,” you pointed out.

He gave you one of those angry snorts, the kind that he always paired with a disgusted grunt in the back of his throat, and it made you smile. At least Billy was back to normal after the weekend, even if that meant he was back to being a dick.

——————-

It was a night a few weeks later that you learned why he was such a dick.

A sound outside your window startled you, and when a second one followed, you decided to check it out. You turned the lamp on your bedside table on and slipped out of bed as quietly as possible, thankful for your carpeted floor and the way it muffled your footsteps. When you reached the window, you saw a familiar face, as Billy Hargrove was clinging to the side of your house.

“Oh my god,” you hissed, opening the window and grabbing a handful of his denim jacket to pull him in. “What the hell are you doing here? It’s fucking midnight or something—are you okay?”

He wasn’t.

He wasn’t okay.

You sat him down on the edge of your bed and he just stared down at the floor. His lip was split. He had a black eye. A nasty bruise was forming on his jaw. He looked like he had just coke from a fight, though you had no idea who he possibly could have been facing when word around school was that he had already beaten the absolute shit out of Steve Harrington.

“Billy, are you okay?” You asked when he didn’t answer.

This time, he gave a slow shake of his head, still refusing to look up at you.

“Hey,” you stepped between his legs and gently took his face in your hands, mindful of the bruises as you tilted his head up to look at you. “What happened?”

“…Neil.” He said. Somehow it was more to himself than to you.

For a moment, you had no idea who he was referring to. You wracked your brain trying to remember if you went to school with anybody named Neil, and you came up empty…until you realized that you had heard the name before, from your brother.

“…a daughter and a stepson and a husband named Neil.”

You suddenly felt sick to your stomach as all the pieces of the puzzle began falling together. Every time he winced when you shoved him too hard. The way he was so nervous at breakfast. His bad attitude. It was all starting to make sense, and you hated it.

“He isn’t here now,” you whispered, pulling Billy’s head to your chest in a hug. “He’s gone. You’re safe with me.”

That broke him. Because he knew he was safe with you. He always had been, from that very first day where you let him eat your sandwich at lunch.

You felt him shudder as a silent sob rolled through his body. You didn’t care if he cried on your pajamas. He needed it.

“Don’t tell,” he mumbled, his voice muffled against you. “Don’t you dare fucking tell anyone about this.”

“I won’t tell,” you murmured as you ran your fingers through his hair. “I promise.”

This time, you heard the sob that wracked him and it broke your heart.

“Wanna spend the night?” You asked.

“…not on that shitty couch.”

“In here. With me.”

He hesitated, then nodded, and a minute later, he was curled around you, breaking down, holding you tightly like you were the teddy bear his father had never let him have as a kid. You could feel the chain around his neck tickling your skin every so often, and it reminded you that it was Billy Hargrove whose chest you were pulled up into.

And nobody else’s.

#billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove #stranger things

[lovesickonmybed]

What if Bully Ellie and the reader are exes and now Ellie just wants to make the reader's life miserable 💀💀 I will pay for it, bc I know she will be so mean to her but the moment a new girl wants to make a move on reader Ellie will lose it

better than me | 18+

masterlist | info about palestine | donate to gaza

pairing | bully!ex!ellie x ex!reader

synopsis | ellie isn't handling your break up well, her jealousy and anger taking over in the worst ways

warnings | 18+ MDNI!! wedgies, bullying, insults, jealousy, toxic behavior, sexual context, masturbation.

word count | 2k

a/n | honestly i'm kind of debating turning this into a miniseries because i really like this concept and kind of want to see where i could take it but let me know what y'all think!! i wrote this in the middle of the night with zero editing so if you see any mistakes no you don't. i urge you to not buy any of the last of us games, including the remaster as the creator, neil druckmann is a zionist. the second game is based off of the israeli occupation in palestine and you can learn more about that here.

You and Ellie had a very messy breakup, one she couldn’t get over. So she started bullying you. It started your freshman year of college, only two weeks after the breakup. Ellie had gone up to you in the locker room at the school's gym. She looked at you with an angry glare, “Move, you’re in my way.” She glares at you with her arms crossed, she had never looked at you like that before. 

“Just go around, you can literally climb over the bench. I don’t wanna talk to you,” you say, the breakup still fresh for you. 

Ellie shoves you back lightly, not breaking her glare, “No. You’re gonna move.” This exchange had garnered them a crowd, a lot of the girls in the room glancing over at the pair. Ellie is stubborn but so are you.

“Who the fuck do you think you are? This isn’t you, Ellie!” You exclaim, not even caring if you’re causing a scene. You’ve never seen this side of her and it upsets you. You’re not even expecting it when she grabs you by your shoulders and spins you around, quickly pushing you face first against the cold metal lockers. She grabs the waistband of your gym shorts and pulls it away from your body, giving her access to your underwear. She wraps her fingers around your waistband and you beg as soon as you feel her cold fingers brush against your skin. 

“Ellie, whatever you’re about to do, don't do it, please! I-I’m sorry! I should’ve moved!” You plead with her to literally save your own ass. It doesn’t work. She grips the waistband, pressing her arm hard against your back to keep you in place.

“You should’ve listened to me when I told you to fucking move,” Ellie borderline snarls before pulling hard on your waistband, the cotton fabric of your panties forcing its way up and between your cheeks. You yelp in pain and instinctively try to run, causing Ellie to pull even harder, forcing you onto your toes in seconds. You try every trick in the book to escape the pain but it’s no use, she has you right where she wants you and you’re not going anywhere.

She pulls and pulls at your panties, hiking them up to your shoulders before letting go of your waistband, laughing when you whine as it snaps back against you. She continues to hold your body against the locker, pressing herself against you and gripping your hair painfully. “You better listen to me next time I tell you to do something you fucking loser,” she threatens before letting you go and shoving past you to get to her locker. You look around the locker room with embarrassment, looking down at the ground and trying to hide your face with your hair as you grab the rest of your things from your locker before running out of the locker room and back to your dorm. 

You encounter her again a week later, you’re out in the quad talking with a girl from one of your classes, her name is Layla. You’re both sitting on a blanket she brought, talking about an assignment, cracking jokes here and there. You’re having a great time, smiling bigger than you had in a while, cheeks flushed when she compliments you. It’s bliss until Ellie comes along. She’s walking back to her dorm after an annoyingly long lecture, she’s got an overpriced iced coffee in her hand that she bought from the campus coffee shop and a pissed off look on her face. 

She’s speed walking, wanting to get away from everyone and everything when she spots you and Layla. You’re leaning in and giggling, smiling like you did when you were with Ellie. It makes her heart ache and before she even realizes it she’s walking over to the both of you. Her mouth feels dry as she’s standing in front of you two. She looks down and feels nauseous as you both look up at her.

“Uh, can I help you?” You ask coldly, glaring up at her. She looks nervous, and it’s slightly amusing to you to see her like this. Your date grabs your hand reassuringly, aware of the incident that had happened a few weeks ago. 

“What are you doing?” Ellie asks, her mouth moving quicker than her brain. She mentally facepalms after realizing what she’s said. It’s obvious what you’re doing and Ellie fucking hates it. 

“We’re just…hanging out. Why do you care?” You respond, looking away from her, focusing your eyes on a bird flying around in the distance. 

Ellie shuffles her feet and racks her brain, trying to come up with a response. “I-I-” She cuts herself off, still trying to find the words.

“Can you just leave us alone, we’re just trying to hang out and enjoy some fresh air. We’re not bothering anyone, okay?” Layla says, speaking up for the both of you. This angers Ellie even more, she doesn’t want to hear a word Layla has to say. She’s seeing red, jealous when she knows she has no right to be. She wants to act logically but she can’t, she acts purely on emotion as she tosses her coffee at Layla. It sends you both gasping in surprise scooting back, but not near quick enough to avoid the splash. You groan as you realize your white shirt has been covered in Ellies drink. Ellie is just as shocked by her actions as you are, she’s quick to run off, wanting to get back to her dorm as quickly as possible. 

You and Layla scramble to figure out what to do, using the blanket to dry yourselves. All you do is make the stains on your shirt and light wash jeans even worse and you hang your head in embarrassment as she walks you back to your dorm. You let her borrow some clothes and your shower stuff as she goes and gets herself cleaned up, you can’t lie she looks pretty good in your clothes even if it is just a black t-shirt and some sweatpants. You have your turn to shower and change and when you finish up you go back into your room to talk to Layla.

“I’m so sorry about that, I had no idea she was gonna do that. She hasn’t been herself since we broke up, she’s all mean now, it’s weird…” You apologize, sitting down on your twin bed next to her, brushing through your wet hair. 

Layla looks at you and smiles reassuringly, “It’s not your fault. You’re not responsible for her now, if she can’t get over it she should talk to you instead of acting like such a dick. It’s not like you knew she’d do something so ridiculous.” You lay your head on her shoulder and look down at your lap. 

“I just feel bad you got caught up in this shit, she shouldn’t be messing with anyone else. I mean, she’s mad at me, there’s no reason for you to get caught in the middle of it,” you sigh. Layla once again grabs your hand, rubbing circles into your skin with her thumb. 

“She’s mad at me too for taking you out on a cute little picnic,” she chuckles, resting her head against yours. You feel comfortable and happy with her, but there’s a part of you that feels like something is missing. You push down the feeling, it’s not something you feel like addressing in the middle of such a sweet moment. You push back your memories of Ellie and let yourself smile as you and Layla cuddle up together. She stays over for an hour, cuddling with you and talking about class and getting to know each other better, you’re grateful she doesn’t bring up Ellie again. When she leaves she promises to return your clothes when she sees you again, you couldn’t care less if she did, she looks better in them, anyway. 

Ellie is freaking the fuck out when she gets back to her dorm room, completely out of breath as she had run the entire way there. She’s thankful Dina isn’t there as she collapses onto her bed hyperventilating. She hasn’t always been great at impulse control, everyone who’s known her has known this. But she didn’t think it was bad enough for something like that to happen. She knows she’s going about everything wrong, there’s no way she’s getting you back acting like that, but she doesn’t know how to get her shit together. 

“I’m so fucking stupid oh my goddd,” Ellie groans, grabbing her pillow and screaming into it in frustration. She’s embarrassed and angry and still feels pangs of jealousy as she thinks about you and Layla giggling together in the grass. Ellie had never taken you on a picnic, when you dated it was mostly arcade and movie dates, she hadn’t even thought you’d want to do something outdoors. She overthinks it, convincing herself you broke up with her because she never took you on a nature date. It’s a stupid, irrational thought, and Ellie knows that, but she doesn’t care. She needs to let herself spiral before she can pick herself back up and make a plan that doesn’t make you look at her like she’s a complete jackass. 

“I need to apologize, tell her I’m sorry for the wedgie and the coffee and fucking up her date…her date with that girl who doesn’t deserve her but whatever…” Ellie mumbles to herself, pulling at her hair stressfully. She thinks back to the wedgie incident, she completely humiliated you and it got her wet. Your pathetic little noises, how you were at her mercy like that, it just did it for her. She scrunches up her nose, trying to convince herself to stop thinking about it like that but it doesn’t take long for her to soak her panties once again. 

