#HE KNOWS IT'S IMPOSSIBLE AND YET. HE WILL NEVER LEAVE BILLY'S SIDE

[uu-tella]

Tella's Karuta cards, from chapter 87

[amomentsescape]

hello! Are you ok?, I hope so ❤️ (by the way, your writing is wonderful)

I would like to make a request for Yandere Slashers with an S/O who is a mermaid, who usually kills people who dare to invade her lakes, and she kills these people by drowning.

(I'm sorry if there are any writing errors, English is not my first language, and I'm writing this using Google translate)

Slashers with Mermaid! Reader

Yandere! Slashers x Reader

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, & Bo

A/N: I'm doing good, thank you <3 I hope you enjoy! (Also, I decided I'm going to remove Lester from the Slasher requests. I'm still very much open to writing for him when specified, but I feel like he doesn't quite fit in with all the other Slashers).

Freddy Krueger

Meeting you was quite literally the best thing to ever happen in his undead life

He likes to team up with you, constantly coming up with different ways you both can contribute to someone's death

You pull them under, and they suddenly wake up in Freddy's world

Your dynamic is pretty ideal too

Whenever you sleep, you can visit him

And he has no issues with popping into your waters just to say hi

He does this quite often, in fact

He is very aware you can take care of yourself, but he still gets worried

You're his

He doesn't trust anyone being around you

Even if your only intention is to kill them immediately

He understands that where you are now is your home, but that won't stop him from doing whatever he can to have you live in his world

He can create the perfect environment for you

Miles and miles of nothing but water if your heart desires

Which hopefully it does

Since he isn't willing to wait much longer

Michael Myers

He never thought creatures like you actually existed

But the moment he saw your strength and darkness, he was immediately drawn in against his better judgment

He visits more often then you think

He's always around, watching

You can feel eyes on you almost 90% of the day, but you never really know where it's coming from

He enjoys watching you swim and just relax

But he especially loves seeing you drag poor souls into the tide with you

There's something so twisted and yet magical about watching you kill

But this fascination is also paired with extreme jealousy

He hates seeing you touch other people

And he almost envies the way they get to be so close to you, even if it means their demise

He hopes to find a way to take you home with him for good one of these times

You told him you loved him, so you'd be happy as long as you're by his side

Right?

Jason Voorhees

Out of all places to meet the love of your life, this one seemed especially unfortunate for Jason

But his feelings for you were strong enough to overrule his fear

He'll sit by the shore with you, hearing you talk and sing old tunes he's never heard before

He loves listening to your stories about the world underneath the current

But this always leaves him with such a deep feeling of sadness

He wants a life where you both can live together and share those memories

But he knows that's nearly impossible

He starts spending more time by the water side than the camp, finding that irresponsible teens like to be by the beach even more than the forest

You lure them in with your beauty and your words, and Jason finishes the job

He'll let you kill too if you really wish to, but he doesn't like the idea of those types of people being so close to you

He barely gets to touch you, so why should they get what he so desperately wants instead?

Thomas Hewitt

In this desert like area of Texas, Thomas has to travel quite far to see you

But the one time he accidentally stumbled upon you, he was smitten

And you surprisingly didn't turn him into another victim like all the others

He was kind to you

And now, he brings you food and stops by as often as he possibly can

You've made him little necklaces out of bones and shells

He wears every single one of them

Your bond only gets stronger each time he comes to see you

But Thomas can only take so much

Why can't you be closer?

He knows the family would love you

And he could make you so happy

His bathtub is big enough for you, he's sure of it

He knows that you won't want to leave your own home for his, but he loves you and knows what will be best for you

He's just got to be patient

Bubba Sawyer

His own family had to go on a search for him after he disappeared for a couple days

But he just couldn't help it

You make him so happy, and the more time he spent with you, the more difficult it became to leave your side

He's tried to jump in a few times to be with you, but you always persuade him out of it

He doesn't know how to swim, and you don't want him to end up like everyone else

That's when he decided that the best option would be to create your very own pond in his backyard!

That way, you could be with each other, and he would never have to say goodbye again

He hasn't told you this idea yet, but he's sure you'd be happy with it

This would also keep you from needing to kill anyone else

You're too beautiful to get your hands dirty

And it's unfair that they get to join you in the water when you won't let him do the same

He can make you super happy with his family, he's sure of it

Brahms Heelshire

He hates this dynamic between you two

He wants you at home with him so you can take care of him, and he can keep you away from everyone else

No one should get to touch you or look at you besides him

He's actually tried to drag you out of the water before, but the prospect of accidentally killing you was enough to make him stop

He never knew he could envy a body of water as much as he does

It gets to hold you, touch you, and be with you at all times

He wants that too, so desperately

Because of you, he's gone from house dweller to nature enthusiast in just a matter of days

Even when you think he's at home, he's stalking around, watching you

He insists it's to keep you safe

In fact, you haven't had to drown anyone in quite a while

And you can thank Brahms for that

The moment he sees a single soul in the area, he drags them off and disposes of them before you even have a chance to see them

He wouldn't dare let you touch another being that isn't him

Norman Bates

It honestly took him a really long time to believe that you were even real

He didn't think mermaids or sirens actually existed, so seeing you for the first time made him pinch himself to make sure this wasn't some weird dream

He also took a while to trust you since he didn't want to fall victim to your treacherous waters

But once he realized you were genuine, he dove straight in all at once

He visits you whenever he can for however long he can muster

Someone needs to run the motel, but God he wishes he could be with you 24/7

He's "jokingly" brought up the idea of you staying at the motel in a pool he could install for you

He just wants to keep an eye on you at all times

He constantly dreams of finding a way to make you human so you two can truly be together

Until you have two feet like him, it will never be enough

Billy Loomis

Doesn't tell a single soul about you

Not even Stu

And it's not because he's embarrassed or wants to see other people

He's honestly just scared that others will either think he's insane or try to capture you

Visits you every day and makes sure to pack his swim trunks so he can join you in the water

Constantly admires you and wants to run his hands along your scales

He just thinks you're all around incredible

But he has this hidden level of anger towards the situation

He wants to walk around town with you, show you off

He wants you to join him on his sprees so you can see just how powerful he can be

And he hates the idea of not having eyes on you at all times

He knows you kill anyone who isn't him, but he doesn't want you getting that close to anyone in general

He spends his nights studying ways to get you to live with him

He'll find a way to have you all to himself, even if it ends up being the death of him

Stu Macher

He actually first met you while you were seducing some poor soul to their death

And Stu was immediately enamored

He comes to see you whenever he can

He sometimes spends the weekend camping out along the shore just so he can spend more time with you

He thinks you're beautiful of course, but he can't help but fantasize what it would be like if you were human like him

You two come from very different worlds, but there's nothing that could keep you away from him

He likes to bring up the idea of mermaids and mythical creatures in casual conversations with people

How they react to it will determine whether they make his hit list

He likes to bring you jewelry and pretty objects from his victims, showing you items that you've never seen before

He talks about how one of these days, he's going to have a house built on the shore so he can be with you

And if you argue against it, he will shut down

The pent up frustration of not getting to sleep next to you every night makes his killings more brutal and his fantasies all the more darker

Vincent Sinclair

Every time he comes to see you, he brings a new portrait or wax figure of you that he made

You flood his dreams and his mind 24/7

He honestly thinks he's under some sort of spell

He doesn't mind that you aren't human like him

He's always felt very different from everyone else, so it's nice for him to have someone he relates to

But his jealousy constantly gets the better of him

Anytime you tell him of some poor soul you drowned, he can't help but feel his blood boil

Even if it ends in their death, he hates the idea of you flirting or seducing these people

The only one who should be receiving that attention is him

Barely sleeps at night

He has snuck to the shore countless time without your knowledge, just watching you and making sure your stories line up with what he observes

Is overall obsessed even more than you know

Bo Sinclair

If anyone saw you together, it would be enough to make them blush

The way you two can constantly flirt back and forth without any hesitation is otherworldly

You could have sworn he must have been a creature like you in a past life

He's so touchy when he's with you, not afraid to get his clothes wet in an effort to just be closer to you

He truly makes you feel accepted as you are and with where you live

But little do you know of his darker nature

He stalks the shore and kills off anyone that trespasses before you even have a chance to get to them

He doesn't need you looking at anyone but him

And he's already been renovating an old abandoned pool in Ambrose for you

You're going to finally be living with him like he's always wanted

You don't know this yet, but he's sure you'll be happy with the idea

It will be a great surprise

[puppetwoman17]

Billy is six years old and he doesn’t understand death.

Billy is six years old and his parents are dead. His mom is found laying on the floor of her hotel room, covered in her own blood. His dad’s body is trapped beneath the rubble, devoid of sunlight.

Billy is six years old and his sister is gone. They can’t find her body. They can’t find her clothes. They can’t find her blood or her hair. She’s just gone.

Billy is six years old and he doesn’t understand death.

He waits for them to come home. Whispers at night that he hates his uncle.

Billy is six years old and he thinks it’s his fault they haven’t come home. He got bad grades. He can’t understand the equations on the board. He made his parents leave him home. He became a burden, so they left him. Mary must think the same too, because she hasn’t come home either.

Billy is six years old and his entire life has changed. They brought his mom back, but she isn’t moving. Her eyes are closed and she isn’t moving or breathing. Dad isn’t with her.

He thinks that’s all wrong. Dad loved mom more than anything in the universe. He would never leave her. And they wouldn’t leave Mary to fend for herself. It doesn’t matter how much they must’ve hated him. He knew, with every fiber of his being, that they loved Mary.

Billy is seven years old, and he watches them lower his mother’s body into the ground from a distance. He stands behind a tree as eulogies are delivered, and two more stones are added on either side. The boxes are empty.

They have the nerve to pray for him.

Billy is seven years old and an adult finally believes in him. He finds a world of mystic and magic and impossibilities turned to possibilities.

Billy is eight when he finally uses the Historama. He’s curious. He’s tired. He’s lonely. He wants the truth.

Billy is eight when he finally understands death. His parents aren’t away because they hate him. His parents are away because they’re gone.

And yet, he can’t shake the feeling that Mary is still alive.

- - -

Mary doesn’t remember how old she is.

She has nightmares and visions and hears voices from a long forgotten past. She can’t sleep without waking up screaming. She sees faces she can’t put names to. She loves her adoptive parents, but the chasm in her heart is too deep.

Mary doesn’t remember what she likes or dislikes. She lives in a big house now, with her own room. But she likes sleeping when someone else is sleeping with her. She doesn’t think she’s ever had her own room.

Mary doesn’t remember how old she is, but she remembers the feeling of a sharp, cold hand on her shoulder, guiding her onto a boat with a name that she knows isn’t hers. She doesn’t know where she lives. She doesn’t know who her family is, or if she even has a family.

Mary doesn’t remember how old she is, but she remembers a towel over her mouth. Zoning out. Her memories floating away from her. Yelling and screaming for a mom and a dad. Something about B—

Mary doesn’t remember how old she is, and she can’t shake the feeling that she left someone behind.

[milliesfishes]

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚𝓔𝓹𝓲𝓵𝓸𝓰𝓾𝓮: 𝓤𝓷𝓭𝓸𝓾𝓫𝓽𝓪𝓫𝓵𝓮𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

[fem reader] contains: angst, pregnancy, difficult birth pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: epilogue to 'Impossible' and 'Inscrutable' author’s note: this series has been an emotional journey and y'all have been more than supportive. thank you for reading this story and loving it as much as I do <3 Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

The hum of the forest was the epitome of calm.

It was never loud, of course, but it was noisy in a quiet way, the steady lilt of birds and creatures likewise creating an overall pleasing sound. Sometimes the wind rustled the leaves, and when it rained it was peaceful.

On days like today, when the sun was peeking through the leaves and casting shadows on the soft earth, it was heaven. Your mind was at ease as you sat on the porch and let yourself breathe. The air was cool despite the state of the sky, and so you had a blanket wrapped around you as you sat cozied up directly in the path of the sunshine.

It was nearly nightfall, and you wanted to get as much warmth as possible from this beautiful day, since it was sure to rain tomorrow. These kinds of fair-weather gaps were exactly that: gaps. You didn't know when the next one would come, and so you soaked up the light when it came.

Your ears tuned in to the crunch of footsteps, and when you looked out into the distance you saw Billy lumbering over with a stack of fresh cut wood. He set it by the porch steps and climbed up to meet you, greeting you with a kiss and kneeling at your side, his hand finding yours. The other hand adjusted the blanket around you, pulling it snugly over your shoulders.

"Hey baby," he murmured, his voice low and affectionate. "Ya warm enough?"

Nodding gently, you squeezed his hand and slid from your chair to wrap your arms around his neck. The blanket fell around your waist as you cuddled up against him quietly.

Billy didn't question it, just slid one arm over your back and the other to the back of your head, holding you there so comfortably that you sighed. His body rocked back and forth subtly, soothing you even though there was nothing to be soothed from. This was perfect. He was perfect.

His chin rested on the part in your hair. "You hungry?"

"Mhm," you smiled, nuzzling your head against his chest.

"Alright." Billy stood, bringing you with him and rewrapping the blanket around your shoulders. "How 'bout I make us somethin' tonight, hm?"

Normally you would have said yes. He was being sweet, and you could tell today was one of those days when he particularly felt like spoiling you. But you had something on your mind.

"I already started something," you smiled, and he kissed your forehead.

"You're an angel Daisy." He slid his arm around you and led you back inside. "M' girl workin' hard f'me."

"You work plenty hard for me all day," you responded as you went into the kitchen, checking on the stove. Soup was just about done. You'd stepped outside while it simmered, knowing a watched pot never boiled. "This is the least I can do."

"You're gonna turn me into a kept man," Billy chuckled, leaning over your shoulder and taking a whiff of the soup. "Ohh, this one's my favorite honey."

"I know," you said casually, reaching for bowls to ladle it into. "Go sit. I'll bring it to you."

"Can't let my girl be carryin' her own dinner," Billy reached for the bowls as you served up the soup.

"Go sit." You leaned up and kissed his cheek so he would. Though it was silly, you didn't want to ask for anything from him. Not yet.

