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ashcal99 · 1 year

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Certain Things : Leah Clearwater IV

Chapter Four

"Something about you, It's like an addiction, Hit me with your best shot honey, I've got no reason to doubt you, 'Cause certain things hurt, And you're my only virtue"

Summary: Conner Swan moves to Forks Washington in hopes to help his sister Bella through her breakup with Edward. In hopes to find happiness again. He finds much more.

Warnings: Eventual smut (18+ only), mentions of death, depression, loss, antidepressants, general angst, slow burn, mentions of suicide

Words: 4.3k

A/N: Comment if I missed any warning or anything plz thnx.

Soundtrack

Previous Chapter

Series Masterlist

——————

March 4th, 2006

It had been weeks since Jacob had gotten sick, and yet, Bella had heard no word from the boy. As far as she knew, he had come down with mono, or so Billy had told her. Day after day she called, but it was always Billy who had answered, claiming the teen was still too sick to come to the phone. Eventually, even Billy had stopped picking up, and soon, the voicemail box had been filled. Bella had felt helpless. Fearing that she had lost the one true friend she had. The pain came back with a vengeance. Now that Jake had left, the hole in her heart seemed to grow twice the size.

Conner saw the pain return, as hard as she had tried to hide it, and he was furious. It was clear that the Quileutes had been using the sickness as an excuse to avoid the girl, that much was obvious, as the silence from the teen had gone on far too long. He was just unsure as to why. Frankly, he didn’t exactly care what the excuse was. All he saw was the progress Bella was making in healing going to waste.

It was a Saturday, his day off, when Bella finally decided to confront the boy. Conner had made plans to go fishing with his father and Harry Clearwater, but he suddenly regretted making the plans. He turned to Bella. “Look, I don’t have to go fishing today.” He started.

Bella waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah, you do. What are you talking about?” She asked. “Just be careful.” She said directing the words to her father and brother.

“We always are.” Charlie spoke up, giving the girl a reassuring smile.

Harry spoke up. “Those bears won’t get the drop on me, Bella.” He joked smirking. “My kung foo is strong.” He added teasingly, earning a small chuckle from the other two men.

Conner nudged his shoulder. “Yeah, right. Your reflexes are so lightning fast.” He said laughing.

Harry scoffed. “I have no idea what you mean, I’m practically a chetah.” He smiled proudly as the three walked out the front door, to Harry’s truck. Conner leaned down, picking up a pebble on the driveway, quickly chucking it in the man’s direction. The tiny rock hit the man right in the middle of his forehead, his eyes going wide. Charlie and Conner doubled over with laughter, seeing the shocked look on Harry’s face.

The tree climbed into the truck, setting their fishing gear in the bed. Conner sat silently in the back seat as the two other man held light conversation, staring out the window as the trees blurred past. Charlie had been talking about Jake, complaining of the teens absence. “I just don’t understand what happened. It’s been over a month now.” Charlie said exasperatedly.

“I wouldn’t worry about it, Charlie. I’m sure he’ll come around eventually.” Henry said dismissively.

Charlie sighed. “I hope so.” He said, staying silent for a moment. “Anyway, how are Leah and Seth doing? How’s high school going for him?” He asked changing the subject.

“He’s doing great. Straight A’s.” He said proudly. “Leah’s okay, still keeping to herself mostly.” He said, voice dropping slightly. “She’s still pretty broken up over Sam. I think she’s mainly angry at this point.” He continued.

Conner’s eyebrows furrowed, not sure what the man meant. “I didn’t know you had a daughter.” He interjected. He hadn’t spent a lot of time with the man, usually spending the days he came over working or busying himself with yard word to distract himself. He had found out about Harry’s son, having overhead a previous conversation, but a daughter was news to him. He found himself uncharacteristically intrigued by the topic.

Harry glanced towards the man in the rearview mirror of the truck. “Yeah, Leah. She’s about your age I’d say. Doesn’t get out much besides work, I’m sure you haven’t met before.” He said.

Conner quirked an eyebrow. He hadn’t known any of Charlie’s friends had any kids closer in age to him, granted he didn’t get out much himself. The only friends he had was Bella and Jake, and clearly the latter wasn’t going too well. Conner sighed, dropping the subject and turning back to gaze out the truck’s window.