“If I take care of it, I’ll stop thinking about it,” she mutters as she tries to convince herself it’s okay to get off to the memory. She slips off her jeans and slips her hand under her panties, starting off by flicking her clit, whining pathetically at the sensation. She slips two of her fingers inside her soaked cunt, pumping them in and out slowly as she uses her thumb to stimulate her clit. She continues working her fingers in and out of her cunt as she bites her lip to keep her noises to a minimum. All she can think about is how pathetic you sounded as you took your wedgie, she replays the noises in her head, loving how you sounded. You never sounded like that when you had slept together, that was a side of you she didn’t get to see until she had your waistband in her hand. It doesn’t take her long to cum, whimpering out your name as she reaches her climax. She lazily works her way through her orgasm, wishing it was your fingers instead. She feels guilty afterwards, mumbling to herself that she’s not doing that again.

She forces herself to get out of bed and into the cramped bathroom she shares with Dina so that she can wash off her shame. Little does she know that you’re in your dorm room doing the same, pumping your fingers in and out of your cunt shamefully as you use your other hand to pull your panties like Ellie had. The feeling of powerlessness, pain, and humiliation had all combined into pleasure in your brain. You halfway moan Ellie’s name when you cum, cutting yourself off when you realize what name is leaving your lips. “I’m never doing that again,” you promise yourself as the shame bubbles up inside of you. For once you’re grateful for your roommate to come bursting in the door, you let her nonsensical rant about whatever show she was watching distract you from the lingering thoughts of Ellie’s hands on your waistband.

#ellie williams x you #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams smut #ex!ellie williams #bully!ellie williams #bully!ex!ellie williams #wedgie kink

[dontaskmemybias]

The Fan Meeting

Pairing: Idol!Han Jisung x afab reader Request: No Theme: Strangers to Lovers Contains: Panic Attacks, Cursing, Unprotected Sex (don't do this), Loads of Fluff, Angst If You Squint. Word Count: 4,933 Note: MINORS DNI!!!! This is a work of fiction and does not portray any of the members irl. I was thinking to myself, what if my worst nightmare and one of my fantasies collided? Then this came out haha! I know some of the details aren't accurate, this is fiction so don't come for me! 😂

_

You had been wanting to see Stray Kids live for forever. You were a huge STAY, you even (embarrassingly) wrote fan fiction about them on Tumblr. For your birthday your lovely best friends since childhood decided to get you tickets to see them live AND do a fan meeting. One of them said she would come with you (you had gotten her into the group and she is now a proud STAY as well) and it was all the two of you could talk about for weeks.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE WE ARE SEEING THEM TOMORROW I'M GONNA PASS OUT AND/OR CRY I SWEAR TO GOD!" Your bestie had heard you talk about how your were probably going to have a heart attack or spontaneously combust for weeks so, being used to this dialogue, she just laughed and shook her head at your antics.

"If you pass out I'll just throw some water on you so you don't miss too much." She deadpanned. This caused you to crack up hysterically until she joined in and soon the two of you were clutching your ribs from how hard you had been laughing.

"Just 24 more hours and we will be front row watching my favorite boys." You sighed wistfully and your friend just chuckled.

"Yeah, 24 hours!"

~✨~

Your heart was racing as you lined up outside the venue. You had missed the last world tour because you had just gotten into the group and couldn't afford tickets, but that didn't bother you much seeing as this album was astronomy themed. You had worked at an observatory for years but you had just left the job and honestly needed a break from job hunting and what better way to decompress than seeing your favorite boys live.

You were fascinated with the sky so the first time you heard "Hall of Fame" and recognized Neil Armstrong's words you almost passed out. This was the perfect time to see your favorite boys live and you were seriously worried that you might ACTUALLY pass out at some point.

You and your bestie had dressed up for the occasion, wanting to look good for the fan meeting (Jesus the fan meeting you hadn't really thought about it too much, too worried you were going to embarrass yourself)

Once you got into the venue you were starstruck. There was merchandise and STAY's running around, excitement filled the air. You were in awe of it all and if it weren't for your bestie you would've stood there frozen taking it all in for way too long. Luckily she pulled your hand and dragged you over to the line for merchandise.

After spending WAY too much money on memorabilia you decided to head to your seats. You were absolutly buzzing with excitement as you continued forward until you reached your spots. So close to the stage you could practically see the flecks of paint on the stage floor.

"How are we feeling? Excited? Nervous? Pass-outy?" You laughed at your friends made up word.

"Pass-outy? That's ridiculous. But seriously I am just so fucking excited I cannot contain it!" You giggle-screeched and started hopping around a bit. Your friend joined you in your mini-freakout and you both started screaming when the show began to start.

~✨~

The show was AMAZING! Hands-down one of the best experiences of your life. The vocals, the rapping, the DANCING?!!?! You felt like you had died and gone to heaven. You were so star struck and in shock that you were able to be here at all that after the last song was over and they did their (adorable) goodbye speeches you felt glued to the floor, staring with your mouth open until your bestie pulled you out of it. Reminding you of the fan meeting.

The fan meeting.

Where you would get to MEET. THEM.

Excitement and nerves bubbled up within you as your bestie dragged you to the next location to wait in line to meet the boys.

~✨~

You had to wait for forever in line, you had gotten there late because your bestie had to use the bathroom so you were now literally the last people in line. Your nerves were at an all time high. What were you going to say? Your anxiety started to flare up but your bestie calmed you down before you could have a full blown panic attack.

Finally you were next. You'd see Chan first, then Changbin, Lee Know, Han, Felix, Hyunjin, Seungmin, and finally I.N. You could do this, no need to be worried.

You moved a few steps, bestie in tow, and came in front of Bang Chan himself. You smiled and waved a little. He giggled a bit and waved back.

"Hi I'm Bang Chan! And you are?"

"H-hello, I'm Y/N."

"Oh don't mind her, she's nervous! Y/N here is a huge fan! She even writes fanfiction about you guys! She's Y/URL on Tumblr!"

You froze. She did not just tell them your dark secret like that. You two always teased each other but she had no idea how badly this freaked you out. Your eyes were wide, you didn't notice but all the guys were looking at you now with varying expressions from confusion to amusement.

You started breathing a little heavier. Your hand started shaking.

Fuck.

You were about to have a panic attack in front of all eight members of Stray Kids.

You tried calming yourself down but tears began to well up in your eyes. Your breathing got shallower and before you knew it someone was ushering you away from the crowd and into a separate room.

Someone was holding your hand, talking to you calmly. There were other people in the room as well, you couldn't really tell who, your brain was only at half capacity as you fought the urge to sink deeper into your panic. The logical part of your brain realized it was probably your bestie in front of you and security with her to make sure you were okay, but her hands felt a little bigger than normal. You didn't register that fact, you just laid down until your head was in her lap and you began to work through your exercises to bring you out of your panic.

Find five things you can see.

You focused on your skirt, the cute one you decided to wear tonight. The floor, white tile with black designs on it. The security guard, closer to you than anyone else other than your best friend. The plant on the floor next to you, in a cute ceramic pot. Finally the fan on the ceiling, not on but sitting stagnant.

You didn't notice but you were listing things out loud, your brain in too much of a haze to comprehend what was going on.

Four things you can hear.

Your heartbeat, a bit higher than normal but slowing down as you listed things. Your breathing, shallow but more steady than it was before. Your best friend, apologizing and explaining the situation to the security guard, she sounded farther away than you expected. Another voice, saying calming and reassuring things in a gentle low voice.

Three things you can feel.

Your hand on the cool tile floor, lowering your rising body temperature. Your skirt, you take it in your fingers to feel the fabric. A gentle hand running through your hair to calm you down.

Two things you can smell.

The perfume you put on today for the show, peaches, your favorite. Cologne, an unfamiliar scent, definitely not what your bestie had been wearing tonight.

One thing you can taste.

The remnants of the snack you and your bestie shared during the show.

After running through the exercise your brain slowly turned back on and the first thing it registered was that this was NOT your bestie who you were laying on.

You sat up quickly and looked at who had been comforting you for god knows how long and your breath hitched.

Han Jisung.

You were trying to think of what to say but he beat you to it.

"How are you feeling? Do you need anything? Water maybe?" You shyly nodded your head and you saw one of the security guards leave and bring you back a bottle of water. You took a quick sip and looked back to Han.

"I-I am so sorry, I thought you were my friend, I-I didn't realize-" He cut you off

"No worries. I saw you get pale and start shaking back there and I knew what was going on. I get panic attacks too so I figured I might be able to help!" He flashed you a quick smile and ran a hand over the nape of his neck.

You stared at him for much longer than you would've liked, trying to figure out what the actual fuck you were supposed to say in this scenario. The only thing your stupid lizard brain could come up with was "Thank you for letting me use you as a pillow."

What. The. Fuck.

Jesus Christ you are worse than the oblivious girls you wrote about in your little delulu land on Tumblr.

Han just giggled a bit and flashed you his biggest smile.

"I didn't mind, anything to help out a fan!"

Right. A fan, who embarrassingly had a full blown panic attack in front of her favorite band.

Thankfully your bestie came over at that moment to break the awkward silence that had settled over you and Han. Dramatically sobbing she landed on the floor next to you and took your hand in hers.

"Jesus Y/N I am so fucking sorry, I don't know why I said that I didn't mean to freak you out so much-" You cut her off before she had a full mental breakdown too.

"Hey, hey it's okay! I'm okay now, no worries." You smiled at her softly and she took a deep breath.

You all got up off the floor and thanked everyone for helping you out. You figured you must have been out of it for a bit seeing as the room next door was pretty quiet now. Not wanting to waste anyones time you started to head for the door.

"Wait! Y/N, I feel bad you didn't get to say hi to the other guys, would you like me to at least sign something for you?" This boy was a literal angel. Here you were, making his day even longer than he had probably planned on it being and now HE wants to do something nice for YOU?

"You really don't have to do that, I feel bad for making you stick around so long." You sheepishly looked down at the floor. Han walked closer to you until his feet were in your line of vision. You slowly looked up and saw him less than a foot away from you and he smiled again.

"It's no problem at all! I really want to. Please?" Shit you weren't gonna turn down such a golden opportunity. You handed him one of the photocards you got with his picture on it and he kept his hand out, waiting for more things to sign. You giggled and pulled out the three others you got.

All Han. He was after all, your bias.

He chuckled and walked over to a nearby table to sign the fan cards. When he came back he smiled and handed them to you.

"It was lovely to meet you Y/N, I hope to see you again soon."

Then he winked.

He fucking winked at you.

What fanfic bullshittary was this?

~✨~

After security made sure you were okay you and your bestie left and headed back to the hotel you were staying in for the night. You let her have it over telling the band about your fanfic account and she kept apologizing until you finally decided that it was ultimately okay, especially since you got some signatures out of it.

You did not tell her that Han had winked at you. That was just for you.

Finally you got to the hotel room and she started squealing.

"Show me the cards! I want to see his signature!!"

You giggled and pulled them out. The first one was simply signed 'Han'.