As expected, he ate every bite in front of him and asked for seconds, which you happily provided him with. You wanted to make sure he was fed before you told him what you'd been thinking about.

When he was done, he reached over to squeeze your hand. "Thank you, baby. That was so good."

You smiled, squeezing his hand back. "Billy."

He recognized that look in your eye and nodded, sitting up straighter. When he'd come in the house, he'd taken off his hat, and so you could see his eyes clearly now. The sight of them comforted you.

"Billy," you started, giving his hand another squeeze. "I've been thinking about something. And I...I think it could be a really good thing for us."

"Tell me, angel," his chin lowered so you were at eye level. "I'm all ears."

He wasn't going to like this. "I want to try for another baby."

You could hear the creak of the roof, the birds singing their final notes before the sun hid behind the hills. The only silence was between the two of you. Billy's lips parted slightly in surprise. His eyes were cast on the wood of the table in front of you, and he seemed to be thinking.

Finally, he looked back up, shaking his head. "No."

"Billy just hear me out-" you tried, standing as he did. He picked up both your bowl and his, bringing them over to the counter. His hands found the edges and gripped them as you plead your case, head bowed, expression solemn. "-I know what you're thinking-"

"Daisy..." he turned around to look at you, and you saw he was slightly taken aback by your pleading eyes and desperate stance. Billy's face softened just a tad and then he stepped forward, his hand finding the nape of your neck and pushing your head forward to his lips, which found your forehead. "Daisy. No."

Your face fell. He sighed and looked down for a second. When he met your eyes again, Billy said, "Why don'tcha go on and get ready for bed? I'll clean up here and meetcha there in a minute."

It was hard to do anything but stare at him. He was trying to distract you and it wasn't working. Seeing this, Billy's hands cradled your cheeks, and he kissed your nose, nudging it with his. "Go on now. I'll be along."

Feeling dejected and slightly embarrassed, you obeyed.

When he came in from the kitchen you were in your nightdress, sitting on the edge of the bed with your knees tucked under you and brushing your hair, eyes fixed on the ground.

The sounds of him undressing were heard, and you felt the mattress dip as he settled next to you. There was a hand on your shoulder, but you didn't turn.

He swept your hair behind your shoulder, running his fingers through the freshly brushed strands. Billy loved playing with your hair. He always had. You turned to look at him, hopeful that maybe this time he would listen.

Seeing what you were about to do, Billy spoke. "I'm sorry Daisy. I didn't respond the way I should've in there." He thumbed your cheek as he muttered, "But...you have to understand why I think it's a bad idea."

"I know," you said softly, searching his eyes. "But that was different."

He let out a frustrated sigh, hanging his head for a moment. "Daisy I almost lost ya. Ain't goin' through that 'gain."

"There was a war going on," you protested. "So many things were different than they are now. "And Joe had just-" your breath hitched, and you looked away. No matter how much time passed, the sting of your brother's death still felt brand new.

Billy looked pained over it too. It'd been just as hard a hit for him; losing his best friend. But he continued. "You were havin' problems long before that. Rosie was takin' such a toll on you, honey. I woulda worried the same even if everythin' with the fire hadn't happened."

"We were kids, Billy," you insisted, squeezing his hand. "It was such a stressful situation."

"We ain't older by much," he looked down at your hands. "'sides, the older ya get the more dangerous it's gonna be."

"So we should try now while it's not dangerous," you tried.

"I'm worried it already is dangerous, sweetheart," Billy looked so sincere that you fell silent. The quiet was burning, the energy from the argument still palpable in the air. He hesitated before continuing. "We have each other. We're alive. And we're safe. Can't we just count what we've got and be content with that?"

His words made you feel guilty. Why couldn't you be happy with what you had? No, you were happy. All the pain of the past had settled into dust, even if it was kicked up every now and then. Every day you woke up and thanked your lucky stars that he was next to you, safe and sound.

But you couldn't ignore that undeniable yearning inside you. That hole Rosie had left in you could never be filled. You would always miss your baby girl. But it could be eased.

"I don't want you to think I'm not happy," you started quietly, meeting his eyes again. "I'm so, so happy. Every day I see you beside me alive and breathing is a treasure. It feels like a dream being just the two of us out here. There's no war and no bounty hanging over our heads."

Billy nodded, sensing you had more to say and staying silent.

"But a baby could be such a good thing," you smiled softly as you said it. "When I think of Rosie, and how happy I was to have her even for a minute...I know you felt it too."

He had a faraway look in his eye, and you knew he was remembering. "I know, Daisy."

Then he wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face in your neck. One hand came to the strap of your chemise, sliding under it and letting one finger roam up and down the skin there. You ran your fingers through his hair as he murmured, "We've spent half our lives wanting to be together like this. I don't wanna put that at risk for anything. Not even a baby."

You nodded, finally truly understanding his stance. He'd lost so many people he loved in his life. You were all he had left now. And truthfully, he was all you had too. So, with that in mind, you kissed his hair. "You're right."

He lifted his head. "I am?"

Nodding again, you gave him a little smile. "I love you. I'm so happy being here with you after everything...I think you're right. It was a reckless idea."

Billy nudged his nose against your forehead and gave it a kiss. He held his lips there for a moment. "Thank ya, baby." Wrapping his arm around you, he pulled you down to rest against him, burying his face in your hair. "Thank ya for lettin' me keep you."

That night you thought your dreams would hold cradles and babies, but they didn't. It was funny how the day before you'd wanted it so, so bad, but now that need was gone. You would have liked a baby, really, but Billy's words stuck with you.

No more losing each other.

You kept that mindset until one day when Billy was hugging you and you realized your breasts were more tender than usual.

Oh.

That had been one of the first signs when you'd figured out you were having Rosie. And the second you realized that was when you knew. It was a tiny, resolute feeling within you to match the tiny, resolute life inside you. When you missed your monthly it only confirmed it.

Nervous to tell Billy, you held off for about a week. But it built up inside you and exactly seven days after you'd realized, when you were in bed one evening with him, skin against skin, you blurted it out.

He'd looked down at you, his lips parted in surprise. But when he saw how joyful you were, how excited, his face softened, and he pulled you impossibly closer, kissing all over your face.

"It was meant to be," you whispered in the dark as you laid with your head on his shoulder. One of his hands was covering your flat tummy in a protective way.

Billy kissed your temple in response. "It was."

Your pregnancy went by quickly. With Rosie, you hadn't thought it possible for Billy to get more vigilant, but apparently you hadn't seen anything.

This baby weakened you more than Rosie had much to Billy's worry. You were bedridden for much of the second half of the pregnancy. Your husband wouldn't let you lift a single finger, and it only made you love him more. He was so determined to make this work.

When your appetite was gone, he spoon fed you soup. When your body was sore and achy he offered his hands, his arms; any of his warm body to soothe the pain. In those few moments when you cried to him that you were scared, he held you tight, telling you how strong you were, and that everything was going to be okay.

In a moment of weakness, you agreed with him that this was going to be your last baby. It had been a miracle to get this one, and you weren't going to push your body further than it could take.

Giving birth was an arduous process just like you remembered. You lived too far out of town to get to a midwife in time, and so Billy propped you up with his body, his hand squeezed between yours as he helped you breathe through the pain.

He was frightened, you could tell. And you would have been lying if you said you weren't too. The events of Rosie's coming into the world had haunted you ever since you'd found out about this baby. But Billy was here. And he'd never not be here. That eased you through the rippling cramps more than anything.

Luckily your body's natural instincts took over, and just as the sun set, you had a baby girl. And she was healthy, crying as Billy handed you to her. You laid the baby against your chest, tears falling down your cheeks as you looked at her, at her tiny body, her little fingers and toes. She was beautiful.

"You're amazing," Billy readjusted himself behind you after he'd carefully changed the bedsheets, making sure not to disturb his wife and child. He kissed your hair. "And you're feelin' alright?"

"Just tired," you whispered, unable to take your eyes off your baby. She was sleeping so peacefully in your arms, swaddled in a blanket.

He reached over to rest his hand on the baby's head, smoothing her gently. She had a smattering of dark hair just like Billy's. And you knew most babies were born with blue eyes, but you'd bet money that hers would stay that way. Just like her daddy's.

"Lookit her cheeks," you could hear the smile in his voice. "Like two little cherries." Billy ran a gentle finger down one of them. "Hi, Cherry."

"Charlotte," you reminded him, and he kissed your temple.

"Don't see why she can't have a nickname," he smiled. "I'm real good at those. Gave her mama the best one."

You smiled, leaning back against his chest. "Now's a good time to give one to her. Didn't get mine until I was nine."

"That's nine too many years without it." Billy mock shook his head in disappointment. "Shoulda been there when you popped out."

Laughing lightly, you rested your body fully against his, still watching little Cherry. Billy kept a safe arm around you, his smile tired but elated.

"You've given me everything, Daisy," he said softly, careful not to wake the baby. "You've given me everything I never thought I could have."

Billy dipped his head to kiss you softly, and you looked at him lovingly when your lips parted. "I love you, Billy. Today, tomorrow, forever."

He let out a quiet, happy laugh, his hand at that spot on the back of your head. "My Daisy..." his lips claimed yours again for just a second. "It's you and me, my love."

Your eyes sparkled. "It's you and me."

Previous part

[iamnmbr3]

Honestly, I keep forgetting that tom riddle was like 11 in some of the memories because of the way dumbledore talks about him. I keep picturing him as older teenager young adult. Like bro he's not Conniving he's trying to not die

Exactly! Dumbledore never sees him as a child or an innocent or someone who can be saved (or even needs or deserves it). This is despite the fact that what he knows of 11 year old Tom's behavior is actually not nearly as disturbing and psychopathic as James Potter's behavior for example. James grew up with everything and shows clear sadistic tendencies from a young age. He obviously actively enjoys violently tormenting and assaulting other people for fun. He actually fits the 'serial killer who was a psychopath from a young age' trope better than Tom does, though that wasn't JKR's intent at all.

I think she possibly meant to do something very different with Tom's character but bungled the exectuon. I think she was going for the whole 'serial killers are psychopaths who are un-saveable and torture and kill smalls animals as children" trope but that's not what she wrote. Tom killed one rabbit. Obviously that was wrong, but it wasn't part of a pattern where he routinely small animals for sport. He also didn't kill it for fun (nor did he do it in a particularly prolonged or cruel way). He did it as retribution after an argument (and presumably since he didn't do anything to Billy Stubbs directly, this was an argument with someone he felt unable to take on). Obviously this doesn't make what he did right, but it is a VERY different context from what JKR is trying to imply (since we the readers are supposed to agree with Dumbledore's reactions to and assessments of him). We never even find out what the altercation with Billy Stubbs was about or who initiated it etc.

Aside from that, there's the cave incident where...something happened but we don't know what. It is notable that Dumbledore mentions that it would be virtually impossible to climb up to (or presumably down from) the cave without magic. Which means Tom used his powers to not only get all of them up, but also to bring himself as well as Dennis and Amy back - rather than simply leaving them to die either for fun or to cover up whatever he did to them. (Personally I think he performed magic on/in front of them but then went too far and panicked and tried to wipe their memories but did it badly due to being inexperienced and uncontrolled which is why they are odd afterwards and can't remember what happened). But yeah. We have no idea what happened there. Only that Mrs. Cole, who hates Tom and doesn't know what he is, suspects him of having done something bad. Dumbledore never bothers to get Tom's side of things.

It's also important to remember that while Tom learned to control his powers, at first his use of magic would have been random and uncontrolled. This means that some of the incidents for which he was blamed were outside his control and simply instances of his magic reacting to his emotions rather than him deciding to do something.

Given that Dumbledore hasn't read the later books where Tom Riddle becomes Voldemort and given that he knows that Tom is universally hated and feared in the orphanage for his strange powers (to the point that Tom consequently lives in mortal fear of being thrown in an asylum and seems to have had bad experiences with doctors) he can't even really reasonably be certain that Tom wasn't acting in self defense in the only way he knew how. But he simply takes Mrs. Cole at her word that Tom Riddle is no good and evil even though it makes no sense in-universe to do so since he doesn't know yet that Tom is destined to be the villain of the series.

Tom lives in a tough and dangerous world where strength rules. He has no one to look out for him. The very concept of a caring and trustworthy adult is probably alien to him. He is loathed and feared. He suffers from privation and is surrounded by want and disease and death. The only way for him to exert any power over his own life is to use the strange abilities he posses but doesn't understand and can't fully control. This is his reality. Characters in Game of Thrones live in a violent, dog eat dog world, and that influences their behavior. Similarly, Tom's environment influences his behavior. Given his circumstances his behavior (at least what we know of it), while wrong, is not that shocking or even that extreme. He is trying to survive as best he can.

Maybe all the help and guidance in the world couldn't have turned him from his dark path. But the point is, no one ever gives him that chance. Dumbledore shows immediate bias towards him - and we're supposed to think this bias is justified, but that's not supported by what's actually in the text.

[springdandelixn]

Against the Tide  - Part I

Summary: Your life takes an unexpected turn as the leader of the biker gang that took over your town sets his eyes on you.

Warnings: unwanted touching, power imbalance, abusive undertones, more to be added as the series progresses.

Characters: Dark!Biker!James Conrad x F!Reader, Michael from Legion and Billy Lee from Bad Times at the El Royale (biker au)

A/N: I have taken a dive into newer territory and it’s such a thrilling experience. It’s a first I’m writing for James Conrad so please be gentle. I do dedicate this piece to one of my babies, @michelleleewise​ 💙 Belated Happy Birthday, dear. Also a belated happy birthday to @coldnique​!!

As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope you guys enjoy! 💙

Against the Tide Masterlist

You turn your head to face the back of the bar when you hear the commotion coming from the kitchen, the din of Melody’s angry voice mixing in with the clack of the pool balls from the other side of the bar and the music playing from the speakers. Luis, the new hire, must have messed up another customer’s order, probably burning the burger patties like he did last night. 

You feel your phone buzz from your back pocket and pull off the simple black apron tied around your waist. Turning off your alarm, you peek from the kitchen window and tap your hand against the metal surface, a chuckle leaving your lips as you see Melody’s fuming face. 