——————

March 11th, 2006

Another week had passed since the fishing trip, not much having changed on the Bella and Jacob front. She had come home that night, upset from whatever Jake had said to her. She claimed to not want to take about it, but she was clearly upset from whatever had happened.

It was a rare sunny morning when Bella decided to go back to the reservation to see the boy. Conner had just finished off drying the pan he had used to cook breakfast when she came running down the stairs in a rush. He whipped his head in her direction, shocked to see her with such energy. She had spent the majority of the past week moping around, so he had wondered what had changed. He stepped out from the kitchen, blocking her path. “Where are you going?” He questioned, one eyebrow raised in curiosity.

She huffed. “I have to go talk to Jake.” She rushed out, clearly in a hurry for whatever reason.

Conner’s face dropped, the crease between his brows deepening. “Okay then, I’m coming too.” He stated determinedly.

Bella begun to panic. There was no way she was getting her brother involved in this whole mess. She had finally remembered about the Quileute legends and she wasn’t about to drag Conner into it too, knowing it would be dangerous. “No.” She answered bluntly.

Conner huffed in annoyance. “Bella I’m not going to let you go over there alone again. Last time you came back in tears.” He reasoned. “I’ll stay in my truck, but at least let me drive you.” He concluded.

Bella sighed in defeat. “Fine.” She agreed, in too much of a rush to argue with the man.

The scenery whipped past the truck as Conner sped down the winding road. Bella had already made it clear that she was in a rush, so Conner drove swiftly thought the turns, trying to get the to house quickly. His tires slid slightly on the gravel road as his truck came to a halt in front of the Black residence. He turned to the girl. “I’m right here if you need me, okay?” He reassured. Bella nodded, quickly swinging the door open and dropping her feet to the ground. Conner sat there, watching as she pushed herself past Billy and into the house.

He had started to grow antsy, not having a view of his sister when his attention dragged to the girl storming from the house towards a group of shirtless guys. Okay? It definitely wasn’t that warm, he thought. He gripped the door, throwing it open as he watched his sister get in one’s face, yelling angrily about something. He slammed the door, rushing towards his sister. The tanned male started shaking violently, his entire body vibrating.

“Bella!” Jake yelled, bursting through the back door of the house. He sprinted towards the girl, his body starting to shake as well.

“Run!” Bella screamed, turning and sprinting towards the boy. “Jake, run!” She repeated. Conner stopped in his tracks, jaw going slack as he watched the scene play out in front of him.

A growl ripped through Jacobs throat. In a burst of fur and and shreds of clothing, the two shaking figures were replaced with gigantic menacing wolves. The two snapped their jaws at each other bearing their teeth threateningly. Conner watched in awe not knowing how to react.

WHAT THE FUCK

The two wolves tackled each other, chasing themselves out of the clearing. The two siblings stood there for a moment, mouths agape. So much for keeping Conner out of it.

Conner stepped forwards to the other men, sucking in a deep breath. "So are you guys gonna turn into giant dogs too, or should I wait for another time?” He asked unease gripping his throat.

——————

Conner stepped slowly through the narrow doorway of the house. He hadn’t received much of an explanation on the way to Sam and Emily’s, the others claiming he would get his answers soon. “Can someone please explain to me why I just watched a boy that I've known his whole life turn into a very large dog?” Conner asked, growing impatient with the silence.

Jared smirked to the man. “It’s kind of a long story.” He explained.

Conner huffed impatiently. “I’ve got time.” He reasoned. He needed an explanation before he went insane. It's not everyday that you witness a close friend randomly morph into an animal.

The woman in the kitchen turned, spotting the to two siblings. “Who’s this?” She asked, sending the two a small smile. Conner glanced over to the woman, eyes pausing on the long jagged scars running down her face. This must be Emily, he decided, quickly diverting his gaze, not wanting to seem rude from staring.

“Bella and Conner Swan.” Jared explained.

A smirk grew on Emily’s face. “So, you’re the vampire girl.” She said. Conner’s head shot to his sister. First wolves and now Vampires? What’s next? Big Foot?

Conner turned to his sister, gritting his teeth. “Vampires, Bella? You have a lot of explaining to do.” He seethed, glaring at the girl.

Bella grimaced, turning to answer Emily. “So you’re the wolf girl.” She said, ignoring her brother. She would clearly have to spend time later explaining things to the man, but for now, she focused on getting some answers of her own.

