#Steve just wants to whistle and billy is just whistling material girl

[charleslucid]

Headcanon that Steve cannot whistle. So of course this leads to Billy (who is a master a whistling) to whistle whenever he can just to piss Steve off.

[hawkins-losers]

Don’t mess with my man | Steve Harrington x Hopper!Reader

Summary: When a new kid arrive in Hawkins, someone’s gotta put him back in his place - but that someone is not Steve Harrington

Word count: 2.7k

Request: Can you write about Billy bullying Steve and reader defending him?

Could you pretty pretty please write a Steve x Reader fic with prompts 12 and 46?? 🥺🥺 (‘’I’m fine.’’ - ‘’No, you’re not. You’re bleeding!’’  + “Stay the night. Please.”)

Warning: Billy being a disrespectful ass, s*xual harassment, s*xual a**ault (hand under clothes), violence

A/N: When I started writing this, it had a goal. It was going somewhere. But it got lost and I don’t want to trash 2.7k of words. I apologize if it sucks

-

Like every Thursday, you went to Steve’s basketball practice after your tutoring session. An hour had already passed when you arrived, but you took a seat in the stands for the last thirty minutes. 

The basketball season had been disastrous last year - they didn’t even make it to the tournament -, but Steve was confident they would make it this year. You hoped so too. It was Steve’s graduation year, so it would be a nice way to leave Hawkins High. 

The team was on the court, playing ‘skins against tee shirts’. You scanned the gymnasium, looking for your boyfriend, and was bummed to see that Steve was not in the ‘skins’ team. Steve was always on the ‘skins’ team.

 A new face seemed to have taken his place. You had never seen him at school before so he must be the new guy - Billy. While he sported a nice chiseled body, he had a horrible haircut. A sort of dark blond curly mullet.

Coach whistled and called a water break, breaking you from your staring. 

‘’Steve!’’ You waved at him and he smiled, waving back. 

He liked having his girl watching him in the stands. Despite all the cheerleaders and other girls cheering for him at games, you were the only one he wanted to hear scream his name. 

Coach blew his whistle again, getting everyone’s attention, and the game resumed. 

Your and Steve’s little exchange didn’t go unnoticed by the new boy, though. It gave him the perfect material to push Steve’s buttons.  

Billy waited until Steve had the ball to put his plan in action. He snuck behind him, making it seem as if he was just playing basketball and trying to snatch the ball, but Billy was actually taunting him. Steve tried pushing him out of the way so he could run to the basket and score, but Billy was blocking him with a nasty smirk on his lips. 

A frown crease between your eyebrows as you saw Billy’s lips moving - he was talking. You couldn't hear what he was saying, though. You assumed he was trying to deconcentrate Steve so he could steal the ball, but Steve's eyes flickered to you, jaw tightening, and that’s when you realized it wasn't about the game. 

Whatever he was saying was getting to his head and you wanted to punch Billy’s little smirk. 

That was not fair play. 

Coach was completely blind to his behavior though.

While Steve's attention was on you, Billy shoved him by the shoulder, sending him to the ground, and stole the ball. 

That’s a foul! you wanted to call, but it would be pointless. What would Coach do? Give Billy a personal foul? Make him sit the rest of the ‘game’ on the bench? This was just practice. Coach wouldn’t bat an eye even if he saw a player punch another.

Steve quickly stood and went after Billy, but Billy was already too far ahead on the court, making a show of dribbling the ball under his knee and scoring. 

The team cheered.

What a fucking show off.

The rest of practice went without any other taunting from Billy. 

When Coach signaled the end of practice, you got down the stands and walked up to Steve. 

‘’What’s his problem?’’ you asked, nodding at Billy over his shoulder. 

Steve shook his head.  ‘’It’s nothing. He’s just being annoying-’’

‘’Bullshit. I saw him nagging you and pushing you.’’

‘’He was just playing’’ Steve insisted. ‘’Let’s go. I’ll shower at home.’’ 

“No, if you won’t say something, I will.” You turned to walk towards Billy, about to tell him a piece of your mind, but Steve grabbed your wrist to stop you. 

“Leave it, babe.” 

You scowled at Billy as he watched you and Steve walk out with a smirk on his face.  

‘’I wasn’t going to tell him anything too bad,’’ you told Steve as you left the gymnasium. ‘’Just, listen, new kid. Steve might be king of Hawkins High, but I'm the crazy bitch around here. Leave my boyfriend alone, got it?’’

A smile spread on the latter’s lips. 

Most guys would be embarrassing that their girlfriend wanted to take their defense against another guy - or anyone -, but it made Steve really horny.

.

Your next encounter with Billy was at Tina’s massive Halloween bash. You didn’t expect to see him there since he was the new kid, but of course he was. Tina had invited everyone - well, everyone except Jonathan Byers. 

You and Steve pulled up to Tina’s dressed up as Sandy and Danny from Grease. 

Although you were more Swayze than Travolta, the combo of tight tee shirt and pants looked amazing on Steve. He must’ve been doing squats because you didn’t remember his ass looking this good. To make his costume more ressemblant to the movie, you had painted the T-Birds logo on the back of a leather jacket. 

‘’We’re lucky Dad is on patrol tonight. He would’ve never let me leave the house wearing that,’’ you said with a soft laugh. 

Steve could only agree. You looked hot in your costume. Anyone with eyes would say so. 

When he picked you up, you surprised him with Sandy’s finale outfit instead of the long yellow skirt you made him believe you’d be wearing. His jaw had dropped to the ground when he saw you in the tight pants and red lipstick. 

Music was blasting when you opened the door to Tina's. People were drinking, cheering and dancing...and groping each other on couches. 

You turned to Steve, a hand on his chest. ‘’Babe, can you go get us drinks? I’m gonna go say ‘hi’ to Jennifer and-’’

‘’We got ourself a new keg king, Harrington,’’ Tommy said, meeting you and Steve at the door with Billy right on his heels - likely their new keg king. 

‘’Yeah, eat it, Harrington,’’ added some other guy, taunting and mocking Steve who, according to them, was losing his social status. 

Steve took off his sunglasses, taking Billy in a stare down and you almost rolled your eyes at the testosterone that reeked from them. Men. 

‘’Well, well, isn’t that King Steve’s bitch,’’ Billy said, walking over to you with a cockiness in his step. He gave you a stare down, his blue eyes lingering at your form-fitting costume, and whistled. ‘’You got taste Harrington.’’ 

Before Steve could think of anything to say back, you met Billy’s eyes, boldly staring back. ‘’And you have a shitty haircut,’’ you remarked with as much attitude as possible. ‘’Does a bird live in there?’’

Some people whistled, seeing the tension rise between you and Billy. 

Billy laughed flatly, shaking his head. ‘’She got a tongue on her, uh?’’ His eyes traveled to you, a dirty smile curling on his face. ‘’Bet you can make good use of it too,’’ he added, running his tongue suggestively over his lips.

‘’Not that you’ll ever find out.’’ 

.

The line between consent and sexual assault is thin, but easy to understand. If someone tells you not to touch them, you don't. If you do it anyway, it's sexual abuse. Pretty easy, uh? Yet, some people still can't grasp the concept.

You were walking your way to the library when Billy cornered you in a hallway at school. 

”Hey sweetheart,” he greeted with his signature smirk, standing before you head to toe in blue denim. ‘’Nice skirt you’re wearing today, it would look better on my floor though.’’

You ignored his disgusting comment, not feeling like dealing with him today. You were already ten minutes late. 

‘’Get out of my way, Billy. I gotta meet Nancy to study.’’ 

You tried to walk past him, but he cornered you, pressing his hands on each side of your head on the wall.

‘’Don't run away like that.’’ His taut chest pressed you against the wall, trapping you, while his hand slipped down to your bare leg, traveling up your thigh until he reached the hem of your skirt. 

You were stunned while it was happening. 

‘’Let me go, Billy,’’ you finally said, slowly breaking out of your transe. You needed to think of a smart and efficient way to get yourself out of this situation, refusing to let Billy have his way with you. 