The second one said 'Y/N's biggest fan'

You looked at your bestie, thoroughly confused.

"What the hell does that mean?"

Her jaw dropped and she pointed to the third card. It was signed not with his name, but a Tumblr URL.

Your jaw dropped.

No. Fucking. Way.

It was a URL you had seen on so many occasions. Commenting, liking, and reblogging every single one of your fics. Your biggest fan on Tumblr was FUCKING HAN JISUNG?!

You looked at the fourth photocard, it was signed 'Jisung' but on the back there was a note.

'Meet me at the Marriott on Fourth street tonight, room 461 ;)'

Your heart stopped.

You must be dreaming.

There is no way this is real.

Your bestie screams.

"Y/N YOU HAVE TO FUCKING GO OH MY GOD PLEASE GO AND TELL ME WHATEVER YOU CAN TOMORROW!!!!"

Before you can register what is happening she grabs your phone and orders you an uber before pushing you out the door and telling you to 'be safe!'

~✨~

Twenty minutes later you find yourself in front of room 461 at the Marriott on Fourth street. Your nerves are at an all time high as you hesitantly knock on the door half-expecting a serial killer to be on the other side because that would be more plausible than seeing Han Jisung open the door and smile at you before ushering you inside.

Once you get inside you have absolutly no fucking clue what to do other than fiddle with the hem of your skirt and stare at the floor. Han just chuckles and walks over to the bed before plopping down on the mattress.

"I am so glad you came, I have been dying to meet my favorite writer in person for ages now!" Your head snaps in his direction and he has a cocky grin plastered on his face.

"You seriously read my fanfics about you guys?" You are in shock, still half-believing this is all a dream.

"Hell yeah I do! The other guys sometimes read them too, we like to read all the stuff our fans write but you are by far my favorite, especially now that I know for sure I am your bias." Your face pales and you stare at him wide-eyed while he stands up and walks over to you.

"Hey it's okay, I won't bite, unless you want me to of course." And he winks at you again.

You could fucking die on the spot.

Han grabs your hand and leads you over to the bed to sit down. He keeps your hand in his lap and you see a faint blush take his cheeks. He starts to look almost as nervous as you are and you don't think you have ever seen him look so fucking attractive before.

"But seriously Y/N, you're an incredible writer and I am so happy you actually came. Your stories are so great and I honestly just wanted to talk with you about them. Like, where do you get the ideas for the stuff you write?"

It takes you a second to gather your thoughts and answer his question. All that you can about think at the moment is how Han fucking Jisung reads your stories and is currently holding your hand blushing like a god damn schoolboy.

"Well, a lot of what I write are recommendations sent in by other people, but the stuff I come up with honestly just comes to me randomly. Like, I read a lot of fanfiction and I take my favorite tropes and just think about who would fit best and then the story just flows as I go. Honestly half the time I don't even have an end goal in mind, I just write until it feels finished." Now its your turn to blush and look down at your intertwined hands.

Han starts rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand with his thumb as he lets out a small hum.

"That's incredible, you must have an amazing imagination to come up with so many stories."

"Yeah, my mom used to call me a space cadet growing up because I always had my head in the clouds." You chuckled and Han did too.

"That's so cute! Space cadet, I'm definitely going to be using that from now on."

After the initial shock wore off from being in Han's room, the two of you continued talking. First just about your writing, but eventually about movies you both like, T.V. shows, anime, books, and everything else. It was insane how fast you got comfortable with him. Eventually you found yourself laying on the bed next to him, hands still intertwined as you told him about space and you guys talked about the vastness of the cosmos together. Once you had covered almost every topic you could he leaned over to look at you.

"Would you want to stay and maybe watch a movie or something? I really like your company. It can get kinda lonely in these hotel rooms."

"Yeah of course, I like hanging out with you too Han." You smiled at him.

"You can call me Jisung, it's what most of my friends call me." Your heart skipped a beat. Han Jisung just implied you were friends now?

Before you could fully react Jisung got up and grabbed the T.V. remote before settling back on the bed, sitting against the headboard. He patted the spot next to him and you climbed up to sit next to him while he scrolled through the channels to find something for the two of you to watch.

He eventually saw Howl's Moving Castle and looked over to you. You nodded and giggled as he pushed play.

The two of you watched the movie in peaceful quiet, commenting on the story here and there. About a third of the way through Jisung's hand found yours again and he pulled it into his lap, pulling you a little closer to him in the process. After a few minutes he switched the hand that was holding yours so he could wrap his arm around you, you settled into his side and rested your head on his shoulder, smiling as you heard him let out a content sigh.

The two of you stayed cuddled up like that for the rest of the movie. You started to get a little tired by the end but when would you ever be in this position again? So you pushed through the drowsiness overcoming your body and finished out the movie mostly awake.

Once the movie was over you shifted a bit to look at Jisung. "I should probably head out, its really late." Jisung looked a little sad for a moment.

"What if you stayed here tonight? I could get you a car to take you home tomorrow? We are in town for another show tomorrow, maybe we could even do this again?" He looked hopeful. You smiled and nuzzled into his side.

"Yeah okay, I doubt I could get a ride at this hour anyway."

Jisung absolutly beamed at your response and sat up stretching his back.

"Yay sleepover!" He started laughing. "If you'd like, I have some clothes you could change into to be a bit more comfortable?"

"Yeah that would be great!"

"There's some facewash in the bathroom too you can use!"

With that Jisung got up and grabbed you one of his big tee shirts and a pair of boxers to change into. You got changed in the bathroom and washed your face. Your mind was racing with so many thoughts but the moment you came back into the room and saw Jisung snuggled under the blankets all you could think of was how lucky you were to get this experience.

You climbed into bed next to Jisung and he turned to look at you. "Y/N?"

You turned to him and smiled. "Yes Jisung?"

"Can we- I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but can we cuddle?" You giggled at his bashfulness.

"Yeah Jisung, we can cuddle." He let out a cute squeal of happiness and scooted towards you so he could wrap his arms around you. You snuggled your face into his chest and he let out a sigh of happiness.

"Goodnight Y/N."

"Goodnight Jisung."

~✨~

The next morning went so quickly. You and Jisung had to wake up way too early for your liking. Jisung got you a car like he promised and made sure you were coming back later that night. You swore you would and he gave you a big hug before ushering you into the car so he could go do a million things before their concert.

When you got back to the hotel room your bestie was still sleeping so you just got into the other bed and crashed. Still exhausted from staying up all night with Jisung.

In your dreams you were a princess in medieval times. You were lonely until one day your knight in shining armor showed up (Jisung of course) and he swept you off your feet. You had a forbidden romance because you were engaged to some prince you had never met from a faraway land. But in the end Jisung was actually the prince! He had come early to meet you under false pretenses to judge your character and he found you to be the perfect wife and you lived happily ever after. Until an earthquake hit. The ground shaking, loud noises all around you. More shaking.

And you woke up. To your bestie shaking you awake. Out of your lovely dream and into reality.

A reality where you quickly remembered, you had stayed with Jisung last night.

Holy fuck that actually happened?

"BITCH TELL ME EVERYTHING, WHEN DID YOU GET BACK?!"

After a long ass conversation where you told your bestie all the details you decided (well really she told you you had to) go hang out with Jisung again that night.

You decided to stay in the hotel all day with your bestie watching shitty rom-coms and laughing about all the cringey tropes movies use to catch your attention. You were just about crawling out of your skin trying to process the last 48 hours and decided to have a chill day to prepare for the long night ahead of you.

~✨~

It was about 11:30PM by the time you got an uber over to Jisung's hotel and you still were convinced that this was all a dream, but as you walked up to his door you were sure that this was in fact reality and you were going to the Han Jisung's room at almost midnight in just a hoodie and leggings. You seriously considered going back to your hotel to change but you suddenly heard a loud thud on the other side of the door and you reached up to knock on the door to make sure everything was alright.

When Jisung opened the door he had that huge smile on his face again and he pulled you in for a hug immediately, letting the door shut behind you.

"Oh my god I'm so glad you came I was worried you wouldn't show!" you started giggling and hugged him back.

"Of course I came silly, I would be an idiot not to! Plus I'm excited to see what movie you have for us tonight!" He giggled back and pulled away from the hug to walk over to the bed.

"I am feeling a bit daring tonight, how about we watch a scary movie?" You walked over and sat on the bed next to him.

"Okay but if I jump you have to promise not to make fun of me!" He giggled at that and grabbed the TV remote.

"Of course not! I'll just laugh in my head." You playfully slapped his arm and he dramatically fell onto the bed like he had just been shot which caused you to double over and laugh loudly.

He finally got up and turned on the TV searching through the horror movies.

"See anything you like?" Looking straight at him you replied a simple "Yeah." He looked up and saw you staring at him and giggled a little bit before picking a movie and turning it on.

You both leaned back and Jisung moved his arm behind you to hold onto you. You smiled and leaned into him as the movie played.

After about 30 minutes you realized that Jisung was just as afraid of horror movies as you were. You would both jump at the same time, yelp, and hold onto each other tighter as the scenes played out.

By the time the movie ended the two of you were completely tangled on the bed. You were almost half in his lap from the amount of times you burrowed into him during the scary scenes.

"Y/N? You okay?" Jisung looked down at where you had burrowed into his chest.

"Yeah, I just won't be able to sleep ever again so there's that." You both started laughing and his grip on you grew a little tighter.

"Well, no worries, you can stay here with me, I can protect you." He said with a sheepish smile on his face.

"But what about tomorrow? You're leaving so I'll have to sleep alone again." You said somberly. You looked up at him and he had a sad smile on his face.

Jisung lifted his hand and pushed the hair out of your face, then he let his hand linger on your cheek. He looked like he was contemplating something until you looked down at his lips. Then he slowly leaned in and kissed you.

You let yourself fall into the kiss, your arms wrapping tighter around him. He pulled you closer into him until you both pulled away for air. He leaned his forehead on yours.

"Would it be crazy if I asked you to come with us?" He whispered. His breath tickling your face.

"Would it be crazy if I said I would?" You breathed out. You heard his breath hitch and before you could process what was happening he had flipped you so you were laying on the bed with him hovering above you, his forehead pressed against yours again.

"Don't play with me love, I'm serious. Come with us. You can stay with me every night and I'll pay for your plane tickets and everything."

Holy fuck he was serious. You thought about it for a moment. You didn't have a job, you were month-to-month on your apartment so you could leave pretty much whenever. It's not like you had anything tying you down.

But then...

"What if you get sick of me? I'd have nowhere to go."

"Baby I'd never get sick of you, and if you ever want to leave I would pay for you to come home. I just don't want this to end." He leaned down and kissed you softly. Then he whispered, his lips touching yours, "I can't say goodbye yet."

You sadly smiled at the desperation, the sadness in his voice. You didn't want this to end either.

Instead of replying you pulled him down to you in a searing kiss. He reciprocated almost immediately and the kiss grew more heated. The two of you were tangled together in the most heated makeout session you'd ever had. He pulled away just long enough to rip his shirt off and throw it somewhere in the room. You eventually did the same.