“Guess so.” Emily smirked. “Well, I’m engaged to one.” She clarified, setting a heaping plate of muffins on the table. Hands swarmed the plate, grabbing muffin after muffin. “Save some for your brothers.” She chastised the boys. “And guests first. Muffin?” She added, offering the plate to the two siblings.

Conner reached forwards, snagging one of the warm pastries. “Sure, thanks.” He muttered softly.

“So, that explanation you wanted.” Embry started, mouth full of muffin. “We’re descendants of wolves.” He stated simply, as if that explained everything. Conner supposed that was the best he was going to get, coming to to the conclusion that he should just except the fact that he didn’t live in the world he thought he had. There was clearly a lot that he had been oblivious to previously, and he planned to get some more answers out of Bella later.

He sighed, pulling a chair out from the table, giving up, as he slouched over, stuffing the muffin into his mouth. His eyes widened, a soft groan falling from his lips. “Compliments to the chef.” He said, eyeing the muffin.

“She is pretty amazing isn’t she?” A voice coming from behind said. A large muscled man made his way towards the woman, taking her scared face in his hands, planting a kiss to her lips. This must be sam, Conner concluded. He turned his focus to the muffin, feeling like he was intruding on something he shouldn’t be seeing.

——————

The siblings returned home a few hours later. Luckily, their father was still out, having left to go hunting again with Harry. Slamming the front door behind him, he followed his sister, deciding now was as good as any to talk things through.

Bella looked to the man apprehensively. “Conner… I can explain.” She said hesitantly.

Conner scoffed. “How could you lie to me like that?” He asked, anger filling his voice.

Bella stared, eyes wide. It had been a long time since she had seem him so angry, him usually being so timid. “Technically,” She started hesitantly, “I didn’t lie, I just didn’t tell you everything.” She explained.

Suddenly it him. “Is that why?” He asked, earning a confused look from the girl. “Is he why you stopped answering my calls?” He clarified. His heart ached in protest, not sure if he wanted to hear the truth.

“I-I knew I would end up letting it slip on accident, and I couldn’t chance you being put in danger.” She said, trying to justify her actions.

Conner pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to push back the building tears. “Bella, have you ever stopped to think about the danger this put you in?” He asked.

Bella looked down to the floor. “That’s not the same.” She muttered in defense.

Conner scoffed. “Not the same? You know what, you’re right. It’s worse. Bella, for fuck's sake, he's killed people. The whole family has.” He yelled, throwing his hands in the air. His voice raised in volume, quickly losing his temper with the teen. All the years he had spent trying to protect her, meanwhile there she was willingly endangering her own life.

Bella’s forehead creased in anger. ”He's not like that anymore, they don't feed on humans.” She tried to defend.

The man looked at his sister in disgust. “Do you even hear yourself?” He asked.

“Anymore, Bella. He’s killed before, and it’s clear that you know that. You're trying to justify killing. He's a murderer, Bells.” He said bluntly, glaring at the girl.

“Don't talk about him like that.” She said shortly.

Conner felt like he had been stabbed in the heart. “Does your life really mean that little to you?” He asked sadly. “Are the people that love you that expendable to you?” Bella stood for a moment, mouth open, looking for an answer that she knew she couldn’t find.

"Con-" He flinched at the nickname. Nicknames were for close relationships, not strangers, and right now he didn’t recognize the girl standing in front of him. "I'm sorry." She said.

Conner felt the tears begin to spill from his eyes. "Bella, I lost the love of my life. You know what that kind of loss feels like, but she didn't just leave me like Edward left you. She died. Died with my child. A child I didn't even know about until she was gone." He paused, his voice cracking. "And on top of all of this, the one person.” He sucked in a breath “The one person I thought I could count on left me too. Made me feel like I was the burden” He cried out, tears flowing freely down his cheeks.

"Conner, I'm sorry, I-" Bella started.

"No." Conner interrupted. "Sorry isn't good enough anymore. I thought our relationship meant more than that to you, but obviously it doesn't mean shit." He ended, turning, walking out the door, and slamming it behind him.