He ignored you, high hand getting higher and higher.  

Your eyes flickering to both sides of the hallway to see if someone was near. Unfortunately, it was vacant. 

‘’Or what?’’ Billy laughed mockingly, not taking your threat seriously. Your breathing quickened as he slipped his hand under your skirt, just an inch. The smirk on his lips broadened, making you sick to your stomach. ‘’Your big bad boyfriend will come and kick my ass? I ain’t scared of him.’’ 

Taking your abuser by surprise, you snatched his hand off of you. ‘’Get your filthy hands off me!‘’ 

You tightly grabbed his hand that was under your skirt, and spun in a circle like your dad taught you. His arm bent in an impossible position. With a little more pressure in the opposite direction,  you could certainly sprain something, but you decided to spare him.

“I don’t need a man to save me. I’m not a damsel in distress.” 

You scoffed while Billy struggled, maintaining your grip and applying some pressure. The blond made a face and hissed. 

After a few seconds, you let go of him and took a step back, putting distance between you and him. 

“You little bitc-” Billy didn’t get to finish his sentence, getting cut off as a door opened down the hallway and a few students came out.

''Don't ever put your hands on me again, you fucking hear me?'' you hissed at him, your words like venom. 

.

You were in the middle of a tutoring lesson with a junior student when a frantic Nancy bursted through the classroom door, searching for you. She quickly spotted you and ran to your table, a mild state of panic on her face. 

‘’Nancy? What are you-’’

‘’I'm sorry, Y/N. I told him. I couldn’t keep it for me, I had to tell someone. It was either him or your dad and your dad kind of scares me and his reaction would've been a thousand times worse than Steve's-''

You put down your pen, then looked up at your friend confusedly. You hadn’t picked up some of her words because of how fast she was talking and the jagged breaths she was taking in between. 

''Nance. Breathe,’’ you coached, not wanting her to get an asthma attack or something. 

She nodded, and took a few deep breaths. The wash of panic on her face didn’t go away though, which worried you.

‘’Now, what is going on?''

‘’It’s Steve. I told him about the…’’ she glanced at the student sitting at your table and back to you, ‘’ ‘Billy thing’ and he took Billy in a fight.’’ 

The second Nancy mentioned a fight, tutoring was no longer on your mind - sorry Dennis. You began making up scenarios in your head and they were all worse than the other. Steve knew how to fight, but he stood no chances against Billy. The guy has deep anger issues and that was worrisome. 

‘’Shit.’’ 

Nancy pursued. ‘’Knowing how stupid he can be when angry, I followed him. At first, Steve had the upper hand, but then Billy fought back. It was…’’ She winced at the memory. ‘’The guy fights dirty, Y/N.’’ 

‘’Where is he? Where’s Steve?’’ 

‘’Follow me.’’ 

‘’What about my math homework?’’ you heard Dennis say, but you were already out of the classroom.

In the bathroom at the end of the hall, Steve was cleaning his face with brown paper-towels. The material was rough on his abused and swollen skin, but it was that or toilet paper. He winced at every dabs, grumbling to himself how he hate Billy Hargrove’s fucking face.

He heard commotion beyond the door and his shoulders instantly tensed, thinking Billy was back. 

‘’Steve, are you in there?” you called through the bathroom door. 

He relaxed at the familiar voice. “In here,” he confirmed.

You pushed the door open and slipped inside, not caring that this was the boys’ bathroom. 

His back was slightly angled to you as he stood at the sink. You could smell the copper-y tinge of blood, making your stomach churn. Steve turned, exposing the painting of his injuries, and you couldn't help but gasp. His beautiful face was disfigured.

Your suspicions had been right about Billy's fighting skills.

‘’I’m fine,’’ Steve brushed off, but your eyes were telling you something else.

‘’No, you’re not. You’re bleeding!’’

There was a cut on his cheekbone with a large and deep-colored bruise expanding to the side of his face and eye, a split lip with blood dripping to his chin and shirt, and his knuckles were in the same state - split and bleeding. The bridge of his nose seemed to be bruised too. Hopefully it wasn't broken.

The sound of your shoes echoed in the small bathroom as they carried you to your damaged boyfriend.  You reached out to cup his jaw, tilting his head, feeling a sharp pain in your heart as you got a better look at the damages. 

You took a clean paper-towel and wet it with warm water to dab onto the cut on Steve’s cheekbone. He hissed in pain, but didn’t move away. 

‘’Why didn’t you tell me what happened with Billy?’’ 

Your bones chilled immediately as your breathing hitched. ‘’Because it’s nothing-’’ you said in a defensive tone.

Steve raised his eyes to you, seeing through your lies. ‘’It’s not. That’s what you are trying to tell yourself, but you know deep down that what he did wasn’t nothing.’’ 

‘’I don’t want to talk about that. Can you please-’’ 

‘’Did you not trust me? Is that why you told Nance instead of me?’’

You shook your head. ‘’I didn’t want this to happen. I knew you’d want to bust his face the second I’d tell you and don’t even try to say I’m wrong because that’s exactly what you did just now.’’ 

There was no point denying. Steve did want to murder Billy. He’d want to murder anyone who touched his girl like that. It made him sick. 

The conversation was dropped as you continued to clean Steve’s face Or, tried to. The paper-towel was just smearing the blood and making a bigger mess. 

Having enough, you threw it on the counter. ‘‘This is not going to do it. I need saline solution and cotton balls. All there is here is heavily scented hand soap which is a ticket for an infection. You also need ice and painkillers.’’ 

.

Two days later, you and Steve were having a little date night at this pizza place when a familiar Camaro pulled in the parking lot. 

‘’Stay the night.’’ 

You shook your head, swallowing your bite of cheesy crust. ‘’Can’t. Dad is home and I need to be home at eleven sharp. Do you remember what happened that one time we didn’t respect curfew by five minutes?’’ 

Five minutes late wasn’t something to make a fuss about - unless you were Jim Hopper. 

Steve winced on his side of the booth, remembering very vividly. ‘’You mean when he threatened me with his gun?’’ He scoffed, taking a fry from the basket. ‘’How can I not remember that…’’ 

‘’He wasn’t going to shoot you, he just wanted to scare you.’’ 

‘’Your dad is terrifying as he is. He doesn’t need his gun.’’ 

You laughed. ‘’I know.’’ 

The swelling on Steve’s face had gone down a little, but it was still very sore. His busted face attracted curious eyes and awoken whispers everywhere he went, which was very annoying. Couldn’t people mind their own business? Everyone was trying to guess who he had fought with. Was is Tommy? They had been seen stirring some steam at Tina’s Halloween bash. Was it Jonathan Byers? These two have had a forever feud between them. Or-

‘’Nice face, Harrington,’’ Billy’s cocky voice mocked, ruining your date. 

His face wasn’t as busted as Steve’s, but he sported a cut under his eyebrow with some light bruising on the side of his face and a split lip. 

Billy’s eyes traveled across the table to you, plunging his blue eyes right in your cleavage. 

‘’Stop looking at her like she’s some piece of meat,’’ Steve jumped in, reading Billy’s thoughts.

‘’Or what? You’re gonna hit me, Harrington?’’ Billy clicked his tongue, a smug look on his face. ‘’You may have thrown the first punch, but you didn’t win. See that black eye you got? That’s not the face of a winner, isn’t it?’’

Before you, Steve’s jaw clenched, trying to keep his calm. You wanted to reach over the table and hold his hand, but instead you hooked your ankle to his under the table.

‘’He’s not gonna hit you again. He won't need to, because I’m gonna go and tell my dad about you,’’ you said, the words coming out of your mouth.

You didn’t like to use this method to get yourself out of situations, but it was getting out of hand with Billy. You couldn’t let this guy mess with your lives - and heads - anymore. 

''And what's daddy going to do? Threaten to kick my ass?'' Billy laughed, not feeling threatened in the slightest. 

''No. He'll cuff you for sexual assault and harassment, and physical assault. In case you need a reminder, you grabbed my ass the other day and punched my boyfriend.'' 

