#Billy realizing that he's going through some fucked up things at home cause he's got a FRIEND and can make comparisons is my jam

[giurochedadomani]

My random prompt: halloween

write the boys doing something for halloween, I wish to see it

I think you may have been aiming for a way fluffier thing, but I was thinking about how the other day I wrote some nonsense about Eddie putting Billy in make up for Halloween. Cause Billy's forced to babysit Max and El, and Eddie's lame ass hasn't gotten any party invitation (and one of the Corroded Coffin members is with his girlfriend, the other has a trip with his parents, the other doesn't have anything to do on the 31, but has a party on the 30, so he's going to be so tired, and perhaps another year, you know? And so on and so on) so Billy and Eddie have a bit of a back and forth: perhaps they agree to meet after Neil and Susan come back, perhaps Billy mentions how much it sucks to have a parent-less house and dedicating it to a middle schooler sleepover, perhaps Eddie mentions that 'whatever, man, show up whenever you like, it's not as if I plan to leave the trailer this afternoon', until they finally connect the dots, and Billy blurts: how about you come over? Thinking that it's the lamest plan anyone has offered Eddie ever just for Eddie to go :DDDD yes!!!! Halloween!!!!! Of course!!!!!

And he brings a bit of decoration, a some candies, and chocolates, and his face paints!!! And El adores him, and Max is slowly becoming less wary of him (because he's Billy's friend) and more fond (in a way that is hauntingly similar to how Billy's quicky warming up to this weirdo). Although Billy has been insisting in how he won't be caught dead in a costume cause that's for middle schoolers (said to Eddie's face as Eddie puts on a very good improvised vampire costume cause Billy loves to mess with him), Billy ends up giving in to Eddie's puppy eyes and general joyful hyperness and let's him put on him some make up.

And he's in a very good mood!! He was so sure that it was going to be the worst afternoon ever and look at him, half under Eddie as he carefully puts him in position and keeps him where he wants him. And it's so nice, Eddie's so gentle as he carefully draws the skull on Billy's features. It's so nice to have him this close. And this is all so very gay.

And then a cursed thought passed through my mind: what if Neil arrived earlier.

Cause we know what he thinks about Billy, and Billy's someone who tries really fucking hard to pull off a strong, masculine appearance. Eddie, on the other hand... Well, Neil is going to think about Eddie what your average conservative douchebag thought in the 80s about metalheads.

"He's--", a friend doesn't seem the wisest course of action. "He goes to class with me". He thinks about Hellfire, and then about Max' lame group of friends, and he finally settles for a very vague, not hundred percent false: "He knows the Chief".

--And tries to ignore the vicious grip around his chest when Neil snorts and sneers: "I bet he does".

"--That way I didn't have to worry about Jane's curfew". He forces himself to take a breath. He pushes his hair out of his face and only remembers about the facepaint when his hand comes off in a darkish white. He continues cleaning, methodically, and tries not to think about grabbing the little, spilled pumpkin basket and smashing it against the floor.

"So not only weren't you capable of taking care of your sister and her friend on your own". Not smashing the pumpkin basket is harder by the moment. "You had to invite that weirdo over to prance around half naked--".

"--It was a costume--".

"--And put some make-up on you all. What are you, some kind of clown now?".

Billy wants to scream.

"--It was face painting!"

"Don't use that tone with me, boy".

Billy forces himself to take a breathe, and then another, although it doesn't seem to get past his throat. He throws the last of the candy in the basket, and the basket in a bag, in which it automatically spills again, except this time is definitely not Billy's fucking problem. "You didn't want them to go to the movies. You didn't want them to go trick or treating. I wanted to keep them entertained. So face painting it was".

The thing is.

The thing is, Hopper's a bit paranoid, but he's cool with Jane being a bit late if she calls, and has put enough of effort in getting to know Max that Jane showed up earlier with a bunch of Max' favourite chocolates. The thing is, Wayne tells Eddie to behave, but he's cool with Eddie messing up the living room for any short creative endeavor, and always makes sure to leave them some change for a pizza. And those are things that happen, but for some strange reason not to Billy.

He tears down the garlands and is not in the slightest bit surprised when Neil says: "I don't want to see you with him ever again, understood?"

[phefics]

An idea: poly!ghostface- the boys are out about to go after a victim when they find they’re missing something/something broken (the phone isn’t working or their voice changer doesn’t have batteries whatever you want is totally cool!)

They realize- afab!reader the needy little whore did it on purpose so they’d have to come home to her and give her attention like they don’t give her attention 99% of the time.

Which of course they do and they are very very grumpy angy bois. All like “oh you missed us you wanted our attention you know you’d get it when we came home but you had to ruin our game and now we gotta take our energy and anger out somehow”

Followed by some smutty degradation, spanking/punishment, good ole fashion filth lol

Side note i think you have one of the easiest to understand request rules idk some people just make them complicated but yours is great!

needy little whore

ship: billy loomis x fem!reader x stu macher summary: exactly what the ask above says!! :) warnings: degradtion, spanking, a bit of knifeplay, rough/unprotected sex, face-fucking word count: 1.3k

You knew that you were asking for trouble, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

It wasn’t that Billy and Stu weren’t giving you enough attention. In fact, to the average person, they would be considered abnormally clingy. It didn’t bother you, though, because you were the same way.

You would have survived one night without them, but you were feeling mischievous that night. You wanted to piss them off so that they’d take it out on you, because angry sex with Billy and Stu was a whole new level of adrenaline.

So, you stole the batteries out of their voice changer, and then hid all the other batteries in the house. You weren’t stupid: You knew the reason they wouldn’t be hanging at Stu’s tonight, and you didn’t mind that as much as you minded their attention being elsewhere.

Since Stu’s family was rarely home, you would often hang out there even when Stu wasn’t around. He didn’t care, and had even given you a spare key.

You watched the two boys head out the door, black backpacks surely stuffed with everything they’d need to carry out a brutal crime.

You popped in a VHS of Nightmare on Elm Street, then made yourself comfortable on the couch, wearing the most revealing pajamas you had. You had seen the way the boys looked at you before they left, and smirked to yourself.

You only made it about twenty minutes into the movie before you heard a car pull into the driveway outside. Anticipation built inside you, but you stayed put, looking innocent as ever as Billy and Stu burst through the front door, both looking absolutely pissed.

“What did you do?” Billy demanded.

You looked up at him with your sweetest expression. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t play stupid, Y/N,” Stu said. “You’re fuckin’ lucky we tested the thing first.”

“You trying to get us caught?” Billy asked, grabbing your wrist and pulling you up from the couch. “You know we can’t fuck you if we’re in jail, right? Is that what you want?”

You shook your head. “No, of course not—”

“Ruining our game just cause you wanna get fucked, huh?” Stu said, closing in behind you. You were trapped between them now, Billy still holding your wrist as Stu pressed himself against your ass; he was already hard, and you bit back a moan at the realization.

“I just—”

“Couldn’t wait til we got home?” Billy smirked, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. “You would have gotten what you wanted later, but the needy whole just couldn’t wait.”

Stu gripped your hips from behind, breathing against your ear. “Well, we gotta get our energy out somehow. But now it’s all gonna be focused on you, baby. We’re gonna fuckin’ destroy you.”

You whimpered as they manhandled you back onto the couch, the film still playing in the background.

“Look at these slutty clothes,” Billy practically purred. “Barely covering anything…”

Stu pulled a knife from the bag he’d been carrying, the blade glinting in the light. “Bet you won’t mind if we take ‘em off,” he said, using the sharp blade to cut the strap of your top, then doing the same to the other side.

You opened your mouth to protest, but Billy stroked your hair and whispered, “We’ll buy you somethin’ even prettier, m’kay?”

Before you could offer a response, he shoved his fingers into your mouth, and you sucked on them reflexively, making him chuckle.

“Such a fucking slut,” he said.

Stu pulled the remnants of your tattered clothes off, leaving you naked as Billy pulled his hand back, admiring the strings of spit on his fingers before licking it off. He and Stu were completely fucking depraved, and it turned you on more than you could handle.

You were quickly pushed onto all fours on the couch, and you could barely contain your excitement at the idea of them fucking you. But that was wishful thinking. Instead, a hand came down on your ass with a hard slap! making you yelp.

You turned your head to see that it was Stu who had hit you, and you pouted at him.

“Oh, don’t give me that pathetic face,” he said. “You thought we were just gonna give you what you wanted after that? Not a chance, baby. We gotta punish you first.”

He laughed as you whined in response, clearly enjoying your frustration.

They took turns spanking you, slapping your ass without mercy.

“Count them,” Billy had ordered.

Each number left your mouth between pained groans and squeaks, stuttering over nine and eleven and thirteen, but when they hit twenty, they stopped, apparently satisfied with your teary face and marked-up ass.

“Think we should give the whore what she wants?” Stu asked.

Billy hummed, considering it. “I doubt she learned her lesson, but I wanna fuck her too bad to care right now.”

“Agreed,” Stu said, and you stayed on your knees as the two of them stripped out of their clothes hurriedly, bickering about who was going to take what place.

“You always get to fuck her, let me—”

“Her mouth is just as good—”

“Do I get a say in this?” you asked.

“No,” the boys replied, grinning at their synchronized speech.

You couldn’t help but giggle as you watched them play a rigorous game of rock-paper-scissors for who got to fuck you, and your laugh only grew when Stu won, and Billy flipped him off.

Some nights they would take turns, but after the spanking that they’d given you, they were gracious enough to not push your limits too far.

You were already wet, but Stu took some time playing with your pussy, fingers fumbling through your folds to rub at your clit, and you bucked your hips uselessly, moaning at his touch.

Billy walked to the other end of the couch, grabbing you by your hair and smirking down at you. “You gonna let me fuck your throat, slut?” he asked.

You nodded, opening your mouth for him without needing to be asked. He chuckled at your obedience, and wasted no time in pushing his cock between your lips.

As he did so, Stu was lining himself up with your entrance, his grip impossibly tight on your hips and he entered you, slow at first, before immediately picking up the pace, snapping his hips rhythmically. Every time he thrust forward, it made Billy’s dick go further into your mouth, and the sounds of their moaning filled your ears as they used you like the needy whore you were.

Your eyes teared as you focused on breathing through your nose amidst the pleasure of Stu’s cock inside you. Before you met them, you could never cum from penetration, but both Billy and Stu had a way of fucking you so good, rough just like you wanted, that it had become more common for you to orgasm from it.

“So fuckin’ hot,” Billy murmured, almost to himself. “Perfect fuckin’ mouth.”

“Such a slut,” Stu added. “Taking us both at once. Gettin’ off on it, too.”

You whined at their words, floating from the mixture of praise and degradation.

Stu came first, and Billy followed shortly after, and the three of you collapsed onto the couch together, sweaty and tired.

Stu leaned over to you and kissed you, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You had a suspicion it was partly so that he could taste Billy’s cum, but you kissed him back anyway.

“Get a room,” Billy joked, making Stu giggle.

Nightmare on Elm Street was almost over, and you were sticky and exhausted.

“You wanna get cleaned up, baby?” Stu asked.

You nodded, and before you could say anything, he was carefully leading you to the bathroom, his arms supporting the majority of your weight.

Billy went upstairs to grab you some clothes to borrow—a pair of his pajama pants, and one of Stu’s t-shirts. It was all too big on you, but it was comfortable and smelt like them.

You fell asleep to the sound of Billy and Stu planning another night to carry out the plan that you’d ruined. Maybe next time you’d take the burner phones off their chargers.

[billlydear]

Hi ;) It's me again 😅 What about a fic where Reader has her periods and, you know, it's just Billy being there for her to help her get comfortable and taking care of her. 🥺 Maybe she is too embarassed to tell him at first but he notices she isn't feeling well so eventually reader tells him the truth to ease his worries. Like he doesn't get a damn thing about how periods work so maybe he goes to Max and asks her to give him some tips ? I know it's very scattered and a bit over the place, but I figured it would be very fluffy and sweet you know. 🤍 But of course you know best, so really if none of this inspires you be free to just ignore this 😅😂 Thank you so much ! Your fics make my shitty days better. 💕

MOODY - BILLY HARGROVE X READER

W.C 1165 - INBOX (please request !) - GIF CREDIT TO OWNER

A/N: I'm so happy that you like my writing! I hope you enjoy this, too, I'm sorry it's a bit late 😅

Max dreads the sound of Billy's heavy footfalls outside her door. They're light and stealthy when they need to be, but when no one else is home, Billy stomps around like a soldier.

She preps herself for an infuriating conversation before the door even opens, and when it does, it slams against the wall. It tries bouncing back, but Billy's arm stops it as he stands tall in her doorway.

"What?" She demands with narrowed eyes.

"You're a girl."

She fakes an incredulous glance down at her chest, "Oh my god. You're right! All this time, and I've never known."

"Cut it out." He snaps, eyes ablaze, "I mean, you're a girl. So you know how girls work."

"We're not all clones, y'know." She scoffs, "What, are you having trouble with Y/N?"

"Yes," Billy huffs, "She's in a mood."

"So? How am I supposed to help?" Max's nose scrunches, "She hasn't told me anything."

"Because you're always in a mood!" Billy finally crosses the threshold of her doorway, sitting on her bed even when she slams her feet against his leg to try and shove him off.

"Listen, I dunno what's wrong with her, she just gets off in her head or something, and she's all weepy and shit, 'real pissy. She refused to eat any of her lunch today just 'cause one of her chocolates melted and got onto her bag of chips. It wasn't even touching them, it was just on the package. And- and fuck, there's, like, no sex.

"Ew!" Max's mouth falls open, brows furrowing, "Gross! I- God, Billy. I mean, have you ever thought about asking her?" Max stares at Billy, unimpressed, "That usually helps."

"No, Maxine, I have not," Billy gripes, "Because it comes and goes. When I finally decide enough is enough, and I go to ask her, it is enough. She just goes back to normal."

"Well... Is it, like, a recurring thing, then? Like, every Friday or something? It could be a weekly quiz in a class she doesn't like, or a family dinner routine she's not thrilled about."

"Not even weekly," Billy muses, "It's, like, every couple of weeks or something. I dunno."

"Wait." Max finally folds the magazine she was reading shut, her fingers trapped inside to hold her place. She squints at Billy, "Your girlfriend has been getting pissy every few weeks, crying often, having intense mood swings for days at a time, and being... conservative with her body, and then like magic it just goes away one day?"

Billy calculates her words in his head, nodding silently.

"You're so stupid," Max guffaws, resuming her casual flip-through of a cosmopolitan she shouldn't have in the first place, "Go talk to your girlfriend, butt-brain. And whatever you do, don't act grossed-out."

--

"Spill." Billy demands, turning his head to stare at you where you sit in the passenger's seat.

"What?" You look over at him warily, "Spill what?"

"Whatever's making you all sad and shit," Billy waves a hand, and it hooks back onto the wheel despite not needing to. He's parked outside the movie theater, waiting for you to confess.

"I'm not- I'm not sad and shit, Billy." You promise, but the way your eyes widen momentarily makes him realize you're covering up, "Don't worry about it, okay? I got, like, no sleep last night. I'm just really tired."

"Yeah, well, I don't doubt that." Billy murmurs, running a thumb under your eyes. It catches the skin there, sensitive and baggy. "But there's something else. I.. I asked Max, and she said I should ask you."

"Oh." You supply lamely, cheeks burning at the thought of your boyfriend's younger sister knowing you're on your period. "Uh, it's really not anything super important, if you just wanna move on it'll be over in a few days."

"No," Billy shakes his head, curls flying, "I wanna know now. I'm trying to be supportive, don't you want to talk about it?"

"I- I appreciate that you're being supportive," You nearly cry, embarrassment flooding your chest that Billy takes as despair, "It's just.. kind of embarrassing? I'm- I'm on my period, okay? That's all. It's just making me a little crazy."

"Oh."

Billy, admittedly, does think it's gross. Not because of the whole misogynistic-natural-body-processes-are-gross type deal, but because he's only ever seen blood as a result of injuries like cuts, so thinking about it coming from your vagina makes his own parts ache, and not in a good way. Even if he knows you're not cut up down there, that it's natural and that the bloodshed itself doesn't hurt, it'll take a while to reprogram his brain's perception of blood. But he'll get over it, after all, you have to.

"O-kay," He drops one hand from the wheel, reaching out for your own that's laying limp in your lap. "So, like, walk me through this. My mom didn't stick around long enough to have any talks with me, and if Susan tried I'd kill myself."

"I just need to be sad sometimes, or- or irrational. Even if it seems silly to you, don't tell me that, it'll just make it worse. I have to get it out."

"Okay," He shrugs, "I already don't tell you when I think you're being silly, y'know. I'm not in the habit of insulting you."

"I know," You can't help the smile that curves soft over your face, "I just mean, like, stuff might seem really dumb sometimes. But just go with it, okay?"

"Okay." He repeats; a promise, "Oh- and, uh, sex is a no?"

"Big mess," You mumble, cheeks blazing, "Not worth it."

"Well- I think I'd like to be the judge of that," Billy stammers, "I don't mind a mess. I encourage it, actually."

"Not like this," You chuckle bashfully, "You do realize it'll get, like, on you, right? I'll just suck you off for the week, or something."

"That's not fair to you," His lips puff into a frown, "I don't care. Let's just do it, I can trash the sheets if it's really that bad."

"At least use a towel!' You groan, burying your burning cheeks in your hands. Billy isn't quite sure why you're so embarrassed by the prospect of bleeding on him. It's bound to happen eventually, he reasons, a leaky pad or a surprise visit, why not enjoy it?

"Towel. Smart." He grins, teeth shining bright under the dim streetlights outside the car, "So that's our plan, then?"

"That's our plan," You try concealing your smile when you lean in to kiss him, but it doesn't work, and instead you bump grins. He presses his lips to yours as best he can despite his smile, and you let your nose linger against his own for a second longer than you need to.

"Let's just make sure Max isn't home," You worry, but Billy's more preoccupied with peeling out of the parking lot and racing for home, "You owe her, big time for this one."

[bowdownperv]

Sweetheart [B.H + E.M]

Warnings: 18+, smut, sexual content, threesome

Pink was the color of love. The color of sugary sweetheart candies. The color of the powdery blush on your cheeks. The color of his tongue as he painted your pussy with his saliva.

Cupid struck you in the ass this Valentines Day.