——————

March 18th, 2006

A week had passed since Conner had found out the truth. A week of awkward silence and cold shoulders. Charlie could tell something had happened between the two, but wasn’t sure how to approach the subject. Conner had been working non-stop trying to avoid the teen, having only been home to sleep as of late. If he wasn’t working, he was over in la push, having been spending more time will Billy. After everything that had happened, he felt like the man was the only person who would understand even a fraction of what he was going through, even if most of what they did was watch sports games together. If anything, it was a good distraction.

He had just finished a shift at the diner when he received the call. Looking down at the illuminated screen, he read Jacob’s name. Clicking to answer the call, he brought the phone to his ear.“Hey man, what’s up” He asked casually.

“Bella just almost died.” The teen answered bluntly, causing Conner to stop in his tracks.

His heartbeat pounded in his ears. “W-what?” He stuttered out, blinking rapidly.

Jacob took a deep breath. “She thought it was a great idea to try out cliff diving today.” Conner heard Bella saying something about it being not that big of a deal in the background. Of course. The girl had a death wish.

Conner sucked in a breath “Jesus.” He said.

“She's okay. We're heading back your place now.” Jake reassured.

Conner let out a heavy sigh. “I'll be there in ten.” He stated, hanging up the phone. Leave it to Bella. He climbed into his truck and hurriedly pulled out of the parking lot. He tried his best not to get a speeding ticket on the way home, knowing that would be an awkward conversation to have with his father.

No matter how mad he was at Bella, he still loved her, and the fact that she had almost died just in the last hour made him uneasy. He would've never forgiven himself if he had lost her. The last conversation they had, having ended with the both of them screaming at each other.

The man blew out a breath relief as a pulled up to the house, spotting his sister’s truck in the driveway. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he noticed the other car parked horizontally on the side of the road. He wasn’t too familiar with cars, but he knew this one looked expensive. He didn't know anybody that would've even had the money to rent a car like that.

Conner approached the front door hesitantly. Twisting the knob, he found it to be already unlocked. He stepped in slowly.”Hello?” He greeted cautiously, turning the corner to the living room. Jacob stood glaring at Bella who was wrapped in two pale arms. Conner looked up to the pale face of the girl, chills running up his spine. Vampire. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but he did. There was just something about the girl. She was unnaturally perfect, just like he remembered Edward to be.

The short pixie-like girl glanced up. “Oh, hi. You must be Conner.” She greeted. “I'm Alice Cullen.” Conner's back tensed. So he was correct.

“I had a vision of you.” Alice said, turning her attention back to Bella. “You jumped off a cliff. Why in the hell would you try and kill yourself?” She asked angrily.

“I didn't try to kill myself. I was cliff diving. Recreationally. It was fun.” Bella reassured.

“I have never met anyone more prone to life threatening idiocy.” Alice huffed out in annoyance.

Conner scoffed. “I wholeheartedly agree.” He said irritatedly.

Bella started again. “Did you- did you tell him?” Edward, he assumed.

“No. He only calls once every few months. He said he wants to be alone…and what is the god awful wet dog smell?” She asked, turning up her nose from the stench.

Conner crossed his arms, watching the two amusedly. “That's probably me, or Jacob.” Bella said bashfully.

Alice seemed confused. “Jacob who?” She asked.

“Yeah, Jake's a giant dog.” Conner teased.

Bella added awkwardly. “Jacob's kind of a werewolf.”

“Bella!” Alice shouted. “Werewolves are not good company to keep!”

“Hey! Speak for yourself!” Jacob started.

Conner stepped up. “I'm gonna have to agree with him on that one.”

He suddenly noticed the absence of his father. He furrowed his brow, knowing the man had the day off and as far as he was aware, hadn’t made any plans for this night. “Where's Charlie?” He asked.

Jacob's face fell, staying silent for a moment. “Harry Clearwater had a heart attack.” He said finally.

“Oh my god. Is he okay?” He asked panicked. Jacob hung his head, shaking it ‘no’. He had just seen the man. It didn’t seem real. Conner’s heart sunk. Jesus, his poor kids.

“His daughter phased in front of him and I guess his heart couldn’t take the shock. We’ve never had a female in the pack before. We didn’t even know it was possible.” He said solemnly. Conner’s face scrunched up, poor Leah. That was horrible.

He was soon ripped from his thoughts as Bella yelled. “Stop!” Alice and Jake glared darkly at each other. If looks could kill, they'd both be six feet under. Assuming the vampires could die, this he wasn’t completely sure of.