''In case you didn’t catch on, her dad's the chief of police of Hawkins,'' Steve told him with a little smug smile. He pointed across the street to the police office. Hopper wasn’t in tonight, but Billy didn’t need to know that.

-

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[apomaro-mellow]

Part 4

Dustin kept his promise to help teach Steve how to find food. Sources were getting scarce though. And after some time, Dustin decided his energy would be better suited to finding out where the fairy prince lived.

"If I can find him, he can get you home."

"Or you can find my home. Or better yet, fly me there", Steve suggested.

Dustin rolled his eyes. "Look at this wingspan. I'm lucky if I can carry a twig with some berries. Strength is not my forte. But finding things is. I've already found you twice. Maybe this Eddie guy is just bad with directions."

"Go, leave me here to fend for myself."

"I thought you were supposed to be the adult between us. Don't die!", he said as a reminder before taking off.

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

Steve's mother Lina waited as one day turned into two, then three. She waited as more of the leaves changed colors, and as the first frost appeared. While others prepared, and later celebrated the fall season, she waited by his bedroom window. She didn't make the dresses she normally did for the girls to dance in. Instead she spent her days making new outfits for Steve. One lucky aspect of having such a small son was that she needed very little material.

When night fell and it was too dark to sew by, she kept his window for as long as possible, singing lullabies, hoping he could hear and follow her voice home. Sometimes she looked to the book of tales, still open to the page with the fairy prince.

Steve's prince had promised to return him. Lina believed in chivalry and love. But she was also aware of how difficult to small people looking for each other in this big world could be. Steve could be right in the garden or a whole town over and she wouldn't know.

Tonight snow was falling and a powdery blanket was beginning to cover the ground. Feeling helpless but not hopeless, Lina closed the window for the night. She'd get started on a new blanket for him tomorrow.

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

Eddie pushed Honey on, even as the winds got colder. Royal authority didn't give him the power to stop the seasons, even when he asked. He heard a commotion going on closer to the ground and flew in to see what it was all about. There was a toad, so he counted his luck.

"Hey!", he called out when he landed and hopped off his bee. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about the guy I'm looking for. About yae high, beautiful brown hair, was last seen in blue?"

The toad sneered at him. "I ain't got nuthin' to tell a fairy. Buzz off." He turned to stomp away, muttering something about a Carol and a wedding.

Eddie flew past to head him off. "Wait just a second, I'm not done. Now I've lost someone and he could be in danger."

The toad was about to tell him off when his expression changed to something more conniving. Eddie got on his guard. This could very well be the toad that had taken Steve.

"Lost someone, you say? Maybe he just didn't wanna be around you", he said with a harsh shove, nearly knocking Eddie over.

"I don't want any trouble. Just some info."

Then he felt someone grab him from behind, arms surrounding his neck in a chokehold. Eddie immediately launched but was surprised when his assailant didn't fall behind. Instead they cackled and he also heard the sound of beetle wings. They wrestled in the air before Billy got the upper hand and threw Eddie against a tree.

He was disoriented as Tommy picked him up and shoved a knee in his stomach.

"I think if we wanna get our hands on that princess, we better keep a hold of the prince", Billy said.

"Yeah, but I'm not babysitting him."

Eddie regained just a bit of his fight to whistle, ordering Honey to bulldoze right into Billy. Tommy pushed at Eddie to get out of the way, making him fall into a deep puddle.

His wings weren't much use in the water. And he was fatigued from searching endlessly. He felt himself moving slow but it wasn't just his body. The water froze around him, sealing as he reached for the surface.

Honey hovered before she was shooed off by Billy. "Looks like we got some crown royal on ice", he grinned.

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

To his credit, Steve felt like he did pretty well for a while after Dustin left. Still, there was no beating the cold when you had zero walls to shield you. By luck he was able to find a discarded holey sock to wrap around himself. His shivering only stopped when he passed out, praying he'd awaken in the morning.

When he did wake up, it was to warmth, so he was sure he was dreaming. He stretched out and instead of a worn sock, he had a much nicer cloth on top of him. This was nicer than the toad's barge, but he was so over waking up in unknown places.

"Oh good. You're finally awake."

Steve looked to the side and saw that he was in the presence of a weasel. A smartly dressed weasel at that.

"Did you bring me here?", Steve asked, looking around. The space was small, but that made it easy to keep warm. Which seemed to be accomplished with a stove.

"That I did. I'm a doctor around these parts. You can call me Brenner." He was stirring a pot as he spoke. "Are you hungry, Steve?"

"Starvin-wait, how do you know my name?"

Brenner chuckled to himself. "It's a small forest. I know all about you. How you were being courted by those toads and all. How you turned them down because of your previous engagement with the prince."

"We're not quite engaged", Steve took the cup that was offered to him. He didn't know what it was but it was warm and smelled of spices. "But, I suppose something like that was on my mind."

"Mhm", Brenner went back to stirring the pot. "Of course with him being dead, your plans must've changed."

Steve barely got a sip before the cup dropped out of his hands, startling the doctor.

"Certainly you knew about that?"

"No....", Steve whispered. He backed away until he came to a wall. Suddenly the cozy space felt much too small. "Eddie can't....he can't be...de-" His voice broke off with a weak gasp.

"My apologies. I assumed you knew."

Steve sunk down to the floor and pulled his knees up this his chest. If Eddie had been looking for Steve, if he had died out there while on the search...he could never forgive himself.

"Good food and good company can get your mind off that terrible dreariness. Come now." Brenner took a piping hot tray out of the oven. "We're going to take these to a dear friend of mine."

Steve didn't get up. "I'm really not up for visiting anyone right now."

"The way I see it, I just saved your life. And you can't muster up the energy for a stroll to my closest neighbor?"

Steve didn't even want to move. He thought his heart broke at the idea of never seeing Eddie again. Him dying was so much worse. It felt like his heart had been ripped out and left a whole in his chest; like he would never be full again. Brenner was looking at him expectantly though, so slowly, Steve rose to his feet. The weasel did bring him in from the cold and revive him. And it wasn't Brenner's fault that Steve was lost or that Eddie was...

His body moved on its own as Brenner put the pan in his hands and led him through a small door. The tunnel was dark and Brenner filled the space with whoever this neighbor was. A Mr. Henry Creel apparently.

Little did he know, Dr. Brenner had his own ulterior motives for Steve.

Part 6

Tag Team

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@spectrum-spectre

[solarsleepless]

what r max's stims? :)

SHSHJSHJSJSJSHJSH

okAY yes i have many thoughts abt adhd max i am vibrating rn

okay so first of all theres the average well known "flappy hands"

but she really likes it when she has sweaters with longer sleeves because then she can just flap them around

leg bounce leg bounce leg bounce

cracking her knuckles. she does this SO often its unreal

she doesnt have many vocal stims but she goes "ba ba ba" or just humming and singing sometimes

also running her hand on the bottom of her skateboard, and/or rolling the wheels

just being on her skateboard and swaying is a huge stim

chewing her shirt lmao

im also gonna say that she also stims by pressing on buttons and other stuff in the arcade. its just Nice To Do

also stims by kicking off of the ground on her skateboard. very nice

well this is gonna turn into adhd max rant get ready

she had adhd combined (like yours truly) and finds it hard to concentrate in class

she totally hyperfixated on video games at some point

and comics probably

and skateboarding too

she is a VERY picky eater. like she could barely eat stuff in california, so when she moves to hawkins it only gets worse

sensory issues my abhorreeed

can't stand too-loud noises (b!lly of course knows this and turns up music in his car so that he can't even hear himself)

that being said she cant STAND the silence and always needs background noise (she and el bond over liking white noise from tv)

SHE LOVES TANGLERS SO MUCH

goes nonverbal sometimes because of the fear that if she says anything itll just make things worse. the party + steve is very concerned at first, then learn to live with it

WHISTLE STIM WHISTLE STIM WHISTLE

she has so many weighted blankets. she couldnt actually use them much because it was too hot in cali but then in hawkins she used them all the time