A fun, post Basketball game celebration turned into nightmare when you accidentally stumbled in on your jackass boyfriend pounding some dumb cheerleader into a mattress while looking for the bathroom. Eyeshadow instantly spilled down your face like watercolors as you slammed the door shut making the whole house shiver. The dramatic thud of your heels stomping down the stairs caused the whole crowd to go silent alongside gasped faces.

Once making it home and allowing yourself some much deserved time to sulk, you quickly realized that your friends were right: you were way out of his league. You would have absolutely no problem finding a better lover, better kisser, and a better fucker. However, once the news of your breakup made its way around, you were essentially up for grabs at school.

Billy Hargrove unexpectedly became an obstacle in your path to class when his broad athletic body spawned out of nowhere in front of you. You crashed into him and sprung back while he stood sturdy as a rock.

“Sup, Y/N.” His voice had a racy husk to it as he licked his lips. You rolled your eyes while secretly checking him out.

“Yes, Billy?” you murmured, bending down to pick up the History textbook he made you drop.

If the school had a mascot for biggest douchebag, it would be Billy. He was always trying, and quite successfully, getting into every girls pants just to gloat about it the next day to his buddies. He always felt something special towards you, but you refused to give in. Making his infatuation with you only grow stronger. You had to admit though, he was really fucking hot.

"I heard about your breakup, maybe I'll come over tonight and make you feel better," he winked cupping his bulging cock through his grey sweatpants. Lazily, swinging his hips into his palm as if he were fucking you from behind. You couldn't help but feel a trickle down your thigh.

"That's okay Billy, I've never really been a big fan of shrimp."

He huffed.

"Mhm, we'll see about that sweetheart."

The stupid nickname somehow made your pussy tingle. You flipped your hair over your shoulder and scurried away as he blew you a cocky kiss. He was such a hotshot but the thought of him fucking you filled your heartbroken mind with lust. You also heard from other girls that he was packing.

For the entire day, boys followed you around like abandoned puppies. Each one so desperately attempting to shoot their shot with you every chance they could get. It was pathetic. Finally, lunchtime came meaning you could hopefully have a break from being chased down. You headed to school dining hall and sat at your usual table, waiting for your girlfriends to arrive. That's when you saw schools enigma, Eddie walk in. He approached you with a devilish grin across his face as he plopped down across from you. The entire crowd in the cafeteria seemed to vanish and it suddenly it felt like it was just the two of you alone.

"Hey, pretty girl," he smirked.

You swallowed and nervously toyed with your hair.

"Hi, Eddie."

"A pretty girl like you shouldn't be all alone. Who knows what kind of bad things could happen to her." He gave you a sinister smirk and reached for your hand. Placing a soft kiss to it like you were royalty. You were completely hypnotized by his mysterious presence.

"Why don't I come over tonight and we can have some fun."

You hesitated.

"I- I have to-"

"Great, I'll be there at ten."

Your cheeks were so red you could see feel heart beating in them. Eddie walked away and you watched as time around you magically resumed.

When you got home from school, you rushed to turn on the shower. You laid out a tank top and your most revealing shorts on your bedsheets and washed up plus shaved until you felt clean and sexy. You blowdryed your soggy hair and perfected your makeup in anticipation for it just to be ruined. There was still a few hours until Eddie would be arriving but you spent them all physically and mentally preparing yourself.

Halfway through brushing your hair, you jumped from the ring of the doorbell. Fuck. Eddie must have came early. You ran your fingers through your locks messily and hurried to the door.

As soon as you opened it, you cursed under your breath. It was Billy. You didn't think he was actually serious about coming over. You panicked. Eddie would be there soon. What would he do if he saw you had Billy over as well?

"Billy, you need to go-"

Without warning, he was leaning forward and kissing you dearly with his strawberry lips. You were instantly intoxicated. Grabbing onto the hair on the back of his head and pulling him closer. His tongue swarming your mouth.

You yanked him by his denim jacket inside and shut the door. Maybe, he could fuck you quickly before Eddie came? At this point you were too worked up to tell Billy to leave. With Billy's mouth still suctioned to yours, a series of loud thumps echoed from the front door. Damnit.

You felt your heart inflate with every knock.

Billy followed you to the door. His larger body hovering behind you like a ghost.

"What the fuck is he doing here?" he growled in his low register, raising his muscular arm.

"Just came to see my girl," Eddie announced, pointing a finger gun at you.

"Well, she's busy," Billy replied, cupping your ass in his large hand making you jolt.

The boys bickered back and fourth and you were so turned on. The two hottest studs at school fighting over who gets to fuck you.

Eventually, Billy whispered something into Eddie's ear causing him to nod. You were so confused when both boys looked back at you with devilish grins.

Billy manhandled you as he grabbed your smaller body to throw you over his shoulder. You let out a small shriek. He carried you over to the kitchen and placed your ass on the counter. His eyes staring directly at your clothed core as if he could see through your shorts.

You put your finger in your mouth. "What are you going to do to me?" you asked shyly.

Eddie turned to Billy and smiled.

"A good old pussy eating contest."

You froze.

"Sound good, sweetheart?"

Your head almost fell off from how fast you were nodding.

"Yes."

Eddie competed first. He tugged your little shorts down your thighs and you watched as they plopped down onto the marble floor. Squatting to be eye-level with your vulnerable cunt.

"Hi, pretty pussy," he said, rubbing it with his long, slender fingers and pressing a kiss to it. You felt your pussy gush as pre-cum dribbled down your thigh.

"Mm, good thing daddy's hungry."

His head nuzzled between your legs. You felt his warm tongue poke inside your pussy.

His hands grabbed your thighs for support as he pushed his head deeper into you. Licking the walls of your pussy. The texture of his taste buds rubbing against your clit. His tongue slurping in and out of you while he looked up at you with starving eyes. Cocking his right eyebrow every time you let out a sweet moan.

"Oh, fuck daddy" you squealed. Clinging your fingers to his hair as you popped your pussy forward into his face. His tongue leaving no inch of your pussy dry. Foamy spit being the only barrier between his mouth and your cunt as he coated you with his thick, warm saliva that dripped onto the floor.

“Such a sweet girl with a sweet pussy," he mumbled into your core. You could feel the vibrato of his voice echo throughout the walls of your cunt.

You closed your eyes and felt a wave of heat rush throughout your body. Your pussy quenched itself as you squirted all over Eddie’s soft face. Covering his skin with little droplets of your cum.

“Oh shit baby, all for me?” he asked excitedly as you groaned, still trying to recover from your high.

Not a drip of cum went to waste as he licked each one that trailed down your thighs.

Eddie pulled away and your cunt felt cold and empty without a warm mouth inside it.

“Alright man, let’s see if you can beat that,” he said, hitting Billy’s shoulder.

Billy walked over to your vulnerable pussy smugly. Smirking as he watched your legs tremble and your still leaking cunt drip more onto the floor. You looked up at him with nervous, doe eyes.

Billy kneeled down and vertically licked across your entire pussy. Paying special attention to your clit as he cloaked it around his long tongue, drowning it in his saliva. Your head flew forward to watch his evil, grinning face devour your pussy.

He ate your pussy from the inside out. His mouth was a vacuum sucking all the juices from your pussy until it was dry, and then filling it back up with his own spit and tongue. He pressed gentle kisses along the sensitive skin and used his fingers to spread your pussy lips open and poke his tongue in even farther. The excitement and lust of having such a hunk fuck you with his tongue so passionately, made you unable to hold back your orgasm as you cummed intensely for the second time. Decorating Billy’s pretty face with your sweet pussy juices.

Billy walked away wiping his grinning mouth. Once again, your pussy felt empty and you rubbed your legs together. Desperate for any friction as you looked innocently to the two boys ahead of you.

“Round two,” Eddie spoke.

“Cock sucking.”

This time your knees were on the floor looking up at Billy. You stared him down as he pulled his jeans and boxers off allowing his mighty cock to stand strong.

You immediately gasped. Billy's cock put your ex boyfriends to shame. It was long, slick, and girth with a blue vein that ran from its base to his big, pink mushroom head. After licking your plump lips in preperation, you wrapped them around his cock. Giving Billy the sweetest blowjob of his life.

"That's it sweetheart," he groaned, huskily. "You like having daddy's big cock in your mouth?"

"You moaned "mhm," while looking up him with your teary, cartoon eyes. His cock tucked deep inside your throat, striking your uvula repeatedly like it was a punching bag.

All the attention you were giving Billy's cock made Eddie severely jealous. He eagerly dragged his pants and boxers in unison down his thighs and tripped as his long cock sprung out. Hard and ready to get sucked.

Eddie pushed Billy aside and slid his cock into your mouth at the same time. Two giant cocks fucking your tiny little mouth.

Both the men swung their hips into your face, forcing your tired mouth to suck their huge cocks. If someone was to stand behind them, all they would see was their ass cheeks clenching and releasing as their big bodies overshadowed you. The only thing coming out of your mouth were whimpers and slobber.

You grabbed their big balls with each of your hands. Your long nails grazing the wrinkles. You squeezed them. Immediately, they both orgasmed. Their cum flooding your throat canal. Making you practically drown in their creamy, white cum. It took a few big gulps and swallows to force it all down.

Billy patted your head before throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you to the coffee table. Laying your tummy on the table. Your tits squashed against the cold glass. Your vulnerable ass and cunt shivering in the air, ready for penetration.

Billy aggressively spit on your cunt like a dirty cowboy and shoved his cock in with a howl. Hands gripping your waist hard as he fucked you mercilessly. Spanking your ass with his big palm like you were misbehaved child.

Eddie went for your gaping mouth. Lifting your head up by the chin and sliding his long cock down your throat. Swinging his hips back and fourth, giving you a great throat-fucking. His heavy balls squashing against your chin allowing you to feel how quickly they refilled. Your jaw throbbing from how wide your mouth had to open to accommodate his size.

Your body was being completely used by these two men. You were just an instrument of pleasure for their sex-driven dicks. Their impressive length penetrating both sides of you so deeply, that you swore you could feel the heads of their cocks kiss inside your stomach.

The sounds they were making were so hot. These two men who had big egos and tough exteriors, now whimpering and falling apart from the way you were taking their raging cocks. They both had fucked so many girls but it wasn’t now, fucking you, that they were finally being satisfied. It was as if all those girls were just practice to prepare for fucking you. Billy and Eddie reached over your body to high-five each other.

Eventually, they switched things up. Eddie sat on the couch, man spreading, as he smacked his thighs signaling you to hop on. His cock stuck up between his legs like a mighty tower. You slowly sat down on him and felt your pussy become stretched as you slid down to rest on his balls. You faced Billy who was now completely naked and holding his cock with his right hand, jacking it off. Your eye grazed his impressive body with lust as you noticed his chiseled abs, his bulging bicep when he pumped his cock, and his thick, muscular legs that were spread as he stood sturdy. Your eyes stayed focused on him as the rest of your body flew up and down as Eddie commanded you to ride his cock. You couldn’t close your mouth no matter how hard you tried.

Billy walked over to you and inserted one of your bouncing tits into his mouth. He sucked on the nipple as your ass hopped up and down Eddies cock. Eddie ran his hands through your hair from behind and thrusted his hips upwards into you. Billy continued worshipping your body like you were a princess. Nuzzling his face between your tits and leaving blue hickeys around your nipples. Billy crouched down and licked the top of your pussy as it got hammered by Eddie’s cock. He coated your pussy and the head of Eddie’s cock with his saliva to better lubricate it. Eddie sped up the rhythm making your pussy louder as it gushed even more.

Just as you felt the pressure of your climax approaching, Billy pulled you off Eddie’s cock and pushed your head into the couch cushion. He lifted your ass up with his hands and fucked you relentlessly into the sofa with all his energy. His thick cock plunging in and out of your pussy rapidly. Your muted moans were still so apparent from the unexpected change and without you even realizing it, you were cumming all over Billy’s swole cock. The feeling of your pussy tightening around Billy’s cock triggered his own orgasm as he shot several rounds of his white, sticky cum deep inside your cunt. Eddie pulled Billy away from you, and the boys eagerly raced to lick the cum out of your pussy. Both men’s tongues fighting to lick up every drop. You looked down at their determined faces with their tongues sticking out. You almost hyperventilated.

To repay Eddie, you got down on all fours and sucked the cum out of his cock. Giving him special attention as he filled your mouth with his semen and you held it between your chubby cheeks. Dribbles of white spilling out as you looked up at him and swallowed. Billy patted Eddie’s shoulder and they shook hands. Unable to pick a winner, you requested a rematch.

[kimpossibly]

Perhaps a ‘Regret Me’ blurb with Graham Dunne + the song Sex or Robbers by The 1975 😭 🙏

If not no worries at all!

Thx!

So I love this with all my heart?? I saw The 1975 in concert in November and cried my little eyes out, so this is just the epitome of some of my favorite things ever. I would do Robbers, but I simply cannot imagine Graham Dunne committing crimes, so Sex it is! (Yes, I'm aware that that last bit out of context sounds extremely odd. I also do not care.)

tw: slightly sexual content, but nothing graphic at all

Neither of you were quite sure how it started.

One moment you two were in the back of the van, waiting for the others to get back from the venue so you could head back home. You were in the process of sliding off your knee-high boots, which you had regretted wearing halfway through the set when you realized you couldn't feel the bottoms of your feet.

Graham sat beside you, twirling one of Warren's drum sticks between his fingers. He glanced over at you as you threw your boots across the back of the van, slumping down.

Only a few hours ago you had been in the small music hall performing a set. Your boyfriend had been in the front row, beaming at you throughout the entire thing. At least until he saw how you acted around Graham.

As the two guitarists (lead & rhythm) you were bound to have some interaction during the show. He just didn't think that meant the whole show. Anytime you and Graham played at the same time you would stand close to each other, sometimes with you laying your head on his shoulder. One time your faces got so close that your boyfriend wasn't entirely sure that you two hadn't kissed.

So when you bounced backstage to meet him, you weren't entirely surprised at the hardened look he had on his face. The two of you had ended up in a screaming match, heard in part by the entire band as they loaded everything up to get on the road.

Eventually you left, slamming the door to the venue behind you as you crawled into the van, where Graham was already helping pull stuff inside. You mumbled angrily under your breath as you unzipped your boots, throwing them.

You felt Graham's eyes on you and you looked back. He immediately looked away, causing you to giggle and roll your eyes. "Graham," you said, voice low and quiet.

He looked back over. "Yeah?"

And then you pulled him to you by the collar and kissed him hard. Graham, entirely caught off guard, found himself staring at your blurry eyebrows for a moment before he really realized what was going on. And when he did, his eyes fluttered shut, kissing you back.

Your fingers crept to his belt, toying with the hem of his jeans. His tongue swiped your bottom lip, and that was when you pulled away, a devilish grin on your face. Now Graham had a very obvious hard-on, which only made you grin a little wider.

"Think you can wait until we get back to the house?" you asked in a low whisper. Graham just nodded, eyes wide and surprised. You pressed a quick kiss to the corner of his lips and sat back, moving to help Billy haul the last of the guitars into the van.

And as Graham sat there, trying to comprehend what the fuck had just happened, all he could think of was one, single, repeating thought: She's got a boyfriend, anyway...

[bowiebond]

Hell’s Comin’ With Me by Poor Man’s Poison gives me major Billy’s real villain arc vibes. Here me out;

They all laughed as he turned around slow They said you ain't welcome 'round here anymore You just might as well go He wiped the blood from his face as he slowly came to his knees He said, I'll be back when you least expect it And hell's coming with me Hell's coming with me 

Billy dies and wakes up in the Upside Down, and he’s alone. No one else who got flayed and died is there. It’s just him. The quiet is enough to drive anyone insane.

There is a hill at the bottom of the valley Where all the poor souls go when they die And if you listen real close You can hear em' like a ghost Saying you're never gonna make it out alive 

He spends months there, it feels like years, and he spends every day getting angrier and angrier as he kills monsters with an axe he found and sharpens until it’s like butter to slice through their heads. He’s rage incarnate by the time he stumbles upon Henry’s home. He tries to taunt him with his memories, his despair, but for once, his anger is a stronger weapon than his trauma. Anger is who he is now, and there’s no keeping it on a leash. He does the unthinkable with all the time he has; he kills Vecna before he gets the chance to open his damn gates.

There is a town at the bottom of that hill They got a secret that they keep like a slave They got a black magic preacher (ooh) We'd do well to let him teach her You'll be heading up that hill to the grave

Vecna’s death causes a gaping hole, a gate, just like the first time. Billy knows it’s one, because the MindFlayer knew too. He takes his chance to leave, and he thought he’d feel relief, until he finds his grave. And the words on his headstone make acid slip from his heart into his veins and he realizes that nobody had even left him flowers, or tended to his headstone that’s beginning to grow moss at the base. He had been forgotten.

And it is well, with my soul You line your pockets full of money that you steal from the poor And on your way down to hell, you hear me ring that bell I'd pay the devil twice as much to keep your soul 

It’s even worse when he goes to his house and nobody is there. It’s sold. They fucking moved again, left his body in this hick town forever. It leads him to find the nearest drink - he doesn’t give a shit that he’s covered in black blood or that he’s carrying an axe. He’s shadowed by the night and he doesn’t care. But he walks into the nearest pub and there’s Susan, behind the bar, and it’s even worse than he imagined. He follows her to the trailer park and realizes that it was only Neil who left. And he is furious.

There was a drifter passing through that little valley See he had promised he was coming back to town (coming back to town) They didn't know him by his face, or by the gun around his waist (ooh) But he come back to burn that town to the ground 

His resolve is settled quickly, with fire in his gut. He wants this entire town to burn. This town that he used his last dying breath to save? He could stop it’s oxygen all together with his hands alone. He wanted it to crumble for forgetting him. It’s not hard to find Neil’s number. Phone books, they’re a miracle sometimes, and Susan has his last purchase on his card printed in her drawer like some fucking sap. “You better come back, you cowardly sack of shit. Your son has some final words to say to you before you discard your favorite punching bag, sir.”

First there was fire, then there was smoke Then that preacher man was hangin' by a rope Then they all fell to their knees and begged that drifter Begged him please, as he raised his fist before he spoke 

Neil comes. Of course he does. His son is alive, his possession is still functioning and he needs to be disciplined for disappearing, for talking to him like that, but the first thing he sees when he drives into Hawkins in smoke, and fire that doesn’t die when water douses it because it’s not from a match, it’s from Billy. “Nice of you to come back, old man.” Billy is doused in fresh red blood and grinning, axe dripping, and he looks like the wrath of God himself come to life. Murderous and bloody. He drags Neil out of the car with strength no human should possess, and it feels right to watch his fathers face crumble with pure fear as he kicks him down in the street.