Alice let out a sigh, rolling her amber eyes. “I will give you one minute.” She stated pointing a thin finger at the girl.

“You're not going anywhere, you're gonna come back , right?” Bella asked panicked. She wouldn't let Alice leave her. Not again. Not after so long waiting so long to see the vampire again.

A smirk found its way to the Cullen’s face. “As soon as you put the dog out.” She teased. Her gaze then flickered over to the older sibling, signaling to leave the two alone for some privacy.

Conner huffed, following the immortal girl out towards the back yard. He stepped into the cool air, unease settling in his stomach. ”So you're Conner. It's nice to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you." She said a large smile gracing her delicate features. She looked kind enough, but still, something stirred in Conner’s chest, putting him on edge.

He looked towards the girl, thoughts whirling. ”Um-yeah, and you're Alice. Edward's sister?" He asked, looking for clarification.

Alice grinned, showing her bright white teeth. ”That’s me. It's great to finally meet you. I've seen that we're going to get along great." She said grinning widely. A little weirded out, Conner blew the comment off. She'd seen? What is that supposed to mean?

Conner stared blankly for a moment. ”Yeah... Why is it that you're just now coming back to see Bella? You know, she's had a really shitty time getting over you and your family. Why pop back up now that she’s finally getting better?” He asked defensively. She wasn’t gong to get off easy by just being polite. Not after everything Bella had been put through.

Alice frowned. ”I needed to see if she was okay. I worry about her..." She faded off, her face becoming blank and eyes glossing over. The air between the two went silent as she as her attention drifted off elsewhere.

Conner quirked an eyebrow, waving a hand in front of her face, looking for some type of reaction ”Um, hello? Are you okay?" Conner asked unsure, attempting to regain her attention.

Alice's eyes widened to an almost comical size as she breathed out a gasp of air. "Oh god." She muttered turning quickly and rushing back into the house at an inhuman speed. Conner blinked rapidly, trying to decide if he had just hallucinated the whole interaction. The wolves hadn’t been kidding when they said vampires were fast, in fact he now realized that was definitely a major understatement.

After coming to his senses, Conner turned on his heal, rushing back into the warmth of the house. As he crossed the threshold of the kitchen, Bella coming into view. Her face was white, as she looked like she had just seen a ghost. Her face quickly morphed into utter rage as she turned on Jacob, beginning to yell at the boy.

"Bella, it's Edward." Alice interrupted, panic filling her voice. "He thinks you are dead." Bella gaped at the girl. "Rosalie told him why I came here." Conner’s mind whirled as he tried to process this information.

Bella turned to Jacob utterly furious. "Why would you- why didn't you let me speak to him?” She asked angrily.

"He didn't ask for you." Jacob stated stubbornly.

”Bella." Alice interjected hurriedly, trying to gain her full attention. "He's going to the Volturi." Conner of course had no idea what this meant, but still, the word set an ire chill in the air. Shivers ran down his spine as the word invoked a visceral reaction from the man. "He wants to die too." Alice finished.

Bella sucked in a breath, eyes widening. ”We have to- we have to go." She stuttered out.

Conner’s heart dropped, putting a hand up to stop the teen. ”Hold on. Where are you going?" Conner interjected incredulously. "You're not going to just get up and leave again." He recalled the year previous when Bella had left Forks in a rush only to end up in the hospital a day later. The pain she had put Charlie through.

"He left you Bella, remember? He didn't want you anymore." Jacob pleaded with the girl.

Bella let out a frustrated grunt. "I'm not going to let him kill himself out of guilt." She said determinedly. She glared at the two males. She knew all they wanted to do was protect her, but she’d be damned if she let Edward die while she stood by and did nothing.

Conner ran his fingers through his hair, trying to calm his building nervousness. Wherever it was that Bella was planning on going, he knew would be unsafe. Anxiety gripped his lungs as he began to struggle to breath. “Bella you can’t leave again.” He said, eyes pleading with his sister. “Charlie needs you right now.” He tried reasoning.

He looked deep into the girl’s eyes, instantly knowing that it was no use. Whatever grip this family had on the girl was too strong. In truth, he should have known this from the start, but he had tried to hope. Hope that she had moved on from Edward enough to value her own life, but he should have known. That was where her loyalties lied. Not with the family that loved and supported her throughout her darkest times, but with the boy that had broken her heart.