SPINNY CHAIR SPINNY CHAIR

undiagnosed

loves fluffy jumpers. she never really used or felt them earlier because of the hotness of california but when she was cold and lucas lent her his fluffy jumper...

well let's just say he didn't get it back

rubbing her hand over lucas's knuckles :)

i know i've already said singing stim but just imagine her singing 'material girl' or 'old time rock and roll'

echolalia! only sometimes tho

like erica will go "hey max me and lukie are gonna make a cake wanna help?" "cake?" "cake" "cake!" "cake!" "cake"

also the sinclair family is so accepting. they're confused but they just accept max and thats okay

once the party started looking up what adhd was, max brought it up once and immediately they all went 'that's only for little boys'

(which is bullshit obvs)

remember that sleepover scene where max is dancing? yeah that but its a stim

the party + the teens have a running joke of max being moth because she stares at lights so much. visual stim

she scratches as a(n unhealthy) stim but it gets worse after billy's death

hates it when people shout, usually goes nonverbal if it's directed at her

jumps when she's happy!!

you know how she just wears basic and unlayered clothes? yeah she chooses them on purpose because tight stuff feels Bad

she hates labels with her entire being

she seems like the kind of gal to bite her nails

also adopted dustin's "grrr" as a stim

"hey max- grrr" "...what was that?" "...grrr" "could you teach me how to do that" ".. o k a y ?"

will and max (i hc will as autistic) both have lil stimming sessions! they just notice the other stimming and join in, just leaving them laughing at the end!

lucas is super understanding of her stims

he learnt to recognize when she's understimulated and gives her fidget toys!! and if he doesnt have any then he'll just straight up grab her hand and start rubbing his fingers against the knuckles

i'd like to say:

*SLAPS ROOF OF MAX MAYFIELD* THIS BITCH CAN HOLD SO MUCH RSD

she wasnt doing so good in the first place

thinking stuff like

"maybe if i wasnt born then my parents wouldn't have divorced"

and stuff like that

(billy intentionally makes it worse because of course he does)

but then it gets so. much. worse.

you know mike said "because you're annoying" in s2?

YOU CAN BET THAT TRIGGERED HER RSD SO HARD

and also when el just walked past her in s2? yeah well

that didn't go off well with her rsd either

lucas has to reassure her that she's not a mistake, she's not annoying, he doesn't secretly hate her, etc etc

he doesnt think he'll ever forgive mike for triggering her rsd so badly

this has so many hurt/comfort possibilities in fic holy fuck-

lucas immediately shuts down her deprecating comments

like IMMEDIATELY

he wont stand for that shit

he is glaring so badly at anyone who triggers max's rsd

unless it's someone they love (like erica) who doesn't actually know what they did wrong and want to make up for it

once erica activated her rsd by accident

just with a lil lighthearted comment

"ugh i hope you arent as annoying as lukey's little friends on the walkie talkie"

once erica finds out abt what she did she feels SO bad. babey

she does everything she can to make up for it

apologizes properly when they're both brushing the barbie's hair

she finds out max stims by brushing barbie's hair when max has to look after once

so when she can see max is understimulated she'll just toss a barbie and a hairbrush her way

also likes max's echolalia (can you hear that? its the sound of max's euphoria boosting)

erica learns to lower her voice around max

max can't watch anything without subtitles btw

she just cannot

she'll watch it and cause she's smart she'll figure out what's going on

but often has to turn to lucas and go "whats going on???"

she loves the feeling of snow thru her gloves

maybe its the cold but still. very Nice

uhh i have more but i cant be bothered also this is too long already

[rawiswhore]

Shawn Michaels, Triple H x Fem Reader- “Carry On Wayward”

Wrestlemania is the most famous wrestling event in the world from the most famous professional wrestling company in the world; Wrestlemania pretty much is the Superbowl of wrestling events.

One of the things that's a part of Wrestlemania is wrestlers making memorable, over-the-top, iconic entrances; Shawn Michaels ziplining from the ceiling into the ring, the New Day coming out of a giant box of their own Booty O's cereal that had tipped over, the Undertaker had some really memorable Wrestlemania entrances and even wrestling entrances in general, even John Cena had a bunch of men dressed like him start his entrance before he came and started waving their hands in front of their faces.

While this up-and-coming entrance isn't over-the-top in comparison to Shawn ziplining into the ring, in fact, this entrance is rather generic and not memorable, but it is a little bit funny and quite extra.

The most iconic wrestling faction of the WWF's Attitude era was undeniably D Generation X, you could even say they ushered in the Attitude era and why the WWF called itself WWF Attitude.

Before DX added the New Age Outlaws and the former 123 Kid, who had now gotten a makeover and was known as X Pac, D Generation X were a duo consisting of Shawn Michaels and Triple H (and Chyna too, for that matter, and even Rick Rude, though he was a completely pointless member).

D Generation X were increasing in popularity, even when it was just Shawn Michaels and Triple H, and they'd grow even more popular once they started adding newer members and selling merchandise.

"Are you ready?" the Zac de la Rocha knockoff asked on the overhead speakers, which immediately got the audience out of their seats and cheering, holding their posters up and recognizing that question.

While the Rage Against the Machine-wannabe entrance song began playing and DX's epilepsy inducing titantron was playing, Triple H and Shawn Michaels had entered the arena, Triple H dressed in a tight black short sleeved T-shirt that read D Generation X in white bold letters across the top and black denim jeans, whereas Shawn was dressed in his signature red tights with slightly torn hearts all over them.

That wasn't all they had adorned on them, you were lying horizontally across them and in front of them while you were dressed in a bikini top that read "D" on one breast and "X" on the other and a pair of black pleather hot pants with platform, open toed, high heeled stilettos on your feet.

Shawn and Triple H were carrying you into the ring, holding onto you, and you were lying horizontally across these 2 and in front of them like Madonna in the "Material Girl" video when 2 men dressed in tuxedos are carrying her, like this:

 The audience got a massive kick out of seeing Triple H and Shawn Michaels lifting you towards the ring like that, many of them were laughing and cheering even more for you than for them.

Jerry Lawler sat at the commentary table laughing his ass off.

Even Stone Cold Steve Austin in the ring was trying to keep a straight face.

Some males in the audience even made those corny wolf whistles at you that you're used to hearing.

You, on the other hand, are lying across Shawn and Triple H's chests with a smug little smirk painted on your fire engine red lips.

The camera, meanwhile, was zooming in on your chest wearing a bikini top that read "D" on one part and "X" on the other, and even Jerry Lawler was mentioning that, pointing to your bikini top and shrieking his head off.

Some men in the audience can even see that bikini top you've got on and what it says.

Future merchandise in the WWF magazine catalogue.

When you, Shawn and Triple H had approached the ring, Shawn and Trips pulled you off of their arms, letting your feet on the ground, whereas they had both crawled into the ring, in particular Shawn Michaels.

Shawn was the one going to have a match, not Triple H, not you.

You were there to cheer Shawn on and tell him to beat the tar out of Stone Cold.

You're glad that Billy Gunn eventually became a member of D Generation X, because you would let him carry you to the ring alongside Shawn and Triple H.

Next year, speak of the devil, at Wrestlemania '99, you were carried towards the ring like Cleopatra by Triple H, Billy Gunn, Road Dogg and X Pac, while you waved and blew kisses to the audience and smiled from ear to ear.

They weren't carrying you while you lied across their chests horizontally like Madonna, you were carried like Cleopatra by them, sitting up straight while they held you and carried you by your legs and on their shoulders.

(I actually couldn't decide if I wanted the fem reader to be carried like Madonna or like Cleopatra, but I chose Madonna because I do have crushes on both Triple H and Shawn Michaels)

[scribeofmorpheus]

His Girl Tuesday - Prologue

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Tuesday Adams x  Billy Hargrove

[Series Masterlist] [Main masterlist] [AO3]

A/N: I know I said I wouldn’t post any chapters for this fic yet, but I had to write down this opening scene before it disappeared. So now, we have a prologue and I just want to remind everyone, this series won’t pick up until I’ve concluded my on-going ones (let’s be honest though, how many times have I said this and then started a new fic immediately after?).