I am the righteous hand of God And I am the devil that you forgot And I told you one day you will see That I'll be back I guarantee And that hell's coming, hell's coming Hell, hell's coming with me

With Vecna no longer connected to the hive mind, the last host is Billy. He is the host of the Upside Down, and his anger is the command to unleash when he splits his fathers head open with his axe against the concrete. Hawkins would be nothing by the dawn, and Billy can only feel a warped sense of justice and vindication as he watches his hell beasts, clones of ones he had slaughter many times in the beginning, destroy the town that had been the bane of existence since he arrived.

And it is well, with my soul You line your pockets full of money that you steal from the poor And on your way down to hell, you hear me ring that bell And I said, hell's coming with me (hell's coming with me)

Billy has won. And victory is sweet, and refreshing, and maddening. He is drunk on it. His only thought once Hawkins is nothing in the distance, is how far he can go with his new pets. How much can he destroy?

He would just have to find out, now wouldn’t he?

[bad4amficideas]

Earth 1T8 random HC's

(long post)

Note: English is not my language, so I hope you will be understanding of any flaws you find.

🦇 Y/N Wayne has been training since their new parents died. Alfred is a platonic yandere. So no, they don't disappear for 9 years, much less without giving any signs!!!! although the Al Ghul held them for a season where, of course, they continued training.

🦇 Alfred is papa you MUST love him because I said so, also his influence shows. In this home, because is not a house neither a mansion, is a hOMe, there is a point where killing is okay (especially if the other option is to make someone paraplegic or comatose or torture them for a lifetime, says Reader, inadvertently giving all their yanderes ideas). Self-demonstrated with the death of the Joker.

🦇 Reader literally throws that taunt at Batman from the original reality when he tries to censure them for killing Joker.

🦇 This led Harley Quinn to become their best friend... After the first one will go through a Mourning Time and improve her mental health realizing that the Bat had done her and the world a favor. Plus Reader got a free therapist and actual nice friend.

🦇 In fact, the cowl had all of that on tape and both Harley and Jason see those and the warehouse cameras from time to time, which doesn't speak highly of their mental health. Jason focuses more on Reader's suffering "they loves me, they loves me, they loves me".

🦇 And then somehow Ivy ended up in the mix of HarBat/ BatHar. And sometimes Selina. Well, at least that way they don't get into trouble (I lied they do, but without killing anyone which is better than nothing). Pamela works for Waynes Enterprises (and not as a biologist but dismantling organizations that harm the environment so that Wayne attorneys have work) and although Harley is no longer practicing she sometimes writes articles under another name and is happy with her daughter and girlfriend/s. They all keep destroying things and Selina keeps stealing so Reader goes after them paying damage and telling themselves that human lives are priceless.

🦇 Ra's Al Ghul and Tim Wayne are friends and enemies in the purest Charles Xavier and Eric Lehnsherr style but none good; yes including chess, although they also play shogi, go, chaturanga, janggi, xiangqi, markuk and senet via Ra's knowledge. It isn't uncommon for they play several at the same time.

🦇 Reader is ready to yell "mea culpa" if Tim Wayne rises one day as King of the World. Part of themselves would not be surprised at all but they will still look ugly at Ra's.

🦇 I hope I not surprise anyone, I already said that Tim had to do with Jason's resurrection, how do you think that happened? Here our Drake can take a player or two more to his dungeon game easyly.

🦇 Ric, aka Dick has tainted eyes with hot shiny gold details that seem to grow or not with his emotions from the crap the Court do to the Talons.

🦇 Something similar happens to Jason but in green 'cause Lazarus Pit. And his green doesn't vary and shine that creepyly.

🦇 Right now Ric is just a Talon (nº1 but Talon noneless) and has no pretense of anything else, like, why? but only as long as none stick their noses in his business (just tell him, SERIOUSLY, that he can't keep toying as now with his mousie, rat, little rodent Y/N), he might become Owlman and the new leader of the Court of the Owls and fuck them all.

🦇 I haven't invented the Powers family, they are canon characters, members of the Court of Owls. I only chose the non-dying ones that an IsekaiReader might have missed.

🦇 Every Wayne except Reader and Billy has thought about gouging out Ric eyes at some point. Including Alfred. Billy is more about cutting hands (not better anyway...)

🦇 There's a bet on how long Reader will take (or will) accept Ric on a date among the rich in Gotham. It's disproportionately large, whoever wins could get placed behind the Wayne family in wealth.

🦇 Writer here is sad to have made Tim and Dick super hot (from their POV) and not Jason's too. They promises to work on him.

🦇 I compare Yan!Batman to chessmaster and Yan!Tim Wayne to dungeon master because Tim still tries to make Reader have "fun" with him and his twisted schemes, which is why so many suggestions to adopt kids. And why, if Gotham runs out of villains, he is capable and becomes a new Joker.

🦇 SuperboyBat adoption was something Tim didn't count on, though. But since the batcave and his own place have lead and are soundproof... and hey, another yandere to protect Bat!

🦇 Speaking of SuperBat, I can see all the kids agreeing to join the various groups that Bat doesn't want to belong to keep an eye on them. Something like: Shazam and Hood in JL, RRobin and SuperBat in YJ, then RRobin goes to Titans and takes care of the League of Assassins in his spare time, Spoiler and BlackBat/Orphan are the youngest (minus Billy and tecnically Conner) training with Batwoman and usually cover Gotham when their lovely Reader wants a vacations and BatGirl/Oracle coordinates everything alongs Alfred and will support in terrain the team which needs it in due course because she's so badass she can be wherever she wants whenever she wants. Oracle is too the link with GCPD (here, we BatmanBeyond and she could become Police Commissioner)

🦇 Dark twist but Wayne and their "fetishes" for black-haired children was a media scandal for a really long time that had everyone at the Mansion with their teeth and claws pulled out. Cass hit someone in front of the cameras Although the bets on the house were that Conner or Jason would be the firsts ones in put a hit (btw Billy won the bet)

🦇 Also a very hurt Stephanie who actually dyed her hair for a long time, feeling less loved. This is when Reader joined what the hell are you saying? And put an end to all rumors.

🦇 The kids order of "age" by physical appearance ('cause Conner) here are: Dick (actually tiny age swap in comparison), Jason, Tim & Conner, Cass & Steph, then Billy. Better sibling relationships? Jason-Conner, Cass-Billy, Tim-Steph. First three in university or working, last three about to enter it.

🦇 At least one of the kids learned to play an instrument because they heard that Bat liked it.

🦇 Tim would have studied whatever is studied to be CEO for appearances and then more things for his own interest but not at public ears. Jason ofc literature and actually can legally teach and be both a journalist and editor of any kind. Conner has a remix of subjects that nobody knows where he's going (but it will not be journalism). The rest beg not to have to think about it.

🦇 In each Gala, everyone, each one of the kids regardless of gender, must dance the same number of times with Reader as Ric dance (to decontaminate them) Everyone knows that dancing with Y/N Wayne is a privilege.

🦇 And Cass and Y/N dancing is always worth leaving space and enjoying, like a professional show, apparently Cass is the best dancer.

🦇 And each one of Ric and Reader dances makes the viewers think someone needs a shower (and maybe are the viewers and not the dancers).

🦇 Reader can wear like only black/grey/white in the galas. Why? Because red (Jason, Tim, Billy), orange (Tim), yellow (Cass, Tim too, is greedy our fiery drake), purple (Steph) or indigo (Conner) and they will pout. Then with their relationship with the Al Ghul is, 99% best neither wear green... That leaves blues, but once Ric mentioned that he loved seeing Reader in blue. So, imagine, blues is a NONO, all children agreed in that. If they dresses in color they has to keep a calendar and make sure to go to a gala with each one of their colors on their suit, shirt, tie, jacket or dress at least once in the same year. KIDS!!!

🦇 So local our Bat might at times also looks at the local goth rich of Gotham City like, what a remedy!

🦇 Tim Wayne as his counterpart uses a bo (but his with hidden blades in both extremes) and also his suit has retractable claws (in both hands and foot), in that it resembles Talon's (whom has an infinite belt of kunais/knives and two sica -short- swords). Even if Tim hits you without taking them out, it's going to hurt.

🦇 Jason's suit in his protections looks very "knighty", in social networks they sometimes call him that, Gotham Knight, Hooded Knight, Red Knight. It also doesn't help that this Jason prefers knives and swords This Jason is still Wonder Woman fan, after all (and of course the hidden pistol so that no one sees the bullets coming, thinking that he's the knight who always goes with the swordfighting).

🦇They call him that because as I said in the previous post, the Bat is the Ruler/King/Queen of the Night/Gotham much to the Court dismay

🦇 Batwoman doesn't have that shit, guns are and don't hide it. I lowkey ship this version of her with Selina and Huntress XD (...Selina would be then in both relationships with Harley+Ivy one side and Batwoman+Huntress in the other???? ^-^)

🦇 Cass always tends to melee and at times uses a kubotan in a fighting style kinda Ty Lee in AtLA. Reader thinks she looks more like a deadly assassin squirrel than a bat, and that she would be more comfortable without the cape, but there is no way.

🦇 Stephanie main weapon is the Bat's Utility Belt which makes Reader adore her (somebody listen to me!!!) Sound, light, smoke, paralyzing gases and sleeping bombs, small explosives, everyone see her take a tiny ball out of her belt and everyone cover their face and run. I'm very proud of Stephanie. She also fights with sticks similar but no to Nightwing ones.

🦇 Superbat and Shazam have powers so they don't count, but 1T8 Shazam's cape is black because of his family (because black is bad is a bad cliche). Superbat's clothing looks like the Red Hood from the Main Universe but with other colors (and without helmet), which always brings Reader a smile.

The first time I wrote Earth 1T8, I was considering various ideas for the "facade" of our Reader of course some inspired by many of the hcs that run on tumblr. I share them, you can choose to your venom.

🦇 I confess it was my first idea: Almost canon but wilder and at the same time more "you can't get close to me because I'm not really here, hehehe" Rich but easyly addicted to anything and easy to hate person, the typical one who appears one day paragliding at the other end of the world, then disappears a month for being in a drug addiction center, then they are at a party in Gotham flirting, they say they were bitten by a bear! then they say that they went diving with sharks... In this case Reader would add being a daddy's pampered child, adrenaline junkie, and Alfred would direct WE until Tim's appearance. And the children would be Afred's attempt to make them settle down.

🦇 Totally stick with canon. Reader man or woman or both or neither, I don't care. Partying and going out and having sex with whoever it moved I wanted. Psychologists say that Reader is trying to fill the emotional void of their parents' death with physical pleasure. It's unfortunate, but does it seem like they're trying to get better, getting involved with WE and adopting children?

🦇 You are a stereotypical rich. You do enough at work not to look like someone who is in home every day although most think that you are in your work, as decoration. And if you put on finery and make donations it's obviously to reduce taxes, it's clear that you imitate your parents. And heaven knows what adopted children thing come to.

🦇 The kid's trauma was too much. Kinda, If I give enough money and show and DO my good intentions, and I think 90% of Gotham has my name on its back by now btw, everything will work out. Kittens and rainbows and flowers and so on, on instagram. I heart Gotham. Sucks!

🦇 Tired, tired, tired parent who returns from work and thanks their own father for keeping the house being on fire. Because even having their own apartments, most of their kids are more in the mansion than in their own homes. Also, who are the responsibles do I have 5 missed calls from BOTH Gotham Academy and College/University AGAIN?

[magniloquent-raven]

(pt1 here)

billy grew up afraid of finding his soulmate.

when he was eight his father caught him trying to wash nail polish off with soap and a hand towel.

he’d heard girls at school saying it was what you did when your soulmate was a boy. you were supposed to paint yourself up all pretty and find the person who matched. and it was easy enough to sneak into the vanity and steal a bottle of his mother’s nail polish. but once the paint dried he realized it would be impossible to hide from his father, and he panicked.

his mother showed him the bottle of nail polish remover after neil left. dabbed some on a cotton ball to rub at the thick layer of paint. she was silent, kneeling on the floor in front of him cradling his sprained wrist while he sat on the edge of the tub and cried.

they both had questions, but neither of them got answers.

it took billy months to work up the courage to try again.

he wasn’t sure why he was bothering, at first. he knew he couldn’t look for his soulmate the traditional way. and he was constantly terrified that his father would find the supplies he’d started hoarding. it seemed like more risk than reward, and yet. he couldn’t stop himself.

every time he was allowed to wander off in a store alone he’d slip something into his pocket. a tube of lip gloss. a compact full of shiny powders. he wasn’t even sure what some of it was, he just liked the colours. liked the pictures they hung alongside the displays. he wanted to look like that. beautiful.

and in his heart of hearts, he wanted the boy who was out there waiting for him to know he existed. whether they’d be able to find each other or not.

he’s more careful with this than he was with the nail polish. his father works saturday nights, and his mother always visits their neighbour while he’s at work. despite having the house to himself he locks his bedroom door.

the first thing he tries is the watermelon lip gloss. it’s sticky, and the wand doesn’t fit in his hand comfortably, but once he’s smeared it on he feels...good. he likes the way it catches the light. likes the way it smells. he looks at himself in the mirror and likes seeing something different.

the high doesn’t last long, it inevitably gives way to paranoia, anxiety that has him glancing at the locked door every thirty seconds, heart pounding, wondering if just maybe his father will get home from work early, and he jumps at every sound, hearing boots thudding on the porch and car doors slamming and anything that could be neil coming through the door.

cleaning himself up is hard. panic makes his hands shake, his eyes well up. he drops everything on the floor when he tries to tuck the bag away. and he has to spend twenty minutes with his back to his bedroom door getting his breathing under control when he’s finished.

but he does it again the following saturday. and the one after that.

for five months he does this. locks himself away with his stolen treasures and lets himself live a little. it gets easier as time goes on. and his mind wanders sometimes. to a future where he gets to share this with someone. the boy out there who’s supposed to love him one day.

it’s a small bubble of a dream. one he doesn’t spend too much time dwelling on. not when there’s neil’s voice in his head, telling him that no one could love a fucking freak, ‘cause fags don’t get real soulmates anyways.

he wants and he wishes, but the more he thinks about it the more he doubts. he’s never gotten a mark from his soulmate, and even if he did some day, what if his father’s right, and his “soulmate” doesn’t want him or makes him miserable or...worse.

so he does his makeup for himself.

until, like all good things in his life, his father ruins it.

he never found out what set neil off initially, something going wrong at work maybe, or the martial strife of the week getting to him. whatever it was that started it, neil eventually decided billy should bear the brunt of the fallout.

so he went through his things. said billy’d been acting cagey lately, and he was going to find out why.

and then found the makeup bag stuffed into an old sweater in his closet.

it was ugly. the things neil said that day would play on repeat in billy’s head for years afterwards. the scars his belt left on billy’s back were nothing in comparison.

the next saturday came and went. billy spent the evening curled up under a blanket not bothering to wipe away the tears dripping down his face.

by morning he’s resolved to forget the whole thing. to put it behind him. because it was stupid, and risky and childish and maybe his father was right. he’s almost convinced himself. and then he notices ink on his arm, as he reaches up to rub his eyes. messy scrawl, i bet you looked pretty crookedly written up his forearm.

he didn’t think he was able to cry any more, but he manages it.

for the first time his soulmate isn’t just a concept, or a what-if, he’s...a person. he’s a real person out there somewhere. someone who doesn’t even know billy and still wanted to reach out, to offer comfort. it’s more than he’s gotten from anyone else. even his mother. who he knows loves him, and she does her best to protect him, but when she found out about his makeup stash she just looked sad, and she’s said nothing to him about it.

but his soulmate…

can never, ever meet neil.

the thought hits him right in the chest.

whoever he is, he cares, he’s good. and neil breaks good things.

billy falls asleep that night tracing the empty space where his soulmate’s message used to be, wrapped up in worries and dreams, and terrified for someone he’s never met.

the doodles that come and go over the years are terrifying and exhilarating and billy manages to hide every single one from his father. they only ever show up during the day, and they don’t linger. something billy is both grateful for and resentful of.

sometimes he’ll watch other boys’ hands in class. check them for drawings. he thinks he’s being careful, but a girl in his chem class, becca, catches him. she says it’s only because she knew what to look for. they share a cigarette under the bleachers and she tells him about a girl who likes green eyeshadow and writes homework reminders on her wrists using stars instead of bullet points.

it takes billy six months and a couple shots of tequila to tell her about watermelon lip gloss and bet you’re pretty and they both cry when he starts to wonder if his soulmate will be disappointed that he isn’t a girl.

on a rainy april afternoon she asks him to go to a gay bar with her. he tells his father he’s going on a date. she tells her’s that she had to reschedule a tutoring session and it’ll run pretty late.

they wait til it’s dark and get ready in a dingy gas station bathroom. when she’s smearing on her eyeliner she catches sight of his face in the cloudy mirror. he wasn’t going to ask her for anything. he wouldn’t have brought it up. the twinge in his heart and a hollow feeling of longing aren’t anything new, he can deal.

he feels and empty kind of rage every time old, well-meaning relatives give max girly lip gloss kits and eyeshadow pallets and shit normal preteen girls who care about finding their soulmates actually appreciate. she always rolls her eyes and throws them away. susan will fish them out of the trash sometimes, and leave them under the bathroom sink, like if max just sees them there she’ll suddenly give a shit and start using them. like them being there does anything but taunt billy with what he can’t have.

neil watches him like a fucking hawk every time that shit comes into the house. and max doesn’t fucking care. doesn’t notice.

but becca offers.

and.

he’s not about to say no.

he should’ve said no.

it feels good at first, like it used to, it feels like freedom and he likes what he sees when he looks in the mirror, and he kisses a boy for the first time and it isn’t fireworks but it’s something, and he thinks maybe it’s going to be a good night, but then…

neil is waiting on the curb outside becca’s house. they were heading there first, because her parents wouldn’t notice, she said it would be fine, she has makeup remover he can use, he can clean up and head home and everything was supposed to be okay, except. it wasn’t.

it’s the last time he sees becca. neil tells her parents what was actually going on, and she isn’t allowed to visit him in the hospital.

and then six months of rehab, one rushed wedding and a big ugly sold sign later, neil carts them off to hawkins, indi-fucking-ana. as a “family.”

billy was certain this town would be nothing but a prison. it’d be somewhere he’d never find a place to be himself, neil would make sure of that. there wasn’t a single thing to like about this place and its bullshit small town sensibilities. for all the open space it might as well have been stone walls and steel bars.

except.

except...here was a boy with soft eyes and nimble fingers, who gets a little wrinkle between his brows when he concentrates, and is always moving, fidgeting, fiddling with zippers and touching his elbows and looking at him makes billy itch. to touch, to soothe, to take, and…

things get complicated when aimless blue waves scrawl up billy’s arm. when steve follows him out into the parking lot. calls him pretty to his face. and suddenly billy’s eight years old and realizing this shit is real. terrified of what that could mean. spinning fragile dreams like spider’s silk, hard to shake but easy to destroy.

even entertaining the idea of putting on makeup while he’s still in hawkins is stupid and dangerous, but goddamn if he hasn’t risked more for less.

he’s sure he’ll regret it. like he’s regretted every other desperate bid for freedom. but when faced with steve harrington’s smile, he can’t find it in himself to say no.