Conner nodded his head slowly, seeing there was no use in trying to convince her to stay. He turned his face from the girl, pain etched across his features. The fact was, family wasn’t a priority for her anymore. It hadn’t been since she had met Edward. His shoulders sagged in defeat, the sting of betrayal sinking in. And the she was gone, without even a second glance.

He planted himself on the couch, taking his head in his hands. It was suddenly way too silent in the house, and his thoughts began to overwhelm him.

What in the world was he going to tell Charlie?

Next Chapter

#leah clearwater x m!reader #leah clearwater smut #leah clearwater x reader #leah clearwater #twilight smut #twilight #edward cullen #bella swan #charlie swan #jacob black #eventual smut #slow burn #fic: certain things

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roadtogracelandx45 · 1 year

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Oh My, My Love Part 1 of 2| Elvis

masterlist

@thatbanditqueen

word count 1.5k

Oh My, My Love

Summary: Sylvie realizes that she is in love with Elvis and there is nothing she can do about it. And then after he sees her go off with Jimmy Rogers Snow, he realizes those feelings weren’t just platonic but something so much more.

Apart of the Burnin’ Love series

Rated M for adult content

Set during the time that they were doing the Snow Shows

2 shot.

Elvis stopped once he got to the door of the small trailer he used to change in for the shows and looked back at Sylvie who was sitting on the raggedy armchair with a worn copy of Gone With the Wind open on her lap.

“Come on Mama.” He held his hand out to her.

“El, you know I can’t do big crowds.” She returned looking up from the yellowing pages, her stepfather had tried to grab her the one time that they had to the carnival when they first started doing the shows. If it hadn’t been for Elvis and his friends she would have been lost forever. And since then she avoided them as much as possible. Always watching his performance from the side with the Colonel never from the crowd like she has in the past.

Elvis just smiled and motioned for her to come again. “Do you really want to be held down with me? When there’s all these other girls around?” “Sylvia.” He wiggled his index finger at her. “That doesn’t work on me.” She returned lifting the book back up, there was a small smirk playing on her lips.

“Syl.”

“El, ”

“Don’t be a brat darlin’.’

The smirk grew as she stuck her tongue out at him and raised the book back up again. Wearing a smirk of his own, he went over to the chair and picked her up and threw her over his shoulder causing her to squeal and clutch at the back of her skirt so it wouldn’t ride up.

“Elvis!’ He laughed and used his free hand to swat at her bottom playfully. Unable to help herself she started laughing, she knew that saying no to him and trying to distance herself from him because of lingering feelings that his mother and her grandmother pointed out to her wasn’t going to do any good. When it came to her, the answer no was never good enough.

He wanted her by his side all the time and had all but stake claim to her and scared off every boy that showed any sort of interest in her. No boy was ever going to be good enough for his Sylvie expect for maybe him.

“Looky at what Elvis found, boys. It’s a rogue Sylvie.” DJ teased once Elvis came into sight carrying the younger girl over his shoulder.

“And here we thought she was a made-up story.’ One of the girls that was hanging on Billy’s arm said. Sylvie rolled her eyes, “Trust me, honey, I’m very real.”

Elvis sat her on her feet but kept his arm around her waist. “From her pretty head to the tiny little toes.”

“Are you two together?” the girl asked again. “No honey.” Bill started his eyes on Sylvia who had turned her head to listen to what Elvis was saying to her. “She is basically our road Mama. She takes care of us.”

Roberta, the girl who had proclaimed herself to be Elvis’ that night, looked at Sylvie who didn’t look very well put together. Not like her and her friends who had their hair and make-up done, and wearing nice clothes. The mysterious Sylvie had on a button shirt that looked like it had seen better days and a blue skirt that was wrinkled. Elvis needed someone who took better care of herself and just stepped out looking like Sylvie.

“So she is a prostitute?” Elvis pulled his head back quickly and looked at the girl, his dark blue eyes on fire.

“No.”

Sylvie slid her own arm around his waist to hold him to her, he was dangerously close to losing his cool and picking a fight, she was going to do the same thing that she always did. She was going to step in and use her words. And if she had to, she would use her fists.