“What?!” She snarls and you only roll your eyes playfully at her rage.

“I’m taking my break.” You tell her, holding out your hand after. “Cigs.” 

She pulls a pack from the back of her pocket and slaps it on your hand, giving her a playful wave with your fingers before looking at Luis and laughing at the way he frowns when Melody goes back to scolding him. 

The summer night breeze is a welcome sensation when you step out of the bar and walk over to the side of the building where the cars and motorcycles of the patrons are parked. Tapping the pack against your palm you take the nicotine stick that slides free and tuck it between your lips. 

Shaking the lighter, you flick your thumb against the small metal gear, watching the flame come to life and lighting the tip of the cigarette. You take a long drag, watching the embers eat at the roll of tobacco before huffing the smoke up into the air. A small sigh leaves your lips as you can’t help but contemplate what your life has become while watching the smoke form clouds around the full moon that shines in contrast to the dark sky. 

All your life you’ve only been in Westmoor, never once venturing away from the small town, even if it’s just to visit the next one over. You once had plans of leaving the place you call home when you were a teenager, to abandon the miserable and abusive life you’ve come to know since you were born—your alcoholic father seeing you as a burden and your mother too afraid to fight back once he cracks his hand against your cheek. 

You were free once your mother died from illness, running away from home and finding solace at Ol’ Sammy’s place. The old man treated you like you were his own, his wife, Eleanor, showering you with the love and affection you’ve never known. They’d even ward off your deadbeat father when he would storm up to their porch, demanding money you owed him for raising you. 

You felt like you had a family in their presence but even so, your desire to leave just drew stronger. For there was truly nothing but hardship in this town. Yet no matter how hard you tried, saving every penny you can from years of working at Nick’s, leaving just seemed impossible. 

Especially now with the gang of bikers that have seemingly taken over just about a year ago. Coming into town and claiming it as their own, with every resident scared for their lives as they shamelessly flaunt their power. They made it their job to make their presence known, terrorizing businesses and taking money for protection that isn’t needed. For no one comes to Westmoor to cause havoc, the only visitors being passersby and hunters during the fall. 

The roar of a motorcycle pulls you from your thoughts and you stand rigid against the wall when you see the gang parking their bikes in front of you. You feel a chill run up your spine at their sudden appearance. It’s Wednesday and you know they’re not supposed to be here, Nick telling everyone at the bar when they’re scheduled to collect.

“Hey there, sugar,” Billy calls as soon as their engines die, the burly man getting off his bike and casually striding over to where you stand. 

You do your best to keep your guard up, you know better than to face them alone. Rolling your eyes at Billy’s greeting, you drop your cigarette to the ground and stomp your foot on it to kill the embers before walking away. But a yelp of surprise leaves your lips when your pulled back, the air punching out of your lungs when your back hits the wall, eyes growing wide as Billy presses his hand against the concrete surface, trapping you. 

“Leaving so soon?” He teases, the hair sitting over his lip moving in waves as he juts out his lips. “We just got here.” 

“I’m done my break.” You say in annoyance, pressing your fists against his chest, trying to push him away. “Melody will be furious if I’m late.”

“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind you taking a couple more minutes if she knew you were with me.” His breath already reeks of alcohol, making your stomach turn as he leans closer to your face.

“That’s enough, Billy.” 

Your spine tingles in fear when you hear James’ voice, Billy giving you another smirk, turning your head away when his fingers rub against your cheek when he pulls away from the wall.

Out of all the bikers, James is the one people fear the most. His calm demeanor is nothing but a front to his hidden rage. You’ve witnessed first hand when Richard, one of the bar patrons, beat him in a game of pool, the man never coming back to Nick’s after he was bedridden for almost a month. 

He’s stopped drinking, his wife, Ingrid, said when you went over to their place to drop off a pie Eleanor made. But the brace around his neck and the bruises you saw decorating his face when Ingrid opened the door a little too wide said otherwise.

“You got a light?” James asks as he stands in front of you. You reach into your pocket and hold out the lighter, keeping your expression stoic when he cups your hand with both his, flicking the flame to life before lighting his nicotine stick. 

You pull your hand back when he finishes, tucking the lighter back in your pocket and standing still as he takes a drag and huffs out the smoke, his blue eyes never leaving you. 

“What are you doing out here all alone, dove?” He asks, his gaze lingering down your body before he meets your eyes again. 

“I was on break.” You respond in a monotone voice. “Was just about to head back.”

“Is Nick in?”

“He called out. Said his wife is sick.” 

“Is that so?” He chuckles, taking another puff of the cigarette, cringing when he blows the smoke at your chest. “I guess we came here for nothing, boys. Unless you can make it worth my while?” He asks and you quickly slip away when he leans in closer, your heart pounding hard against your chest when he grabs you all of a sudden. “And who gave you permission to leave?” You shiver at his tone, hushed yet menacing.

“I have to go back to work.” You reason, wincing as he tightens his hold on your wrist when you try to pull away. “You guys come in and have a drink, so your trip isn’t wasted.” You say in a rush, your voice shaking as you speak. “On the house, as much as you want. I’m sure Nick won’t mind.” 

“C’mon, boss.” Billy interjects, his voice sounding like an excited little kid about to get a ice cream from the shop. “I also want to challenge Mikey to a game of pool.” 

A grunt echoes at the side and you see James’ right hand man, Michael, standing and watching you impassively at the side. His tattoo-covered arms are crossed over his chest, his finger leisurely rubbing the base of the gun that hangs on his holster as if waiting for the opportunity to use it.

“Very well.” James groans and drops the half finished cigarette on the ground, releasing your hand all the same. “But you’ll be the one to serve us. No one else. Understood?” He demands. 

You nod and quickly scurry away from him, your annoyance instantly flaring when Billy slaps his hand against your ass when you pass him. 

The stuffy atmosphere is a welcome distraction as you walk back into the building. Melody stands behind the bar, the anger from earlier replaced with a smile. But as soon as she sees you, her lips slant and you know that she knows something isn’t right. 

“What’s wrong?” She asks.

“Conrad and his minions are here.” You quickly tell Melody as you make your way at the back of the bar, the smile on her face quickly fading at your announcement. 

“What are they doing here?” She whispers, turning her back when the boys enter the bar, helping you grab their drinks from the fridge. 

“They’re looking for Nick.”

“Did you tell them he isn’t here?” 

“I did but they won’t leave me alone.” You bite back, popping the caps of the bottles before setting them atop a round tray. “I told them they can have drinks, on the house.”

“What?! Are you stupid? Nick will be—”

“He’ll be happy that we kept them happy. You know how Conrad is.” You hiss, taking the tray. “And the last thing we need is for him to burn down the bar.”

“Fine.” She says in defeat. “I’ll try to call Nick, maybe he can make them go away.” 

You don’t say anything. You already know as well as she and the whole town of Westmoor that it’s impossible to get rid of James and his men. 

[ickadori]

++ 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃

[summary] riling creed up is definitely something you should not do, and yet you always find yourself doing it.

[cws] fem reader. nsfw.

“Do you have to be such a barbarian all the time?”

“Hah?” Creed turns his head to you, a large drumstick in his fist as he loudly chews the meat. “You talkin’ to me?”

“Yes, Creed, I’m talking to you.” Your feet swing as you lean back in your seat at the elevated end of the round table. Billy had warned you on provoking the man, stating that there were far better ways to get his attention and that he wasn’t particularly keen on the idea of shoveling your innards off the floor when you inevitably went too far. “The only other person in this room. I had no idea you were barbaric in mind as well as in nature.”

He kisses at his teeth, the stitches on his face pulling as he glares at you from his seat at the other end of the table, and while the look was surely enough to send the strongest of men to their knees in fear, it only served to make a tingle of anticipation roll up your spine.

“You must have a death wish, little girl.” You huff, arms moving to cross over your chest as you narrow your eyes.

“Stop calling me that - we’re nearly the same age.”

“And yet you’re still dumb as all hell.” You bristle at the insult. “What? Can dish it but you can’t take it? Cute.” The bone he had been gnawing on, the meat long gone in his belly, is unceremoniously tossed over his shoulder. He stands from his seat, and in an instant your face is being pushed up against the cold surface of the table, your ass landing in Creed’s lap as he takes your seat.

“Creed—”

“Shut your mouth. You’ve done enough talkin’ to last a fuckin’ lifetime.” You’re shoved further onto the table, and your hands scramble for purchase as your legs dangle, your entire torso now flat on the cool material.

Is he…?

He yanks at your pants, and you sputter out a surprised shout of his name, earlier bravado now gone. While this had been your goal in mind, you had thought he’d have enough tact to retreat to the bedroom first, or at least a room that wouldn’t be filled in the twenty minutes. “W-We can’t - the meeting is gonna sta—!”

Two thick fingers push into your mouth, effectively silencing you, and you yelp around them when Creed successfully gets your pants and underwear down to your knees.

“Tch. So that’s why you’re more annoyin’ than usual.” Your skin warms as he sinks his fingers into the flesh of your ass and pulls your cheek to the side, rewarding him full view of your glistening cunt. “You needed your cunt filled.”

You whine around his fingers and he pushes them in deeper. A rough thumb swipes down your slit, and you jolt when he pushes it into your hole without warning, a low squelch sounding as your walls eagerly welcome him in. “There’s better ways to ask me to play with your pussy, ya know.” Your toes curl at his words, his thumb shallowly pumping in and out of you, and the sound of metal clinking is heard from behind you. “For one, you could beg.”

His finger leaves you only to be replaced with the head of his cock, fat and hot, and your tongue runs along his fingers, excess drool pooling down his wrist as you moan around his digits. His tip parts your folds, sliding up until it’s bumping into your clit, and your fingers curl into your palm as your lashes flutter.

His tip catches on your hole and slowly begins to breach it, and your breath comes out in short pants and you anticipate the stretch — the feel of your walls stretching to accommodate him, the feel of your cunt fluttering as it welcomes him inside, the feel of your stomach twisting and rolling as he pushes in impossibly deep, but that feeling never comes.

He slips back up to your clit, and you let out a pitiful whine that you’d be embarrassed about later in the privacy of your room. “I said you could beg, didn’t I?” His fingers pinch at your tongue before slipping out of your mouth, and then he’s settling his hand in the center of your back to keep you pinned. “So start beggin’, ‘less you don’t wanna come. ‘Cause I’m fine with this,” he ruts against you, cock sliding through slick folds, “I’ll come either way, but you need a little more, don’t ya? Need a nice, thick cock filling you up to make this pussy cream.”

“Creed,” you clench at his words, a fresh wave of slick spilling out to wet his length even more, and your hips shift back in a futile attempt to feel more friction. He’s purposefully avoiding your clit, and teasing your entrance with his tip - he goes in just a bit, just to give you a taste of what he could give you, before he goes back to sliding through your puffy lips.

“Now, with me being barbaric in mind and all,” he grunts, thick, muscular thighs slapping into the backs of yours on a hard thrust, “I might be wrong, but that didn’t sound like begging to me. You must not want to get fucked.”

“I do!” His thrusts become harder, rougher, and his hands move to your hips so he can pull you back against him. “I do, Creed, please.” His breathing is heavier, his thrusts quicker and sloppier, a signal of his end approaching, and tears prick at your eyes as your clit throbs in need. “Creed, please, please fuck me - I need you to fuck me.”

“Ah, too late.” He grits out, and then he’s pulling his hips back and lining his tip up to your hole, fat head popping in just an inch before he’s filling you up with warm, thick spirts of cum. “Fuuuuck,” he drawls out, hands tightening around your hips when you shift them back, and a pitiful cry works its way up and out of your throat as he pulls his hips back, thick globs of cum spilling from your cunt.

You don’t have any time to be upset, the sound of voices and footsteps nearing the room heard, and Creed pulls your pants and underwear back up just as roughly as he pulled them down. “If ya manage to be a good, docile little thing during this meeting, then I just might think about making you come afterwards.”

In one smooth movement, Creed slides out of your seat, pulls you back into it, and drops down to the floor just as the first person makes it into the room, that person being Billy.

He first looks to Creed who’s just taken his seat, not trying to hide the way he fixes his cargo pants, and then to you who’s squirming in their seat, hair mussed and hand jittery.

“…the meeting is postponed due to unsanitary conditions.”

[discodeviant]

HARRINGROVE WEEK, DAY 7: Thirty

SURPRISE: Billy’s Favorite Hang-Out Spot

How Many Candles on the Birthday Cake: 30 years old

Specific Dialogue: “Did your wish come true?”

"Happy birthday, sunshine! You're 56 today. Remember thirty? Course you do, you're not geriatric yet. Best day of your life, huh? One of them. Mine's when you proposed. Maybe our wedding. The day we met. Our first kiss. First time. You've still got it, by the way, but you know that. Come downstairs and get your cake. I love you, Steve Bambi Prett whatever just come downstairs."

Read on AO3 @harringroveweek

Billy proposed on New Year’s Day.

They were on the balcony of their San Diego apartment, listening to the celebration on the radio and waiting for the countdown, for the fireworks to start. Billy’s hand was safely in Steve’s, the other arm on Steve’s shoulder with a hand on his waist, and they danced, sort of. It was a slow, tip-toe of a waltz. They smiled with their heads dipped into each other’s necks, hearts in tune with the breeze.

“Surprised you’re still not sick of me.”

“You say that like I’m ever gonna be.”

Steve’s eyes sparkled in the city lights. Billy shrugged and said, “I don’t know. You might.”

“You’ve said that every year, and it’s still not true.”

With a sigh, he held Steve tightly to his chest, keeping their clasped hands down and to the side. “Why don’t I get to kiss you before midnight again?” he asked, grinning wide when Steve chuckled in his ear.

“Because then there’s no point! We might as well go to bed if you’re gonna kiss me anyway.”

“Mmm…” He scratched Steve’s back ever so lightly, rocking to the music, still waiting for the countdown.

“Just wait, babe, and then my lips are all yours.”

“For how long?”

“Until next year. I’ll make you wait even longer.”