After that everything was a blur of clothes flying and messy kisses. Eventually the both of you were completely naked and feeling each other up, hands roaming across one another's bodies. Finally Jisung slipped inside you and you both let out a breath you weren't aware you were holding.

He stilled inside you once he bottomed out and looked into your eyes.

"You are so beautiful."

You let a single tear fall as he began moving. The two of you panting and moaning as he set a steady speed. Sex had never been like this for you, it was like you breathed as one. You were gripping onto him in any way you could, grabbing his biceps, his waist, his face.

His thrust started to become erratic the longer you went, his hips getting a little sloppy to signal he was close. His hand came down to rub circles on your clit to get you there faster. You cried out in extasy as you felt the band in your lower belly snap. Jisung followed after a few more thrusts and laid his head down on your chest, his dick still settled inside you, slowly softening.

You both looked at each other and smiled. He pecked your nose, then your cheeks, and finally your lips before getting up to get a washrag to clean you both up.

You didn't know how long this would last, but you decided that you wanted to ride out this feeling as long as you could. So after you were both cleaned up and he settled in the bed next to you, you turned to face him.

"I'll come with you Ji, anywhere you are is where I want to be."

#skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #han jisung smut #jisung smut #han jisung hard hours #han jisung hard thoughts

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

The Magnus Archives/ What We Do In the Shadows (Crossover)

gaslight gatekeep girlboss by thepolysyndetonaddictsupportgroup

"Look, believe it or not, I had no intention of killing the Vampiric Council when I came here,” declares Nadja, sitting alone on the couch. “But Guillermo and I arrived at the first council meeting and did the whole, you know, the whole thing, the first day thing. Introductions and all that, yes hello wonderful to meet you, yes this is my bodyguard, yes he has slaughtered a tremendous number of our kind”--she flaps her hand absently--“normal first day things, you know? It was fine.” She pauses. “It got really fucking weird on the second day."

Or: Nadja and Guillermo seize control of vampiric politics, puppeteer world powers, and have the hottest of hot girl summers.

Unfortunately, they also really miss the stupid assholes they're in love with. With no way left to find them, they have no choice but to consult an Archivist.

DC/Danny Phantom Crossover

Teenage Hero Burnout #56: Interview With A Ghost. by STOVE

Red Robin, (aka Tim Drake) decides to host a YouTube series called "Teenage Hero Burnout'' after he makes a video by the same name talking about his own experiences. He interviews current and past heroes who started their careers as teens and discuss how it shaped their outlook on heroing & life in general.

(This fic is a one-shot. Teenage Hero Burnout is a hypothetical series that I will not be writing, but others are welcome to write their own episodes.)

All For the Game

One More Time (With Feeling) by elesary

Andrew Minyard went to sleep next to Neil Josten in their bed in Denver six years after graduation. He woke up on plane to Tucson between Wymack and Kevin, on their way to recruit Neil Josten, striker sub.

boyfriend privileges by mostly_maudlin

Andrew knows he treats Neil different. So why is it so bothersome that everyone else seems to know it, too?

Five times Neil gets boyfriend privileges, and one time it doesn't piss Andrew off.

SVSSS

The Peace Between Divine Pec- ah-hm sorry - uh…Peaks by AceOfDivineChlorophyll

Well, being kidnapped and tied up had to be the worst part of Shen Qingqiu's day right? Surely it couldn't get worse even if he was being presented to some new and upcoming demonic warlord as tribute after all it would all be mote when Luo Binghe escaped the Endless Abyss right? Well... unless the demonic warlord in question WAS Luo Binghe.

Thankfully... it might not end up going at all how he, or the demons, thought it was going to.

invasive blindfold removal surgery by postcardorigami

Part 1 of side effects may include indefinite photosensitivity

Oh, he thought absently, dizzily. Oh. I love him. I really, really love him.

That wasn’t a new thought—Shen Qingqiu had always known that he loved Luo Binghe. Thinking otherwise wasn’t a concept that had occurred to him. He’d loved him as a fictional character, as a sticky and eager-to-please disciple, as a troubled young man. He loved Luo Binghe the same way he loved the world around him: easily, wordlessly, endlessly, and in full acceptance of all faults and flaws.

But this- this felt like-

I think, Shen Qingqiu thought, for the first time in this life or the one he’d left, I think I’m in love with him.

And- and then-

I want to tell him where I come from.

or Shen Qingqiu, in order: hits the ground, pulls himself back up, and comes out. About several things.

Dreaming of Gardens in the Desert Sand by TGP

Huan Hua Palace master Luo Binghe never thought there'd be any reason to worry about the master that threw him away all those years ago. Surely, he was safe and cared for by the martial siblings he'd so thoroughly enamored.

Luo Binghe was wrong.

(Or, the one where the Jinlan City event doesn't happen and Luo Binghe's plan to slowly show he can be a righteous cultivator actually goes as he expected, with consequences he did not)

starry-eyed by shoutowo

"Shi-Shizun,” Luo Binghe says, going cross-eyed in an effort to see what Shen Qingqiu just placed on his forehead. “What is this?”

“A star,” Shen Qingqiu explains, while not explaining at all.

or, Shen Qingqiu has a sticker sheet.

Clone Wars

(you were) meant to save them by cjwritesfanficnow

The building was only five stories. With the gravity on Melida/Daan, it should’ve been over in seconds... but he—

just—

kept—

falling—

And then there was nothing around him, but he was still falling, down down down, infinitely, through space, stretched thin, twisted and pulled and the Force curled so tightly around him that he couldn’t tell where he ended and it began, and then—

And then he was falling straight out of a clear sky and down down down—

Onto another battlefield.

-

In which Obi-Wan is abruptly transported from the civil war on Melida/Daan to the Clone Wars.

(Alternately, in which I noticed how few clones there are in all my other fics, and this wouldn't leave me alone.)

Tactical Engagements by elwenyere

Even before he managed to open his eyes, Obi-Wan felt the tug against the base of his neck, the snarled thread of energy that only ever meant one thing: something had gone very, very wrong.

-----

Or, Cody, Obi-Wan, and the 212th are sent to Ringo Vinda with Anakin and the 501st, and it changes the field of engagement.

#i cannot believe it's december TOMORROW #that feels... incorrect #what do you mean it's going to be 2024 soon #what's a made up year #my posts #fic recs #weekly fic round up #sw recs #svsss recs #dc recs #dp recs #wwdits recs #tma recs #misc recs #aftg recs #i read for too many fandoms smh

[aquared46]

Left Unsaid

Note: AO3 is down, life is pain. My fics are normally locked to registered users, but in these trying times, I wanted to share some here (godspeed to the volunteers from AO3; you are fandom's lifeblood.

TW: blood, needles

Summary: Neil begins to practice with knives again and all does not go as planned.

The pull of thread through his skin was what finally calmed Neil’s racing heart. His hands steadied, the burn of alcohol in his stomach a strange comfort. A bottle of vodka pilfered from Kevin’s stash sat beside Neil on the sink, which was littered with bloody gauze that he used to stanch the bleeding and painkillers that wouldn’t kick in well or fast enough. The alcohol wouldn’t dull the pain – not unless he drank enough – but then he wouldn’t be able to take care of the wound anyway. Still, there was something to be said for the placebo effect, even if he knew that’s all it was.

He tied off another stitch, took another gulp of the alcohol, then continued. Neil and his mother were only able to stop and bandage their wounds like this unless they were safe – safe enough, that is. He could almost feel her beside him again, hands clinical and as she tended to him.

“Stupid,” he whispered to himself – but the inflection, the tone, all belonged to her.

The injury would put him out of practice for at least two weeks. Even he wasn’t foolish enough to think he could hide the gash spanning halfway across his palm. He wouldn’t last half-an-hour on the court without tearing it open in his gloves, and someone was sure to notice the pain while he was playing, even if no one noticed the bandages before that. The last time Neil hid an injury, Wymack threatened to take him off the court for twice as long as it took him to heal, and Neil was sure he’d follow through on the threat if he did it again. Especially so early in the season.

The familiar motions of fixing himself up calmed him better than counting ever could. This was something Neil was good at. Something that he hated, but something that gave him focus. Clean up meant that the worst of it was over – for now. A brief reprieve.

Neil used to wish he could stop time. That he could stay frozen in those brief moments with his mother – in crappy motels or dingy gas station bathrooms – where he could breathe, feel the comfort of her running a hand through his hair and pushing his aching body toward a bed or a car for much needed rest. Because soon enough, they’d be tracked down again.

That was how Neil felt now. Hunted. He knew when he chose to stay at Palmetto he’d deal with more threats to his life. The FBI continued their investigation, hurtling towards trials against his father’s associates in which Neil would testify.

Neil was used to his life being at stake. Except now he couldn’t bear to lose everything for a second time. So, when the FBI called to inform him that they were taking additional security measures due to substantiated threats, Neil decided to take his safety into his own hands as well.

And that’d gone even worse than he thought it could.

Now Neil had to clean the blood off one of Andrew’s knives as well as the carpet, and explain to Wymack that he wasn’t able to play because he’d been practicing with knives for the first time in years.

Neil heard the front door to their dorm close. He finished bandaging the wound, then heaved himself off the toilet. The room spun momentarily. He hadn’t lost nearly enough blood to be so affected, but the earlier panic mixed the alcohol wasn’t doing him any favours. He tossed the bloodied gauze in the trash and wiped down the counter until it was pristine again. Then he cleaned the knife carefully, knowing how much Andrew cared for them.

There was pounding on the door before he finished.

“I need the bathroom,” Kevin demanded.

“And I need another minute,” Neil said. He wrapped the blade in a towel, considering the fact that Kevin wouldn’t like the image of Neil bloody and holding a knife anymore than he did.

There was a grumble and footsteps as Kevin backed off. There was a pause, then he raised his voice from further away. “Why is there blood?”

“I’m fine,” Neil said. Except there was blood staining the front of his orange shirt where he held his hand against it to initially stop the bleeding. It stuck to his skin. Neil wanted to hop in the shower and wash the feeling and the scent away, but he didn’t have the forethought to bring a spare pair of clothes in with him.

Neil checked to make sure the bathroom was tidy one more time. He tucked the remainder of the vodka under his arm, stepped out, and met Kevin’s appraising gaze.

“You’re fine,” Kevin said. He ignored the bundle Neil was carrying in his good hand and instead focused on the bandage wrapped around his injured one. “Can you play?”

“No,” he spat, hating the answer more than Kevin ever could. Neil pushed past him. He placed the bundled knife on his bed.

“How long?” Kevin asked. “How bad?”

Neil shoved the vodka bottle back at Kevin, making him almost drop it. “Not long. Not bad.”

Kevin at least relaxed a little at that. “What’s not bad? What were you doing? You know if this happened when we had any games what this could mean for you? For the team? For –”

“I know,” Neil said. He pushed past Kevin to his dresser, where he pulled out a change of clothes.

Kevin followed after him. “Then why –”

Neil retreated back into the bathroom and slammed the door in his face. It took Kevin a few seconds to knock again, no more politely than the first time.

“I still need the bathroom!”

“Find another one.”