(edit: pt3 here)

[the-cult-of-russo]

headcanon for when billy realizes he’s in love with reader? i’m such a sucker for romantic and soft billy😫

I love this. I'm going to go a little beyond just when he first realises too. You'll see. It's turned into more of a 'when Billy's in love with you' headcanon.

I'll break it down into sections once again. It's just easier that way 😌

-

When he first realises he loves you:

Oh man. Billy doesn't realise he's in love until he's so far gone he's drowning in it lmao

He has no idea why he gets crazy ass butterflies in his stomach every time he just thinks about you. No idea why his heart beats all funny when he looks at you or why his chest feels all warm. He doesn't know why everytime he's away from you his chest hurts and it feels like someone's punched a gaping hole right through it. The boy has no clue.

But then one day, he's out drinking with Frank, having a good time. And Frank's been going on and on about Maria, absolutely gushing about her. Billy being the good best friend he is, teases him of course. Sends him an offhand remark with a smirk. And Frank replies with...

"Yeah well. That's what happens when you're in love."

The words feel like a smack to the face. Suddenly, Billy feels like he's free falling, plummeting at record speed towards the concrete from a 50 story building. Because he relates. All the sickening gushing Frank had been doing, Billy got it. He does it himself about you. And Frank's words make everything click into place, Billy's world is suddenly tilting on its axis. Because what if you don't feel the same? Why would you when own his mother couldn't muster up any love for him?

He freaks out. His mind is going to dark places as his heart feels ready to give out. Frank sees him looking a second away from collapsing in a heap on the floor and takes him outside. After some brotherly advice and tough love, he feels a little better.

He still won't tell you though. Of course not, that's just fucking stupid. The fear of rejection runs far too deep in Billy to admit such a thing and he doesn't know how he'd cope if you broke his heart. If he lost the only person he's ever been in love with. So he resolves to keep it to himself. Its kind of nice though, to finally know just what it is that he's been feeling. It was obvious really. People write love songs about this bullshit. The same songs Billy's been listening to like a love sick fool because he gets it. He relates to the words.

-

How he tells you:

Billy won't outright tell you he loves you first. At least not on purpose. There are three likely scenarios that happen.

The first is you telling him you love him first. This is his best case scenario. He blinks warily at you for a moment, dark eyes rapidly scanning your face as he tries to find even the slightest hint of deception. It's not that he doesn't trust you, but he finds it almost impossible to believe anyone would ever be in love with him.

But when he realises you're telling the truth, he's dumbstruck. He's stunned but overwhelmingly happy and he tells you he loves you too. It feels like a weights been lifted, to finally tell you, to know you haven't turned him away. That you actually love him too.

The second way it might happen is him blurting it out randomly. This might happen during or after some amazing sex. Maybe you're both snuggled on the sofa and laughing about something stupid. He just looks at your wide and radiant smile and it strikes him how absolutely hopelessly in love with you he is. How lucky he is to be with you. And his mouth takes on a life of its own. The words tumble from his lips without his consent and he panics.

Total blind fear claws at his chest when he realises what he's said. He fears the worst. That you'll say you don't feel the same, maybe even laugh at him. Yet you don't do those things. You tell him you love him too. He reacts the same as the other scenario. Wary at first until he sees you mean it. And then he's overjoyed and shocked and confused but ridiculously happy.

The last scenario is similar to the other one in that it gets blurted out. Only this time it's during a heated discussion or argument. I made a whole headcanon post about arguing with Billy and another on the kind of things you might argue about.

This isn't a huge fight but most likely caused by something you did that he saw as reckless. Something like you walking home from work in the dark instead of getting a cab or calling him. Is he being overdramatic? Definitely. He knows this. But he's so terrified something might happen to you and it frustrates him that you don't see that. That you have no idea how much it would kill him if you got hurt. And in the middle of all the anger and the blind fear and intensity in the moment, after a biting remark from you, the words get ripped from his chest.

"Because I fuckin' love you, alright?! I'd die if somethin' happened to you! So you don't get to stand there and tell me it's no big deal!"

He's full of barely restrained rage at the mere thought of someone hurting you and he's sad and upset that you don't seem to care much about your own wellbeing.

But now it's a tense silence because he just blurted those words and worst of all, he yelled them at you. It was all going wrong and he hates it. But his panic was kept at bay by his anger, his only outwards reactions being the clenched jaw, the narrowed eyes and the roll of his shoulder. He's steeling himself for the inevitable. The searing pain of rejection.

But then you're yelling right back that you love him too and calling him an asshole and he's never been happier in his damn life. And with emotions still running high from the fight, he tosses you over his shoulder and takes you to the bedroom so he can show you just how much he loves you.

-

Ways he shows you he loves you:

Any of these that don't involve the words 'I love you' he's already been doing a while. But he continues to do so after that hurdle of first telling you passes and he gets comfortable with telling you verbally at every chance he gets.

He loves taking care of you. If he's off work he loves making you breakfast in bed. He loves cooking for you, he's actually quite good at it. He draws you relaxing baths, sometimes joining you and not even for sex. If you've had a hard day at work, he'll put your feet in his lap as you sit on the sofa with him and rub your sore feet.

He often buys you your favorite flowers, always accompanied by a sweet note. When you're both at work, he stops by your work for lunch because he can't stand a whole day away from you.

Since he wakes before you, he often just lays there and watches you. With the sun rising and bathing you in its glow, he watches in awe of how he managed to get someone as amazing as you. He doesn't dwell on these moments for too long though. His treacherous brain has a habit of poisoning anything good. If he lays there too long, his thoughts turn sour as the voice in the back of his head tells him he's not good enough for you. He doesn't deserve you, deserve your love. You'll leave him one day, realise you deserve way better than someone like him. He was an unloved and unwanted child, and that little boy is still there inside of him, hiding behind his bravado and his fancy ass suits. It's a downward spiral he finds it hard to come back from and he learned his lesson long ago. So instead, he allows himself a moment to admire you, appreciate you, and then he gets up for the day.

He doesn't wake you, you look so sweet and peaceful and he doesn't have the heart to. You don't need to get up as early as he does. Sometimes, if he's feeling particularly sappy, he leaves a note for you on his pillow. Letting you know how much he loves you and that he'll miss you while at work.

Gifts are abundant with Billy. It doesn't matter what it is, if you want it then it's yours. If it's expensive, it's yours. Cheap, it's yours. Weird and rare and very hard to get, he finds a way and it's yours. He's also a sucker for sentimental gifts. Jewellery that means something, maybe the date you met engraved on it. Some kind of photo gift with a picture of the two of you.

Billy has a lot of affection to give you. I've talked about this in other posts but he's a tactile person. He always needs to be touching you, reassuring himself you're real, you're safe and you're there with him. He often puts his hand on your neck, slender fingers feeling your pulse under them. It soothes him to do so. There's plenty of kisses on your head, temples, shoulders, neck, cheeks. He can't help it. He also loves stroking your hair. His hand are always attached to you like there's a gravitational pull towards you he can't resist. There's at least one hand on you at all times if you're near.

-

Billy doesn't fall for people easily. It's never happened before you. But when he falls, he falls hard. It's an all consuming kind of love that takes over his whole being.

[withoneheadlight]

| billy & will + pre-harringrove | full fic in spanish |

~

There’s an in-between. The high school and the middle school. A bare piece of land, yellowed from the lack of grass and the rough kiss of the sun and, right in the middle, an old shack.

It's a shabby thing that accumulates lack of re-paintings and excess of humidity but that’s out of sight, in that way of things that are just there but no one wastes time looking at anymore are.

That's where they meet.

Billy lights up a smoke. Slides his ass up an ancient, long retired desk, pasture now of the damp and rot, and leans against the peeling wood. Front and back-row seat to the long column of trees the wind’s rippling along on the other side of the wire fence. The ember warms up his lips as he inhales a deep puff and exhales a,

“You’re getting soft, Billy Hargrove”

He leans his head back and closes his eyes, ears on that ceaseless chirping of the bids that sews together the slow-passing hours of the days and nights of Indiana, and on the delighted screams from the middle-schoolers, remembering that, somewhere in there, there's a bunch of kids who will still be laughing just as hard, just as happy, a few years down the road. That maybe even Max could be one of them, if Billy hurries. That maybe he will too, if Billy is able to control that instinctive reaction that pulls his skin inward and screams at him to stopstopstop, that the soft skin shreds, falls apart so easily.

But maybe it can be both of them, if Billy manages to clench his teeth hard enough and keep on softening.

‘Cause soft skin hurts when it breaks but,

"Hey!"

Sometimes it’s worth it.

Will’s smiling wide. Stops running, abruptly, and then just stands in there, panting. He’s got a funny nose and giant eyes. The kind of bangs that make you wanna blow them out of his eyes even though what they're is too short, actually, and Billy’s always thought he'd do better in life if he didn't. Notice things. If he didn't see that widewidewidewide smile and could read it so easily.

"I've been dying to show you this!" Will kneels down into the grass, chopping out the words in between exhalations. Pulls at the zipper of his backpack, chest heaving, and he doesn't realize he's going to get dirt on the knees of his jeans or that Billy can read it. His relief. Of finding him in here and not just an empty desk. Of how for a kid every single day more means 'You care’.

(About me)

It was early December. Friday right after last period and one of those silly things that only happen in movies. Something so like scripted and choreographed that Billy nearly considered looking up at the ceiling to make sure John Hughes wasn't silently watching them, taking notes from above. They crashed in the middle of a corner. Billy sped up ‘cause he was in a hurry and the only way to catch Max in time lately was to intercept her right out of class. Will ‘cause he's always going like that, Billy knows now. Always a thousand miles per hour. Always verging on time-jump speed to then being the kind of kid who seems so quiet it's scary. They crashed. Hard. In the middle of that corner. Papers flying all over and a curse (Will) and a muffled groan (Billy) and they ended up pulling at the same paper one from each corner. A drawing. Trolls and wizards and a castle and an emerald-green light. A star in the distance, auguring bad omens. Billy forgot to be frightening and Will must have forgotten he was supposed to be frightened when he blurted out a,

"Fuck, Byers. This is frikin’ fantastic."

No fear or reticence or that way he sometimes has of bumping into words and stumbling, just a "Really?" eyes huge and bangs brushing against his eyelashes as he blinked when Billy also forgot he was also supposed to― well, supposed to be Billy Hargrove.

"’Got more?"

So now he skips English instead of Algebra, every Tuesday and Thursday. Sneaks off to that in-between place he knows no one wastes time looking at anymore to light up a smoke, same time as Will has his recess. And the kid doesn't always manage to shrug off of his flock of nerds but he’s lucky, some days.

And he brings the drawings.

Orcs and goblins and enchanted mountains on the northwest and it seems to Billy that there are more princes than princesses and that if there are any, they’re almost always sorceresses, almost always queens and that your attention gets hooked on their burning eyes, not in the clothes they’re missing and Billy feels like it's a small grain of sand, this thing they’re doing. Knows that someone’s already keeping a solid ground under Will's feet ('Joyce' he says it’s her name. And it stings, the way he manages to fit so much love, into such a tiny word). But it also seems to him that maybe it doesn't take much more, for Will, just a few grains of sand, to replace those that being a strange kid in a small town sick with apprehension for what it finds strange, takes every day away from him.

So Billy’s gotta have to clench his teeth ‘till his gums start bleeding ‘cause is that, or let his skin toughen up again. Is that. Or fucking everything up.

And ave María, Billy doesn’t want to fuck it all up again.

So he sucks on his cigarette. Hooks up an eyebrow. Waves his hand to hurry the kid up.

“Mmm. That’s how good you think it is, dickwad? ‘C’mon, got my next class in twenty”

Will flies over the papers. Head nodding and fingers skimming fast. Finds what he’s looking for and yanks it out, raises it up triumphantly in his hand. It’s the sword in the stone and he carries it up to Billy with wet knees and just a little mud-staining. It’s February and the sun’s burning brightly over all the wetness the night’s spent crying. The drawing is a huge dragon, wings made of leather and cartilage, spread out in eclipse in front of the moon, only a few silver rays illuminating the dark knight in front of it. Blue eyes lined in black, blond curls cascading down his back and Billy was clenching his teeth but they part now, ‘cause the figure looks too much like him to be a coincidence. A smile devours his whole mouth. Soft. A joke itching on the tip of his tongue. He grunts a,

“I’ve been called many things. But never this, Byers”

Only half his expression’s visible, eyebrows covered with those thick bangs, and Billy has to once again fight the impulse to blow them out.

“¿Hum?”

“Knight” he says, drawling the teasing tone out “In shining armor”

And It’s such a loss, all that hair. Because it’d pass unseen, if you don’t know him. The way his eyebrows spike up underneath and it burrows in between them, the eagerness of teasing back. But Billy’s lucky, ‘cause it’s been more than two months like this and Billy―

Knows him. Well enough at least. So it doesn't pass unseen to him.

“You know the drill, William. Spit it out. Can see you’re holding it up from miles”

Will purses his lips out tight. Looks like he’s trying but. Nah.

“Wouldn’t be that shiny '' scrunches his nose. Throws a meaningful glance at Billy’s disheveled looks. More thoughtful than not, way more intentional. But that's something he'll figure out when he grows up.

Billy cackles. Will's smile widens, satisfied. Hops onto the desk next to his. Billy offers him the cigarette.

“And―this?” Will shrugs inwardly. Glances up at him. Then down, at the exchange between their hands. Takes the cig in between two fingers and it doesn’t burn but he barely presses them against the filter, anyway, as if he’s afraid it would, all of a sudden.

"Retaliation," Billy half grunts, half laughs, and Will huffs, but swallows a deep breath to gather strength. Exhales. Takes a tiny puff and―

"Argg," coughscoughscoughs "This is. Ugh. It's awful. I don't know how you―” almost throws the cigarette back to him "Ufff, what a―" he hesitates "Yuck"

Billy snorts. Thinks about Max inhaling deep, no more than two weeks ago, eyes pining his in place. Breaking into a violent cough only a second later.

Billy pats Will’s back too.

“That’s good” he says “You better not like it” Will scrunches his whole face “And this too” Billy adds, shaking the drawing a little “This is good, too. Amazingly good, man”

Will. Stares. At him. One. Two. Three long seconds. And Billy hurts a little. With every single one. Three sharp stabs with that newly freed sword. A different kind of ' you care' each one: 'it seems so impossible to me (that you care)'. 'If you think so, maybe it's true (and I do care, that you think it)’. 'Thank you (for caring)'. And then. Those hidden eyebrows. Will’s cheeks puffing out a little when he bites the tip of his tongue and―

"Billy?" his eyes glint, heavy with ill-contained malice.

"Uh?"

"You're the dragon"

"You fucking ass―!"

Billy shoves him sideways. But Will just sways. He doesn't lose footing on that firm ground he’s standing on. Looks back at the drawing, hunches a shoulder up.

"But you’re the knight, too"

He says it in a tone that cuts straight through Billy’s chest Thank you he thinks, even though his soft skin is hurting. And he still doesn't blow hard on that bowl fringe from where it covers Will’s whole forehead but―

Stirs up all his hair instead.

“Eh!!”

“Hey, shitbird. Wanna see the one I’ve made?”

Will nods quickly. All contained-speed and reverberating and sometimes Billy doesn't know how so few people can see it, how big he is for his own skin and he thinks I wish, wish he'd accumulate enough grains of sand to raise up that firm ground under his feet, and get really, really high.

“Sure!”

He keeps it tucked away in the breast pocket of his jacket. Folded in upon itself. Same way he keeps everything else. Folds and layers and at the bottom of pockets no one ever looks at but.

He unfolds it to show it to Will Byers.

“Wow” Will says, and smiles up at Billy like Two months since we crashed against each other and I feel like I know you a little too, Billy Hargrove and Billy hit rock bottom but now at least Max and him sing AC/DC in chorus on the rides back home and Will's voice sounds like 'You're good' as he runs his fingertips over the graphite outlines of the skull and repeats, "Wow"

“Gonna have it done” Billy inhales a deep drag of Marlboro and 'Four Months to Eighteen' and for a moment it’s like he could feel the smoke curl up inside his lungs before blowing it out. The image is as pretty as it’s stupid. He glances at the open jaw of the drawing and thinks maybe he'd like a drag too "Have it healed for summer and―"

“What’s happening here?”

Steve.

Harrington.

Hand on his hips, preppy pastel polo lapels up, Ray-Bans holding up that way his hair swirls without really taming it. The twelve o'clock sun is shining sideways from his back and he's pretty. Painfully pretty. And Billy’s sure it's impossible that this redneck raised on corn and money amassed in dubious moral business is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen but sometimes he forgets. That it is impossible because. Fuck. It so seems like it. Light flicking on the ends of his hair where it curls. Under his ear. In the long curve of his neck. And the world doesn't halt and the birds don't stop chirping and the clouds don't part and no preternatural shit happens because this is the black hole where all the world's shit goes, Indiana. But. It so seems like it and,

Billy.

Knew how to breathe but that’s another thing he keeps on forgetting. Every time Steve Harrington passes him by.

He’s gotta force himself. To nod. To stop choking. When Will looks up at him with those big eyes. Questioning.

Apologizing.

Billy Hargrove, from freshly crowned local terror to―

“I was―” Will starts. Inhales. Presses his lips together right before blurting out the truth ‘cause he knows it's the only real way out "Showing Billy my drawings. Sometimes we―"

―the softie whose pride goes high up in his throat every time an eleven-year-old kid says 'Billy, this is good. It's very. Very good, Billy’.