So they laughed, and they swayed, and they kept close. Refilled their champagne flutes a few times before the radio cut out to start the charade before the clock would strike twelve. Billy’s heart was in his throat and stomach at the same time, furiously bouncing between the two like it would stop if it sat still for too long. Really, Billy felt like that too, which was why he never stopped moving his feet and kept his toes right by Steve’s to remember they were still there.

The radio announcer went on for far too long, and then there was another music performance. “Jesus Christ, be midnight already!” Billy yelled behind them, anxious to get this over with, to leave enough time to pick up the pieces of his heart if it were to break.

“Patience, baby,” Steve said, cheek pressed to Billy’s, teasing and promising something impossibly warm.

And then it began.

“Ten”—they counted together—“nine, eight, seven”—looked deeply into each other’s eyes, their lips, and held on tight—“six, five”—touched their noses together, which may have been cheating—“four, three, two”—but if it was, they didn’t care. “One!”

Finally, finally their lips met in the middle somewhere. Steve held Billy by the sides of his head, along his jaw, in his hair. “Happy New Year, baby.” Steve was so tender with his mouth, Billy couldn’t have gotten more lucky.

“Hey, hey,” he said, taking his hand away. “Steve.” He reached into his back pocket for the silver band he’d purchased over a month ago. “Marry me. Please.” Steve backed away then, hand still on Billy’s waist as he looked at the ring with shell-shocked doe eyes.

“Billy…”

“Please. I love you so much, Stevie. I don’t know what I’d do without you or where I’d be. You’re everything to me.” Fireworks sparked in the distance and looked over them in faded color. Red, pink, yellow, blue, white, green, gold—every color Billy was feeling, they gleamed in Steve’s eyes. “I’ve never loved anybody like I love you. I’ve—I’ve never known anybody like you, and I—“

“Baby, you’re shaking.” Steve whispered and held his hands, foreheads together, both focused on the ring as a rainbow reflected off of it too.

Billy chuckled airily. “Of course I’m fucking shaking. I’m nervous as shit, Steve.”

“Hey.” It was his turn to hold a trembling hand out, offering a part of himself that he’d given Billy a long time ago. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments, a flicker in time before Billy was sliding the ring onto Steve’s finger, and they were both overcome with fervent emotion. Steve hugged so hard that he almost went numb, and Billy’s arms found their way back around his waist. “Yes,” he said, and he laughed. “Yes.” Again, right into Billy’s ear, pressing kisses to his cheek and his jaw and temple. “Yes, yes, of course I’ll marry you, Billy,” he said, not because the answer was unclear, but he knew Billy would want to hear it anyway. “I love you so much. So much. So, so fucking much.”

Words failed Billy miserably, but the clutch he had on Steve’s back said it all for him. It sent his love in waves through a rapid pulse and shuddering breaths.

“Now you’re really never getting rid of me,” he said once he settled down.

And Steve told him, “Good, ‘cause I don’t want to.”

They went to bed as one.

For Billy’s birthday, after the small gathering with a few of their friends at his favorite restaurant, Steve took him out for some time alone. It wasn’t far from home. A pier that Billy went to as a kid that held more good memories than bad. A place he wanted to share with Steve the moment they set foot in California, and it was a place he loved dearly. Even more now with his fiancé, his one and only Steve Harrington, holding his hand down by the shore like they were in a movie.

After three months, they still hadn’t gotten Billy a ring. Not really, anyway, because money was tight, and he didn’t like Steve spending any on him regardless. So they’d picked out something nice together, barely one-hundred dollars: a slim metal band with leafy engravings that meant more to him than he knew how to say. Steve had been bursting at the seams, though not because he was particularly excited about the ring. Not that ring, anyway.

So he and Billy walked along with their fingers tied, carrying their shoes in the other hands, pressed up close in each other’s heat as shelter from the midnight frost. No champagne that night, but they didn’t need any.

“Kinda wish the moon was out,” Steve said. “I like when it, like, makes you glow. I don’t know.”

Billy laughed. “Shut up.” Before he knew it, Steve was stepping in front of him with a wider grin than he’d seen in a while. “Steve, come on, we’re almost at the end—“

“I know, but I don’t wanna wait.” Steve dropped his shoes and pulled Billy’s from his fingertips to drop right beside them. His free hand went to push the hair from Billy’s face, comb through it over his head as if it would stay in place. “Oh, you’ve still got some glow there, see? No, you can’t see…”

Years ago, he learned to let Steve do his thing of looking at whatever detail of Billy he’d picked out, and he still never quite knew what it was. His left eye, maybe, or the freckles on his cheek. Maybe Steve found a new shape in them and wanted to watch it morph into a hundred others. “What do you see this time?”

Steve smiled. “That little heart right there,” he said, poking his thumb over the spot on the height of Billy’s cheekbone.

“Oh, the heart, huh?” Steve nodded. “That’s been there a while.”

“Mmm, I wonder why,” he said and pressed a kiss to Billy’s freckle-heart, which he leaned into with ease. “Oh, look, there’s another one right here.” Kiss. “Aaand…” Kiss, kiss, kiss, all the way across Billy’s nose and to the other cheek before he got impatient and stole one for his lips.

“You’re such a dork.”

“And I will be for the rest of my days, so buckle up.”

They stood for a while longer, lost in each other’s eyes and hair and mouths as they kissed with the ocean to guide them. It pushed sand between their toes and tickled them all the way up to their heads. The longer they remained still, the harder Steve’s pulse rattled in his chest. He’d practiced the very words he was about to say, but it was so silly now. It felt silly, anyway. He didn’t have anything to be nervous about.

“How’s thirty treating you so far?”

“It’s okay,” Billy said with a loving smile.

“Did your wish come true?”

“What makes you think I wished for anything?”

“I mean… cake, candles… you’re supposed to make a wish on your birthday.”

“Mmm… I’ve never followed rules very well.”

“Like I don’t know that.” Something about this was familiar; they’d done it before, swaying against each other in the dark with stars twinkling overhead. This time, however, they had more room for Steve to pull away and lead Billy into a clumsy dip. They kissed over the water, then again when Billy was back upright. No music, no fireworks to break the silence of Billy’s favorite lifetime. “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this, but I dreamed about you in high school.”

“Yeah, you have. I did too.”

“No, but I didn’t tell you about the first one.”

“You remember it?”

“Of course I do.” There was a beat, and Billy nuzzled in with him closer. “It was after basketball. We were the only ones left in the locker room. You were dressed, but I wasn’t, and you looked right into my eyes. I didn’t know if I was dying or what, ‘cause after that you were all I thought about. My chest hurt so good. I wanted you to look at me like that again, and I kept trying get that dream back, but your eyes were closed in all the others. You always made me so nervous. Shit, you still do.” He laughed, and so did Billy, and he loved how Billy’s back moved under his hand.

“Good nervous now?”

“It was always good nervous. Must’ve been, or I wouldn’t have chased it so hard.” Billy breathed in deep and turned his head the other way, nose in Steve’s neck and arms around his shoulders, pulling him in as tight as he could. It gave them both goosebumps. “You make me so happy, Billy.”

It was muffled by skin and hair: “You make me happy, Stevie.”

“And it is officially no longer your birthday, so you can’t get annoyed at me for this.” He pulled away, looked down into Billy’s drowsy, confused eyes, and grinned.

“What? Annoyed about what?”

And it was mostly the way Steve had always dreamed of, getting down on one knee and holding Billy’s hand—with his little hundred-dollar ring—pretending that this was their first go-around. “Annoyed about me wanting to propose to you… put this little number on your finger.” The ring he pulled from his pocket was thick and dark, engraved on the inside (which he would show Billy later), and plain enough that Billy might just have accepted it. “Because, even though we’ve said a million times that marriage is for chumps and always sucks, and we’re practically married anyway, and blah blah blah—I saw you on that cruise with your hair trying to stay in place, and your shirt blowing in the wind so your little hip tattoo finally got some damn sun, I wanted to be able to call you my husband so fucking bad, Billy.”

“Steve—“

“And I know we’ve been over this. I know. But I’ve had this night on my mind for so, so long, and I have always wanted to say this stupid fucking line to someone and know it’d last. So just… I don’t know. Humor me, okay?” He held up the ring. “Billy Hargrove… light of my life… will you marry me?”

By then, Billy’s face was red hot and ruined with tears that started falling the moment Steve’s knee hit the sand and still rolled with no end in sight. “Dammit, get the fuck up, Steve,” he said, blubbering, fake-angry the way he got when he didn’t want to be seen. Steve laughed and let Billy pull him up by the collar of his shirt, kiss him with more fervor than their mouths were even capable of. “Yes. Yes, I’ll—fucking marry you—you sappy fucking dork. God.” It was even wetter with Billy’s tears in the way, so sweet that the salt didn’t stand a chance.

“Here, here, hold on.” Steve pulled away to slide the ring onto Billy’s finger, right up against the other one that maybe he’d keep, maybe he wouldn’t. That didn’t matter so much now.

“When did you even get this, what the hell—“

“… November.”

“November!”

“I had to get Robin to keep it for me after New Year’s, or I’d have scuffed this whole thing, and—“

“You really had this all figured out, didn’t you?” he asked, wiping tears and snot away with the rolled-down sleeve of his shirt.

“Yeah,” Steve told him softly, love in his eyes, relief on his back.

“God, you are something else, Harrington.”

“Not gettin’ rid of me now,” Steve said and, just before Billy got his word out, picked him up from under the ass and held him high.

“Steve!” He spun Billy around like it was nothing, kissed his cheek and chin and protesting lips. He laughed and said, “Steve, if you don’t put me down—“

“What are you gonna do? Not marry me?”

“No, but I’ll think of something.”

“Mhmm… whatever, I love you.”

Billy wrapped his legs around Steve’s waist, committed just as much as he was then. “Yeah, yeah. I love you too.”

And they sealed such love under the covers that night, where they could feel each other’s heat and never let it go. For Steve, going to bed sticky was a small price to pay if it meant his dreams of Billy would come true for the rest of his life.

[camaro-and-smokes]

August

Chapter 3: 8 ball

Warnings: none Tags: just fluff for this chapter

Author notes: In case someone is interested (you kinda need to to get some of the fic, sorry) some terminology for pool and 8 ball:

Cue stick = the stick you hit the cue ball with.

Cue ball = the white ball you hit the other balls with.

Pocketing = when you get any of the numbered balls into a pocket as planned.

Pockets = the pouches you try to get your balls fall into, two on each end and one on each side of the pool table.

Clearing a table = getting all your balls (7 balls + the black 8 last) pocketed by never losing a turn.

To ride a ball = hit the ball you want to pocket with another ball you’ve hit with the cue ball. You can ride as many balls you want as long as you won’t pocket the cue ball.

Links to other chapters on Chapter 1 post >>

Read on AO3 >>

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"Ok, one more!" Steve groaned. "Harrington, you're just a sore loser!" Billy grinned when he took the eight ball from the pocket after clearing the table for the third time that evening. "I told you I'll beat your ass, but you didn't listen." "I thought I was good but apparently it was just a question of time when I'd meet my match," Steve smiled. "We don't have to play more. Unless you want to? Do you want another beer?" "Uh, well, I was thinking I'd drive home, so maybe I'd better have a coke." Steve tapped the cue stick against his hand nervously and bit his lip. "Ok, I'll get you one," he said and went upstairs.

When he came back, Billy was pocketing balls one by one from the oddest, impossible angles. Steve watched him, impressed. "I think I was wrong. You're, like, seriously good. As in pro-level good." Billy smiled a wide smile with his tongue trapped between his teeth, and Steve could feel himself fall for the blonde some more.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go, Steve tried to remind himself. He was supposed to be driving this train, be in charge, and yet here he was, stupidly willing to do anything and everything to keep Billy happy and smiling, close to him for just for another moment longer. Just the idea of Billy leaving at some point made his heart ache.

"Here's your coke," Steve said as he set the can on the side table. He opened his own beer and watched Billy moving around the table planning the next shot, leaning the cue stick on his hand to aim and somehow pocketing each ball he aimed for. When Billy was aiming on a ball on Steve’s side of the table, he caught Steve looking at him with the same goofy grin he'd had in the car the previous weekend. He straightened himself. "Want to learn a trick?" "Sure," Steve said and took his stick in his hand. "Nah, I don't know how tell you but I can show you," Billy said. "Leave that and come here. I'll show you how you can ride more than one ball."

Steve walked to Billy, who set the balls on the table to demonstrate the trick. "Ok, so you want to pocket number one here," Billy said pointing the ball with number one that was closest to the side pocket. "But because the cue ball is here," he pointed at the white ball behind a group of other balls, "you can't hit it directly at all. So, you have no other option but to ride a few of the other balls to pocket the one. Right?" Steve nodded. "Now, take this and aim," Billy said and gave his cue stick to Steve. When Steve leaned down to aim, Billy leaned down himself on Steve's side and pointed the balls with his finger. "It will feel odd, but you have to aim at the middle one, number four, in order to get the ride rolling. No, not there, here," he said when he saw that Steve's aim was wrong, and reached his hand over Steve's shoulder on the end of the stick to correct it. "When you hit it, it will move and hit number six, which then will pocket the one." Steve hit the cue ball, it hit the four making it roll to the side, and hit six, which in turn made number one roll neatly into the side pocket, just like Billy said would happen. Steve turned to look at Billy, who's face was just inches away from his and looking back at him, smiling. "You have the bluest eyes I've ever seen," Steve heard himself say. Billy turned his gaze away as his cheeks blushed. "I really like you," was the second sentence that fell out of Steve's mouth without him thinking. To his own horror he kept going. "And if someone hasn't been able to see how amazing you are, they never deserved you in the first place." He immediately kicked himself mentally for maybe having one too many beers that had loosened his lips.