~ ~ ~

Kevin hadn’t returned by the time Neil got out of the shower. But Andrew had. Neil hadn’t heard him come back. But he was sitting on Neil’s bed, examining his knife with a bland expression.

Glancing at the clock, Neil could see they still had a couple hours before they were supposed to be in practice, but that also meant that Andrew was supposed to be in class. Instead, he was here, looking like he couldn’t care less that Neil was standing next to the drying bloodstain he left on the carpet.

Kevin must’ve messaged him.

Neil tossed his dirty clothes into a bag so they wouldn’t bleed on the rest of his laundry and decided to deal with them later. He pulled on a pair of running shoes, feeling Andrew’s eyes on him.

“Staring,” he said.

Andrew stood, stepping into Neil’s space. “Where are you running off to?”

“Store,” Neil said. He nodded towards the stain. “Need supplies.” It’d been so long since he had to clean up his own blood, he wondered if he set a record for himself.

Andrew backed away, put on his shoes, slid the knife into his armband, and grabbed a box of cigarettes.

“You coming?” Neil asked.

Andrew didn’t answer. He headed out, leaving Neil to catch up after locking their door. He lit up just before they left the dorm, exhaling a puff of smoke as the door swung shut behind them. Neil snagged the cigarette and Andrew let it go without comment, simply shaking another one from his pack.

The smell helped chase away the anxiety that was creeping back up on him. Neil and Andrew spent almost every night up on the roof smoking since Neil received the call from the FBI. The circles under Andrew’s eyes were almost as bad a Neil’s, but he had yet to complain. He’d watched Neil closely this past week, like he was waiting for him to finally give into his urge to run.

Neil chose to stay months ago, and he wasn’t going back on that decision now.

The on-campus store didn’t have everything Neil wanted, but he would make do. He doubted he’d be the first or the last fox to leave a bloodstained floor behind. If it didn’t come out, they could throw a rug over it.

Andrew grabbed himself a couple pints of ice cream, as well as some candy bars to add to his stash. They left with their respective bags, Neil’s filled with cleaning supplies and a bag of mixed nuts Andrew dropped into his basket without comment. He ate them on the way back to the dorm, feeling significantly better once he had something in his stomach.

Back at the dorm, Andrew settled on Neil’s bottom bunk with crossed legs, spoon already digging into the first pint of ice cream – double chocolate fudge. He watched Neil as he pulled out the cleaning supplies and set to work.

After a few minutes, the stain looked significantly better, but Neil would be lucky if he managed to get it out of the carpet. It was fine. When Neil was on the run, they just had to clean up enough that questions wouldn’t be asked until they were long-gone. Not that anyone in those cheap hotels would stick their nose into anything they didn’t have to. It wasn’t like they had a professional-grade carpet cleaner, not like when they lived with Neil’s father – where everything would be wiped away and made pristine in case of unwanted guests.

Neil jolted as something ice-cold pressed against the back of his neck. He spun to see Andrew, spoon stuck in his mouth as he held his pint out. Now that he had Neil’s attention, he settled back on the bed and dug in for another bite.

Neil finished the job and gathered all the trash, including his bloodied gauze from earlier. After some deliberation, he added his ruined shirt. The pants were dark-coloured and salvageable, but the same couldn’t be said for the vibrant orange Palmetto shirt, as much as Neil liked it. Andrew passed him the empty pint of ice cream to add to the bag, then grabbed the next one.

“Try not to get lost on your way back,” Andrew said. In other words, he’d be waiting for Neil.

He made the trip quickly, not even pausing when his phone vibrated in his pocket. Andrew wouldn’t be the one messaging him, and he didn’t feel like talking to anyone else, especially if it was Kevin ordering him to do things he already knew he had to do. Like see Abby.

He managed not to get lost in his own head and made the short trip to the dumpster and back without being assassinated, otherwise harmed, or running into another one of the Foxes. Small victories. By the time he collapsed onto his bed beside Andrew, he felt wrung out.

He pillowed his head with his good hand and watched Andrew methodically pick his way through his second pint of ice cream. Once finished, Andrew set it down where it’d be in Kevin’s line of sight, which would no doubt spark another rant about healthy sugar intake and professional athlete’s diets.

Andrew reached for Neil’s hand, fingers chilled from holding the pints. Neil didn’t resist as Andrew unwrapped his bandage, viewing the damage Neil did to himself.

“I’d have thought you’d know better than to play with knives,” he said.

“I know what I’m doing,” Neil said.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“It’s been years since I’ve handled them.” He hated practicing when he was a child, always knowing he wouldn’t perform well enough and be punished for it. When he and his mother ran, he stopped training. As she said, the only thing he needed to know about knives was where to stick one to do the most damage. Other than that, the most important weapon in their arsenal was the single gun they had between the two of them. His mother usually carried it, but she still taught Neil how to aim and shoot in case he ever needed to.

Andrew wrapped Neil’s hand back up, returning it to him. “More fox than rabbit now? Finally showing your teeth?”

“Something like that.” Neil cradled his hand to his chest. “I’d rather not.”

“Then why?”

Neil shrugged. “I don’t have much of a choice.”

That finally got a frown. “Explain.”

When Neil didn’t respond, Andrew huffed and laid down next to him, scant inches between the two of them. Andrew kept his gaze on Neil, letting him look his fill without complaint. Andrew wouldn’t repeat himself, instead waiting for Neil to either answer or deflect.

“I want to be ready if they come for me again,” Neil said. “I refuse to run. But I can’t do nothing either.”

“You chose to fight.”

Neil nodded.

“Idiot. You do realize you don’t have to fight alone?” Andrew reached out slow enough that Neil could pull away if he wanted to. Andrew cool fingers brushed a line against Neil’s throat. “Have someone with you.”

They both knew Andrew was the only one Neil would trust to see him like that.

Neil couldn’t help but smile. “You just want to steal my knife skills.”

“What knife skills? I see no skill here.”

Neil sat up and held out his hand. After a moment, Andrew withdrew a knife and passed it to him. Neil let himself focus on how the knife felt in his hand, warmed from being close to Andrew’s skin. It belonged to Andrew, not Neil’s father. He refused to continue allowing his dead father to hold this over his head – especially when this was something that could save the life Neil put so much blood and sweat into creating.

His movements were still awkward, but the remembrance of the skill he used to carry was still there. After a few moments, Neil found the balance of the blade and threw it at dartboard he was practicing on earlier. It sunk far enough off-centre that some old part of Neil curled up, awaiting pain.

He shoved that down and turned to face Andrew. “Work in progress,” Neil said.

Andrew hummed without inflection. He eyed the knife in the dartboard for a moment more, then closed a hand around Neil’s wrist and pulled him back down onto the bed. “Yes or no?”

“Yes.” Neil pressed his hands into the bed as Andrew leaned over him. He arched into the kiss – all-devouring, a mixture of tongue and teeth that left Neil’s legs feeling weak.

Andrew steadied himself with an elbow beside Neil’s head, their chests almost touching. Andrew’s other hand cupped Neil’s cheek, thumb swiping over the burns on Neil’s face gently. Then he pushed Neil’s face to the side for access to his neck.

“Oh,” Neil breathed as Andrew’s lips pressed against his throat. “You liked that.”

“Shut up,” Andrew said, nipping hard enough to leave a mark.

Neil wouldn’t have listened, but Andrew’s mouth met his again, and then he couldn’t think of anything instead of returning the kiss. His palm ached from when he was gripping the sheets, but he couldn’t bring himself to care when he could feel the warmth of Andrew’s body all around him.

“Shoulders and up,” Andrew said against Neil’s lips. He relaxed down far enough that their chests were moving together as they breathed in tandem, but not enough to truly put his weight on Neil.

Neil threaded his fingers through Andrew’s hair, then dropped one hand to brace against his shoulder. Neil lost himself in the kiss, his world narrowing down to the way Andrew felt against him, the faint taste of chocolate on his tongue, the spicy scent of Andrew’s deodorant, the sound of their combined breathing and Neil’s cut-off moans, and the starbursts behind his closed eyelids as Andrew took him apart.

Once Andrew pulled away, Neil cracked his eyes open and stared at the bars of the top bunk. He licked his kiss-swollen lips, feeling loose-limbed and floaty. He turned back towards Andrew, noting the flush on his cheeks and the mess Neil made of his hair. He grinned.

Andrew didn’t even open his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m not,” Neil lied.

Neil wouldn’t let what they had slip through his fingers. He said he would stay, and he’d do everything he could to do to keep that promise. He’d fight in every way he was capable of.

A word sat heavy on his tongue – on his mind – coaxing and deceptively alluring despite the weight it would carry for both of them. Neil didn’t utter the words. He cut them off before they could fully articulate into thoughts. There were certain things he wasn’t ready for – didn’t know he’d ever be ready for.

To feel was one thing. To put into words was another.

But maybe that word was just another thing he was running from. He’d fought the memory of his father to reclaim the knives he wielded, and maybe that word was something he’d need to fight to reclaim from his mother.

#andreil #all for the game #aftg #aftg fic

[buckysgrace]

Chapter One

This is the first chapter to my fic Cruel Summer. There are more chapters on my AO3 if anyone is interested in catching up there faster! This chapter is the shortest and a bit of a filler but I hope you enjoy it!

Billy X Fem!MayfieldOC (Includes Stepcest, smut and violence so please read to your own discretion.)

“Look,” Kim moved Addi’s legs to the side, water still dripping off her one piece as she held out her journal towards her, “I’ve got it all mapped out.”

“Fuck, that’s cold!” Addi cursed sitting up from where she was sun tanning. Kim smiled apologetically, not actually meaning to get the water on her. The girls had taken to hanging around the pool as the mall had proven to be too dangerous for their wallets. Their first paycheck had been quickly blown at the mall. “Seems like a solid plan, but you know in order to attract male gazes,” She quoted from your writing, “You probably need to wear those bikinis we bought and not the one piece your mom got you,” To make a point she pulled on the skirt of Kim’s one piece.

Kim gaped at her, “This is very cute,” She mumbled rubbing her hands down over the frills on top of the suit. All of her new and “mature” clothes currently sat hanging in the back of her closet with the tags still on them. Her confidence of wearing them outside had been quickly diminished when she had overheard Neil talking to her mother about the slutty clothes girls wear now while giving her a pointed look.

No, she was unsure if those outfits would ever see daylight.

“Right, it’s cute. You need sexy!” Addi pushed her long black hair behind her shoulders. She had chosen to wear one of the bikinis she had picked out at the mall. The current one was a light blue that contrasted nicely against her brown skin. The two girls may have been spending their days at the pool, but Addi hated the water and never did much more than dip her toes in and watch as Kim swam laps.

“I know,” Kim moaned pushing her wet, red hair back, “It’s just so hard, I’m scared people will sit there and laugh,” She sighed, rubbing her pale, freckled arms feeling a sudden chill come over her despite the hot sun beating down on her back.

“You just need to do it. How else is Steve Harrington going to notice you and get in your pants?” Addi questioned scanning over her journal again.