"Sometimes we. Uhm. We―"

Will's already huge eyes get bigger, rounder. As if he’s just realizing that where he's stuck his foot keeps getting muddier, trapping himself all the way in. And Billy smiles lightly at him, sideways, so it’s hidden. From Steve Harrington. From all the world beyond. ‘Cause of that thing about facades and how hard they’re to maintain, when on one side is pressing what you're supposed to be and on the other, relentlessly, what you're hiding.

But Steve’s asking,

“Sometimes―what?” and Will’s eyes are fixed on Billy, two wide-open I’m sorrys and Billy thinks Fuck it, Hargrove. C’mon. Stop hiding.

So he’s the one who says,

“We share our drawings, Harrington”

And Steve.

He’s got those eyes.

They're like a troubled ocean in the heart of winter, those eyes. Hard, hard, hard. Imposing. But soft. So fucking soft. When something catches him off guard. Rolling stones in the breaker. And Billy wants to get swept up in them, like falling along the curve of a wave. Steve looks at him, and at the drawing in his hand, his eyes a swirl and, when he looks up, the calm. And Billy feels as those times when it seemed to him the waves wanted. To wrap around him. To catch him. Soft as the reflecting clouds. And Billy feels as those times when he’d let them. Carry him. Drag him to the shore. Safe and sound.

“Is that yours?” Steve frowns. When he does that. He looks the prettiest. And Billy's heart breaks. In tiny tiny pieces. Thinks This is what it takes, thinks Fuck, thinks, This is how things hurt when you let your skin get soft.

What you don’t have. What you want. What you could―

Fuck.

What you could love so bad you'd rip your own skin off, so they could touch your heart right with their own hands.

Billy nods. Will smiles. Steve’s frown softens and― waveswaveswaves. On an autumn morning. Waves lapping at the surface of an ocean of calm.

And now. Billy sings AC/DC with Max. His heart taking on water when his voice falls off-key and she clutches at her lungs, choking on laughter. Now, he sits in the back of an old shack halfway between who he is and who he should be and so, so very carefully turns at the pages of Will Byers' sketchbook.

And Billy Hargrove hit rock bottom one day in late October. Hit rock bottom and beat into pulp that pretty face he can't stop seeing in his dream. When he's asleep. When he's awake. Hit rock bottom and that's where he's going to stay. It's either that. Or risk coming up to the wrong surface. And it's easier, here at the bottom. Easier to see what matters, when you look up.

Here, Billy takes a breath. Deep. Deeper. Holds onto that air so he has something keeping him alive underwater when Steve snatches the drawing off his hands. Studies it carefully. Says,

"It's―Uhm. Well―" Grins "It's not. Beautiful. Like, conventionally." He eyes cut back to Billy and something in them breaks into whitewater, into that softness he can't help, as if everything else is as much of a lie as 'Billy Hargrove' and all those imaginary walls "But―"

He says ‘But’ and then. The bell goes off.

"Oh!" Will bounces on the spot "I have to―" he yanks the backpack shut "Class!"

He takes off. Running. Turning around right before the corner of the shack to wave at them, flashing one of those smiles Billy has involuntarily categorized as 'the good ones', wide and already almost panting again, before disappearing at the speed of light towards school and to, Billy hopes, be one of those few kids who are still going to be laughing just as hard, just as happy, a few years down the road. If they’re lucky.

(If Billy’s lucky)

Steve Harrington is still there, planted in front of him when the alarm stops.

"Can I bump one of those?" he asks, chin pointing to the smoke Billy's squeezing between his fingers. In the drift of his hair the Ray-Bans stay afloat, capsizing.

Billy bangs the base of the pack against his thigh, pops out a cigarette. Offers it to him. Scrapes his thumb along the wheel when Steve takes it to his lips, leaning forward and― It's broad daylight but in the thin glow of the flame it almost feels like it’s that exact instant when the world begins to fade, darkness turning wide-open spaces into narrow little universes: Steve Harrington and his red lips around the smoke and a small ache in the pad of Billy's thumb from keeping alive the fire and from wanting things with a bigger kind of ache, his heart cauterizing from holding inside the rage of knowing he's never, ever going to have them but―

"But?" Billy asks.

Steve grabs his wrist. Hollows out his cheeks. Inhales deep. Takes him a moment when he pulls away. To let go. Long enough that his fingers could read the way Billy's pulse is raging in his wrist, if he wanted to.

“But” And he’s smiling. Lopsided. He slips into Will's seat and stretches his neck toward the sky. Prolongs the wait. Exhales. "It's cute."

And then his gaze cuts down and he’s searching for him, with those eyes of his. For Billy, who can never stop looking at him so, when he finds him, finds him looking back already.

And Billy―

Billy.

"Cute?"

Billy. Blinks. His hand stops halfway from getting his own cigarette to his mouth. Stops his heart and it feels like time’s stopping too, in this narrowness Steve's presence has reduced the moment into. And he’s smiling big now. His eyes soft. Soft. So fucking soft. And Billy thinks,

You're getting soft too, Billy Hargrove. You want to let him shred off your skin, when Steve says,

"You," snorting a soft laugh, sun melting in his eyes like honey "With Will. Drawing."

Billy wants him to never stop looking at him like that. Wants to lean in, and kiss him.

"Shut up and smoke your fucking cigarette, Harrington" he growls.

And Steve rolls his eyes in a way that screams 'Gotcha, Hargrove', but leans his back against the peeling wood of the shack.

And does as he’s told.

(Next Tuesday, it's not just Will who shows up, when the bell starts ringing)

.

.

i just finished translating this and, since i had originally written this part as and stand-alone thing. here it is. idk if it's worth the work of translating it whole, or if i really feel like it but, we'll see!. i've been at war with life and writing this past few weeks but i've been missing you so much, fandom <3<3<3. hope you've been doing well.

also billy + will + drawing is one of my fav hcs and there are a few tiny things more that i wanna write? hopefully i will 🌟

[yikesharringrove]

First thing Billy registered when he woke up, was how fucking hot he was.

Like, just drenched in fucking sweat.

It was gross.

Second thing he registers was that he was not alone in his bed.

And the third thing he registered was that he was not in his bed to begin with.

In fact, he has no fucking clue where he is. And he has no fucking clue who he’s spooned up against.

He shifted as carefully as he could, sliding himself out of the soft bed.

And he’s naked.

And his clothes are all over the floor.

So he had sex last night.

Sex with a boy.

The one thing he promised himself he wouldn’t do after having to leave California.

He fucking swore he’d be good, follow the rules.

And here he was, nearly slipping on a used condom as he hopped into his jeans.

Last night had been that stupid fucking Halloween party.

And Billy remembers the specific moment when he’d decided that thing would be more enjoyable if he didn’t remember any of it.

After that is a total blur of alcohol and, by the looks of things, bad homosexual decisions.

He hightailed it out of the boy’s bedroom. The plain, mostly empty bedroom.

He was hoping for maybe some pictures hung along the hallway. Posed family shots that would give away who Billy shoved his dick into last night.

But there was, nothing.

It was all nondescript art like you’d find in a hotel. Nothing to show an actual family lived here.

It was fucking weird.

Even Billy’s house has pictures. True, Billy think he’s only in about three of ‘em, but nonetheless, he’s there. Present and accounted for.

This poor sucker’s got nothing.

And Billy should’ve gotten a look at him. Should’ve tiptoed around the otherside of the bed to glance at who is such a hot goddamn sleeper. Because there’s someone that knows he’s got a penchant for dick, and Billy can’t have rumors going around. Not after last time.

But, fuck it.

He doesn’t wanna risk waking the kid up. Doesn’t wanna risk having to deal with someone clingy. Some small town queer that thinks they’re going steady just because Billy couldn’t keep it in his pants for one fucking night.

But, one thing’s for damn sure. Whoever he fucked is loaded.

This is the biggest house Billy’s ever set foot in.

And he can’t find the fucking front door.

He was beginning to get anxious. Beginning to feel trapped inside the cold mansion. Felt like he’d condemned himself to a life of-

“Hey.”

Billy whipped around, and his heart nearly dropped out his ass when he saw who was standing, barely dressed, on the staircase.

Steve Harrington.

Billy remembers meeting him.

remembers the sinking feeling in his gut as he realized just how fucking pretty Harrington is.

And apparently, stupid black-out drunk Billy had decided to act on that.

“Hey,” Billy said back.

“You looking for the front door?”

“Yeah. Your stupid big house is like a fucking maze.”

Steve huffed a little laugh, folding those long fucking legs under him to sit on the stairs.

“You probably missed it down the hall. They’re big double doors. The lock’s kinda tricky. You gotta push the door on the left to unlock it and then you’re good.”

“Thanks, man.”

Steve gave him a little two-finger salute.

He was sitting in just his boxers, and the way he was hunched over gave him little tummy rolls. Billy slapped himself before he could think they were cute.

“Do I need to bother threatening you?”

Steve laughed again, his nose scrunching up as he did so.

“C’mon. This ain’t my first time at the rodeo. I can keep a secret.”

“Good. ‘Cause if word gets out-”

“Hargrove, I know how this goes. I’ve been queer in a small town a lot longer than you have.”

And Billy couldn’t deny that.

But the fact that Harrington’s slept with other guys...well. Billy had this town pegged all wrong. Figured any secret queers would be well and truly closeted.

But here they are. Billy shouldn’t’ve doubted ‘em.

Which means he might be able to get regular ass while he’s here.

He shook himself.

This was a one-off. He promised himself he wouldn’t do this anymore.

Steve Harrington would be his swan song.

It’s girls or nothing.

And then Steve stretched his legs out on the stairs below him, and he scratched his belly, and smiled at Billy, and Billy wasn’t leaving. He should be leaving.

“Hey, uh, if you ever wanna do this again, you know. I’m around.”

And then it dawned on Billy.

“Don’t you have a girl?”

And Steve’s face fell. He brought a hand up to scrub at his hair.

“Uh, no. Not after last night.” Steve was looking at his feet, reaching down to poke his knee a few times.

And Billy was going to ask what happened, but Steve looked sad. Looked maybe a little heartbroken. And Billy just doesn’t wanna deal with that. Not for the tightest ass in the world.

“Well, I should get going.”

And Steve looked up at him, giving him a sad little smile.

“Sure. See you around, I guess.”

But Billy didn’t move.

He felt rooted to the spot.

Because if Steve Harrington is gonna be the last guy he fucks, he might as well remember it.

“What are you doing tonight? After school?”

And Steve brightened.

“I’ve got practice until five, but then I’m just here.”

“Basketball practice?”

Steve nodded. Billy grinned.

“I’ll see you there.”

And Billy dear God, was Billy gonna have some fun with him.

Tease him and get him all riled up. Follow him home and pound him through the mattress, still covered in sweat from practice, tasting like salt and egging Billy on.

Oh yeah.

He’s got plans.

Because he’s stuck here, right? And if Steve’s been fucking guys without getting caught, Billy can too, right? And maybe it’s best to stick with one person, contain any possible threats. Just fuck Steve when he wants, right?

Yeah.

Billy’s got plans.

[neonponders]

I have to be an adult today (whatever the hell that means) so this is short but I couldn’t help myself. Based on This Steve with This Billy post for the lovely @lovebillyhargrove 🌹 and @withoneheadlight 🌹

photographer!Steve and model!Billy - boyfriend shenanigans.

💋 💋 💋 💋 💋

Potentially Billy’s favorite thing about Steve - out of many characteristics - was how easily gob smacked he could be.

Billy knew what he looked like.

But still. Seeing Steve just kind of stare in wonder at him for a while never gets old.

He does it today, while Billy’s trying to pay attention to whatever his manager is saying. He can’t help but slide a smirk in Steve’s direction, though: the poor guy standing listlessly with one camera hanging around his neck, and another on a tall tripod next to him.

The manger notices and wraps up what he’s saying concisely. Billy understood his frustration. Billy and Steve working together had proven a 50/50 chance at making million dollar ad campaigns

Or

Just clumsy dates, really.

Billy had been Steve’s entrance into this business - a fact not lost on either of them since various managers and executives threatened reminded them of it whenever photoshoots fell through - but Billy’s second favorite thing about Steve was how he didn’t let that cause a rift between them. If anything, Steve asked for more jobs with Billy, even at the risk of being demoted to a photographer’s assistant or Billy’s personal assistant.

But it kept them together. It allowed Billy a reassurance on international flights that he’d have Steve available to climb into his first class seat whenever Billy’s fear of flying kicked in.

As much as the agencies loathed to admit it, Steve was like a walking insurance policy for one hot-headed Billy Hargrove. If a photographer said something wrong, treated the models rudely, or if he was merely having a bad day, Steve could step in, and Billy eye fucked his boyfriend for hours.

Other models requested Steve. Billy knew that was a big deal for his boyfriend and was proud of him. He could always find Steve on set, either by his brightly colored beanies, or the fluffy hair going without. That had helped Billy feel more at home in this business; he may have opened the door for Steve, but Steve furnished it with friends and loyal connections.

Today Steve yanked the head covering off, already hot under the lights. It was just Billy here, even though he raked a hand through his mane. Billy liked seeing the gleam on his hair. He also enjoyed Steve’s little self-esteem thing about needing his hair styled in the presence of models.

“Ready, pretty boy?”

Steve refocused and stepped behind the tripod. “Yeah. Whenever you are.”

Steve must’ve taken hundreds of photos just in the first half hour. He set it on a steady timer, and moved around the room, changing the lights to warm tones, and then less explosive on the brightness. Billy did his work, tilting himself appropriately to catch the fan’s breeze when Steve pointed it to blow his suit jacket open, or billow through his half-open, black dress shirt.

“Ten minute break,” Steve announced. He was good about breaks. Billy’s manager brought a chilled bottle of water and Steve went through the portfolio paperwork for the shoot. It wasn’t much of a break for him, as he moved the lights and furniture around, but Billy was ready for him.

He sat on the luxurious ottoman, already in his first stance when he peeked at the lack of camera noise. “Steve?”

His boyfriend stood with his shoulders a little contorted so he could examine something going on with the camera hanging from his neck. “Sorry. I...I need another minute.”

Billy relaxed as much as he could so the suit did not wrinkle or collapse in shape. Eventually, though, he noticed Steve crouching over one of his bags for his tools.

Oh boy.

Billy sauntered over, standing over him as he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Can you hold this?” Steve answered instead. He blindly held the camera up, and Billy accepted, along with the explanation, “The lens is uneven and one of the pieces is askew.”

Billy silently thanked him for not wielding fancy terms at him, but upon a closer look at the device, it certainly wasn’t correct. A thin, middle section between the lens and the camera tilted wonkily. He breathed with a small amount of awe, “How did that happen?”

“I don’t know. I think it got bumped during the drive,” Steve sighed, holding a tiny screw driver as he stood up.

“Come here,” Billy nodded toward the set, and Steve came to sit on the floor while using the ottoman as a table. He removed his jacket and wiped his forehead, glancing at the lights before Billy pestered, “What’s the matter?”

“I have to expose the sensor. With the shudder, it’s fine, but with too much light, we might be stuck with the tripod.”

“Can’t we turn off some lights?”

“I need to be able to see. Maybe you could, um, just hold your hands over it? Or hold that umbrella for me?”

Billy detached the umbrella from one of the unused lights and sat on the ottoman, with the umbrella situated on his thighs. As the camera became more exposed, he added his hands for extra shade. Eventually Steve surprised him with, “Are you okay?”

“Hm? I’m fine. We do this all the time.”

“Wasting a lot of time, though,” he exhaled nervously.

“We’re going to Sydney on Friday. That’s locked in, so don’t worry about it.”

“I don’t think blowing one shoot is justified by the promise of another,” Steve managed to giggle. Then he tilted his face up and just...gazed at him. “You look really good.”

Billy smirked softly. “I know.”

Steve’s eyes rolled. “Forgot who I was working with here.”

Billy laughed and saw in his periphery people moving around, other cameras working. This job always had multiple cameras. Hair and makeup stylists capturing their work from afar. His and Steve’s managers locking in behind the scenes shots for Instagram. Another perk of their success: the fanfare material behind the cameras built as much revenue as the actual scheduled photoshoots.

As Steve unscrewed something, Billy saw and heard the clatter of it falling back into place. “That’s good, right?”

Steve sighed a relieved smile up at him. Billy felt ticklish warmth in his chest. “Yeah, that’s good. The screws are probably bent, but I can get new ones before Friday. It’ll work for now.”

Steve put the damn thing back together while Billy returned the umbrella, and resumed his posture on the ottoman. A couple of people manifested around him to touch up his raiment and make sure his shirt was open to cleavage perfection.

“Steve, come here.”

The stylists retreated as his photographer trotted up -

Billy yanked him down for a kiss. And just as quickly pushed him back up to standing. “Go to work, my time is precious.”

“Don’t be a dipshit,” Steve remarked, and pointed the camera right at Billy’s face to make the lights flash in revenge.

Come Friday, Billy showed him something on his phone: the Instagram account his manager operated. Much to both of their amusement and chagrin - because a long day taking pictures was more grueling than most people realized - was a picture behind the magazine editor’s shoulder while he worked at his computer.

The caption read: Impromptu cover. Sometimes candid is better.

The image was Steve on the floor and Billy on the ottoman, the two of them gazing at each other mid-conversation in the set’s warm lighting.

Steve chewed his fruit and yogurt slowly, processing in the airport vip lounge. His hair was in glorious disarray, and Billy’s not much better underneath his ball cap.

“That’s the cover?”

“Seems so.”

“Your manager’s going to steal my job with a phone camera - why am I on the cover?”

“The theme was Warm Encounters,” Billy reminded. “It’s not a secret that we’re together.”

“I’m not styled or anything - ”

“Your hair looks good.”

“I’m wearing the t-shirt I got in Hong Kong. It says BURBUSSY.”

Billy laughed and closed the app. He pushed his leg to rest alongside Steve’s. “Good thing you were turned around. We don’t know if Burberry has a sense of humor.”

[dontcare77ghj]

Breaking The Fourth Wall

Wanda x reader x Vision

Wanda awoke to an empty bed and sunlight blinding her.

"Look, we've all been there, right?" Wanda chuckled as she sat on a chair in Vision's dressing gown. "Letting our fear and anger get the best of us, intentionally expanding the borders of the false world we created." Wanda wondered.