Billy let out a breath, and the perfect moment was gone, again. He straightened himself and walked to the side table and opened his coke. He took a sip and leaned to the pool table. Steve straightened up and set the stick on the table. He knew that Billy didn't want sweet nothings, and that was exactly what he had delivered. Or that was what they must've sounded like to Billy. Steve had meant every word. A nervous silence lingered in the air. "Please, don't leave, not yet," Steve asked quietly as he walked to Billy. He brushed the side of the table with his fingers nervously. “I didn’t mean...” Billy interrupted him. "You're too good to be true," he said looking down at the floor. "Pretty rich boy who goes to some IVY league school somewhere far away. Way above my class." Steve leaned to the table next to Billy. "It's some league I guess but not IVY for sure. It's in Chicago and it's cold as hell in the winter there. I hate it." "Why are you there then?" Steve had to think for a while because no one else had ever asked him before. "Because I'm supposed to, I guess. My parents pay for it, though I don't know what they expect me to become. I don't want to study business administration." "What do you want to study then?" "Marketing. Copywriting. Graphic design. Maybe." Billy glanced at Steve. "Well, can't you change the subject then?" "I honestly don't know," Steve said. “I guess I should find out.” "Glad that I'm not the only one confused." "It sucks that we should know already now what we want to do for the rest of our lives. I don't know what will happen over the next five minutes.” Billy smiled. "So. What would you like to happen over the next five minutes?” Steve took Billy's hand and interlaced their fingers. "I just want to be with you. And do whatever you like. Lean on this table for the rest of the night. I don't care, if it just means I can be near you." Billy looked at Steve and bit his lip. "If we, you know, have...would you still want to see me again?” "Yeah, I would. A thousand times." “Would you turn me down again?” Steve shook his head slightly. "No. But I also don't want you to think that we have to have sex. I really much would like to, but only if you want to. It's not required." "Is it ok if we just hang out?" "Yeah. If you want I can lose a few more rounds of eight ball to you too." Billy laughed, making Steve smile.

They did play few more rounds, and for the first time Billy felt that he wasn't being forced to do anything on a date. Not expected to act something he wasn't, or to follow rules he could only guess, or just hook up, or worst - give out just to be left hanging afterwards. And yet Steve seemed to have fun with him. Whenever he caught Steve looking at him with the goofy grin, he smiled, and every time it made Steve mess up his turn. It made Billy happy that the flirt was so innocent. Laughing together, holding hands, brushing gently against each other when they had to walk past each other around the pool table. That was it. He had very much liked what they had done the previous weekend, but he’d had another mindset back then. He had thought it to be just another...something. Now he felt that he was allowed to be himself on a date for the very first time.

It was close to two am when Billy looked at his watch. "I guess I should go." "Ok," Steve said and collected the balls from the pockets and set them on the table. "I'll walk you out." When they got to the hall and to the front door, Billy turned to look at Steve. "This was fun." Steve smiled. "Yeah, it was. I will not forget losing almost every game tonight." "Well, someone had to put you on your place, pretty boy," Billy smiled mischievously. Steve couldn't help but to smile. He felt himself falling for Billy, hard. "Hey, listen, what are you doing tomor..." Billy interrupted Steve by taking his chin into his hand and kissing him. The kiss was gentle, at first. But it got hungrier. Soon Billy's both hands were in Steve's hair and Steve's hands under Billy's jacket, tracing the back rim of his jeans, not daring to push his hand underneath it to not to scare Billy. When Billy broke the kiss, but instead of showing signs of leaving, kept looking Steve in the eyes, Steve couldn't help but to ask: "Should we continue this...?" Billy smiled and nodded. Steve let out a shaky breath, took Billy's hand, and led him into his room.

[prettytm]

It never occurs to him that his dearly beloved husband has no true memory of him. Oh, the soldier was well in his cups that night, as they say, but he'd stood unswaying before the judge he and Aunt Queen had roused at that ungodly hour at Quinn's belligerent insistence, and signed without hesitation the beauty of his name over the certificate that would be filed later at more proper hours. Naturally, Quinn knows nothing of Marine training— not that his husband can fish himself out of upside-down helicopters submerged in water, nor withstand torture and interrogation for days on end, or more importantly fake passable sobriety at the drop of a hat and carry on as though not impaired at all. They certainly didn't have long enough together to discuss how much of a regular thing this was for him and his ilk.

And that Quinn doesn't write now that he is away is a matter of understanding. The law may change on paper, but as a true born and raised southerner he knows too well the difference between that and changing minds, hearts, and attitudes. He would not further endanger a life for which he already lights a candle nightly. Bad enough his husband should have bullets whizzing at him and all manner of artillery... enemies... things beyond Quinn's ken and comprehension; he hardly needs the dagger in the back of a letter in what some may see as an effiminate hand and yet signed with a name that does not match it. What sonnets he longs to recite to him by the music of night time cicadas will simply have to wait until they are joined by leave once again. Alone in privacy again.

Oh, but Quinn does not let his longing go to waste. He uses it for fuel and fills his time making up the third best suite in the house for them. He fills the room nightly with fresh cut flowers, that their scent fill it and impregnate every brand new coat of paint, wallpaper, and layer of crisp white bedding that is brought in and put up. It may yet be a year before he lays eyes on his husband again, but when he does it will be to bring him home to a bower that will fill his lungs with every breath full of jasmine and honeysuckle and all the fragrant flowers Louisiana has to offer. He fills his side of their ensuite with beard oils, shaving lotions, and a collection of straight razors straight from the Nordstrom in Baton Rouge; his side of the closet with Purple Label ties by Mr. Lauren, flown in from New York, hung up neatly across from linen suits in a rainbow of pastel shades for daywear and local appearances— lunch with Aunt Queen and perhaps a drive down to New Orleans again... and darker suits too, stiffer heavier things for more formal affairs, should they have the luxury of them in whatever amount of time home his calling gives him. There are shoes to buy too! From Italy and Germany, and British wools to fill drawers with— never to mention a bevy of simple white underclothes and casual wear from Wal-Mart. The little things, to be thought of specifically so Billy needn't bother wasting a moment of his time on them, nor a hair on his pretty head worrying about it. And if he has his preference, they won't need bother with clothes for the night... only robes for modesty's sake in the morning, should anyone come calling at their bedroom door.

Goblin too participates. He puts his own touches and suggestions into the grand old mix, whispering in Quinn's ear the things gleaned from Billy in their singular night together. Likes. Dislikes. Bits and pieces of the Pontchartrain hotel admired and envied and desired. He is a man of taste, his husband, if Goblin's secret knowledge of his thoughts is true— and when hasn't it been? All the finery that Billy could want is theirs to give and happily so. Finally a joyful reason for the happy accident of having been born into wealth; to spend it alll on the most beautiful man he'd ever laid eyes on. To hopefully light those impossibly dark eyes of his with terribe wicked sinful happiness. Even Sweetheart and Aunt Queen become giddy accomplices to his loving mission, glad for him, even relieved probably. Nevermind the immediacy of it all, how terribly drastic the plummet into love had been. Passion just worked like that and when you knew, you knew. They too wait with nearly as bated breath as he does. Pops says little about it except to give his quiet blessing with a ruffle of hair and later... when the mail comes in forwarded from New Orleans, from their dear friend the judge, to promise to handle things with discretion for Quinn. Quinn who has never seen a tax-form in his life nor has any precious idea what to do with it or any of the other plethora of paperwork apparently involved.

When he wakes the following morning, a drumline stomping and banging away inside his head, he finds himself in the fanciest hotel room he's ever seen and a new weight on his right hand. The first few minutes he spends fighting dizziness and nausea he pays no attention to why when he moves his hand it feels different. Had he slept on it wrong? Was it just numb from sleep? He doesn't know. He doesn't care. The room, as pretty as it was, was spinning violently out of control and he has to grasp down on the sheets to keep from making a mess.

When everything has settled and he feels more like a person again.. He's able to take stock in himself and the room around him. And he finds.. He needs a heavy drink. There's a wedding ring on his finger, a sparkling diamond that should belong to a bride and not a newly trapped groom.

Fuck. Castle was never going to let him live this down.

He has no memory of the night before, he could barely recall what had happened before Gunner brought out the moonshine just that at some point, against Billy's better judgement he had been dared into tempting fate.

Now here he was. Married. Apparently. And missing a wife.

Fuck.

The morning is uneventful, aside from fighting a headache and a mean case of nausea, oh and the ring on his finger. There's no paperwork, there's nothing else to give any indication that the sparkling monstrosity on his finger meant anything. There's nothing. And for weeks after, once he's returned to base and his unit, there's still nothing. Until one morning his commanding officer demands answers.

Answers he doesn't know how to give. But finally there's a marriage license, followed by even more paperwork the government demanded to have filled out.

Still.

No wife. Not even a hint of one. He has no idea what to do, his unit wasn't the least be helpful. He's left talking it out with a lawyer state side. Trying to figure out what he wants to do. Divorce seems like the perfect answer and they paperwork is filed and sent. And retuned to him. With a violently red "Never" Across the first page and the rest was covered in flowery love letter in that crimson ink. That gets a refreshed round of laughter from the guys. And leaves Billy even more unclear on how to handle this situation.

He doesn't have a name too go on beside Quinn. "I hold a dramatic and romantic concept of life; What doesn't touch my sense means nothing to me, Quinn." As his mysterious bride soon becomes known as. It's a mouthful and yet.. Each man in his unit have their memorized and quote it to him daily. And there were bets on where Billy The Beaut landed himself a model or a hag. They started putting money on it. He threatens them all with voodoo whenever he makes it back to New Orleans.

Truly he hates them all.

Still he's no closer to know a damn thing about her and their supposed marriage. He needed answers and he needed them fast. So he forwards his lawyer a letter and hopes something comes from it.

[justmoreocs-writing]

Darkened alleyways were a staple of the city. No place for anyone to wander alone, least of all in the middle of the night. And yet, that was exactly what A.J. was doing. High above, shining brightly silver through clouds and the constant smog of the city, the moon acted as her compass point. As long as it stayed in sight, she knew there was a way back should she need it. Knew that she hadn’t strayed too far into the darkness of the city’s underbelly.

Movement out the corner of her eye set off every internal alarm A.J. had trained herself to listen to. Still, she wasn’t quick enough. An arm pinned her own to her sides, forced her back flush against the chest of her assailant. The cold sting of metal against her throat was an unnecessary yet habitual threat.

‘The Labyrinth ain’t a place for a nice young lady to be walking alone,’ a voice whispered.

‘Good thing I ain’t a nice young lady then, isn’t it?’ A.J. countered, shifting ever so slightly. A saccharine smile slipped easily onto her face when her attacker was in view, however limited.

No matter how many people were scared of William Yates, renowned criminal king of the back alleys, he would always be Billy to her. Her friend who told her stories of highwaymen and pirates when she couldn’t sleep. The boy who had helped her fight off her own nightmares, as if that might help stop his own from creeping up on him.

The knife was removed in an instant, the arm across holding her close lingered though. ‘Amy, I’m serious.’

A.J. quickly stepped away from Billy. In the dim light of the alley it was still easy to see how blond his hair was from a day in the sun; a day pretending he wasn’t the young man so many were afraid of. In the light of day, he was just another person living his life. Even this late, it was possible to make out the blue of his eyes as they skittered across her face, checking for signs of distress. His expression, usually a mask of cold indifference that was occasionally more threatening than any violence, was that of grave concern.

‘So am I,’ she assured him. ‘Or do you forget who trained me?’ She cocked her head to one side, noticed him flinch ever so slightly. Everyone knew Bruce. It was impossible not to, and the reminder of her tutor in all things self-preservation was not one he needed. ‘Anyway, who’d do anything if I threw your hat into the ring?’

Billy groaned, slipped his knife safely back into the sheath on his hip. Still, his eyes were watchful around the back alleys, taking in everything. ‘Pretty sure my name alone doesn’t stop a knife in the back.’

‘But they’d feel really bad about it.’

‘Amy,’ he complained, but she heaved a sigh; held her hands up in mock surrender.

‘All right,’ she conceded. ‘Next time I want to see my best friend, I’ll leave a message with your secretary. How’s Ramsey doing?’

A soft scoff, a little of the tension having ebbed away from the line of Billy’s shoulders, was enough to assure her she’d gauged the situation right.

‘You know, getting a secretary wouldn’t be so bad,’ Billy said, nodding briefly down the alleyway, allowing her to walk a little ahead of him. ‘They’d be able to get rid of people I didn’t want to see, right?’

‘You can do that all by yourself,’ she teased, glancing back at him knowingly. But, before he could even attempt to defend his criminal honour, she turned her attention to the lighter in her pocket. ‘You’re not too busy to go for a walk with your friend, are you?’

‘For you Amy, never,’ he assured her, moving to walk a little closer to her side, all the while giving her the space she needed. And she needed this now more than before. Needed to be with someone simple, someone who understood. Because despite everything Billy was that for her. Someone that she didn’t have to act around, and she hoped she was that kind of respite for him, too.

[lebenspurpur]

showering with the slashers

|Michael| (SFW)

You will need months to convince him to shower with you. He is surprisingly insecure and shy when it comes to nudity and especially taking off his mask. In the beginning he will even leave it on until he realizes that the steam plus the hot water are making it impossible to keep it on.

After he decides to join you he will ask for one every day. I mean he won't ask verbally he'll just stand in the bathroom when you shower until you invite him in.

Most of the time he will just place himself underneath the stream of water like a statue and let you shampoo his hair. If he's feeling generous, he will do the same for you and give you a little head massage. Michael will always use your soap since it smells like you but obviously this idiot won't ever admit that.

His favorite are showers in the evening because he adores laying in bed after a long, hot shower. Those are also one of the rare times where he actually allows cuddling.

|Vincent Sinclair| (SFW)

Vincent prefers bathing over showering. Though he won't say no to a shower.

It will definitely take him a while to gain the confidence to join you. In the beginning he'll turn his back towards you so you won't see his face. Show him love and appreciation and he might open up a little.

Vincent loves dealing with your hair. Obviously he has like 15 different hair products even though he rarely uses them. Now he can use them on you.

If you shampoo his hair he is in heaven. Imagine him underneath a stream of water lovingly gazing into your eyes while you softly trace his scalp with your fingertips. I love him, what can I say.