“Get in whose pants?” The deep voice that appeared from behind caused Addi to slam the journal shut and clutch it to her chest. Kim jumped, feeling her heart race as she tried to think of some excuse as she peered up at her older brother glaring down at them.

If she would even call him that. 

Kim didn’t have the worst relationship with Billy, but it wasn’t the best either. They sort of had some understanding and had some sort of shared bonding over their hatred of Neil. Billy was the only one who would allow her at times to clean up his cuts and bruises. And as a result he stuck up for her the most when Neil would try and critique her weight, looks and habits.

Still, it didn’t feel like they were close in a way that siblings would be. Her feelings towards him were so very different than the feelings she felt towards her baby sister, Max. 

Billy stood there in his life guard uniform, if you could even call it that, his red shorts clinging to his hips and his whistle resting comfortably between his pecs. He had pushed his sunglasses over his blonde curls and blew out smoke at the two of them as he awaited an answer. 

The two girls glanced at each other, both waiting for the other to make some excuse, before looking back up at him and answering in unison.

“Nothing!”

Billy huffed then motioned towards the journal, which Addi had a death grip on, “What’s that?” They both looked at each other again.

“Homework,” Kim finally spoke up, raising her hazel eyes to meet his piercing blue ones. She always felt like he could look right into her and know the truth without saying it.

“School has been out for two weeks,” He spoke up before putting his cigarette out. Kim’s eyes flickered to behind him where the group of mothers were looking at him like he was the last meal they would ever have. She shrugged and smiled sheepishly.

“It’s never too early to get a head start?”

“Shouldn’t you be watching the brats and I don’t know, making sure they don’t drown?” Addi asked dryly, leaning back in her chair and resting her legs over Kim’s. She relaxed softly, grateful for her friend. They had both met last year and bonded over their similarities. Both had come into the school year at the same time, and moved from different parts of California. She was more brash and bold, but still had a soft heart that she kept locked up behind big walls. She had been the one to suggest they both have an unruly summer before school starts.

Billy laughed, flicking his tongue over his teeth, “I’m on break but thank you for your concern,” He looked back at Kim, “What do you want with Steve Harrington?” She wished she could scream.

“Nothing, just seems like a nice guy,” She tried to reply as casually as she could. She knew he was a sore subject for Billy. They had some sort of competition last year that resulted in the both of them getting burned. Kim felt like she got part of the backlash as well. Everytime she went to Scoops Ahoy she’d watch as he’d flirt with girl after girl but when it came to her, he always deadpanned and referred to her as Kimberely before scooping out her mint chocolate chip ice cream.

She was determined to change that this summer.

“Yeah, pretty boy will only want one thing from you,” He leaned down until he was inches away from her face and looked over her face with his piercing eyes, “Stay away from him,” As quickly as he appeared, he left heading towards the concession stand. She scoffed, shaking her head.

“Can you believe him?” She groaned as she reached for her journal, she looked up to see Addi still watching him, “Addi!” Addi jumped and thrust the book back at her. She knew the effect that Billy had over people, and she had yet to find someone that didn’t swoon the first time that he opened his charming gaze to them.

“Damn, sorry. He is hot though,” She shrugged and Kim groaned, shoving her journal back into the safety of her bag. She wasn’t the first person to say that, and Kim knew she wasn’t the last. Kim always felt awkward, but she hated to admit that it was true. Billy had always been good looking and he knew it too. She had to live through constantly seeing the different girls he brought back and listening to their “happy screams” as Max would giggle and call it.

“He’s the reason Steve hates me,” Kim groaned, crossing her ankles. Addi shook her head.

“Steve doesn’t hate you, he’s just indifferent right now. I’m telling you, once you show up in that cute little dress you got he’s going to lose his mind,” She smiled sweetly, gripping Kim’s hand.

“You really think so?” She smiled hopefully and Addi nodded again. Steve had been the first guy to give her any attention when she moved here, not that she really qualified that as him being into her. He was being more polite than anything, guiding her from the front office to her first class of the day. He had been with Nancy Wheeler at that time, now, she had heard that they had split and felt like it was okay to make a move on him. Nancy was with Jonathan now anyways, she didn’t see what the problem could have been.

Until Billy.

“Of course I do and if he doesn’t - fuck him. You’re beautiful and there’s a guy out there for you. Even if it isn’t Steve,” She proclaimed. Kim nodded feeling a bit better about it, but she truly hoped it was Steve.

“I gotta leave a little early today,” Addi spoke up again grabbing her bag, “I told mom I’d help make tamales. Argyle should be here soon, we can drop you off at home if you want?” She asked, looking at her. Kim considered her offer for a moment.

Today was Neil’s day off. That meant lots of tense and unbearable hours as she would try and not make herself known in the house. She shook her head.

“No, I want to swim for a while longer. Thanks for the offer though, I’ll see you at work tomorrow?” They both worked as waitresses on the morning shift at Patsy’s Diner and insisted that they needed the same shifts in order to get through the day.

Addi nodded and leaned down to give her a hug right as Argyle pulled his van up and began honking obnoxiously. Kim laughed, watching as Addi rushed out but still managed to flip him the finger.

Now, Kim took in her choices. She could wait a few more hours, then head back home on foot with the hot sun beating down on her unbearably.

Or

She could oh so sweetly ask Billy for a ride home, of course that meant waiting a few more hours until his shift ended and probably having to assist him with locking the place up for free, but it also meant not getting a huge sunburn over her back again.

So she took a deep breath, and headed towards the break rooms where he liked to sit back and do God knows what. Goosebumps raced up her arms as the cool air hit her. She waved towards Heather as she moved towards the dark room and hoped that Billy wouldn’t try to ask about Steve anymore.

Kim pushed on the handle, but the door remained shut. She furrowed her eyebrows together, confused as to why it would need to be locked in the first place.

“Hey,” She walked back up to Heather, smiling apologetically. The other girl barely spared her a glance before looking back down at your nails, “Can I use your key to get into the supply room? I think that’s where Billy went and I need to ask him something,”

“Did you knock?” She questioned, smacking her gum but pulling her key out of her bag regardless. Kim shook her head.

“I figured he’d ignore me if he knew it was me,” She grinned and thanked her, before stalking back to the room, wondering if this was even worth the hassle. She could just wait until the end of his shift anyways and force him to take her home. Then again, she may get stuck in the car with him and whichever girl he decided was worth his time.

She stared at the door for a moment before quietly sticking the key in and turning it until she heard it unlock. She pressed her ear against the door, listening for a moment to try and hear what he was doing. She furrowed her eyebrows again, hearing nothing but heavy breathing.

Her fingers wrapped around the doorknob as she considered her options again. One last deep breath and she pushed the door open wide.

“Hey, Billy-” Her words jumbled in her throat and her mind blanked as she stared at the image in front of her. 

Billy had jumped so far that his back slammed against one of the metal storage racks, sending goggles and life jackets tumbling onto the floor. His cheeks were flushed, and the fly of his shorts unzipped, with his hand quickly trying to shove himself back into his shorts.

“You brat! You couldn’t be a normal person and fucking knock?” He yelled harshly, giving her a dirty look. Kim noticed he was flushed all the way down his neck and couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or from something else.

“I um-” Words couldn’t seem to come to Kim as the image of him holding his cock in his hand seemed to burn itself in her mind.

“Needed these,” She muttered awkwardly, picking up a pair of bright green, square goggles that had landed in front of her feet. “Thanks,” She muttered, looking anywhere but at him as she moved, slower than normal, and shut the door behind her. 

Once the door clicked shut she moved with haste before he could come out and say anything else. What was his problem? Who does that?

“Hey- Hey my key!” Heather shouted after her. Kim stopped so fast that she thought that her flip flops may go flying off. She gulped hard, turned and thrusted Heather’s key back towards her quickly. 

She quickly gathered her things, deciding that anywhere would be better than spending the rest of the evening anywhere around Billy.

God, she was so fucked.

#Billy Hargrove #Billy Hargrove smut #billy hargrove x oc #billy hargrove x original character #tw stepcest #Stepcest #stepcest cw #billy hargrove deserved better

[foxgloveinspace]

Spoonie Neil headcanons (pt. 1/?)

Hey I decided to write this, and probably won’t be updating this headcanon series, sorry guys!! (You have to be logged into ao3 to read it)

It all starts when Abby jokingly says ‘and remember, the normal amount of pain is no pain’ as they get ready to start a game. He rolls his eyes at first, but then that night when he really thinks about it he starts to wonder to himself

Is the pain I remember having constantly from a life on the run and then a life of constant practice?

He takes a couple nights off of extra practice, making Kevin pissed at him, and Andrew silently concerned, but him pulling back in day practice as well has most of the team on edge for the week it keeps up.

On that Saturday he walks into Abby’s office and sits on her table, and looks her right in the eye and says ‘I have pain all the time. I have been in constant pain since I was a kid. I don’t know if it’s something my dad did, or if I’ve always been like this.’

She’s concerned. Duh.

They do some tests come up with 🤷🏼 it’s pain.

She asks Neil if she should tell coach or if she should, and he says he’ll take care of it.

He doesn’t.

He doesn't tell anyone and starts practicing hard again.

Except that now that he knows about it, it's harder to ignore.

The constant ache in his left hip and ankle that are just barely there, the way his fingers hurt after it gets cold, when he feels it down to his bones.

It's all harder to push to the back of his brain now.

Kevin notices first. (Andrew knows something is up, he just figures Neil will now tell him about it....) He notices Neil rubbing his left knee in the hall once, when he thinks he's alone in between classes.

He corners Neil before night practice, Andrew already in the goal, and them putting on their gear.

'you pushed yourself too hard, your injured, you don't play while injured' lecture.

'it's not an injury.' 'I saw you rubbing your knee, and limping. Stop Lying to Me'.

He ends up shouting it, 'Im always in pain'. He's so loud even Andrew stops what he's doing (swinging his racket around, practicing sick af spins).

They all stand there. not saying anything, Neil's panting even though he doesn't even feel out of breath.

'what.' Kevin says it in an icy voice.

'im always in pain, I have chronic pain, I don't know why, but I hurt all the time.'

Kevin is quiet. and then he says, Neil's worst nightmare, 'we're not practicing tonight.'

Neil hasn't shed tears since he was a kid, since before his mom knocked it out of him (literally), but he's close in that moment, taking off his gloves and throwing them on the ground/at Kevin, and stomping back into the lockers.

Kevin doesn't even say anything, just picks them up and Andrew walks out after them, having come close enough to the door to hear the conversation.

When they get back to the room, Neil just wants to be alone. But instead Kevin follows after him, and pushes him down on one of the bean bags.

'stay'

Neil's leg hurts too much to really argue, but he sits there stewing.

Andrew is staring at him fron across the room, he's sitting on his desk, and Neil looks at him, but he can sort of read Andrew's expression, and he doesn't like it, so he looks at the black tv screen.

the microwave goes off, and Neil almost jumps. he almost does again when the door to it is slammed shut.

Kevin comes back in the room, holding a heat pack.

He walks over to Neil, and drops down to his knees in front of him, 'which knee?'

Neil shakes his head, and presses his hand to his hip, and Kevin lays the heat pack over Neil's side, and Neil makes a quizical sort of noise, but then he sighs as it starts to ease the pain a little.