Wanda let out a sigh as she laid in bed at the image of soldiers running in fear, and screaming invaded her mind before pulling the covers over her head.

"Mama, are you coming down soon?" Tommy asked as he and his siblings rushed into her bedroom.

"Mama, our game is freaking out!" Billy exclaimed.

"The systems keep changing!" Luna recalled.

"Is she asleep?" Tommy wondered after their mother stayed quiet.

"Mama's not sleeping, honey," Wanda announced. "She's just resting her eyes." She said from under the covers.

"Kids, what did I say about bothering your Mama?" Y/N asked as she entered the bedroom. "I told you that she's not feeling well."

"But, Mom, my head feels weird. It's, like, really noisy. I don't like it." Billy told Y/N.

"Resting her eyes," Wanda repeated as Y/N pulled Billy in for a hug.

"It's okay, sweetheart. C'mon, kids, Mama's not feeling well. Let's let her rest, and find you something for your head, Billy." Y/N said as she ushered the kids out of the room.

"I feel like an ass," Y/N admitted, sitting in the living room. "I want to take care of Wanda, I do, but at the moment, I'm the only functioning parent in this house. Wanda's bedbound, Vis is MIA, and I've got three kids to look after." Y/N sighed. "They don't need to see her like this. They don't."

"As punishment for my reckless evening, I plan on taking a quarantine-style staycation," Wanda said, back in her striped chair. "A whole day. To myself. That'll show me." She nodded.

Wanda pulled back the covers on her bed to reveal she was still in her Halloween costume, causing Wanda to sigh loudly.

"I got to it first!" Tommy grunted, struggling to pull a controller towards him.

"You always get to it first!" Billy complained, pulling back against his brother's grip.

"Boys." Y/N snapped, moving forward and taking the device out of their hands. "Today is not the day for petty arguments, okay? I have to take care of the three of you and your Mama today, alright. I'm severely under-caffeinated and exhausted, so please, for me, be civil until I've at least had a coffee."

"I'll keep them civil, Mom." Luna piped up from the couch.

"We'll be good, Mom." Billy nodded as Wanda stumbled down the stairs, dressed in one of Y/N's shirts and Vision's dressing gown.

The kids all turned to stare at Wanda in confusion as she blundered into the kitchen.

"Wanda?" Y/N asked as she followed after her wife. "Sweetheart, what are you doing?" She wondered, watching as Wanda gathered items for breakfast.

"Cereal." Wanda simply said as the milk on the counter glitched.

"Why didn't you just ask? I could've brought it to you." Y/N said as Wanda sniffed her cereal.

"Well, I'm up now, so it doesn't matter," Wanda said as the milk turned, a grainy black and white.

"Yeah, I'm not sure what that's about," Wanda commented about the milk. "It's probably just a case of the Mondays. Am I right?" She chuckled.

After the events of last night, SWORD had had to create a temporary base about eight miles outside of Westview.

"Lucky for us, she pumped the breaks." A woman commented as she and Hayward stared at the red energy field. 

"Yeah. I feel very lucky." Hayward chuckled. "What's happening with the broadcast?" He asked her.

"Dead air. The signal's gone." She informed him.

"Make sure the team has everything they need. We launch today." Hayward nodded.

"Yes, sir."

Back inside the Hex, Vision was just beginning to wake up. Though, to his surprise, he was not waking up in his bed at home. 

He was waking up on a field, a field where a circus had set itself up around him.

Vision stopped in confusion as clowns, mimes and other circus folk walked around him.

What happened last night? Vision wondered, watching the milling people.

And then suddenly, it hit him. The memories of the night before, the pain he felt before collapsing and blacking out.

"You're the new clown?" A man in a leotard demanded as he approached Vision. "At least you're already in makeup." He sighed. "You're late for rehearsal with the escape artist. Come on." The man said, gesturing his head to the left before walking away.

Vision stared after the man in confusion before turning in the direction he nodded.

There stood a dark-haired woman, wrapped in chains. A woman Vision remembered from last night.

"Yeah, I'm not great at this gig, I gotta be honest." She admitted with a sigh. "It doesn't really speak to my skill set. I put in for the bearded lady, but this alabaster complexion wasn't fooling anyone."

As Vision's memory became more comprehensible, he began to stare at the woman quite intensely.

"Can I help you, creeper?" The woman asked, raising a brow at Vision.

"You don't remember me from last night?" Vision asked, causing the woman's eyes to widen. "We locked eyes. There was an unspoken understanding."

"Um, hard pass." She said, pulling the chains from her body before she began to walk away.

"No, wait. Wait up!" Vision called, rushing after her. 

"Y/N, have you seen Vis?" Wanda asked, shoveling a spoonful of sugary snaps into her mouth.

"Not since last night," Y/N told her. "I haven't heard from him this morning. I'm worried about him."

"Hm." Wanda hummed before walking into the living room. "Have you seen your Dad?" She asked the kids.

"No." Tommy shook his head, engrossed in the video game before him.

"Do you wanna go look for him?" Billy asked, turning away from the game as Luna put her book down.

"Well, if he doesn't want to be here, there's nothing I can do about it." Wanda shrugged, grabbing the TV remote and changing the channel.

"Mama's kidding, guys," Y/N said, causing Wanda to snort. "Your Dad's just busy, that's all."

"Mama, what did Uncle Pietro mean about re-killing Dad?" Luna asked, biting her lower lip in worry.

"Actually, what did he mean, sweetheart?" Y/N asked, turning to her wife.

"He meant nothing." Wanda scoffed. "And don't believe a word that man said. He is not your uncle." She told the three children.

"Well, then, who is he?" Tommy wondered.

"Here's the thing, guys. I'm your Mama, and as such, you were counting on me to have all the answers, right?" Wanda asked, causing the kids to nod. "Well, I don't. I have no answers. Zip. Zero. Zilch. Nada. Niente." She laughed as the kids stared at her and their other mother worriedly. "I'm starting to believe that everything is meaningless. You're welcome to draw your own conclusions, but that's just where I'm at."

"Jesus fucking Christ." Y/N sighed, pressing her head into her hands.

"So maybe I went a little too dark there, but they'll be fine. Vision is made of Vibranium. And have you met my wife? The kids literally inherited tough skin."

"Okay, kids, why don't you go grab your jackets for me, okay?" Y/N asked, ushering the kids out of the living room as Wanda collapsed onto the couch. "Okay, we're going to give you some me-time. I'm taking the kids to the park, Wand."

"Are you serious?" Wanda asked, looking up at Y/N with wide eyes.

"Yes, you need a break," Y/N told her. "I don't know what last night was, and I certainly don't know what's going on this morning, but you need some time to yourself."

"I ever tell you that I love you?" Wanda asked, causing Y/N to smirk.

"Not this morning." She told her.

"I love you." Wanda sighed, leaning up to kiss Y/N as the kids re-entered the living room.

"I love you too," Y/N said as she pulled away. "Now, who's ready to go to the park?" Y/N clapped, turning to the kids, a convincing fake grin on her face.

"But who's going to stay and look after Mama?" Billy asked, looking at Wanda in concern.

"Guys, I'll be fine," Wanda promised. "Go. Have fun at the park." She shooed the four out the front door. 

When the door shut behind her family, Wanda was left alone.

And the silence of the house brought a smile to her face.

Wanda settled back into the couch, her bowl of cereal on her lap, as she turned her attention to the TV.

The TV wasn't able to hold her attention for long as her head snapped to the side to see a house plant glitching.

And then the fireplace changed.

A chair followed, and then the TV altered.

Wanda put her bowl of cereal on the table before she forced the living room to change back to its modern setting.

"I'm fine. I'm fine, I'm fine." Wanda chuckled. "I'm fine. I'm fine." She promised reassuringly. "I'm fine."

"Darcy made it through that last firewall all right," Jimmy reported. He and Monica had been driving all night, too afraid Wanda's Hex would catch them if they even slowed down.

"What'd she find?" Monica asked, glancing over at the man before turning back to the road.

"R and D reports. All on the same project. Code name, Cataract." Jimmy informed her. "Hayward wasn't decommissioning Vision. He was trying to bring him back online. And nothing worked until,"

"Wanda stole Vision's body." Monica nodded, the pieces beginning to fit together. 

"That's why he was so focused on tracking Vision inside the Hex." Jimmy realized.

"Hayward wants his sentient weapon back," Monica murmured.

"Someone has to tell Wanda," Jimmy said, causing Monica to nod. 

"Look. There they are." Monica grinned as she and Jimmy got closer to several cars and a large metal storage container.

She and Jimmy quickly got out of the car and made a beeline for a woman already walking their way.

"Major Goodner." Monica grinned.

"Captain Rambeau." The woman smiled.

"This is Agent Woo." Monica introduced as Jimmy reached a hand out.

"Nice to meet you." Major Goodner nodded, shaking Jimmy's hand firmly.

"Thank you so much for coming. My mother would appreciate your loyalty." Monica said, taking the Major's hand in her own.

"She's not the only one we're loyal to, Captain," Goodner told Monica. "Let me show you what we brought you." She said before leading the pair over to the tent. 

At Goodner's nod, a six-wheeled vehicle rolled out of the container.

"Did we get your specs right?" Goodner asked as Monica took several steps forward.

"She's perfect," Monica murmured, staring at the vehicle in awe.

"Hello, excuse me? You tried to help me." Vision said as he rushed after the dark-haired woman.

"Doubtful." She scoffed. "I'm notoriously self-involved." She said, continuing to walk away from Vision.

"No. No. No. Please, just hear me out." Vision begged, rushing in front of the woman, causing her to stop. "All right. I believe that you were a part of a team monitoring a supernatural anomaly. And now, well, you're in it." He said, causing the woman to sigh heavily.

"Fine. I'll go out with you, but I'm ordering the lobster." She said before attempting to walk away.

Vision let out a heavy sigh before a plan came to mind.

"Oh no, look! That mime! His tray is too heavy!" Vision gasped, causing the woman to spin and face said mime.

"Oh, your bad back!" She groaned before Vision pressed his hands to her temples. "Oh! Ooh, okay. Whoa!" Darcy gasped as the wall broke.

"Awake?" Vision asked, holding his hands out in case the woman toppled over

"Uh, yeah?"

"All right?" Vision confirmed.

"Ooh. Oh, hello, self. You know, part of me secretly wanted a guest spot on the show, but seriously? That sucked." Darcy admitted.

"Look, uh, what is your name? Your real name?" Vision demanded of her.

"Darcy Lewis." 

"Dr. Darcy Lewis." Vision sighed in relief. "I intercepted a communication regarding your work." He recalled.

"Hey, the lions just got off stage. You're up." A man in a leotard told the two, who promptly ignored him.

"Dr. Lewis, I have questions," Vision told her.

"I have answers." She nodded.

"Brilliant. I believe it's time we take our leave." Vision said, noting the leotard-clad man approaching them.

"You're right, but first, we need him," Darcy said, pointing to a man who was throwing knives at a board.

Throwing knives at a board with an abnormal accuracy rate.

"Him? Are you sure?" Vision wondered.

"Yes. Trust me, we need him. Awake." Darcy told him.

"Alright." Vision nodded before he and Darcy rushed over to the blonde man.

The man snapped around when the two approached, but before he could say a word, Vision pressed his hands to the man's temples and broke the wall.

"Oh, shit." The man grunted, dropping his knives to the ground. "I never wanted to be back in the circus." He sighed, rubbing his temples before looking up. "It's good to see you, Darcy. And you too, Vision."

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Vision wondered, cocking his head to the side.

"You do. You tried to choke me out once." He nodded. "I'm also your father-in-law. Clint Barton." He announced.

"We can catch you up on the road," Darcy said, nodding over to a funnel cake truck.

"I said you two are up." The leotard man said, appearing behind Vision and Darcy.

"No, I'm so sorry. But the three of us have a prior engagement." Vision apologized.

"They're not going anywhere." The man said, grabbing Darcy's arm. 

But Darcy wasn't having any of it and quickly turned around and punched him in the face.

"Oh no!" Vision hissed.

"My nose!" The man cried from the ground as Darcy high-fived Clint.

"Sorry." Darcy shrugged as the three began to run towards the van.

"Come on."

"Excuse me!"

"Out of the way."

"Where do you think you're going? Get back here!" The leotard-clad man yelled before the three loaded themselves into the van.

"To your house, I assume?" Darcy asked as Clint searched the car for the keys.

"Dr. Lewis, my questions, are my children safe?" Vision demanded.

"That I don't know."

"Are my wife's safe?"

"I don't know."

"And who is that imposter Pietro?"

"Beats me."

"Ah-ha! Let's get moving." Clint cheered, having found the keys.

"Excellent." Vision grinned. As Clint started the car, there was a second that Vision allowed himself to relax in his chair before there was a pounding at the window that caused him to yell.

"Get out of there!" The man ordered.

"Sorry, can't hear you." Vision said apologetically.

"What?"

"Drive!" Vision exclaimed, turning towards Clint. "I'm so sorry. We were double-booked by the agents."

"You have to be on stage."

"Never again, pal," Clint yelled out his open window.

"Step on it, Clint!" Darcy shouted.

"What are you doing?"

"Can't hear you." 

"You get back here! I need you! We need you!" The leotard man yelled, but it was fruitless.

The van had left the campground and was speeding towards Wanda and Y/N.

Y/N let out a sigh as she reached Vision's voicemail once more.

"Vis, please call me back. I need to know that you're okay and that you're safe. I need you, Vis, I need you now. I'm with the kids at the park. Something's wrong with Wanda, and I couldn't let them see her like that. Please, just. Please, just call me back. I love you." Y/N said before turning her phone off and turning her gaze back to her playing children.

"Y/N?" 

At the call of her name, Y/N turned around to see Agnes approaching the bench she sat on. 

"I thought that was you, hon." Agnes grinned, taking a seat beside her.

"Agnes, hi." Y/N gave Agnes a weak smile. "Were you out on a walk?"

"No, not today, hon. I actually went to your house." Agnes admitted. "I talked Wanda out of cutting her own bangs before she mentioned you and the kids were here."

"God, I shouldn't have left her alone." Y/N sighed, pressing her face into her hands.

"No, you did the right thing. No need to make the kids see their mother like that." Agnes promised. "You look like you need a break, Y/N. Say, why don't you bring the kids over to my house?" Agnes suggested.

"Oh, Agnes, are you sure?"

"Of course! Ralph just finished renovating the rumpus room, and the kids can play down there with Senor Scratchy, and we have some adult conversation." She told you. 

"That sounds great, Agnes." Y/N sighed happily. "Give me a second to round up the kids, and we can get going." She said as she stood.

"I'll help." Agnes offered. "I'll bluster Aunty Agnes' house of fun so much they'll never want to leave."

While Y/N had been at the park with the kids, Wanda had been enjoying the quiet of the house.

She'd been able to turn off her brain as she ate her cereal and mindlessly watched the TV. 

When her bowl was finished, Wanda rose from the couch and made her way towards the kitchen.

But it was when she neared the kitchen it started again.

The kitchen table glitched, reverting in style.

The light fixture was next, and the curtains soon followed.

And then the wallpaper to peel upwards, and the walls glitched between walls and windows.

The stairs flared, and Wanda snapped around when she heard the stork which had reappeared. 

"I don't understand what's happening." Wanda sighed, staring blankly at a wall. "Why it's all falling apart and why I can't fix it." She elaborated. 

"Do you think maybe this is what you deserve?"

"What?" Wanda asked, staring across from her in confusion. "You're not supposed to talk."

At Agnes' house, Agnes brought out a tray of snacks into the living room, where the kids sat playing with Senor Scratchy. Y/N was sitting in the kitchen, clutching a mug in her hands like it was her lifeline.

"Sweets for the sweets!" Agnes cooed, placing the tray on the table. "Penny, for your thoughts?" She asked Billy, who was gently patting her rabbit.

"I like it here," Billy told the woman.

"Oh, good. Is it because Senor Scratchy is such a good listener?" Agnes wondered.

"No. It's because it's quiet." Billy said before looking up at the woman. "You're quiet, Agnes. On the inside." He told her.

"And your colors are brighter." Luna piped up. "Brighter than the rest of the towns." She added in a low murmur.

"Do you think our Mama is okay?" Tommy asked their neighbor.

"Oh, for sure!" Agnes assured him. "You don't have to worry about your mom. She can do anything. She's a supermom!" She promised with a chuckle.

"Ralph says I sugarcoat things, but you try telling a ten-year-old that their mother is cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs." Agnes shook her head with a sigh.

"Now, why don't you three go play in the basement while I talk with your Mom?" Agnes suggested.

The three kids gave her a nod before picking up Senor Scratchy and walking down the basement steps.

"How are you feeling now, hon?" Agnes asked as she re-entered the kitchen.

"Guilty, tired, like a crappy wife and mother." Y/N sighed, taking a long sip of her drink. 

"Oh, that's not true, hon. You're a great wife. And a fantastic mother." Agnes promised, standing across from Y/N at the island.

"I left my wife during her breakdown, I don't know where Vision is, and I'm pretty sure our kids are borderline traumatized from watching Wanda this morning." Y/N shook her head. 

"Oh, honey, I have seen trauma. Your kids are just fine." Agnes promised. "And you made the best decision you could in the moment. The kids didn't need to see their mother like that." 

"I know. But I'm just so tired," Y/N told her. "I'm so, so, tired." She yawned as her eyelids began to grow heavier and heavier by the second.

"We're all set, Captain." Major Goodner said as Monica was safely secured into her suit.

"Thank you." She nodded before turning back to the glowing red force field.

"Darcy's not here to give her stamp of approval," Jimmy said as he walked over to the woman.

"I know. Darcy's in there, and I'm gonna go get her out." Monica said, causing Jimmy to smile. "This is our last shot, Jimmy." She added before her helmet was secured.

"Godspeed, Captain." Jimmy nodded at her.

Monica returned the nod before taking a breath to steel herself and then walking over to the vehicle.

"How much faith do you have in this thing?" Jimmy asked Goodner.

"It's our most heavily-armored space rover. She's gonna sail right through. Unharmed." Goodner assured the man before pulling on her headset. "Capcom, check," Goodner asked after watching Monica strap herself in.

"Good, check," Monica said, clicking the vehicle on.

"On your order, Captain," Goodner told Monica.

"Moving out."

"Contact in five, four, three, two, one." Goodner counted down as the vehicle raced towards the Hex.