Warnings: NSFW, swearing, butchered Spanglish | Words: 2k

January, ‘85...

An open can of spaghetti, a bubbling pot of coffee and a sizzling pan were the three key signifiers that one half of the Adams household was awake.

Tuesday moved the spatula around as though she was digging through the strands of pasta to find some hidden treasure. When nothing was found, she took the pan off the hot hob and placed it on another, filling her mug with scalding hot coffee and unfolding the newspaper to do the crossword for the day. As she scribbled in the answer for five-across-six-down, her mind began to fill with static as a disembodied voice screeched in her head.

 "Please, no! Don't hurt me, please!"

Shattering sounds of teeth breaking; an echoing sinister laugh; wet coughs and splattering blood.

Tuesday pinched the bridge of her nose and drowned out the evasive inhuman shouts with a gulp of bitter coffee. Her temples throbbing something fierce.

"Ughh," she groaned as her vision filled with flares of light, a cold tingling shooting up her spine. The sensations were chased away by the familiar snoring sounds erupting from her father's burly chest over by the couch. His nasal rumble filled the small two-bedroom house with a conjoined dining and kitchen area with a billowing strength.

"Thanks, Dad," she whispered in relief, her father too deep in slumber to have heard her.

Tuesday poured the rest of her coffee into a thermos and washed up the dishes -making sure to put the morning's leftovers in a tupperware box in the fridge for when he woke up.

She grabbed her keys and slipped into her work overalls, her hand almost at the door when she caught a whiff of smoke from the pair of socks on the floor. With a sigh and a roll of her eyes, Tuesday grabbed her dad's socks and ventured into his room to pick up the discarded clothing left in scattered piles on his bedroom floor, stuffing them into the ancient washing machine before she grabbed his bedroom alarm clock and set it for 3 pm, placing it by the side table next to the couch so he won't sleep through it. She kissed him goodbye and hopped into her crappy jalopy on her way to work.

***

The sound of welding, hammering and an old tuned-out radio filled the grease smelling, poorly lit garage at Fix-em Up Auto Repair. Tuesday found the disorienting loudness of the small space comforting. It made it harder for her to hear the voices.

Whilst waist-deep in the engine of a yellow buggy, Tuesday saw a pair of dusty, worn-out combat boots walk her way. A smile creeping on her face.

"Hey, little missy, I'm looking to get a tune-up. Know who I can speak to about that?"

Tuesday removed herself from under the hood and pulled the lever down so it shut with a pathetic thud.

Wiping her hands on her rag, she shifted her toothpick from one cheek to the other, eyeing the man in front of her lasciviously, "Depends… What's the make?"

The blonde tugged on his leather jacket, advancing closer like a hunter on the prowl, "'82 Trans-Am."

Tuesday leaned onto the hood of the buggy, the metal straining under her weight. "Oh! Tough luck, buddy. I only work on real men's cars, like a mustang or a porch." Her tone grew more and more teasing.

"Real men's cars huh?" He took a step forward, his hips toughing her under-thighs.

 "What the hell are you freak?"

Wheezing; metal scraping against metal. A club whizzing through the air, flesh pressed inwards beyond where it should; eyes as black as ink.

Tuesday rubbed at her eyes with a soft mumble, vertigo pushing her further down, toothpick slipping through parted lips.

"Baby," he took her face in his hands, steadying her body. "You good?"

Tuesday clicked her tongue in frustration, "Yeah, just my bloody tinnitus. I'm fine Billy, just a dizzy spell."

Billy scratched at his untended scruff, "You really should get that looked at."

Tuesday rolled her eyes, hopping off the hood and walking towards the work desk area, "Sure, once Jack gives me a raise and I don't need to save up for college anymore."

Billy groaned, kicking his boots as he followed after her, "Again with that pipe-dream. There are more fun things than being glued to a classroom chair listening to depressed old professors who spend most of their time looking up girl's skirts."

"Oh, and I suppose you've got a better idea for what I should do with my future?" Tuesday lifted her eyebrows as she poured the morning's coffee into a paper cup.

"Yeah, I do," Billy leaned against the counter, licking his lips. "You and me, the open road, sleazy motels and greasy diner food."

Zipping down her overalls, Tuesday pulled her arms out of the sleeves, letting the cool air dry the sweat sticking to the hairs on her arms. She huffed, "Sounds charming."

Billy pulled out a cigarette from behind his ear, "Baby, if you wanted charming, you'd be working as a sexy little librarian, shelving books and wearing tight skirts, not beige overalls."

Tuesday popped a painkiller and took a sip of her bitter luke-warm drink, it was as dissatisfying as the quality of the music playing off the radio. Static fizzled in and out and the station's signal kept dropping unexpectedly. She balled her fist and banged on the cheap radio several times until it stopped.

Billy whistled, "You know, on second thought, maybe I don't need that tune-up after all."

A breathy laugh escaped her chapped lips, "Good, because I don't give out freebies." She took another swig. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, but… isn't it your day off?"

"What, I can't come over and visit my girl on my day off?" Billy asked, lit cigarette held between his teeth.

Tuesday shrugged, "Your girl, huh?"

Squinting one eye, Billy leaned close to whisper, "Well I figured since friends don't make a habit of sleeping with each other…"

Tuesday punched his chest, firm muscles colliding with her dainty knuckles. Billy's eyes narrowed when he saw her lower shoulder. In a possessive move, he put out his cigarette on the vinyl counter, a black spot permanently burned into it as he rolled up the rest of her shirt's sleeve and moved her towards the light to get a better look at the purple and yellow mark imposing on her flesh.

"How'd you get this?" His voice held an edge to it, thick eyelashes covering his eyes under a dark hood.

Tuesday looked down at the bruise, previously unaware of its existence. With a nonchalant nod, she said, "Don't know. Must've bumped into something."

Billy unclenched and let her arm go, believing her easily. His silvery-blue eyes shedding their darkness in the process.

 "Son of a bitch! You thought you could kill me?"

The electric hum of fluorescence; the reverberation of shattering glass; a sickly sinking feeling like drowning in tar; cold, frozen-ice cold.

Tuesday shook her head, today was one of the worse days.

"You sure you're okay?" Billy questioned, his hand lifting her chin to meet his penetrating gaze.

For a moment she flirted with the idea of saying no just to see how he'd react, but she knew Billy was coarse, lacking a sensitive touch. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that he had closed that part of him off, forming a tough shell around himself as a form of self-preservation. That closed-off nature of his brought forth a roughness in him that had initially drawn Tuesday to him. It made him a great distraction and a great lay. And right now, she felt desperate for an escape.

Licking her lips, Tuesday leaned in close to nibble at his parted lips. At first, he didn't move, he simply let her lavish his mouth with her tongue. Then with a pleased groan, Billy wrapped his hands around her midriff and pulled her into a deep kiss.

 "You'll pay for tha--"

Quiet: empty, hollow… free.

Tuesday let out a thankful gasp when the voices died out. Looking up she noticed Billy's pupils had diluted with hunger, the saliva on his lips making them shine like a well-maintained paint job.

"Your house empty?" he asked.

"Uh-uh, my dad had a late shift, he'll probably still be there."

Billy's nostrils flared as he let out a deep exhale at the anti-climax.

Tuesday's lips curled upwards at the prospect of an alternative, "What about your car?"

"You read my mind."

"Juan, I'm heading out for an early lunch!" Tuesday shouted at the man in the back office.

"Is Jack, Jack! We're open. Only Juan after closing!" Her boss shouted back with a thick Puerto Rican accent.

"Right, sorry Jack!" Tuesday corrected and Billy scrunched his eyebrows together.

***

Billy's strong grip directed Tuesday in the backseat of his car. Seat buckles, cassette covers and random junk food wrappers pressed into her back, the sound of rustling filling in between the moans and pants.