Kevin hesitates for a moment, his eyes flickers toward Andrew's direction for a second, before he sighs, and reaches up to ruffle Neil's hair.

'I'll teach you how to take care of it better, ok?'

Neil sighs, but nods, his hands curling in the front of his hoodie.

'We'll try ice for your knee, hows that sound?'

Neil just nods again.

he dozes to the sound of Kevin and Andrew discussing compression leggings.

they get them overnight shipped.

Kevin places both hands on Neil shoulders and stands him in front of Coach until Neil finally tells him.

'Yeah, so. Me and Abby figured out I have chronic pain.'

Coach nods, 'ok. That why you where late this morning?'

Neil cringes, 'no, Kevin got me weird leggings that seem to help.'

Coach pauses his watching of the rest of the team, and turns too look at Neil, 'when did you and Abby figure this out again?'

Neil, finally getting fidgety, 'uhh, last month.'

Coach pinches the bridge of his nose, 'ok, dipshit, I'll work on changing your routine now.'

the tension melts out of Neil's shoulders. Kevin sighs. David looks frustrated, 'did you think I was gonna bench you?'

Neil doesn't do anything, but Kevin nods his head.

David sighs, 'get back to practice idiots.'

#aftg #neil josten #kevin day #uhhhh this is technically #kevneil #kevineil #no one worry though cause its still #andreil #its just that I don't ship andrew and kevin so its not the three sorry sorry #but Andrew and Neil are very soft for each other. and Neil is gonna be getting a lot of attention from Andrew. hence this being part one. #come back in a few weeks or so for part two! #considering I started this in like. June. #but kevineil is like. this ship I have a soft place for in my heart and I want to make more content for them. i should finish #that smut i started where Andrew is platonic with Kev but he watches Kevin and Neil fuck lol. #which is their ship name btw I do not know. oof

[ash5monster01]

Goes On Chapter Fifteen

Pairing: Charlie Dalton x OC!FemReader

Warnings: 18+, depression, mentions of suicide, heavy topics, eventual smut, slow burn romance, fluff, gender themes/stereotypes.

Summary: Against his best efforts Charlie has to start at a new preparatory school after the tragic events that took place at Welton. The very events that led to the loss of his best friend and getting expelled in the first place. He has no plans to make friends let alone get close to anyone ever again. That is until he meets Evelyn and her interesting group of friends. No matter how hard he tries to push them away he finds it to be impossible. So he caves and in the end learns that life can still be enjoyable even if it feels like everyone is against you.

word count: 2.6k

Fourteen ←→ Epilogue

Masterlist

Welton Academy, VT

4/16/60

It had been four months to the day since Charlie found out about Neil. Not so long ago he had experienced the best four months of his life. To think he had just gone through four months of his worst was mind numbing in a way he couldn’t comprehend. So he let this thought consume him as he took a bus to the ferry and then the ferry to another bus just to be met with the large metal gate he thought he would never have to see again.

He didn’t have to call and ask if they’d be here. He knew they would. Easter wasn’t a big enough Holiday for the parents to pull them out of school. The most they’d have to attend was Easter service tomorrow and classes would be back on schedule on Tuesday. That meant Charlie had all of this weekend to come to terms with what his life was becoming. Come to terms to who he was without Welton or Neil.

Considering he was expelled he didn’t know the proper etiquette for visiting the school. He didn’t care to know anyway so he snuck in, something he had done hundreds of times before and made his way through the empty halls and passing all the familiar rooms. It was weird being back here when he thought it wouldn’t be. That he would always be a part of this school somehow or another. It was still weird to think he wasn’t. This thought scared him as he knocked softly on the safest door.

“Charlie!” Meeks surprised voice squeaked as his eyes widened at the sight of him. Charlie quickly lifted his finger to shush him, pushing him inside as he stepped into the room and out of sight of any teachers eyes. It’s possible he was allowed to visit but based on the terms he left, he didn’t want to bother to find out he wasn’t.

“Hey Meeks” he grinned softly, the happiness of seeing his friend outweighing the sadness burrowed deep inside. When Meeks finally realized this isn’t a hallucination he hugs him quickly.

“Pittsie” Charlie nods at the boy who gapes at him from his desk, standing to hug him as well. Charlie already feels the heavy tears burning against the back of his eyes as he holds his two friends.

“What’re you doing here?” Pitts asks once they pull away and Charlie offers his familiar smirk, one that had become so foreign over the last few months, as he sets his suitcase down.

“Ridge gives their students the entire week off and since my parents figure I’m staying on campus to keep up with my studies, I figured I’d come here. See my best pals” Charlie explains, leaving out the very grave detail he did intend on staying at Ridge, all up until the girl he loved looked at him with eyes as cold as the dead of winter.

“We gotta get Todd and Knox” Meeks starts for the door and Charlie doesn’t stop him, laughing lightly as his red-headed friend takes off on his mission. Charlie hates how familiar and foreign everything around him feels when not so long ago his presence here wouldn’t have been such a big deal. It doesn’t take long for Meeks to return, the two boys barreling behind him just to see if Meeks speaks the truth.

“Holy shit” is all Knox can say when he finally spots him, wrapping his arms around him in a large hug. Charlie laughs at the excitement, hugging him back just as enthusiastically.

“Knoxie, how’s Chris?” Charlie smirks and Knox just smiles, softly shaking his head. He snuck out any chance he could to meet the beautiful blonde girl and risked being killed by Chet Danbury everyday, but man was it worth it.

“Still a dream” he grins, cheeks flushed because somehow he was able to keep his dream girl through all of this. Charlie just smiles back, nodding his head because he knows a thing or two about falling head over heels for a girl now. He’s brought back to reality when he spots Todd who stays standing in the doorway, eyeing him as if he looked away Charlie would somehow disappear.

“Todd, heard you started a revolution” Charlie grins that familiar smile at him and all the times Todd imagined seeing his face again it was nothing like this. Yet to see it in person again felt like being wrapped in a warm hug.

“Ah I learned from the best” Todd says after a beat, waving a hand as if to brush off the sentiment but it doesn’t make Charlie any less proud as he pulls the boy into a tight hug and ruffles the blonde hair on his head.

“Who would’ve thought quiet old Todd would grown a pair” Charlie says when he lets him go, the teasing tone not matching the adoration in his eyes. Not so long ago he thought of Todd as Neil’s quiet roommate and now he was considerably his best friend.

“It was a one time thing, one more stunt and I’m out like you Nuwanda” Todd teases back and Charlie just laughs, moving and flopping onto Meeks bed.

“That’s not a bad thing” Charlie jokes, hands motioning upward as he relaxed against the cushions. It was still a dorm bed but it was better than two buses and a ferry.

“How’s Ridge? How’s the girls?” Knox asks, eyebrows wiggling with suggestion as the boys all begin to settle around the room and catch up.

“Ridge sucks. I’m on track because I didn’t sign up for any sports in time and they made me take it anyway. As for the curriculum it’s the same old boring shit and Dr. J Evans Pritchard” Charlie sneers, thinking of that God forsaken school they stuck him in. Before Keating he might’ve actually liked to go there and experience co-ed but now it was cruel punishment made to diminish his spirit even more.

“And the girls?” Pitts inquires, not missing how Charlie skipped over the little fact in his spiel.

“Fine I guess, my girlfriend is pretty pissed at me right now though” and gasps quickly come from each of the guys around the room as Charlie drops this bomb.

“It’s Evelyn, isn’t it?” Meeks asks, knowing she was the female lead in every story Charlie told when he called. It would be the only thing to make any sense.

“Yes it’s Evelyn” Charlie confirms, rolling his eyes even though just mentioning her name makes his heart soar. Leaving on the bad terms that they did hurt him, but she was still who he wanted to comfort him.

“Got a picture hot shot?” Todd asks and Charlie chuckles, leaning to his side in order to reach the wallet in his back pocket. When he finally frees it, he flips it open to pull out the photos they just recently got back from the Valentine’s dance. How he convinced her to take it he wasn’t sure but he was sure glad they did.

“Wow” Pitts breathes as the picture slips between his fingers and for the first time since Neil’s death a real smirk graces Charlie’s lips. Not a fake one or a forced one, a real one. Pride swells in his chest and it’s the first time he’s had this feeling in a very long time. As the boys pass around the picture of his girl Charlie can’t help but smile at each one.

“Only Charles could bag a chick like that” Meeks says while shaking his head and passing back the picture of the gorgeous girl in Charlie’s arms.

“She’s not a chick” Charlie corrects, slipping the picture safely back into his wallet. “She’s amazing though. Not shy at all and always calls me on my shit. I tried to stay away, I really did. I just couldn’t help myself”

“That doesn’t surprise me” Knox jokes and Charlie glares half heartedly as he looks back at each of the boys.

“How’d you get her to date you?” Meeks asks, curious as to how Charlie actually found a decent girl and not a ditz like the ones he brought to the cave that one time.

“Not sure to be honest, one night I knew she was alone and snuck into her room. Just couldn’t stop myself, she’s the best” Charlie says, mind still stuck on how sweet her kisses are and the taste of her lips.

“Well when do we get to meet her?” Knox eagerly asks, having been the only one of the group to ever actually share words with the girl even if they were brief.

“I don’t know, she’s pretty upset with me right now” Charlie sighs, mind still reeling and trying to wrap around what happened not so long ago. The catalyst to even bring him here.

“What’d you do?” Pitts asks with a snort, picturing the old Charlie doing some idiotic stunt to get him in trouble. If only that was the case.

“You didn’t tell her” Todd suddenly mutters and Charlie’s eyes lock onto his own, sharing a look foreign to the others around him.

“Yeah and she found out. I don’t blame her honestly. She probably thinks I was using her and she knows nothing about me which in a way she doesn’t. Neil was apart of every aspect of my life and if it included him, I didn’t bring it up” the boys realize what they mean in an instant, realization flooding across each of their faces.

“But why, Neil was your best friend?” Meeks says, head shaking and trying to understand the boy in front of them. To be honest none of them have gone as long as they have without seeing the boy before. Maybe things weren’t entirely as they seemed.

“He is my best friend. That’s why I can’t. How do I not only admit to myself but everyone around me that he’s actually gone. I’m all alone now. I’m stuck in that school with no one who understands me and I hate everything about it. I’m no longer Nuwanda, I’m barely even Charlie” Charlie gasps, eyebrows furrowed and heart straining in his chest. The boys watch him, words getting desperate at they come out and Charlie begins to feel that familiar tightening in his chest, the panic rising up his spine.

“You’re not alone Charlie” Todd says with the shake of his head and all the boys eye the two, waiting to see what either one of them would say.

“I am Todd, you guys got to stay here with each other but I was left to grieve on my own” Charlie says but Todd stays firm on his sentence, staring Charlie down with a confidence he never expected to posses.

“No you’re not. You have Evelyn and if I’m not mistaken a few other people at that school. You may not have know them long but four months is enough time to care for a person. I should know” Todd says, words sharp and strong and Charlie freezes as these words sink in. Up until Neil died they had only known Todd four months and he was just as important. So why couldn’t the kids at Ridge be the same.