He will dry your hair himself and then gladly put lotion on your body. Such a sweetheart. Afterwards he likes cuddling while watching something together.

|Bo Sinclair| (NSFW)

You won't even notice when Bo enters the bathroom. He just suddenly stands behind you, arms wrapping around your upper body and his lips attached to your neck.

After a passionate make-out session he might wash your body. He likes to use his soap since that's a sign that you're his. As if the marks he leaves weren't enough.

Normally the shower is one of the rare places where he expresses his real emotions because nobody except for you will see them there. So expect lots of praising while his soapy, calloused hands trace your hips with such tenderness, you don't even recognize him.

Afterwards he'll either make you dirty again ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) or he'll lay on your chest, relaxing after a long day.

|Lester Sinclair| (SFW)

Yes Y/N, he'll gladly shower with you! He will take good care of you and that's a promise.

You'll always be glad when he showers with you since, let's be honest, he smells like rotten road kill. If your soft hands go over his scarred and exhausted body he cant' help but stare at you fondly.

I feel like Lester would try to make bubbles with soap in his hand. Or make a beard out of foam. He always tries to make you let out that adorable laugh of yours, what'd you expect?

After showering he'll wrap you up in his arms and tell you about his day. Whenever he chuckles about a funny memory a deep rumble can be felt in his chest. It never fails to make your heart grow warmer. As soon as you fall asleep he presses a soft kiss to your forehead and tucks you under the covers.

|Baby Firefly| (SFW)

Baby will always invite herself in the bathroom as soon as you're comfortable with that. Her soft hands will softly massage your shoulders and back and you can feel the knots and tight spots slowly relaxing.

But don't be foolish, she expects a massage as well. Baby values fairness so every action of her has a price. Not that you mind.

Baby's soap smells like cotton candy and fits her aesthetic wonderfully. Sometimes you'll steal a little bit for yourself.

I also believe that Baby likes to sing in the shower. According to my personal opinion one of Baby's big passions is music. Her sweet voice will be loud and clear and if you look at her she'll wink at you and smile.

After you're done she'll gladly let you brush her hair. Since the mane of hers often doesn't do what she wants it to do she gladly accepts help. If you put a hair product in her hair while softly clearing the knots she'll close her eyes while humming faintly.

|Otis Driftwood| (NSFW)

Otis is very similar to Bo when it comes to showering. Though he is also surprisingly shy. Not because of his body, more because of your feelings. Do you really want him in the shower?

After he gets over those thoughts he'll slip behind you every now and then, his big hands caressing your ass, scaring the shit out of you. If you shriek or jump he'll just chuckle and continue raking his hands over your naked form.

Even though he pretends like he doesn't like it, he loves if you wash his hair. Come on have you seen that mane? It needs some serious care and especially good conditioner. It's also dyed (I refuse to believe that his natural hair color is white.) so a good wash is long overdue.

Afterwards he'll gladly lay in bed with you while reading or discussing things. I believe that Otis also enjoys reading stories to his partner. After all you can discuss them with him later.

|Billy Loomis| (NSFW)

Are you kidding? Of course he'll shower with you!

His eyes plus hands will never leave your naked body, prepare for him just being horny. Yes Y/N, he'd love to put soap on your body. What do you mean not just on your chest and ass?

Eventually he'll grow tired of just looking at you. His hands will be all over your body soon, his lips attached to your chest leaving little marks.

If he's tired he'll oblige to your charm and wash your body without being naughty. Afterwards he'll just silently hold you close while the hot water engulfs both of you. I mean mostly him but his body will keep you warm.

|Stu Macher| (SFW)

Stu enjoys every activity he can do with you on his side.

He'll gladly massage your back, pressing little kisses to your shoulder plate. His hands will be so soft when they rub soap all over your wet form.

He loves when you try to wash him but fail because you're too small. He'll steal a kiss or two when you try and reach him by standing on your tip toes.

After all the cleaning is finished he will wrap his strong arms around you and press his chest against your back, humming fondly. He'll close his eyes and softly let the water flow over your connected bodies.

|Brahms Heelshire| (NSFW)

Brahms hates cleaning. No matter how. You will have to coax him into the shower by showering with him. It's really the only time when he ever showers.

Don't expect him to actually wash himself. You can do that Y/N. Such a malicious little gremlin. As soon as your hands touch him he'll put his head on your shoulder and start whispering very naughty things. Y/N you're torturing him, what is he supposed to do?

Okay so there might not be a lot of cleaning. If you really want him to be clean you will have to use a punishment or coax kind of strategy. No good night kiss for Brahms if he doesn't clean himself I guess. God he will be so whiny. Brahms is going to pout for days after this.

Afterwards he still wants your attention. Y/N wasn't he a good boy? He deserves a reward doesn't he?

|Josef| from the creep series (SFW)

Shower? With him? You really want that? Eh.. okay.

He'll be a bit insecure, Josef isn't used to receiving adoration. As soon as you start putting soap on his body he visibly relaxes and sighs softly. He loves being touched, yet he never asks for it.

Afterwards he'll always want to shower with you. Please just touch him some more.

Josef will happily return the favor. His touches will be very soft and tender, he doesn't want you to feel any kind of uncomfortable or scared.

After showering he will rub lotion on your warm skin, he wants it to be healthy Y/N!

Josef will also prepare a healthy meal. Food is important Y/N and god he loves cooking for you. His body in new clothes, smelling like aftershave, wet hair in a bun, singing quietly while he makes roasted vegetables. Please wrap your arms around his torso. He will nearly faint.

|Thomas Hewitt| (SFW)

It will take him a while, mainly because of the mask. However coaxing works quite good so he might give in after you bribe him a little.

Tommy is going to wash your hair very precisely, not wanting to cause knots. He knows how hot in can get in Texas as well which leads him to move away from the refreshing water, leaving you more space. He's just very considerate, compared to other slashers (ehem, Bo.).

Please wash his hair, he'd feel so special. Especially if it's your own shampoo.

After showering he'll wrap you in his strong arms and nuzzle his face in your neck, mask off. Do whatever you want Y/N, he's just glad he can lay next to you right now.

[kingbabydollbilly]

Angel In The Devil’s Nest

A/N:  This is a bit of a heavy one, ya’ll.  Read through the warnings and view at your own discretion.

Word Count: 2.6k

WARNINGS:  Neil Hargrove, blood, violence, abuse, swearing, death

Another hopeless night was happening at the Hargrove residence.  Neil came home stumbling in the door drunk off his ass, a bottle still in hand.  He was so gone that a dribble of booze was trickling down his chin as he walked inside.  Billy’s blood ran cold when he heard the loud slamming of the front door, not expecting him to be back for hours.  Neil wasn’t supposed to be home until eleven at night, yet he returned just shy of six in the afternoon.  Not only was Billy afraid of what was to come from his father’s drunken hands, he was terrified because the girlfriend his dad showed so much hatred for and claimed to be nothing but a worthless whore was sitting in his bedroom.  He normally refused to bring her around his house, afraid of what his father was capable of doing, but he was so sure today that he wasn’t going to be there.  Even so, Neil was home, she was there, and Billy had to find a way to conceal her until he could get her out of the house safely.  He was positioned in the kitchen when Neil walked in looking for a snack to grab for his hungry girlfriend.  What was even scarier for him was that she was completely unaware of Neil’s presence in the house and could walk out of his bedroom in ignorance at any given point.  Billy knew he had to either get her out before his dad figures it out, or get him out somehow before she realizes.

“The fuck are you looking at?”  Neil scolded, his words slurring to become almost unrecognizable.

“Finding somethin’ to eat.  Why are you here?”  Billy said flatly.

“Why am I here?  What kind of st-stupid question is that?  This is my fuckin’ house, I’ll come and go as I please.”

“I just….”  Billy ran a hand through his golden curls.  “I just meant I thought you were going to be out until way later.”

“Hm.  Bar was a shit hole.  Better off getting wasted on my couch.”  

Neil shook one of his arms out of his jacket, the other still holding the bottle of beer.  He walked over to a side table next to the living room couch, steps wobbly and unstable.  The glass bottle then left his hand and was placed on the table, the condensation quickly coating the wood underneath it.

“You know, I could ask you the same question, Billy.”  Neil grumbled, plopping himself roughly down onto the couch, then shaking his other arm out of his jacket.

“Ask me what?”

“For fucks sake, you are stupider than I thought, kid.”

Billy looked down at the floor, standing in silence.

“Seriously, I gotta fuckin’ spell it out for you?”  Neil continued berating his son, sighing heavily when he didn’t respond.  “You asked me why I was here.  So, let me ask you….why. The fuck.  Are you here?  It’s a Saturday night, don’t you have some skank to get up inside?”

Billy’s face visibly cringed.  He regretted everything about the reputation he had built for himself before he met his current girlfriend.  Every weekend, hell, sometimes every other day, he would find one of the girls who threw themselves at him like they were nothing more than meat and……become acquainted with them.  When he was done, he would leave and never speak to them again.  During that time, the females he associated with were disposable.  He never cared about any of them even slightly.  All that was before he met her.  Never in a million years did he ever think he would meet someone he viewed as worth his time.  There was something about watching her cuss out the asshole jock Jason Carver in the middle of the school cafeteria in front of everyone and not giving a single shit about who was watching that intrigued him.  The fire lacing her voice and the way she looked so intimidating yet so soft at the same had him hooked from the second he witnessed the whole thing.  Ever since he managed to get her to give him the time of day, and eventually did the impossible and asked her to be his official girlfriend, he hasn’t given sleeping with another woman a second thought.  There’s not a damn thing he would do to betray her and there’s definitely nothing he wouldn’t do for her.

“I don’t do that anymore, dad.”  Billy answered, still looking down at the floor.

“Ohhhhhh yeahhhh, that’s right.”  Neil grabbed the arm of the couch and helped himself up into a standing position.  “I almost forgot.  You’ve got that other whore now.  Stuck with her, huh?”

“Don’t say that.”  Billy’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“What did you say?  Care to repeat that?”  Neil stepped closer to his son.

“Don’t….don’t call her that.”

Neil stared at Billy, unresponsive to his son defending his significant other.

“What?”  Billy broke the silence.

“You’re feeling awfully ballsy today, William.”

Billy scrunched his nose at the name; it was something only his father called him, knowing how much he hated it.  Neil would do anything to scrape away at any ounce of peace he had.  Anything to get under his skin and get a reaction out of him.  It was like he was always looking for an excuse to hurt him.

“What, nothing to say now?”  His father brought his face mere inches away from his and Billy instinctively backed up a step.  “I knew you were nothin’ but a pussy.  Get the fuck out.”  Neil scoffed.

Billy stood there, stunned, too afraid to move.  Get out?  Go where?  He wasn’t about to leave his still unsuspecting girlfriend alone in his house with his dad.  Over his dead body.

“No.”  His voice was weak.

“Excuse me?  Did you just tell me no?  I said get. The fuck.  OUT!!”

Billy’s head snapped to the side, his cheek stinging from Neil’s hand harshly coming down on it.  There would surely be a bruise there in the morning.  Great, yet another mark he would have to cover up and hide by picking a fight with some kid at school.  Who would suspect that his own dad beats him up if half of the school sees somebody getting a punch in?  He thought for a moment about what poor soul he would choose for such a deed before something grabbed his attention.  A familiar creaking of his bedroom door crept up into his ears.  

“Fuck.”  Billy closed his eyes, whispering under his breath.

“What was that, boy?  Somethin’ the matter?”

“Hey, Billy are you still-”  Billy’s girlfriend stopped dead in her tracks.  “Oh, um….hello Mr. Hargrove…..I didn’t know you were here.”  She swallowed thickly.

Neil let out a concerning laugh.

“Oh, I get it now.  You didn’t want to leave because you were hiding your whore of the week in your room.”

With her presence now being the main focus of the situation, Billy’s tolerance was getting lower, his anger growing higher.  One wrong move from his father and he would be ready to burst.  He no longer cared or worried about forming more bruises on his body or the potential short streams of blood that might roll down his face that night.  His entire demeanor shifted to that of an attack dog, ready to defend the one he loved.

“So, I’ll say it again, kid.  Get.  The.  Fuck.  OUT!!”

“Fucking make me.”  Billy taunted.

With those words, Neil grabbed the collar of Billy’s shirt and started to drag him towards the front door.  His girlfriend stood frozen in shock, her hands flying up to cover her mouth.  Instead of immediately opening it to shove him out, Neil roughly shoved his son’s body into the hard door.

“You will do what the hell I say!”  Neil screamed inches away from Billy’s face, small strings of spit flying into the air.

“You can’t make me fucking leave!”  Billy shouted back.

Billy glanced over Neil’s shoulder at his girlfriend, who now had tears streaming down her face.  She was still being as quiet as a mouse.  He knew she was absolutely petrified and this only added more fuel to the fire.  In a burst of confidence, Billy grabbed his father’s collar, just as he had done to him, and flipped him around so he was now the one pushed against the door.  Neil couldn’t believe his eyes.  Never has his son really fought back against his abuse.  He didn’t know what to do, and this enraged him further.  His fists went flying at Billy.  Several were able to connect with his face and chest, knocking him to the floor.

“Stop!  Mr. Hargrove, please, stop!!”  Billy’s girlfriend cried out, rushing forward to his fallen form.

“Baby, go back in my bedroom and lock the do-”

Before Billy could finish his sentence, terror replaced the air in his lungs.  The disturbing fearful scream coming from his girlfriend was all he could hear.  In a terrifyingly fast ten seconds, Neil was able to grip her arms and rip her away from Billy, throwing her into the glass coffee table in front of the couch like she was a rag doll.  The glass surface completely shattered, both small and large pieces embedding themselves in her skin.

For the first time in his life, Billy was truly stunned in a fight.  He felt as if his entire world just went crashing down.  The room that just seconds before was filled with growling yells and blood curdling screams was so silent you could hear a pin drop onto the carpet.  Somehow, Neil himself even seemed surprised.  

“What….what did you do?”  Billy blinked hard several times, trying to get the burning sweat to disappear from his eyes.  “Why…..why the FUCK WOULD YOU DO THAT?!?”