But instead of Monica cruising through the Hex on one, the vehicle simply crashed into the barrier.

"What happened to sailing right through?" Jimmy demanded.

"The density is matching her," Goodner said, brows furrowing in confusion.

"I'm close. It's gonna give!" Monica exclaimed as she tried to push through the boundary.

"The structural integrity is failing. It's disintegrating." Goodner said, reading from the screen.

"No, it's being rewritten." Jimmy realized before picking up a walkie-talkie. "Monica, get out of there! Do you copy, Monica? Get out of there!" Jimmy demanded as Monica struggled to pull herself out of the changing car.

Before the entire vehicle could change completely, Monica managed to burst her way out of the top. 

Tumbling to the ground below with a heavy thud.

"Get a medevac, now!" Jimmy yelled as he, and several of the soldiers, began to run towards Monica. 

As Monica rose to her feet, she had to watch in shock as the vehicle was spat out of the Hex and launched through the air.

"Watch out!" Jimmy yelled, causing the agents to halt in their tracks and narrowly avoid being hit by the car.

Monica stared at the wreck of what she thought to be her only way back into Westview in disappointment. She continued to stare at it before an idea came to her mind.

"No, no," Jimmy murmured, watching Monica turn to the Hex with new purpose.

"I can get through!" She promised, pulling her helmet off and throwing it to the ground.

"Monica! No!" Jimmy yelled as Monica sprinted towards the Hex until her hands met the barrier.

Monica couldn't remember the first time she crossed through the barrier.

And there was a part of her that was grateful for that small mercy, but she wished she was better prepared for the pain she felt now. 

As Monica forced her way through the barrier, memories of her past, moments she'd rather repress, began to resurface

It almost felt like she was breaking as Monica pushed her way further through the barrier. 

Monica was being torn apart, and it took everything in her to continue pushing and keep Geraldine at bay.

But finally, finally, Monica was able to dive onto the other side, into Westview.

But when Monica made it into Westview, something was different. Something had changed in her.

Monica could see the energy all around her.

But Monica didn't have time to dwell on what was happening to her.

She needed to get to Wanda.

"So, Wanda killed me?" Vision asked slowly. 

"Yes. But not because she wanted to. You asked her to do it." Clint clarified.

"Why would I have done that?" Vision wondered.

"To save half the universe," Clint told him, a frown appearing on his face at the memory.

"Did it work?"

"For a second, but Thanos, the bad guy, rewound time and killed you himself," Clint said.

"So in summation, I died, came back and died again." Vision nodded.

"Yeah, pretty much." Darcy piped up from the back of the truck.

"And both Wanda and Y/N had to watch. Both times." Clint added, slowing the car down to a stop.

"Oh man, another red light? We're in the sticks. This is overkill." Darcy groaned.

"I believe, I think that Wanda is creating these impediments to stop me returning home." Vision said, sitting in a chair outside the truck.

"Also, it never rains in Westview, right?" Darcy wondered, staring at the droplets on the windshield.

"Not unless Y/N is making it happen," Clint said as the light flicked green. 

The car's occupants let out a happy sigh, and the truck began to move once more before coming to a sudden halt.

Men in trucks had pulled up directly in front of their van and started working on the street lights, causing everyone to sigh heavily.

"I'm not amused." Vision shook his head.

"Great, just take your time, fellas." Darcy groaned, leaning back into her chair.

"So if I am to understand correctly, my original code dates back to an AI called JARVIS? But my corporeal form was born of Ultron's plan for global genocide?" Vision asked, seeking clarification.

"Yeah, it was a hell of a time." Clint shook his head.

"Then, what am I now?" Vision asked.

"You're Vision." Clint shrugged, causing Darcy to sigh.

"Look, I'm more of a STEM type of lady, so I thought Wanda just flipped a switch on your head and brought you back to life." She told him.

"But that doesn't explain why you can't leave the Hex." Clint cut in.

"But what I do know is that I've been watching the show for the past week, and the love you three have is real," Darcy told Vision with a genuine smile.

"It's always been real," Clint added. "I've always known it. I wasn't always there to see it, but I saw enough to know that you have always loved one another. That the three of you belong with together." He told his son-in-law.

Wanda had finally forced herself to get dressed and felt a lot better than she had earlier when she heard a call that ruined her day.

"Wanda? Wanda!" Monica yelled, forcing her way into Wanda's home.

"What are you doing?" Wanda gasped, staring at the woman in shock.

"Wanda,"

"How did you get in here?" Wanda asked, now looking the woman over in anger.

"Listen to me. This whole thing is about Vision." Monica started.

"Get out of my house," Wanda demanded, glaring at Monica with a fire in her eyes.

"Hayward was trying to bring him,"

"Don't talk to me about that! Don't talk about my family! I don't wanna hear about it!" Wanda snapped, using her magic to push Monica out of her house. "The drones, the missiles, Pietro?" Wanda demanded, holding Monica in the air for all the neighborhood to see.

"No, wait, Pietro, that wasn't us." Monica stammered.

"All you do is lie!" Wanda exclaimed before throwing Monica to the ground. 

But Monica did not crumple to the ground. Monica stopped her descent and stared up at Wanda with electric blue eyes.

"The only lies I've told are the ones you put in my mouth," Monica said, taking small steps closer to the witch.

"Careful what you say to me," Wanda warned, creating a ball of red energy by her side.

"Do it then. Take me out." Monica shrugged. "See, see? This is where you and Hayward differ. He's gonna burn Westview to the ground just to get what he wants. Don't let him make you the villain." Monica pleaded with her once friend.

"Maybe I already am." Wanda swallowed harshly.

"I'm not afraid of you, Wanda. I lost the person closest to me, too. I get being scared. I know that feeling. The worst thing I can think of has already happened to me, and I can't change it. I can't undo it. I can't control this pain anymore! And I don't think I want to because it's my truth." Monica admitted. "Wanda, you have to," 

"Young lady, I think you have overstayed your welcome," Agnes announced, appearing beside Wanda out of nowhere. "Poor Wanda has been through enough," Agnes said, putting an arm around Wanda.

"This doesn't concern you," Monica told Agnes. "Wanda,"

"Run along, dear." Agnes dismissed Monica, already pulling Wanda away from her.

"Wanda, you have to take it down," Monica begged as the two started to walk away.

"No." Wanda snapped, turning around fiercely. "Don't make me hurt you."

"All right."

"Okay, let's wrap it up."

"Fucking finally." Clint sighed as the road before them began to clear of workers.

Just as Clint began to drive again, he was forced to stop by a woman walking into the middle of the road with a sign.

"Oh, come on!" Clint snapped.

"Come on, kids," Darcy whined, watching as a large group of children began to cross the road.

"Kids?"

"What's next, puppies?"

"I had no idea how much Wanda had endured before coming to Westview. The same for Y/N. I've had no idea how much the three of us have been through. Though I can't remember it." Vision mused. "For me, it feels like it happened to someone else, you know? But for Wanda and for Y/N, it was mere weeks ago." He shook his head. "What am I doing here, sitting, talking to you when I should be with them. This is absurd. I need to get to my wives. I need to go home."

"You always stop for dogs, Lewis, and that's final," Clint said before Vision phased out of the top of the van.

Flying away from them.

"So we'll just meet you there, then?" Clint yelled.

"Was he always like this?" Darcy wondered.

"Oh, here. Would you care for a cup of tea, dear?" Agnes asked, leading Wanda into her home.

"Sure. Thank you, Agnes."

"Okay, sit down. Be right back with that." Agnes promised, sitting Wanda down on the couch.

Wanda let out a sigh as she was left alone in Agnes' living room. 

As Wanda looked around her friend's home, she noticed things.

Three plates with sandwiches on them, three glasses of chocolate milk, a coffee cup, and a locket Wanda knew belonged to Y/N.

"Agnes?"

"Hm?"

"Are Y/N and the kids here?" Wanda asked, picking the locket up and holding it between her fingers.

"Oh, yes. I found them at the park and invited them here." Agnes responded.

"Where are they then? Where are the kids and Y/N?"

"Oh, I think they went down to the basement," Agnes told her. 

Without a word, Wanda rose from the couch and walked towards the basement door.

"Boys? Luna? Y/N?" Wanda called, walking down the stairs and further into the basement.

Much to Wanda's surprise, when she rounded the corner, she saw a doorway covered in thick vines.

Wanda called her family's names into the doorway, and when no one responded, she continued to walk forward.

At the end of the hallway, she found a small room. It, too, was decorated with vines, along with strange symbols and other items of intrigue.

One that particularly caught her eye was a glowing book. 

Wanda would have moved closer to the book but was distracted by the sound of footsteps.

"Wanda, Wanda. You didn't think you were the only magical girl in town, did you?" Agnes wondered, now standing across from her with Senor Scratchy in her arms. 

As Wanda stared at Agnes in confusion, Agnes raised a hand and caused the door to slam shut in a purple glow. 

"The name's Agatha Harkness. Lovely to finally meet you, dear." Agnes, Agatha, grinned before her eyes flashed a vibrant purple.

And with that, Agnes entered Wanda's mind and showed her who she really was.

Taglist will be open throughout the entire series

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[harrin-king]

prompt: pre-Harringrove. Steve inadvertently sees how Neil treats Billy after a bb game or dropping off Max or something. Billy thinks Steve is going to use info against him. Steve gains his trust somehow.

Warnings for parental abuse of minors and for homophobic language (specifically the f-slur). 

It’s the first game Steve’s been cleared to play in since that night and he’s fucking exhausted. He’s out of shape from the practices he’s missed, and he still can’t breathe quite right, like his nose healed wrong or something. 

It was obvious to anyone watching, too. He played like shit and Billy didn’t pick up the slack like Steve thought he would. No. He just kept shooting grimaces at Steve, nervous glances at the stands, a feral narrowing of his eyes at anyone who came near him, teammates and opposition alike. 

Destroying Steve’s face and Hawkin’s chances to go to the championships, all in a few weeks. Billy was something, alright. 

Steve rested his beat-up, tired frame against the brick outside the gym, tucked into the same alleyway where he stood when Nancy made clear, for the second time in 24 hours, that she didn’t love him. 

He tries to catch his breath, pours the remnants of his water bottle over his face, swipes his hands over his eyes. Breathe in. Breathe out. 

There’s footsteps outside of Steve’s alcove, voices too. The rest of the team must be done in the locker room. It doesn’t matter- whoever is walking by will breeze right past him in the dark. 

But it’s not the rest of the team, there’s only one voice, only two sets of feet walking by. 

“You really are pathetic, you know that?” Steve can see the speaker, a mustached man, but not much else. Whoever is on the receiving end of this comment doesn’t respond, making it impossible for Steve to guess which of his teammates is getting chewed out. 

“Honestly. You were shit at baseball, now you’re shit at basketball. Your sister can play basketball. Gary’s kid from back home could play basketball and his kid was a fucking faggot. You think that reflects well on me? On our family?”

The second voice speaks up. “Not my sister.” 

Billy. 

There’s the sickening sound of a mass of a body hitting brick, the impact of a skull soon after. 

“That’s what you’re choosing to correct me on? Don’t tell me my son is a faggot too.” 

Steve’s entire body may still hurt from Billy’s fists, but it’s taking every ounce of his will to not put a stop to what he’s overhearing, to not shove this man away from his son. 

“No, sir.” Billy’s voice is so quiet, so- so broken, that Steve feels stunned. There’s no bravado, no confidence. There’s just fear, numbness to what’s occurring, an indication that this has happened before and it will happen again. 

“So I raised a faggot and a liar.” There’s one more blow, a kick maybe. 

“You can walk home. I’m driving Susan and Maxine now.” A pause. “And the door will be locked by the time you get back.” 

Billy’s father walks away. After a few moments of sickening silence, there’s a gasp of breath that morphs into a sob.

It occurs to Steve that he should do something. Leave so that Billy can save face. Run to Billy to comfort him. 

Call Hopper so that this never happens again. 

But before Steve can make the choice, Billy’s body drags itself into Steve’s alley. 

With his head down, tucked to his chest, Billy takes a few more gasping breaths. It dawns on Steve that Billy’s crying. 

“Um,” Steve clears his throat.

Billy’s head whips up, causing him to wince in pain, and then his face drains of blood. He rushes to stand. 

“Harrington. What the fuck are you doing here?”

Hiding in an alley to catch my breath because I think you’ve permanently destroyed my nose. 

“Just. Decompressing?” 

Fury overtakes Billy’s face, then fear. It looks so foreign on him, so unlike Billy Hargrove, that Steve wants to throw up. “Don’t you dare tell anyone, Harrington. Don’t you fucking dare.” 

Steve’s taken aback. “Wha-”

“I swear, Harrington.” Billy’s closer now, getting in Steve’s face. “You tell anyone what just happened, what you saw, what you-” he grimaces. “-heard. I’ll make breaking a plate over your head feel like a picnic.” 

Steve just blinks at him. He doesn’t feel threatened, just concerned. Just desperate to help, to fix this. “Why would I tell anyone?” 

Billy laughs, even though Steve can tell it’s hurting his head to do so. “Don’t play dumb. You have every reason to hate me. Whatever petty revenge plot is going through your head, just forget about it.” 

Steve must look unconvinced because the cruel laugh slips from Billy’s face, something resembling desperation replacing it. “Please, Steve.”

This use of his name jolts him from his silence. “I’m not going to. I- I know what that’s like, shitty fathers. I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t do that.” 

Billy still looks wary. 

“Last year. Jonathan Byers beat the shit out of me. When my dad saw, he… he was really upset. With me, though, not with Jonathan. Called me a pussy, a… a fag for getting beat by someone like Byers. He didn’t give a fuck that I was hurt.”

Billy raises an eyebrow, though Steve can’t decipher it’s meaning, so he presses on. “So, there. Now you know some shitty thing that my dad did to me. And that I got the shit beat out of me by Jonathan of all people. Now I can’t tell anyone about what just happened to you, cause you can double back, yeah?” 

Finally, Billy looks up at him, making eye contact for the first time since they’ve been talking. He gives a sad smile. “Sure, pretty boy. But at least when your dad said it, it wasn’t true.” 

Confusion runs through Steve, then realization. Billy is-

Oh. 

Steve thinks about the way Billy spoke to him in the showers, the antagonistic way he’d goad on him in basketball. Am I dreaming, or is that you Harrington? 

He thinks about sleepovers with Tommy, limbs tangling a little too close, fingers and thighs brushing when they shouldn’t. 

He thinks about Billy’s eyes, so blue, like an ocean he’s never seen. He thinks about how seeing pain in those eyes made him hurt too. Yeah, it’s me. Don’t cream your pants. 

“Oh, I don’t know about that, Hargrove.” 

Billy looks up at him, bewildered. 

“Come on, I’ll drive you home. We can stop for a burger, if you want. That game was fuckin’ brutal.” 

Billy laughs and Steve thinks he sees Billy’s real smile for the first time. “Yeah. Fuckin’ brutal.”

[cupidsintern]

wyd?

modern au, established relationship, i think nancy's gay

Steve’s on TikTok when the text comes in. He’s doing better lately, good enough that he can get baked by himself and not worry about spiraling. Instead he made a peanut butter marshmallow sandwich and listened to his most recent playlist all the way through like eight times and texted Robin for a while- she’s visiting family, lots of ‘Steve pls come rescue me pls ’- and now he’s on TikTok.

It’s not late-late. But it’s not early. And he knows Nancy and Jonathan are having issues- he heard about it from the kids who don’t get that gossip is not helpful to feelings- but he didn't know they went on a break. Until he gets the text.

10:46pm - 1 New Notification

Nancy Wheeler: Hey

Typing…

Nancy Wheeler: Haven't talked in a while. How are you?

Steve clicks the notif bar. He stares at the text. It’s not like he never talks to Nancy. She’s just not Baby <3 in his phone anymore. Hasn't been for a while. He used to wonder what Jonathan put her as in his phone.

Steve can scroll up to see previous texts- Hey i had a doctors appointment during third did you get the homework outline? And Lucas left his water bottle at our house! Mike has it with him

And, more recently: Happy Birthday! Hope it's a good one :)

But this feels different. This singular ‘hey’ in its own grey bubble kind of puts Steve on edge. He doesn't respond right away, figures he should text Robin to ask if he’s just being paranoid first but- shit she went to sleep didn't she. And while he’s typing out a “Hey when you wake up” message to Robin he gets another notif.

Nancy Wheeler: Jonathan and I are on a break

Then,

Nancy Wheeler: Sorry, I probably shouldn't be texting you haha. Just wanted some company i guess

Steve feels a hot flash of anger. Rolling in his stomach like lava. Jesus he’s too high to be this angry.

He picks up his phone again.

Types out “fuck you” and deletes it and then “thats understandable but maybe you should text one of your other friends” and then deletes it and then types out “why are you texting me we're not friends" and then deletes it and then-

Clicks back, scrolls down, and texts Billy.

You: R u still awake?

Steve gets a response within seconds.

Billy <3: aw do u miss me or smth?

Billy <3: gay

That makes Steve smile. Makes the anger cool down considerably, and he sits up a bit in bed.

You: Yes but also

You: Nancy texted me?

Billy <3: about what

Billy <3: about how she broke up with Jonathan?

You: H o w do you already know that

Billy <3: i know everything. Why’d she text you??

Steve gets another notif from Nancy. He doesn't want to open it.

Luckily, he doesn't have to right away. Billy calls him.

“No one’s home.” Is Billy's opener. “Speak freely.”

“Good evening to you too.” Steve says, relieved to have the sound of Billy’s voice to lean into.

“So what does Wheeler want?”

Steve’s thumb hesitates over the notif bar.

“She said her and Jonathan are on a break and she ‘wants company.’”

“Wow.” Steve can hear poorly concealed jealousy in Billy’s words. “That’s. Wow.”

“Don’t be j-”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Oookay.” Steve laughs a little. He still hasn't opened Nancy’s text.

“Are you going to respond?”

“No fucking way, man-” Steve starts, then another text.

Unread message: I need someone to talk to. I don’t know who else I could ask.

Steve’s brow furrows.

“What happened?” Comes Billy’s voice.

“She, uh.” Steve opens the chat finally. “Hang on.”

You: Hey

You: Seems like you're in a tough spot. Not sure I’m the right guy. Maybe you could talk about it with a closer friend?

Nancy: That’s just it.

Nancy: I don’t have any friends.

Nancy: I have no one else. Johnathon was the last person left I was close with and i fucking blew it. I have no idea what to do i'm lost and confused and i just really really could use someone to talk to.