"Fuck," Billy grumbled as he had issue unbuttoning his tight jeans, his erection bulging against the frame hugging material.

Tuesday giggled as she ran her fingers up his thighs, across his bulge and towards his button.

Billy bit his lip, savouring her exploring touch. With a satisfying pop, his jeans were loosened and he pulled them down to his knees. With greedy fingers, Billy yanked down Tuesday's overalls and pulled her bra over her breasts until it rested just shy of her neck.

Tuesday's open palm pressed against his exposed abs, halting Billy's efforts to undress her. Sighing, he asked, "What is it?"

"You got protection, Romeo?"

Billy riffled through his pockets and a frown grew over his heated gaze, "Son of a bitch!" The muscles in his jaw started working before they uncoiled and his eyes widened at the glovebox.

Reaching over, he pulled out all the cassette's and spare change and moved a hair comb out of the way until he spotted a golden wrapper.

The condom unrolled over his dick with a slapping noise, Tuesday giggled as Billy's face contorted into a painful pursing of his lips for a brief second.

"That wasn't funny," Billy grumbled as he leaned over her.

Tuesday wiggled out of her panties before wrapping her legs around his back, "It was a little funny."

What followed after was a reel of thrusts, hair tugging, gasps and suckling kisses peppered around Tuesday's neck and collarbone. Billy's hips began to sputter as he neared his climax, his thumb adding delicious pressure on Tuesday's clit as her walls undulated and contracted around him. Semen filled the condom and the both of them lay limp in his backseat, the fogged up windows obscuring the ugly view of the garage's empty parking lot.

Tuesday patted Billy on the back, "Nice work, lover boy. I needed that."

Billy's chest vibrated as a bemused laugh tickled her ears, "I don't know about you, but after this work out I could use a bite to eat."

"Food sounds divine right now."

Billy kissed the corner of her eye that folded slightly, pulling himself from inside her, "Fries?"

Tuesday nodded.

***

"What was with that ‘Jack not Juan’ stuff earlier?" Billy dipped two fries in ketchup while Tuesday slurped up her coke through a red and white straw.

"Mmm, its stupid but it's sort of a sales thing. Jack noticed a bump up in his commissions when people thought the owner of Fix-em Up was named Jack and not Juan, so he stuck with it."

"You're right, that is stupid."

"C'est la vie."

In the corner of her eye, Tuesday noticed a family of six sitting in a booth by the window. The neon open sign bathing all four kids in bright magenta. One of the kids looked up at her and pulled at his eyelids, tongue sticking out. His mother, noticing this, pulled him by the ear and scolded him in stern whispers.

"Fucking brats," Billy murmured as he lounged deeper in the seat.

Tuesday redirected her gaze to the humming florescence above, "C'est la vie."

***

After her lunch break, Tuesday rapped on Jack's door with a take-out bag in hand, loud Cuban music playing from within.

"Si?"

Tuesday opened the door halfway, "Lunch."

"Ah, gracias."

"De nada."

Jack beamed her a thankful smile, "You finish with the bug?"

"Mmm, almost, just need to oil her up and check the brake line."

Jack gave her a thumbs up, "Okay."

"Did Sam fix the gato?"

Jack looked at her with a confused expression, mustard on his cheek from the burger, "The cat?"

Tuesday slapped her palm on her forehead at the obvious linguistic slip-up before making a cranking motion with her hands, "The jack."

"Ah, the gato!" Jack said in recognition. "Yes, he send it. It's in the back. He wanted to charge extra dinero. That Estúpido. I told him I know the prices, he can't cheat me. I may not speak good Inglés, but I'm no idiot either."

"I told you not to go to Sam, he's… a hard-ass."

"Hard-ass?"

"Forget it, I'm going to finish up on the bug."

Jack gave another thumbs up in exchange of words, his mouth full of bread and meat.

 The burn of liquid cascading down a dry gullet leaving behind a buzz of alcohol assimilating through veins; a rapid heartbeat; tingles of adrenaline swirling in an intoxicating downward spiral.

“Again?” Tuesday braced her temples, body swaying yet again. "Come on!"

When the dizzy spell passed, she picked up the car jack and placed it under the buggy. As she cranked the lever, the jack groaned suspiciously. Tuesday cocked her head to the side, taking a step back and eyeing the jack to see if it would hold. Despite the alarming groans, the car didn't move an inch.

"Sam, you better have fixed it like you said," she thought aloud.

With a gulp of air, Tuesday pulled the creeper to her feet so she could sit on it, fixing a head torch onto her head.

Using the floor as an oar, Tuesday rolled herself under the car and started working underneath the car.

While she busied herself, another set of tires rolled up to the garage and the sound of car doors being opened and slammed echoed through the room.

"Hello?" A masculine voice called out as the bell dinged. Several smaller footsteps gathered after him in the garage too. An argument playing out between two kids about a film or something other.

When Jack didn't answer, and the bell dinged for a second time, Tuesday shouted out, "Over here. Gimmie a moment!"

The crank groaned again and then a nut flew off its side and suddenly the car started to plummet down. Tuesday braced her face as everything moved in slow motion. When a second past and Tuesday remained uncrushed, she peeked through her folded arms and was shocked to see the car moving away from her body, gliding over to the side where it landed with a loud crash.

"Holy shit," she mouthed in disbelief, eyelids pulled back as far as they could go as she craned her head to the group of people standing by the counters.

A girl with short hair wiped the blood from her nose with the inside of her flannel shirt. The group of boys standing next to her with mouths gaping open -though something told her it wasn't in amazement from what she just saw. The oldest among them rushed to her side, sneakers squeaking against the concrete floor, hands bracing hers as he helped her up.

"You're Steve Harrington," Tuesday recognised him from high-school. "And that's Nancy Wheeler's younger brother."

"I guess we can't pretend to be out of towners," Steve half-joked as he ran his hands through his hair and then around Tuesday's frame in a pre-emptive effort to ensure she didn't topple over from shock. "You're uh… Wednesday right?"

"Tuesday," her voice was soft, bewildered even. Her eyes narrowing now at the group of kids who backed away without losing eye contact, "What…" She looked up at Steve. "What the fuck just happened?"

  To be continued...

Permatags:  @gruffle1 @thechickvic @notawarriorjustyet @savethehoneeybees   

Meet Cute & Robin’s Girl taglist: @chims-kookies @electroma89 @thechickvic @mochminnie @timeladygallifrey

[all-of-the-imagines-for-eve]

Queen ~ Billy Hargrove (Part One)

A/n: Don’t gag, this is more of an x Steve than anything it just happens later lol.

Word Count: 1466

It's hard to believe you don't remember me at all. Am I hard to recognize? You say, "nice to meet you" every time. Yeah and I made you laugh- I still remember what I said.

My shoulder slammed into someone and I turned, eyes wide. “I’m so sorry,” I apologized genuinely.

The boy I’d run into turned to look to me, his blue eyes finding mine with a critical coldness and a fake smile. He ran a hand through his blonde hair. “No problem. I don’t mind a beautiful girl getting close.” He did a smirkish kind of grin and I swallowed, shuffling awkwardly.

“Okay, well, cool. Glad you’re not hurt.”

I turned to walk away but he caught my arm. “Can I get your name? As consolation…”

His eyes twinkled but I just cocked my head. “I… Y/n. My name is Y/n.”

Nodding his head in a mock bow, his grinned wider. It somehow seemed flirtatious and sinful without having the hint of a smirk or a suggestive meaning. As if he himself was so dirty that it came through every inch of him and seeped into every action he did. “Nice to meet you.” He didn’t even feel the need to introduce himself he was that sure I knew who he was.

Then again, everyone in this school knew Billy Hargrove.

The thing was, he should know me too. I’d introduced myself a couple dozen times. But every time, it seemed his brain had been washed of me all over again. For someone who claimed I was beautiful, he sure forgot me easily. Perhaps it was all the other girls who he had an easy time getting to which took up so much space in his head that he didn’t have space for me. Perhaps he did remember me, he just wanted to make me feel bad by pretending he didn’t.