“Shit Todd, I didn’t mean it like that” Charlie starts but Todd is shaking his head, stopping him short and Charlie waits for him to speak again.

“Just don’t count them out. If you push away every person in your life only because they didn’t know you before Neil then you’re bound to be lonely forever” Todd says and Charlie nods, wrapping his head around the fact that the very people at Ridge he had come to love were more important than he thought.

Not only was Evelyn important to him but the rest were too. Nate was his roommate and the only person he had let close since Neil. Marty was kind, looking out for him any chance he got. Laurie was funny and defended him when necessary. Violet was honest and would tell him the truth when he needed it most. Evelyn was understanding, and passionate about everything around her. They were beautiful people and he had spent so long pitying himself he never got a chance to fully enjoy it. He could see Neil now, almost cursing him for not allowing people close. He was Charlie Dalton for God sakes, a legend who had spent so long pretending he wasn’t.

“Neil didn’t die to kill your spirit, he died because he lost his own. So we should spend everyday making sure we enjoy it. Not only enough for ourselves but him too” Knox says and Charlie tries his best not to cry all over again. He had never looked at it like this, never allowed himself to think about the fact he was wasting so much time waiting for something that would never happen. Neil to come back.

“God I did fuck up” Charlie groans, hands reaching up to tug at his hair and the other boys laugh even though there is a layer of sadness now filling the room that they all figured would never leave.

“No you didn’t, you’re Charlie Dalton after all. You’ll find a way to make it up to her” Knox encourages, hand reaching to pat the boys back and Charlie chuckles, mind already trying to come up with ideas on how to make it up to all of them.

“Maybe but until then I think I just need to spend some time here. Finally let myself heal” he says and the boys nod, understanding exactly what he means. At first it was hard being at Welton without either of the boys, rules becoming more strict and classes becoming harder. Yet after a while it became healing. Classrooms holding memories like a time capsule that comforted them in a way nothing else could.

It was little things. Like learning Shakespeare in class which would remind them of how amazing Neil was in the play. When it was meatloaf for dinner they could eat it remembering it was his favorite. When they scored goals in soccer they could still hear Neil cheering. He was everywhere within the school, a permanent reminder in its walls and even if the memories sometimes hurt, at least somewhere on this earth still held the spirit of him. Welton and this town would forever hold the spirit of him and that was better than any comfort any of the boys had known.

“That’s a good idea, we can hide you in our rooms and go and visit Neil” Pitts voices his excitement and the boy freeze, waiting to see Charlie’s reaction. It had become common for them to visit Neil’s grave but Charlie hadn’t since the funeral. Charlie didn’t even know it was something they did.

“I would love that, even more if no one mentions my presence to Cameron” Charlie responds with his cool and confident tone that for the first time felt right to still have. The boys just laugh, nodding their heads in agreement.

“We can manage that” Meeks says and Charlie grins, sitting up and finally feeling more of him falling back into place. Maybe Nate was right after all, just being here was already healing him. He wished he could stay forever. Thing was, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, life goes on. So he needed to spend as much time as he could, remembering not to forget that.

“Good now one of you needs to sneak into the finks room and recover my stash”

Taglist: @octaviasdread @eden-punk @linmichea1 @pursuedbyamemoryy @mynameisjxlia

Comment if you want to be added to the taglist :))

#dead poets society #charlie dalton series #charlie dalton x reader #charlie dalton fanfic #charlie dalton dps #charlie dalton imagine #charlie dalton smut #charlie dalton fic #charlie dalton x oc #charlie dalton dead poets society #charlie dalton #charlie dalton x original character #charlie dalton x femreader #dead poets society imagines #dead poets society fandom #dead poets society fanfiction #dead poets society series #dps imagine #charlie dps #dps series #dps fanfiction #dps fic #dps fandom #dps boys #dps #dead poets #dead poets fandom #dead poets fanfic #gale hansen series #gale hansen

[biillyhargroves]

but what about Billy noticing signs of abuse in Steve the closer they get to one another and the more Billy learns about Steve’s home life?

because we know that at the very least, Steve’s parents are absent. he’s one of the few core characters whose parents we never actually meet, but we hear a lot about them. we know that Steve was terrified of his father finding out he’d had a party when left home alone, so much so that he begged Nancy to lie to the police because he didn’t think that his father would care that a classmate went missing from his own backyard. he was scared of what kind punishment he might receive. we also know that his father, who Steve expected to work for after senior year, was at best disappointed and at worst angry that Steve, who had few academic supports outside of his bookish girlfriend coaching him on occasion, didn’t get into college and refused to help him even though he clearly had the means to. (granted: Steve was not owed a job just because daddy held the purse strings, but the Harringtons clearly had enough money to get Steve a tutor to help him improve his test scores/applications.) his father could have recognized that Steve needed help, but instead wrote his son off as lazy and sent him off to find his own way and “learn the value of a dollar”. we also know that his father was unfaithful to his mother on enough occasions that 1) Tommy H, one of Steve’s closest friends, knew enough about the situation to comment on it and 2) she willingly left her son alone in an empty house to trail after and keep an eye on her husband, showing that Steve was not a priority to either of his parents and that he was raised in an untrusting, tense household.

and to Steve, none of these things qualify as abuse. he doesn’t see himself as abused or neglected. he’s convinced himself that this is normal, that this is just what his family looks like. all kids are scared of their dads, right? all kids cross their fingers for their parents to leave town, right?

but Billy, who has a little more life experience, who has been able to compare his own early upbringing with someone like Max, who never had a bad word to say about Susan or her bio dad, would clock it. because he’s been there. because sometimes, when Steve talks about his dad’s raised voice, all Billy can hear is Neil.

“you know that’s not okay, right?” he tells Steve one day, and Steve scoffs, waves him off, tells Billy that he’s overreacting, thinks that Billy is projecting, because the things his own father does feel leaps and bounds away from the awful things that he knows Neil has done to Billy. how can he call himself abused when Billy is the one sporting bruises every other week? it doesn’t compare, he tells Billy that, and Billy gets so, so serious. “they don’t always have to hit you to hurt you,” he says, and Steve wonders just when Billy got so damn wise.

#here i am. in my feelings again. #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington

[otdiaftg]

The Raven King - Chapter Two

Day: Wednesday, August 30th Time: 8:30 PM EST *Art used with permission by @ouijacine

"Why didn't Aaron know he had a brother?" Nicky winced, but Neil didn't know what bothered him more: the question or the rough edge in Matt's voice. "They're twins," Nicky said. He waited for them to catch on, looked from one blank face to another, and frowned disbelief. "Think about it for a sec, would you? Imagine you're my Aunt Tilda. How eager would you be to tell Aaron you gave up his brother at birth? She hoped that secret would stay buried forever." "But Aaron found out," Neil said. Nicky flashed Neil a tight-lipped smile. "Yeah, and that's why I believe in fate. See, Aaron was born and raised in San Jose. Apparently Aunt Tilda got bored of dating locally and started going to online matching sites. Right after Aaron turned thirteen Aunt Tilda hooked up with this new guy up in Oakland. Her boyfriend thought they should meet at a Raiders game, something nice and public and fun, so she stuffed Aaron in the car and off they went. Aaron said he was at the concession stand when this cop walked up, calling him Andrew and talking like they knew each other. Aaron thought he was either crazy or confused, but it didn't take the cop long to figure out something was wrong." "Higgins," Matt guessed. "Yeah. Soon as Higgins figured out he had the wrong brother he made Aaron take him back to where Aunt Tilda was. See, Higgins thought Aunt Tilda was another foster mother and that Aaron and Andrew had somehow gotten split up in the system. Higgins wanted to reunite them, so Aunt Tilda gave him her phone number to pass along and took Aaron home again. I don't know why she bothered. Maybe she was too embarrassed to say no or didn't want to explain to a cop what was going on. Either way, Andrew's foster mother called the next day to set up a meet-and-greet, and Aunt Tilda refused. She told the fosters she didn't want anything to do with Andrew, didn't want to know what he was like or how he was doing, nothing. She even made them promise to not contact her ever again." Nicky finished his second drink and mixed a third. "But Aaron knew who was calling, and he was too excited to wait on his mom to hang up to find out the details. As soon as she picked up in the kitchen, he ran to her bedroom and listened in on the upstairs phone. That's how he found out the truth." Nicky looked down at his drink. "Aaron said it was the worst day of his life."

"Jesus," Matt said. "I don't blame him. Did he tell her he'd heard her?" "Oh, yeah. Aaron said they had it out. But Aunt Tilda wouldn't budge, so Aaron went behind her back and called the Oakland PD. He found the PAL coordinators and gave them his information to give to Andrew. Two weeks later he got a letter in the mail that basically said 'Fuck you, go away'." Matt rubbed at his temples. "Yeah, that sounds like Andrew." "Some things never change," Nicky said. "So how'd Aaron change Andrew's mind?" Dan asked. Nicky gave her an odd look. "He didn't." "Wait," Dan said. "What do you mean, he didn't?" "I mean he didn't try again. I don't know who told Andrew's foster parents about Aaron, if it was Andrew or this Phil guy, but Andrew's foster mom wrote Aaron a letter. She wanted Aaron to try again in spring and said something about holidays being rough and there being a lot of changes at the house. So Aaron waited, but he waited too long. In March Andrew went off to juvie, and Aaron started rethinking this brother thing. Two months later Aunt Tilda sold the house in San Jose and moved Aaron to Columbia." Dan looked bewildered. "Then when did they meet?" "Dad found out about Andrew five years ago, so..." Nicky counted time on his fingers. "Four and a half years ago, give or take a bit. Dad went to California to interview Andrew's foster family and stop by juvie. A month later he flew Aaron out so Aaron and Andrew could talk, but I don't count that half-hour supervised session as a first meeting. They met for real when Andrew made early parole a year later and Dad bullied Aunt Tilda into bringing Andrew home." Nicky nursed his drink for a bit. "Weird when you think about it, right? They've only really known each other for three years." "That's messed up," Matt said. "Yeah, and that's the nice version of the story," Nicky said. "Anyway, that's how Aaron and Andrew know Higgins. I don't know why he's calling Andrew now, but I'm not going to ask. I kind of view Andrew's foster life as an off-limits topic. I don't bring it up until he does." "Is that really okay?" Dan asked. "It didn't sound like a 'Long time no see' kind of phone call. What if someone's dug up some past crime of his that could get him taken off our court? Maybe Phil was calling to warn him about an investigation." "Andrew will take care of it," Nicky said. "That's not comforting," Dan said, but she let it drop.

Art used with permission by Ouijacine.

#aftg #all for the game #neil josten #trk #the raven king #the foxhole court #andrew minyard #palmetto state university #psu foxes #andreil #on this day in aftg #otdiaftg #palmetto state foxes #otdi all for the game #nora sakavic #the foxes #on this day in all for the game #kevin day #nicky hemmick #aaron minyard #coach wymack #betsy dobson #abby winfield #matt boyd #dan wilds #renee walker #allison reynolds #artist #ouijacine