Neil didn’t know what hit him.  Billy flew up from his position on the floor and lunged at his dad, shoulder first.  He channeled a new found strength and lifted him into the air by his waist, slamming him back down onto the ground.  He was out cold.  

Now that the threat was out of the picture for the time being, Billy rushed over to his girlfriend, who was lying unconscious in a pile of glass.  Not only was she on top of it, glass also surrounded her and was mixed into the strands of hair that came loose from her ponytail during the attack.  All he saw was the shine and shimmer of shards….and blood.  A large portion of the broken glass was coated in crimson.  

“Baby?  Baby, come on.  Wake up!”  Billy shook her shoulders gently.  “God, you’re fucking….blo-blood….”  He shook her again, rougher this time.  “Baby, come on!  Wake the fuck up!”

The silence was piercing.

Billy hurried over to the phone hanging on a wall in his kitchen, dialing the number of the only person he thought could help.

“Yeah?”  A gruff voice answered.

“Hopper!  Hop!!  FUCK!  I need-she needs-FUCK!!!”  Billy couldn’t find the words.

“Woah, woah, woah.  What’s going on, kid?”  Hopper’s voice was stern.

“Please!  I’m at-I’m at my house….my dad hurt her, Hop!  He fucking hurt her!!”  

“I’m coming, stay put.”

Billy didn’t bother hanging up the phone, he dropped it and let it swing into the wall and dangle in place.  He ran back over to his girlfriend, limping past the intense pain from Neil’s hits that was beginning to make itself known.

“Baby, please, why aren’t you waking up?!?”  

Billy could barely see with the amount of tears fogging up his eyes and straining his vision.  What he could see, though, was the most likely answer to his question.

Her head.

He carefully put his hand underneath her skull and felt the back of it.  His palm almost instantly became filled with blood as he felt a small dent that most definitely should not have been there.

“GOD, NO!!”  His voice was broken into heavy sobs.  “No, no, no, no, no, no.”  

In an act of desperation, Billy lifted his girlfriend’s limp form and cradled her body into his chest, ignoring the shards of glass that were starting to penetrate his legs.

“You’re okay.  You’re okay.  You’re okay.  You….you have to be okay!”  He was rocking her back and forth now.  “Don’t you fucking leave me!  Don’t you fucking do it!”

Billy almost didn’t hear the sound of sirens and his front door being kicked open over his loud sobbing.  It was almost inaudible and he was startled when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, kid.  Come on, let her go.  We gotta get her to a hospital.”  Hopper spoke as softly as he could to the destroyed boy.

He said nothing, only loosened his grip on her, allowing Hopper to swiftly grab her and run her out the door over to the ambulance waiting outside.  Billy felt as if his feet were heavy boulders.  His ears rang, his skin was numb.  How the fuck was this happening?  He thought he heard Hopper calling out for him but he wasn’t sure.  It sounded unusually faded and distorted.  He then wasn’t certain if the police chief running towards him was real or an illusion.  A hallucination, even.  Hopper’s voice got farther and farther away as he moved closer.

And then there was black.

_____________________________________________________

The black began to dissipate and fill with little spots of light, ever so slowly growing into large pools.  By the time the darkness was finally gone, fluorescent lights invaded Billy’s sensitive eyes.

“What….what….the hell.”  Billy tried to speak but his voice was hoarse.

“Hey, kid.”  

Hopper?

“What….you…here….?”

“I’m here to make sure you ended up alright.”  Hopper admitted.

Billy’s eyes were painfully squinting, the light feeling overwhelming.  He lightly blinked, widening his eyelids a little bit each time, trying to force himself to adjust to the violating white lights.

“Where’s….where’s….”  Billy groaned as he did his best to prop himself up straighter, resting his bruised back against the hospital bed.  “Where is she?”

The longer silence filled the air, the more Billy was fearing the worst.

“Hop.  Where……is she?”  The boy’s strained voice sounded like gravel scraping his throat.

The sigh that Hopper made was a type that Billy had never heard come from him before.

“Billy….I’m so sorry.  They did all they could.  It….it was too much….for her.”

Cold.  All he felt was cold.  Any warmth he had within himself was stolen.  A fate worse than death, in his mind.  Nothing could compare to the numbness he felt.  It…..it couldn’t be real.  A million thoughts shot through his head.  Was the only person he ever came to love….gone?  The ONLY fucking girl to EVER show actual true love and care for him?  The one whose touch was silk, whose….whose laugh was the calming sound of a light rain, whose gaze was sparkling glitter, whose smell was vanilla and lemonade on a hot summer day…..gone.

Billy’s world really did end that day.  His heart and soul was ripped away from him without a second thought.  Like….like she was trash.  Dirty trash thrown into a heap of rubble.  She suffered an end like that while his father escaped and was on the run.  He could have been literally anywhere doing anything and she was going to be in the ground.  He could be somewhere enjoying the puff of a cigarette, wasting his breath on the cancer inducing chemicals, while she had none to breathe at all.  

Her funeral was typical, as far as funerals go.  Her parents sobbed heartbreaking cries, her friends shed all the tears in their bodies, and then there was the token group of people who claimed to be close with her or friends at all with her but in reality probably didn’t even know her last name.  He sat a row away from her parents, too ashamed to face them.  In that moment, he truly felt lost.  Weak.  And upon seeing her lifeless face in the open casket, he vowed to her that he would find Neil; and take his revenge.

[milliesfishes]

so yk how there has been a lot of you or your kid getting kidnapped WHAT IF instead, it was Billy or Coryo that got kidnapped and like you want to go out and hunt down those who would even THINK about taking your man away from you but like maybe you can't because you have your daughter to take care of or you have other responsibilites

just didn't know if anyone has thought of this yet but anyways I LOVE YOU SM MILLIE ❤️❤️❤️ !! KEEP UP THE GREAT WORK!!!

omg I love you!!!!! this is so sweet, please rp with your own thoughts on it if you want to! ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚𝓫𝓲𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓲𝓼 𝓴𝓲𝓭𝓷𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓭⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 𝓯𝓮𝓶 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝔁 𝓫𝓲𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓴𝓲𝓭

He was taken.

Those are the words emerging from the mouth of one of Billy's men, the words you're hearing. But they are some of the last ones you've ever wanted to hear.

You nearly drop the baby perched on your hip, stunned into stiffened pose. The man before you appears nervous, and you thank him for delivering the information before retreating inside the house.

In your husband's line of work, danger lurked around every corner, breathed down the necks of everyone he loved. It revealed itself in the form of men with sneers painted on their lips, in anxieties whispered into your ear late in the throes of the night by your lover. Though he was the picture of a fearless protector, he was scared.

Billy's fear never was directed at himself. No, he only sook to protect you, you and your daughter named for his mother. The arrival Kathleen, Kat as he called her, had only heightened his protective instincts, spurring them into action.

Your home was a location of utmost secret, known only by a select few of his gang when it was absolutely necessary. He guarded you and your daughter under lock and key, determined to keep you hidden from any sign of danger even hinting in your direction.

But he hadn't been attentive enough toward himself. And now your stomach was plummeting as you imagined Billy bound and gagged in a dark location, gun removed from his side, blood spattering his face.

Kat babbled, tugging on a strand of your hair, and you looked down at her again, breaths shallow. She had dark hair just the same as Billy's, winding into stubborn curls. And her eyes... the color of forget-me-nots, just like his.

The one desire at the forefront of your mind was one to mount your horse and ride north, where the man had said your husband was being held. Under Billy's tutelage, you were proficient in gunslinging, and your small size was an advantage in a fight, he'd said.

With the amount of pain and passion you felt right now, taking on an army of a thousand men was child's play. For your love, the father of your child, there was hardly a thing you wouldn't do to see him return home safe. To be nestled in his arms soundly as he assured you that everything was okay.

But as you looked down at Kat, you knew you didn't have a prayer of leaving. Billy wouldn't want you to abandon your daughter to come running after him, no matter how much danger he was in. Having to choose between your husband and your daughter was an impossible road you hoped you would never be forced to venture down again.

For the rest of your waking hours, you did your best to stay distracted, entertaining Kat to the best of your ability and hiding any sign of fear or worry from her bright eyes. No need for you to know her beloved father was twisted in the web of fate once again, in a danger you could hardly imagine.

Putting her to bed, you kissed Kat goodnight, watching her sleepy eyes flutter shut, tiny fist clutching the corner of her favorite blanket. Turning around, you shut the door behind you, hand flying to your mouth as your eyes squeezed shut, tears escaping despite the motion. Stifling the awful sob you wanted to release, your chest tightened and horrifying thoughts played before your eyes in the form of images you prayed would never come to life.

Your Billy was strong and steadfast, and he was more than capable of handling himself. He'd done it all those years before settling down with you after all; gotten himself into life-threatening conundrums and emerging virtually unscathed.

What if this is the one time out of a hundred?

Stumbling to your bedroom, you were helpless once the door was shut, closing your own arms around yourself in an attempt at comfort and dissolving into tears. The way your body shuddered crescendoed into a quiet cry, eluding your attempts to keep quiet as not to disturb Kat. The last thing she needed was a desolate mother.

You had the foolish thought that maybe now that your baby was asleep you could make your way in Billy's direction, but it was quickly reasoned with. What if she woke up and needed you? What if you never came back?

Helplessly, you brought yourself over to the bed, collapsing into the warmth of Billy's side. His scent engulfed you, making it nearly plausible to pretend he was there. Beside you, about to sheath you in his arms and mutter that he'd been wanting to hold you all night.

Minutes disguised themselves as hours, tormenting you with the length of them. Every second was like squeezing honey from a bottle, watching the thick golden drops lazily make their way down the side, in no hurry to appear when you wanted them to.

Surely his gang had infiltrated where he was being held. And now they might be cutting his ropes, tossing him a gun and telling him to hurry on home. It was a childish fantasy. The rope of possibility had tendrils that wove into a thousand different destinies. The chances of everything happening your way were slim to none, and you braced yourself for news that he wasn't ever going to come back.

Any minute now the same bearer of bad news from earlier would return, hat both real and proverbially in his hand as he delivered information you could never be ready to hear. A series of thoughts about life without him revealed themselves, and you tried to push them aside. Sleeping alone beside his empty spot, raising Kat without him, telling her about her brave, kindhearted father whom the world misunderstood-

Loss overwhelmed your being, and you muffled your sobs in his pillow, determined only to cry in the darkness where your daughter's eyes would never find you.

You were unsure of how long it had been when you stopped. It was too dark to see the clock on the bedside, and your emotion had weakened you too much to check, anyways. Face sticky and damp with tears, you pulled the sheet up around your body in a gesture you hoped would be comforting. But the only thing that would truly calm you was tied up in a faraway unknown place.

Lost in the cavern of your discouragement, you allowed the cold, hardened fingers of grief drag you deeper into the depths. Though it was springtime, you knew without him life would be forever winter. The ghost of his memory would trail behind you like a second shadow with every one of your breaths. Kat would be the only thing to stop you from crawling beneath the earth to join him, his grave your new lover's bed.

Senses numbed, you were too long gone to hear the door open. But when warm fingers grazed your skin, you leapt up, whipping your head around and preparing yourself to attack whoever had broken in. There was a knife hidden in the bedside table that you were willing to use.

But the silhouette blurred by the night was familiar. You'd lost track of how many times you felt that touch, whether the intention be domestic or passionate. It was always loving.

Reaching over to the bedside, you fumbled for a match, striking it and holding the flame to the melted candle. Lifting the burning light, features revealed themselves as you moved it upwards. A time-worn gun belt, brown leather suspenders, dotted stubble...eyes bluer than the sky on a summer's day.

Lips parting in shock, you set the candle back down, hands moving of their own accord to cup his face. The prickle of his half-beard scratched at your soft palms, and his warmth exuded outward, drawing you in just as it always had.

"Billy..." you breathed, gasping in disbelief. Your fingers grasped at his face, as if checking to see if he wouldn't crumble under your fingers like some cruel vision.

His roughened hands came to your own cheeks, and your lower lip trembled, his next words a catalyst. "Oh, baby...baby 'm here."

You threw yourself into his arms, instantly surrounded by the warmth and love that could only come from being held like this by him. Home. He was home and this was home. All was right with the world.

"You're alive," you croaked into his chest, the sound and feel of his heartbeat a steady song proving he hadn't departed into the next realm yet. It nearly made you hysterical- the knowledge that Billy had been ripped from you and sewn back at your side within a day.

"I'm here my love," he promised, voice cracking barely as he buried his face in your hair. "I'll always come back to you...'m so sorry..."

"I wanted to come after you." Voice hitching at those words, you shuddered, your body's leftover tension from fear of his absence releasing. He was the one person in this life you could let your guard down with. "I wanted...but Kat..."

"Shh," Billy soothed, sitting down on the bed and keeping you right against him. His body began to rock back and forth, an immediate response to your distress. "You did exactly the right thing, darlin'. My brave girl...havin' to go through all this by yourself..."

"You were the one in danger," you whispered, lifting your head from the comfort of his chest. "And you...did you...?"

"Hush now," he murmured, hand petting over your hair in a way that melted you. "I'm here. I'm safe and I've gotcha again. That's all that matters."

There it was again. The protective streak, the curtain of iron that separated his two worlds. You did not press or ask further questions. Whatever his reasoning, it was likely for the best.

Billy gently positioned you to lie down before reaching below and tugging his boots off, kicking them aside. He stripped himself of his work clothes, and you imagined the state of them. Bloody, likely, dusty most definitely. Tomorrow you would scrub the substance from them and ignore the circumstances, merely happy he had come home.

The haven of his arms was yours once again as he crawled in behind you, kisses pressed to the back of your head as he settled. You knotted your hand with his resting on your stomach, filing the worries of tonight away where they wouldn't disturb you until the next morning.

Tucking his chin into the space between your neck and shoulder, Billy nosed a careful kiss into the space, his quiet last assurances echoing in your mind long after the words escaped his mouth.

"You're safe, my love. I'll keep you safe."

[uvobreakmylegs]

Detour

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What obnoxious fucking people.

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

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

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

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

“Mm-hm.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was his way out, then.

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

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

So he wasn't the only person out here.