It was when I realized he was stuck on my mind and had been consistently throughout the rest of the day that I realized another possibility. Perhaps he knew that it drove me crazy not being sure why he was doing what he was doing. Perhaps he enjoyed being on my mind.

Well. Being on a girl’s mind in general. Not mine specifically. Hm. Still, what a thought. Perhaps this boy was more clever than I realized… How dangerous.

Guess I shouldn't be surprised, you say, "nice to meet you" every time. I know we got a lot of mutual friends. Don't say my name, don't come up in your conversations.

Without even thinking, I dropped my backpack and flew between the two boys, my arms flying out to place each of my hands on each of their chests. “Hey!” I shouted. They both looked at me. “Let’s calm down, okay?”

Steve Harrington was the first to speak of the pair. “You wouldn’t understand but he needs to be pummeled.”

I looked at him. “What has violence ever solved?” I snapped. “You both get roughed up, someone worse than the other. Nothing’s solved. It’s not going to make you hate him less. It’s not going to make the problem go away. Just WALK AWAY, Harrington. He isn’t worth it.” Billy, on the other side of my other hand, rose his hand and placed it over mine. I looked over, eyes widened in surprise. His hand was warm and I couldn’t focus suddenly. “Plus,” I said without thinking. “You’d probably be the one on the ground at the end of it.” I looked back at Steve. “Haven’t you gotten the shit beaten out of you enough for one lifetime yet?”

Obviously offended, he stepped back. He winced when Billy laughed and I swallowed a smile. I felt bad for insulting Steve. I didn’t know why I even said it. “You heard the pretty lady,” Billy called out to Steve. “Get LOST, Harrington.”

Steve looked between me and Billy for a second or two and that’s when I realized my had was still under Billy’s, on his chest. I pulled it away, clasping my hands and trying to forget how warm he was. “Whatever,” the brunette boy grumbled before scoffing and turning away, leaving Billy and I alone.

I turned to Billy, about to make another joke about him being trouble or something to get him to laugh again. He spoke first, though, cutting my chance off. “And who do I have to thank for saving me an annoying time dealing with a brat?”

My heart sunk and the excitement was replaced by irritation. “Y/n,” I snapped. “And Steve isn’t a brat. He’s pretty lame in a fight but he’s a good guy. Unlike some others I know.” I looked him up and down, meaning for it to be in disgust and indicate that I was talking about him. But he thrived under my gaze, smirking and crossing his arms. He looked good and he fucking knew it.

Turning away from him, I moved back to my backpack and pulled it off the ground, throwing it over my shoulder again. He whistled as I walked away and I walked faster to get around the corner and out of sight as soon as possible. I hated him. I really fucking hated him.

Who crowned you queen? You think you're too cool, making beautiful look ugly. The way you put yourself above me. You treat me like I got nothing on you. Making beautiful look ugly.

There were a lot of things that could have happened that night. A lot of places I could have ended up. Making out with Billy Hargrove in his car was NOT one of the places I had originally imagined when I thought of all the possibilities.

It had started when I got to the party, my friend Jessica getting me to dance. We weren’t close friends by a long shot, but all of her friends had a date to this party so she had asked if I would go with her, just to be the designated driver if nothing else. So I ended up at a party I hadn’t even known was going on, dancing with Jessica to the music and laughing as her very much drunk self completely lost her mind. The night was off to a pretty good start.

Billy had come up to me out of nowhere, placing his hands on my waist and pulling me against him. I gasped but his hands tugged me, encouraging me to keep moving. I turned to face him and he smiled. He was close and the noise and people and flashing lights made me dizzy. His eyes seemed to take all of my clothes off and I felt exposed. I was so surprised and caught off guard that I didn’t even think to push him off of me.

Eventually the heat had gotten to me and Billy tilted his head, taking in my sweaty body and my choppy breathing. “Do you want to go outside?” He asked, genuinely sounding concerned. “It’s colder out there. It’ll help you cool down. And breathe.”

Like a moron, I’d agreed. He guided me to his car, his hand on the small of my back and his pinky brushing the exposed skin of my back where my shirt rode up just a bit. He opened the passenger door and motioned me in, waiting until I was completely inside to close it. The gentlemanly action caught me off guard.

From there, honestly, it escalated pretty quickly. He got into the driver’s seat and we began talking. I leaned forward, placing my forehead on the cool material of the dashboard. He put his hand on my back. I looked up in surprise a he leaned over, pressing his lips to mine. I melted into him and kissed back. He was such a good kisser.

He pulled at me and then I was on top of him, straddling him with my hands in his hair. His hands were on my waist, thumbs brushing the bottom of my shirt. His hands were rising, slipping under my shirt and getting higher and higher-

Leaning back, I closed my eyes so he wouldn’t be able to distract me. I caught his hands with both of mine, pulling them off of me. I ran a hand through my hair, shaking my head. “What’s wrong, Beautiful?”

That caught my attention. I opened my eyes, looking at him very seriously. “What’s my name?” He still hadn’t said it a single time since I’d first said it to him the first time. His face fell into complacent defeat, sitting back in his chair as he sighed. Reaching over, I popped his door open, slipping out of the car. He didn’t even give an effort to stop me and my eyes watered.

There was no excuse. I knew what kind of boy Billy was. I wasn’t drunk. I had every opportunity to push him off and ignore him but I didn’t. I straightened, putting my chin up and shoulders back.

No more Billy Hargrove. I was done. Very, very done.

It took me five minutes to find Jessica and draw the line on the night. I wanted to go home. Now. She didn’t ask for an explanation or ask why I was upset, but I was starting to think it was more just because she didn’t actually care rather than to give me space.

-

FTL: @iwannadiehere @alexa-playafricabytoto

[cometoceantrenches]

its for the extra credits [4]

SUMMARY: Seventeen-year-old Amaya Sloan didn’t really like this. The situation was just thrust upon her. What was it you ask? Well, its to tutor Hawkins’ resident Bad Boy: Billy Hargrove. Though things take a turn and it isn’t just about tutoring anymore…

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Just when you think you can escape, fate thinks differently and decides to spite you… or play with you. It’s all the same in the end anyways.

A/N: This is more of a filler. I honestly don’t know where I’m going with this. :/ ALSO WHOOWEE IM BACK WITH THIS SHIT ASDFGHJKL I hope yall enjoy 

Lili jumped out of the white Catalina, her backpack bobbing up and down behind her. Amaya followed suit as she absentmindedly flipped her hair out of her eyes. She turned, expecting to see her younger sister waiting beside her but saw her running off towards the Middle School building.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey!” The older of the two called out making the other stop in her tracks. The seventeen-year-old ducked into the car through the open window and pulled out a paper bag filled with packed lunch. “Don’t forget your lunch, dummy.”

Lili’s expression melted into a sheepish one as she stepped up to her sister. “Thanks, ate.”

“Someone’s gotta watch over you.” Amaya shrugged. “Now go on. You’re gonna be late for your AV thing.”

The thirteen-year-old beamed up at her and ran off towards the school, seeing the rest of the Party near the entrance and joining them after. Amaya simply smiled to herself, slinging her bag onto her shoulder and walking to the High School building. At the entrance, she was immediately greeted by Nancy.

“Morning, Amaya.” The brunette greeted, a small smile adorning her rosy features.

The two have been friends since pre-school. The two were of the same age, though due to Amaya starting her education earlier, she was always one level ahead of her. The Sloans lived across the Wheelers, making the two girls playmates since children. Nancy and Amaya shared a lot of memories with each other, always inseparable. Their friendship only grew stronger once Barb came into the mix. It was just the three of them against the world.

Things changed the second Barb disappeared. The eventual fight that all friends must experience came. It wasn’t really a screaming match, it was more of a heavy tension between each other. They spent less time with each other, making their relationship rocky, especially when Nancy broke up with Steve. In time, they made up and went back to their regular routine but there was always an underlying feeling that things will never be the same.  

“Good morning, Nance. Where’s Jonathan?”

“Here.” Jonathan came from the hallway next to them slipped into step beside Nancy. “What’s up?”