Typing...

Nancy: Please

“Babe?” Billy again. “Yeah,” Steve exhales. “Nancy, uh. Sounds pretty bad actually.”

“She reeling you in with that act?”

“I don’t think it’s an act, Bills.” Steve sits up straighter. “Something’s wrong.”

He’s typing out a vague enough response when the next text comes in.

Nancy: I think I'm gay

Then-

Nancy: Can I call you?

I think I’m gay.

That’s. Okay. That’s… something. Something that kind of makes sense now that Steve thinks about it, connects a lot of dots Steve didn't know were floating around but.

Jesus, Nancy must be having a heart attack.

“Billy, I have to call you back.” Steve says, then realizes the kind of push back he’s going to get on that.

“Call me back?” High and mighty already. “You can't just ditch me with a ‘call you back’ when your ex is actively weedling her way-”

“She’s not weedling. She’s not doing well and she has no other friends.” Silence. “Please don��t pout-”

“I’m not pouting.”

“Aw,” Steve leans his head into the receiver a little. “If I say you look cute when you pout, will that hurt or help my case?”

“Hurt.”

“Ok, I promise I’ll call you back right after I talk to her.”

“You fucking better.”

Steve says “I love you” before he gets off the phone and is medium relieved to hear Billy say it back.

Steve calls Nancy. She takes a while to pick up. When she does, he can tell she’s been crying.

“You didn’t have to call.” Is the first thing she says. She sniffs right at the end.

“Seemed like you were having. A rough night.” Steve says. Her text hasn't fully sunk in, he’s thinking about all the times she called him crying. How they got more frequent right before the end.

“I shouldn't have bothered you, I’m sorry, you can go.” Nancy’s voice builds a little. She sounds frantic.

Steve can’t really feel soft feelings about Nancy cause all of them just piss him off or ice his blood but. He’s worried. “No, no it’s-” Then Steve hears the background noise. “Dude, are you driving?”

“I- w- yeah.” Nancy sounds a little defensive.

“Oh my god.”

“I just needed to clear my head! I know I shouldn’t have called it just…”

Steve steeled himself for the words he knew were about to come out of his mouth. No matter how much of a hothead Steve could be (not as much as Billy but still), he was still a total pushover about shit like this. “Do you. Want to come over?” Steve asked stiltedly. “If you're, you know, already driving around.”

Nancy sounded relieved when she said yes.

When Steve got outside to meet Nancy’s mom’s car’s headlights, it was raining.

“Hey,” was the first thing he said when she walked up.

Looking at Nancy doesn't do much to Steve anymore. Not the way it used to. Not the way looking at Billy does now.

Looking at Billy feels how Steve assumes people in the way-back-when felt when color TV was invented.

Nancy looks as washed out as Steve thinks she feels.

“Hi.”

“You wanna come in?”

Nancy hesitates. “I don’t. Want to impose.”

“It’s raining, Nance.”

She looks surprised, like she didn't notice. “Oh.” then. “Okay.”

Steve steps back as Nancy walks onto the smooth tile right in front of the front door. It’s quiet enough after the door closes Steve thinks he can hear her hair dripping onto the ground.

“So,” Steve says after a bit. “Did you-”

“I’m sorry.” Nancy says suddenly. But it’s not the panicked little “sorry’s” from earlier, it’s a single, earnest one.

“For what?” “Everything.” More tears are streaming down her cheeks now. “I know I shouldn't have bothered you, I didn’t- I wasn’t a good girlfriend. Or a good friend. I just. I thought maybe I would know who I was if someone else did, but I didn't. And I don’t have anyone else, and I remember when- when you told me you were bi when we were dating and I was weird about it but now i think I was just jealous- because- bec-” Nancy cut herself off, unable to keep going with the tears closing up her throat.

Steve swallowed pretty hard. “Because. You think, you’re gay?”

Nancy sat down on the floor.

“The floors all wet-”

“I know, Steve.” Nancy cut him off gently. He was familiar with the tone.

Steve looked at her, looked at the floor, and opted to sit next to her. The rain was hitting harder on the door behind them.

Nancy didn't seem like she had anything more to say. Steve tried to think of something to ask.

“Why, uh. Why do you think you are?”

“I don’t know if I am.” She said quickly.

“Why do you think you might be?”

She sighed, pushed the wet hair off her face. “You don’t have to talk to me about this. I figure it probably doesn't feel good to hear.”

Steve hadn't thought of that. If Nancy is gay, that means she probably wasn't ever actually into him. Not just after a while, but from ‘go,’ it wasn't the same for her.

“Not great.” Steve admitted. “But. It isn't about me.”

Nancy sighed again. “Why are you so nice?” She mumbled. “Both you and Jonathan.” Then she teared up again.

“I thought maybe.” Nancy started up after clearing her throat. “That I didn’t… feel as much because. I was just with the wrong person.” She glanced sideways, clearly feeling worse with every word. “But. I didn’t. I just. I felt the same. Like something was missing.”

“You always feel like that?” Steve was kind of surprised. “Like, with every relationship?”

“Romantic ones, yeah.”

The rain got louder again. “I was…” Nancy fought to say the next words. “I didn’t always feel like that.”

“With us?” Steve hopes a little. “Or with Jonathan?”

Nancy speaks a little softer, like it will soften the blow to Steve, to herself. “...With Barb.”

Billy was going to give Steve so much shit for falling for Robin and Nancy since it sounded like they were both gay. He already had gotten shit about Robin. “This is a problem unique to bisexuals.” had been Billy’s quip.

Nancy talked a bit more easily after that one admission. About why Barb's death hit her so hard. About why she felt bad for hurting Steve, how confused she was, how alone.

How she pushed everyone away except whoever held the position of boyfriend because she didn't ever feel right around people. But boyfriend seemed. Normal.

Steve was pretty familiar with feeling like he Should Do whatever was ‘normal.’ His parents weren’t exactly pleased when ‘being bi’ turned out to be an actual thing and not just a family conversation they could keep pretending they didn't have.

Nancy was crying again. Said she was sorry again.

Steve hugged her.

It was pretty awkward. He was trying not to touch her too much and her hair got his sweater wet, but she tucked her face against his chest like she always used to.

Something about that clicked. How hugs had always felt closer for them than kisses. How maybe they had been meant to be friends, and just misread the signs.

Maybe they could be friends now. Maybe.

Nancy pulled away and wiped her nose. “Thank you.”

“Yeah.”

Steve checked his phone to let Nancy fix her face a little and then winced at the sheer volume of messages from Billy that popped up on his screen.

“What’s up?’ Nancy asked, leaning back over.

“Oh, just Billy.”

“Oh god,” Nancy grimace. “He can’t have been pleased I came over.”

Steve opened the messages. “He’s not. But I told him it was important.” “You can. Tell him.” Nancy said tentatively. “If you want. About what we talked about. About me.” Billy was gonna get a kick out of this. But Steve felt more somber about it than Billy probably would.

It was weird.

He’d been in Nancy’s shoes. But he’d also been completely in love with her. So at once he was hurt and sympathetic.

But he also felt. Better.

Something about the two of them, Steve and Nancy, always seemed. Unfinished.

This was probably the close out they needed.

“I should call Billy back.”

“Of course.” Nancy looked almost embarrassed. “I can go-”

“Nah, stay a bit.” Steve was standing up, unlocking his phone to a slew of “wheeler has been on my shit list from day ONE” and “i know you’d never cheat like i know that i'm not crazy but my therapist said.” Makes Steve smile at his phone. “‘I'll make you tea or something."

[queen-haq]

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 7

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 7

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language and light smut.

Words: ~2200 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost...

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5   Part 6

Chapter 7

You should have asked Billy to stop. The logical part of you knew fucking him in some dirty alleyway was wrong. You deserved better than this, even if he didn’t think so, but when his mouth was on yours and ravaging you, and you were filled with so much anger that you wanted to scream – well, it dulled the sane part of you. Your body was desperate for release and you simply gave into your baser instincts.

You ripped his leather jacket off while he did the same with your coat. You bit his bottom lip so hard you tasted blood in your mouth as he braced you uncomfortably against the jagged wall. There was nothing remotely tender or loving about this moment as he pulled your underwear down and hiked up your skirt to your waist. Knee propped against the wall, he balanced you atop his leg. You rubbed yourself on his thigh, groaning at the arousing feel of his rough jeans on your pussy.  The moans you cried out were swallowed by his demanding mouth, his fingers bruising your hips as he held you steady.

You quickly unzipped his jeans, pulling his cock out, pumping him quickly before he forcibly removed your hand from his. His fingers slipped inside your mouth and you licked them with your tongue, your teeth nipping his skin. You were so wet already, grinding down on him, but he took his fingers from your mouth and reached down to stroke your pussy, getting you ready for him. You gasped when he penetrated you slowly, taking his time so you felt every inch of him impale you. Your body shuddered, quivering under the intensity of his gaze as he watched you take him in. Then he began to thrust, jostling your body hard against him. Clinging to him, you bit his shoulder hard each time.

You missed him, the feel of his hands all over you when he was excited, the weight of his body pressing down on you when he was inside you, how loud and wild he was when he was fucking you.

Eyes closed, you lolled your head back against the wall and moaned loudly as he brushed your clit. The combination of his cock and fingers drove you crazy, you were lost in a haze of ecstasy when Billy lifted you higher. You winced with pain as your back scraped against the wall but he didn’t notice, focused on maneuvering your leg around his waist so he can go in deeper.

Pain and pleasure rocked through your body. You could feel yourself getting close, so close, when he suddenly gripped your chin.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” His voice was tender, gentle, eyes shining bright. “Look at me, Y/N.”

His beautiful brown eyes were glazed with need, mouth slightly open. He peered up at you, his nose crinkled, with the most amazed expression on his face. Struck by an intense wave of affection, you caressed his beard and leaned forward to lick his bottom lip. A warm, wicked smile marked his lips before he pulled your lip with his teeth, playing with you.  

Hips undulating in unison, his fingers working you, you hit your orgasm within seconds and the world exploded.

As waves of pleasure surged through you, you rode them out, blissful and semi-aware of Billy still thrusting in you as he sucked the corner of your neck. He groaned loudly, his body shaking, when he finally came inside you.

Time stood still. Your body felt boneless, your mind soaring.

You were limp in his arms, probably heavy as hell, but he somehow managed to still hold you up, breath ragged at first but slowly returning to normal. He grasped the back of your head with one hand while cradling your face with the other, angling up to graze your forehead, your eyebrows, dropping gentle kisses on the top of your closed eyelids. You murmured contentedly, enjoying this unexpected moment of tenderness from him.  

Then you heard voices approaching and your eyes flew open. The reality of where you were hit you like a ton of bricks. Immediately you untangled yourself from Billy’s arms, pushing him away, and started righting your clothes.

Your thighs felt wet, slick with his cum. You dug through your pockets for Kleenex, something you could use to clean yourself but there wasn’t any. But Billy was prepared, of course he was. His eyes glued to your face, he retrieved tissue from his jacket pocket and started wiping your thighs. “I can do it!” you snapped, grabbing it from him. When you felt somewhat presentable again, you started walking away.

“Where are you going?” he demanded.

You pulled out your phone to request an Uber but he snapped it from your hand. “What are you doing? Give me my phone back!”

“I’ll take you home.”

“I’ll get home myself. I don’t need anything from you!”

“Just shut up and follow me to my car.”

The last thing you wanted was to spend more time with him but he was holding your phone hostage. You followed him grudgingly, careful to keep your distance. The car was parked nearby and upon approaching the vehicle, he held the passenger side door open for you. You knew better than to assume the chivalrous gesture was meant for you specifically. It was a thing he always did, as part of the charming image he cultivated, but whereas he usually wore a smile when he held the door open, right now he simply looked furious. You slid in; he slammed the door shut. As you buckled your seat belt, you grimaced. The same spot on your back that had scraped against the wall was now rubbing against the seat and the friction from the contact was almost painful.  

The car ride home was filled with tension. You felt his eyes on you every so often but you refused to acknowledge him, not when your mind was reeling with hurt and anger. How could you be so stupid? You were supposed to move on from him, instead you fucked him in some alleyway next to a crowded restaurant. Worse yet, there was a chance your boss may have spotted you. You may have potentially risked your career for a guy who wouldn’t even go out with you.  

Over the past year, researching him as you had, you’d come to realize he needed the finer things in life. His car, his penthouse, the clothes he wore, they were all a status symbol for him. He needed them to feel like he’d accomplished something, probably to separate himself from the kid who grew up in foster homes and had nothing. Women, obviously, played into that equation as well. Women like Dinah Madani, beautiful, powerful, accomplished, they looked great in his arms and made him feel good about himself – but you were not in the same category of women as Dinah and he treated you accordingly. She was good enough to take to the gala, to be the date he wined and dined. You were the woman he fucked in secret. Well, not exactly a secret because he fucked you on the street like you were trash. Somehow you didn’t think Dinah Madani would ever get the two-bit whore treatment from Billy.

Rage hit you again, and you scooted as far from him as possible. The movement caused the sore spot on your back to hit the chair again and you winced.

“You okay?” he asked.

You were starting to panic, taking count of everything that had gone wrong in the past hour. The man who tried to kill you was out on bail. Roger found out you had shared embarrassing info with a competitor, which may have potentially jeopardized your job. You just fucked someone without protection, someone who was known for sleeping around.

Suddenly you couldn’t breathe, everything was weighing down on you. Shit. Shit. Shit.

You hunched over, clutching your temples, staring down at the floormat. You were struggling to breathe, your chest felt constricted.

You felt Billy rub your back, murmuring some nonsense to you, but you ignored him, instead closing your eyes to take a few deep breaths. You inhaled slowly, exhaled slowly. You did it for several minutes. Soon the panic subsided and a familiar numbness took over. Your mind was clear again.

So, yeah, you were in deep shit at the moment, but it was nothing compared to what you’d gone through in the past. You were able to get out of your family’s clutches, that meant you could get through anything. You just had to be calm and formulate a plan.

Okay. Out of everything that had gone wrong, the easiest thing to fix was an unwanted pregnancy. You’d go down to the pharmacy and get Plan B. That way you didn’t have to worry about being knocked up. And then you’d make an appointment next week with the clinic to get checked out. Even though Billy was usually very careful about using a condom – except today – you had no idea how many other women he was sleeping with and you didn’t want to risk catching anything from him.

Two things down, two more things to go.

First thing when you got home, you’d call Roger. You’d reassure him that telling Billy about Adam Preston was a one-time thing and you weren’t in the habit of divulging confidential information to a competitor. You were shook up yesterday, you weren’t in your right mind, and that had resulted in a terrible error in judgement. It was never going to happen again. And Roger valued you, he appreciated all the work you did, he wouldn’t hold something so silly over you. And if he saw you fucking Billy? You cringed at the thought, but there was no point in inviting trouble. If he did catch you red-handed, well, you’d cross that bridge when you came to it. “There’s a pharmacy at the end of my street,” you said to Billy, without looking at him. “You can drop me off there.”

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Adam Preston was the biggest problem you had to overcome. You’d already started looking into his family, trying to find dirt that you could use as leverage against them in case you needed to. But you remembered the look in Adam’s eyes when he’d been ready to kill you. He was unhinged and held you responsible for everything wrong in his life. There was a very good chance he couldn’t be reasoned with or blackmailed, but you were not going to spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder in fear. No, never again. You’d spent your entire childhood that way, always wondering what inconsequential thing would set your father off. You were not going to live through that again. So, fuck Adam Preston. If he couldn’t be controlled, then he’d have to be eliminated. Simple as that. And you knew exactly who to turn to for that.

“Give me my phone,” you said to Billy, finally turning to look at him.

Dividing his attention between the road ahead and you, he shot you a confused glance. “I’ve been talking to you for the last ten minutes. Have you heard a single thing I’ve said?”

“No.” You held out your hand. “My phone, Billy.”

“Why do you need to go to a pharmacy?” He cast her a quick glance. “Did I hurt you?”

“I don’t want to get knocked up by you. So I’m going to the pharmacy to get that taken care of. Does that answer your question?”

You noted the way his jaw clenched, but you reminded yourself not to care. You were done with Billy. You were done with feeling like shit. The first time he made you feel worthless, you could console yourself with the fact it hadn’t been your fault. Before you caught him with Dinah, you didn’t know he viewed you. Every time since then, however, was a conscious choice on your part to engage with him which meant you were solely responsible for how pathetic you felt right now. He was selfish, callous, and treated you like shit, and yet you still fucked him. That was something you had to hold yourself accountable to.

Parking his car a few feet away from the pharmacy doors, he turned off his car. His face was dark, his voice terse. “I didn’t force you to fuck me back there, babe. You wanted it as much as I did.”

You met his solemn stare. “You’re right. I did. I fucked you even though you make me feel worthless. There’s only been one other person who’s made me feel that ugly and I cut them out a long time ago - but not you, you I fuck.” A bitter laugh escaped you. “I told you about the Adam thing and what did you do? You went and threw it in my boss’s face so you can brag about Anvil. He could fire me tomorrow and I wouldn’t have any recourse because I’m the one who divulged confidential information. But you feeling smug and superior is obviously more important than me keeping my job.” You looked away from him, staring out the window. “You keep hurting me, and I just let you. For what? Because I have feelings for you? Because some part of me might love you? That’s not a good enough reason.” You shook your head. “I fought like hell to make something of myself, to be safe and happy. I’m not going to let these stupid feelings ruin all that. You will not destroy me.” You felt calm, at peace with your decision. “Give me my phone.”

Your fingers made physical contact when he handed you your phone. His potent stare was affixed on you, angry, volatile, filled with emotion, but you ignored his gaze and snatched the phone away from him.

You opened the door and exited the car, heading to the pharmacy. There was a line at the counter and you took the opportunity to block Billy’s number on your phone.

It was odd. Revealing your weaknesses to Billy, making yourself vulnerable – any of those would have made you hyperventilate before. You weren’t in the habit of giving people ammunition to use against you, but you suspected it was the only way to get rid of Billy permanently. And, strangely, telling him how you felt in the car was freeing. Because, ultimately, it didn’t matter what he thought, the only thing that mattered was you. And you were ready to move on.

Part 8

A/N - As always, thank you for being such a wonderful, generous audience and all the likes, reblogs, comments, asks, and messages you’ve left me. Trust me when I say, I’m committed to finish this story because of you :)

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