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

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

“Hello.”

“... Hey.”

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

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

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

“No public pools around here?” he asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah.”

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

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

“You friends with them, then?”

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

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

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

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

You laughed at him, not taking his words seriously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nah, I was getting ready to leave.”

“What stopped you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do I do?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Job at least worth it?”

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

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I got screamed at by a lady.”

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

“For what?” he asked.

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

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

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

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

“Sounds rough.”

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

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

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

“How so?”

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

“Yeah? What's snitching gonna do?”

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

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

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

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

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

“A few weeks.”

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

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

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

“You can't?”

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

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

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

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

“Cold?” he asked.

“A little.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were pretty cute, too.

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

Your face lit up as a thought came to mind.

“You should come in!” you told him.

“No thanks.”

“Come on! It's really nice!”

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

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

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

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

“I don't have a swimsuit.”

“That doesn't stop most people.

“Good to know,” he said flatly.

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

“Can you not swim?” you asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I could if I wanted to.”

“So you don't want to?”

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

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

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

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

“It's cold,” you whined.

“Yep,” was his reply.

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

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

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

“Because you're too weak to do that.”

“That's not fair!”

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

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

“Problem?” he asked.

“It's cold,” you repeated.

He just smirked.

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

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

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

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

“You done talking?” Phinks asked.

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

Then you looked away like you were embarrassed.

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

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

“Come back over,” he told you.

“Why?”

“Because I want you to.”

You shook your head.

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

“Maybe.”

“Then no. I don't wanna get out yet.”

“How long are you gonna stay in there?”

“Until I feel like getting out.”

“And if I want you out of there now?”

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

…. Oh

That's what it was.

A ploy by you to get him into the pool.

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

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

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

“Enjoying the show?” he asked.

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

“Didn't say I was mad.”

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

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

“Phinks.”

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

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

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

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

“It suits you,” he said.

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

“Are you just gonna keep holding me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you usually bring home strangers?”

“Only the really cool ones.”

He grinned.

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

“Don't do that!” you yelled.

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

Phinks saw red.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Obnoxious fucking people,” he muttered to himself.

Then there was noise that came from behind him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck this. He needed to go.

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

You noticed him when he walked closer.

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

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

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

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

Fuck. He forgot that he needed to leave.

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

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

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

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

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

After a while you shuddered and finally spoke up.

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

“Oh. Sure. Sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

Fat chance.

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

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

“Think you can forgive me?”

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

“I promise.”

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

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

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

“Seems like it.”

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

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

“Oh.....”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right. Let me pull over.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What's wrong?”

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

“Ah.”

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

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

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

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

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

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

Phinks had an idea for that.

“Wanna go to a motel?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure,” he said.

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

He noticed when you yawned.

“Getting tired?” he asked.

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

“Same here.”

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

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

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

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

You were yawning again.

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

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

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

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

[chatterbox-73]

.The ‘Perfect’ Girl.

.Part III.

.Iida Tenya x fem!reader.

.Oxytocin.

By .Billie Eilish.

Potentially graphic content, please read texted below.⬇️

This series is a character x reader multi part story, there will be graphic descriptions of disturbing content, so please reader the Content and Trigger warnings before reading each part, I do want to advise minors not to read this series. Thank you☺️❤️

You must be 18 years or older to read this...

READERS DISCRETION IS ADVISED🔞

A/N: I know I said this last chapter but I’m serious this time, Iida will hopefully be more involved in the next chapter…😀

Also sorry this took me so long to post I just started a new job and it’s doesn’t leave me with very many opportunities to write.

Summary: I can see it clear as day. You don't really need a break. Wanna see what you can take. You should really run away. Other people wouldn't stay. Other people don't obey. You and me are both the same. You should really run away.

Bad things.

Word count: 2.2k

TW: descriptions of murder and violence, !Implied Intercourse!, !Sexual Themes!, !nudity! and swearing.

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Haruto Hasegawa slipped off his shoes and placed his keys into the bowl next to the front door as he stepped into his house, the house seemed cold and empty “darling I’m home” he called out for his wife, “hey Zeus, I’m home buddy” he call his dog, suddenly the big ball of black and white fur came running around the corner, the husky jumped on the man and started kissing him, “oh hello, good boy” Haruto rubbed his dog’s head and face as he laughed, however as he rubbed the dog’s back it felt wet. “Did you and Emi play with the hose? You’re all wet” Haruto continued to laugh as he push his dog off him, the man wiped his hands of onto his pants and watched at his dog ran off down the hallway.

The house was dark which was out of the ordinary because even if his wife wasn’t home she’d still leave the hallway light on and when she was home no matter where she was in the house every single light would be on, “hey Emi, are you home?” Haruto called while he hurriedly followed his dog, when the man turned the corner he was meant with the scene of his wife face down in a pool of dark liquid, the man rushed to her side and turned her over only to find her face had been caved in. “Emi… Emi-chan… are you still with me?” Haruto whimper now realising why his dog was all wet, the dog wasn’t covered in mud but in his wife’s blood.

“She’s dead, she died a couple of hours ago” a voice deadpanned, the man placed his wife down and stood up, he looked around the living room and spotted a naked female figure standing at the window looking out of it. “Who the fuck are you?!” Haruto shouted as he took a step forward “I think you know, Sensei” the figure continues facing the window, the man gasped and stumbled back into the wall, “that’s impossible… I… we… but you were…” his words came out in a scramble, “dead… I was dead, because you killed me… all of you killed me… and yet I’m here” you coldly chuckled, your eyes trained on tree in the backyard.

Everything was cold and still, “you know, I’ve always dreamed of being a mother and I was so excited for a baby… I thought you really loved me…” you held your breath as you spoke, not wanting to give away any emotions, “but you don’t and you never have… now look what I’ve done” you glanced at the man over your shoulder and once you made eye contact with the man he lunged for the house phone, as he dialled numbers and put the phone to his ear you ran to him. “Come help me! She going to kill me!” Haruto shouted into the phone, before you drove the kitchen knife you’d been holding this entire time into his side, the man sputtered and looked at you, as the operator on the phone asked what was happening, “I’m sorry dear, please forgive me” you smiled and lightly kissed his cheek. “Why…?” Haruto asked as the phone slipped out of his hands and dropped onto the floor, “Why…? Isn’t it obvious…?” You hummed as you gripped the handle of the knife before giving it a twist, you had an unnaturally wide smile on your face that made you cheeks hurt. “you did this, you made me like this” you chuckled as you threw his words back in his face, “you psycho bitch!” He hissed as he spat blood in your face, you frowned and pulled the knife from his side. “You really are vile sensei” you wiped the blood from your face and dropped the knife, you turned to walk away however you were struck and fell to the ground, you were than flipped onto your back and suddenly had Haruto’s hands around your neck. Air stopped flowing to your lungs as your vision blurred and spotted, you could hear Haruto spew obscenities at you before you completely blacked out.

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The sound of a tune being whistle came towards you, suddenly you shot up into a sitting position, your head spun and you took a deep breath in, your lungs filling with as much air as they’d allow. You heard a gasp and your eyes focused on the source of the noise, coming into your line of sight was a man with a white lab coat and no defining features aside for the glasses sitting on the end of his nose.

The image of Haruto Hasegawa flashed into your mind and you jumped off the cold examination table, before tackling the man to the ground and hitting him. “Help! Help! Zombie! Zombie!” The man shouted as you punched him and pulled at his hair, suddenly a man in some kind of armour came running into the room and pulled you off the other man before coming the victim to your attack. You continued to punch the new man but when you realised that wasn’t working, you moved onto scratching at his face, however you were pulled off the armoured man before being wrapped in what seemed like a scarf, “calm down, we’re not going to hurt you” said the man holding the scarf, you looked towards him, finding his hair standing up and his eyes glowing, you glared daggers at him before speaking, “let me go.” You hissed as you struggled to get out of his scarf, your eyes searched the room to find away out, however you were meet with a woman in a white bodysuit with a black corset standing in the only doorway out. “Midnight now!” The man in armour shouted and then the woman ripped the sleeve of her bodysuit, a mist came from her and before you released it you blacked out.

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Your close friend Rei sat at his desk on his phone, “I think I’m going crazy” he spoke in a hushed tone and the person on the other end of the phone laughed, “don’t laugh Minoru, I’m serious… it’s like she’s hunting me” Rei whispered as he looked around his room before looking out his window. As Rei finished his phone call with his friend, he watched the small red spider Lily bush he had planted a few weeks ago, just after your ‘accident’. “Darling we’re going to be leaving now, are you sure you don’t want to come?” Rei attention was turned to his bedroom door were his mother stood, “no I’m fine staying home, I have to study” he smiled before focusing on his exercise book, Rei’s mother nodded and spared a quick goodbye before leaving.

Rei read through his class notes and writing down important dot point, flipping through his note cards before his stomach growled, Rei sighed and slumped his way to the kitchen, the boy make a cup of instant noodles and made his way back into his room before sitting back at his desk. “Hi Rei-chan, you miss me?” Asked a soft yet hoarse voice, Rei jumped to his feet and spun around to look at the source of the voice…

It was you, but how could that be? You were dead, Rei knew you were dead, he held you decapitated head. Yet here you are, alive and breathing, just sitting there on his bed naked, covered in dirt and still as beautiful as ever…

“How are you… alive?” Rei asked slowly as he reached for the blanket on the back of his desk chair, he passed it to you trying to not get too close. “I just am, thank you for the flowers” you hummed standing to your feet, while discarding of the blanket he passed you, “I need your help Rei-chan, can you do that for me?” You walked over to him before wrapping your arms around his neck, your friend leaned in slightly “I’d do anything for you” he whispered as he draped his arms around your waist and pressed in close. Rei knew he shouldn’t have but you’re just too inviting he just couldn’t help himself, Rei internally cursed himself for his lack of control before he completely gave in and rested his face in the crook of your neck. “I’m so sorry, will you ever forgive me” Rei hummed against your skin which caused you to giggle, “that tickles Rei-chan…” you pressed in even close “…I never hated you, it was always him” you ran your finger in to the hair on the nape of his neck, before pulling it hard. “Are you really alive? I’m not going crazy, am I?” Rei sighed as you tugged at his hair, you smiled letting go of his hair before grabbing one of his hand and pressing it to your sternum, Rei blushed as his fingers lightly brushed against your breast, but more importantly he could feel your heart thumping away, it was beating at a steady rhythm. Rei was at a loss for words, the heart that had been stabbed, then ripped out of your chest and passed you him, the heart that was small enough you fit in one of his hands, the heart he had buried in his backyard was now back in your chest beating. “What did you need my help with?” Rei look up from your chest and watched a large mischievous smile form on your lips, you cupped his face with your hands and leaned in, “I need your sister’s spare uniform and I’ll need you to act like it’s your first time seeing me alive tomorrow” you smiled and continued on with explaining your plans.

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Rei sat anxiously waiting for everything to unfold all while his class chatted away aimlessly, he was too distracted to focus on anything his classmates were saying, all he could think of was the way your body moulded to his last night. You said it was a thank you for all his help but he knew you were just being cruel, you gave him what he wanted. Closeness. But that’s all it was your body close to his, there was no feelings behind your actions, no longing behind your touches, no love behind your kisses, no meaning behind your stare. Nothing, there was nothing but sex. Rei was greatly satisfied by it, but it was hollow and he knew it meant nothing to you, despite your whispers of ‘how much you cared for him’, you didn’t really care for him, you pitied him.

Soon the chatter came to a sudden stop when Hasegawa Sensei stumbled in. The man looked ragged and tired, his hair is damp and tangled, his eyes were bloodshot and puffy, his clothes were haphazardly thrown on loosely clinging to his body and forearms were littered with scratches, “hey Sensei, you look rough… everything alright?” Called out one of the students, however before the man could answer a voice interrupted him.

“Oh Sensei must of had a pretty crazy night, I know I did” you chuckled, Rei watched as everyone’s faces turn stark white and Hasegawa Sensei looked as though he went through a range of emotions before settling on frustration, “HOW!? HOW ARE YOU STILL FUCKING HERE?!” He yelled and you only tilted your head, “TWICE! I’VE KILLED YOU TWICE! AND… and… a-and…” he falls to his knees and gripped at his hair, “and I just keep coming back…” you smiled as you walked up the man and lay a hand over his, “Sensei I’ll always come back…” you softly chuckled and this sent the man into a rage, he suddenly shot to his feet and wrapped his hands around your neck, before you both fell to the ground, you laughed hysterically like you almost enjoyed it while Hasegawa Sensei yelled nonsense. Everyone stayed seated they were too stunned to move, however Rei quickly stood and before he had a chance to run over to you, the Flame her; Endeavor burst into the room and ripped the man off you after him came in, Eraserhead, Ingenium, Midnight and several police officers. It didn’t take them much to apprehend the man, “hey you, we need you to take care of this one” call one of the police officers, following this another you walk through the classroom doors with a woman who had ash blonde hair and turquoise eyes, you placed a hand on your copy’s shoulder and suddenly she melted into a puddle of blood like goo. “Come on now, we’re leaving, say goodbye to your classmates” the woman spoke calmly, you shared a quick goodbye and walked over to Rei before placing a small crumpled piece of paper on his desk, then turned to leave but before you could leave the woman spoke up in a harsh hiss, “all of you have avoided a very… very long prison sentence thanks to this girl, you should all be grateful” then she placed a hand on your shoulder. “Where is she going? Where are you taking her?” Rei called out now realising you goodbye seemed permanent, “this young girl has shown great potential, so we’ve recommended her to start at UA next year, so we’ll be taking her to Shizuoka Prefecture and until her year at UA starts she’ll be training at the hero commission and also be mentoring under Midnight over there” the woman smiled and ushered you out the door, leaving all the young students stunned, because not only did they fail to kill you, they got you a one way ticket to UA’s hero course.

Rei looked at the note you left him and it made him feel slightly sick, the note read…

“I hope that you never forget me.”

…of course Rei would never forget you, not after everything that happened, not after last night, he’d never forget you.

.The perfect girl. Masterlist

.The perfect girl. Spotify Playlist (coming soon)

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