“I’m looking for Steve. He isn’t outside by his car like usual and I have his essay with corrections.”

Jonathan shrugged. “I saw him head over to the Middle School building. Maybe he just went to check up on the kids.”

“Yeah and he isn’t around this area to just jump attack you.” Nancy added, the three of them stopping at her locker.

Amaya chuckled at that. It was a thing Steve did often- jump out of nowhere and haul your ass off the floor. Most of the time he earned a slap to the shoulder. Once it was a punch because he decided to do it to Jonathan and the latter’s instincts kicked in.

“I feel like he will though.” Jonathan said as he waited patiently for Nancy to finish swapping her books, offering to hold her stuff so it wouldn’t be difficult for her.

As predicted, the said boy came up behind Amaya, this time clamping his hands down firmly on the girl’s shoulders only to have his foot stomped on by accident. She screamed in surprise as he immediately let go to release a howl of pain. The Filipina clutched a hand to her chest while Steve hopped up and down, as if his jumping would ease the pain off of his foot. Nancy and Jonathan were laughing, watching as Amaya landed a weak punch to the brunet’s shoulder.

“Speak of the Devil.” Nancy chuckled. “You really have to stop doing that, Steve.”

“I thought you guys would be used to it by now.” Said boy explained as he slowly set his foot down.

Their conversation was cut short when the bell rang. Nancy clicked her locker shut and the couple bid their goodbyes before scurrying off to their respective classes. At the end of the hallways, Amaya and Steve split.

“Oh wait!” The former jogged up to him and pulled out a rumpled piece of paper before handing it over. “I already added my corrections to it. Good luck!” She brisk-walked over to her Mathematics class, taking her usual seat near the back.

Classes went on as they usually did. A pop quiz here, some notetaking there and a few unanswered questions. The bell rang again, signaling the end of the current class and the start of the one before lunch. For Amaya, it was Chemistry.

She couldn’t help but feel a wave of dread wash over her like a bucket of ice cold water being dumped over her head. When she stepped into the classroom, she noticed that Billy was already on his seat, his feet propped up on his desk as he sent flirtatious winks over to Marlene Evans who was sat a couple of rows away from him to the right.

The blond’s view was obstructed when Amaya placed her things down in front of him. A low groan of protest escaped him. He let his head loll back, clearly unamused by the situation.

“Sloan,” He grunted. “You’re blocking my view.”

“Too bad Hargrove, that’s all you’re getting today.” The Filipina replied, neatly stacking her materials needed on the space of the rounded table the classrooms had. “Explain the VSEPR Theory.”  

Another groan of protest. “Sloan-“

“VSEPR-“

“Valence Shell Electron Pair Repulsion theory also known as Gillespie-Nyholm theory is when the valence electrons are placed far enough from each other to reduce repulsion against each other.” Billy drawled, inspecting the scratches of his worn-boots.

Amaya straightened her shoulder and inhaled haughtily. “Okay… correct.” To be honest she wasn’t really expecting that.

Unfortunately this didn’t go unnoticed by the blond. “Look, I know you think of me as an idiot, don’t say otherwise it’s written all over your face,” The corners of his lips tugged ever so slightly when her face burned red from embarrassment. “But that’s only because I choose to not pay attention to shit as boring as this, m’kay?”

“Why?”

“Why not?” He shrugged. “I’m passing anyway.”

“But you’re throwing your intelligence out the window..!” Amaya huffed. “You could do so much more and you’re just taking your chances for granted just because you don’t find the topic interesting.”

For a moment, she saw his eyes flash with both anger and fear- like a cornered dog bearing it’s teeth, trying to ward off hostiles, as if what she said had triggered something inside of him. And in that moment, she felt as if maybe there’s a Billy she hasn’t quite seen yet. Sooner or later that helpless look disappeared and was replaced by amusement and the old shit-eating grin returned to his face.

Billy gave a low whistle, straightening up a bit. “Y’know Sloan, I’m starting to think you have a thing for me. You’re just displaying it in a weird, not-so-sexy way.”

The red that dusted the said girl’s cheeks deepened into a bright scarlet. Dammit- even if she hated him and every fibre of his being, she couldn’t deny the effect his smirk had. She felt like one of those crappy teen novels that she came across in the bookstore. “Wh- I- You-“

“Aww, look at you. You’re speechless.”

“Well, well… well I only care because I don’t want to fucking tutor you anymore when I know you’re capable of these fucking things.” Amaya snapped when she finally found her voice, but it was weak and cracked. Her arms flailed overhead for a moment.

Billy only chuckled. The bell rang once more and the teacher came in, signaling the start of class. Amaya only huffed again and turned in her seat to pay attention to the teacher. Shaking his head, a smirk still present on his face, the blond decided to do the same.

Mrs. Drake clapped her hands to capture the students’ attention. The lines on her face creased as she gave a small, somewhat cynical smile. “So students,” She practically chirped. “I hope you studied because I have a surprise quiz prepared for you.”

Her sharp eyes seemed to drill into the students she deemed “lazy” behind the moon-rimmed spectacles she wore. Like a vulture eyeing her prey, she narrowed in on the students who tensed or seemed to be anxious, squirming a little in their seats. All high students, no matter what year level, ethnicity or interests, agreed that Mrs. Drake fucking thrived on the pupils’ misery. Suppose it has something to do with the dismay brought when her son dropped out of college.

As the middle-aged woman handed out the printed exams, students gave each other sideward glances, a secret message saying one thing: she’s batshit crazy. Mrs. Drake shimmied to the front and cleared her throat.

“The whole period is dedicated to the quiz. Take your time, or not. Just make sure you don’t fail my class. And don’t let me catch you cheating. You may start.”

And with that, the class shot off into answering the exam. Time seemed to drag as it went on. Students scratched their heads, racking their brains for answers. The sound of pens scratching against the paper or the friction of the eraser was heard here and there.

Amaya took a peek at her surroundings. There were people who were tapping their pens against the table, their minds ticking. Others were flying down the whole page, returning every once in a while to correct a small mistake. The rest were either done or didn’t give a shit. Billy was one of the people who was almost done.

The girl took a look down at her own paper. She herself was almost done as well- just a few more questions to go. So she answered it. But as she did so, she felt self-consciousness bite at the back of her head. What if there were many questions that she had answered wrong? What if she got wrong answers as karma for thinking Billy is lower than her?

Waving it off, she finished the last of her questionnaire when the bell rang. Almost at once a whole wave of relieved students sighed, glad that their test was over. Some worried, thinking that they would fail while some were frustrated, being unable to finish on time.

Each student went out of the classroom after handing their exam over to Mrs. Drake. Amaya was one of the last people since she sat near the back. Billy had gone before her already so when Mrs. Drake gave her a pointed yet unreadable look, chills ran down her spine and gave her an uneasy feeling.

She was just two steps out of the classroom when a firm grip reached out to her arm. As reflex, her foot jutted out to stomp on her assailant only for her to trip a little towards the direction she stomped at. It was Billy who chuckled at her clumsiness, his cronies along with Carol snickering behind him.

“Can’t help but notice that you were struggling a little during the test, Sloan. Looks like I’m not the one who needs tutoring.” He drawled, letting her arm go.

Wait what the fuck? How would he know that? Was he looking at me? Amaya thought, quickly shaking it away as she stormed off in the other direction, towards the cafeteria where she would meet her friends. She heard Tommy H.’s boisterous laughter as she neared the cafeteria.

God they’re so annoying.

“Whoa Maya,” Steve’s voice snapped her out of her trance, making her bump into him. His arms reached out to steady her. “You okay there? You seem distracted.”

Amaya shook her head as she regained focus. “Yeah- just, Mrs. Drake and her tests.”

Steve let his tongue poke out as e made an overly exaggerated disgusted face. “Bleghhh.” He shuddered, making Amaya laugh a little.

“Come on weirdo. We gotta eat.”

For now, maybe she’d have to let Billy slide. But she’ll never forget how his attitude had suddenly shaken her up that day.