“I may not be a lady of the night.” DJ and Scotty both froze, they knew that tone of voice and had been on the receiving end of it after one of the pills they had given her to perk up wore off.

She had started hitting them both with her book cursing them to high heaven.

“But I,” Her dark eyes looked Roberta up and down, cold distaste on her face clear, she was haughty like her mother was before her, she wasn’t the little girl who grew up with Elvis in Mississippi, she was the scared girl who used her Scarlett O’Hara upbringing for evil.

This was the side of her that drove them all crazy. It wasn’t her.

“Do know one when I see one.” Her eyes flicked to the golden cross that hung around her neck to the pleated plaid skirt she had on, then she tilted her head to the side, “Let me guess, Daddy makes you go to a private catholic school and thinks listening to rock and roll music is bad.”

Elvis squeezed her hip, lately he had been away when Slyvie got like this and he kind of missed seeing it, missed seeing the Sylvie that he had fallen for when she first came back into his life.

“And you are coming here to break all the rules he set up. What would your poor mother think?” she brought her free hand up and covered her heart, “She will probably die of a broken heart, her precious little girl was out all night with a bunch of hooligans.”

He squeezed her hip again and pulled her in closer to him.

“And oh what would the pastor think, a member of his church out all night, trying to ride one of these men like a bronco.’ All the boys turned their heads so they wouldn’t get caught laughing, “ Let me tell you something, Roberta.’

She glanced at Scotty to make sure she had the name right and he nodded. He had a habit of telling her who the girls were so she could make them leave if they were still there in the morning.

“You can’t handle what they have to offer. Not many girls can” She pulled herself away from Elvis and started walking towards the line of booths. He waited for several heartbeats before following her. “I am not.’ Roberta started angrily. “Let it go, sweetheart, there is no way he is going to be with you after you insulted her.” Scotty commented, “Sylvie is always gonna be the one, they just don’t both know it yet.”

***

“You could have stayed,” Sylvie commented once Elvis was next to her, his arm going back around her waist. “Eh.” His return came, “I would rather be with you.”

“You know it’s not the first time that this has happened. Those words.” He steered her towards the Ferris Wheel, “are said all the time. Mostly by the boys in the audience.”

He turned to look at her, anger bubbling up in him again. He wanted to fix anything he could for her. And if he would have known, he would have stepped in sooner. “You don’t need to be worryin’ about me.”

“I do though.” They had gotten into the cart and he pulled her next to him instead of letting her sit across from him. “You should only have to worry about yourself. The rest of my worries are my job.” Elvis settled his arm over her shoulder as the ride started to move, she shifted closer to him. She was terrified of the Ferris wheel and had been since that one day when her father grabbed her, he had joined her in the chair and proceeded to make it swing dangerously. She screamed and cried begging him to stop.

But he didn’t.

It had been Elvis that had saved her, it had been him who offered her comfort and offered her protection. He and along with several of his friends had been waiting at the bottom of the Ferris Wheel and Elvis, with guitar in hand, threatened to kill the man himself.

He wasn’t going to let her go, not after just getting her back.

Elvis’s hand covered the one that was resting on her lap, their fingers twining together. And those butterflies that she had been fighting for days, mostly since she had been picked back up from her grandparent's house in Tupelo came back in with a vengeance and she knew, she knew that her grandmother and Gladys were right. She was in love with Elvis and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

#ash writes #series: burning love #series: burnin love #series : burnin' love verison 2 #oc sylvie presley #austin bulter! elvis x sylvie #elvis x sylvie #austin butler! elvis presley fan fiction #austin butler! elvis presley imagines #austin butler! elvis presley oc #elvis presley fan fiction #elvis presley imagines

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 2 years

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Learning About the Perks of Feminism

Photo from @fromjjwithlove blog

Summary: Y/N wants Soldier Boy badly. But she wants him on her terms. Can he handle her modern ways?

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Pretty much all smut. Some tiny bit of plot. Soldier Boy being a grumpy asshole, Unprotected PinV sex, pull-out method of BC used, coming on tits, oral, m/f receiving, face riding. Fluff if you squint.

Pairings: Soldier Boy x Y/N

Word Count: 2,620

A/N: So, I’ve decided to do all 30 of these writing prompts. I may miss a day here and there, but I’m going to try to do one a day, and I will be completing all 30 no matter what. They won’t always be in order. This fic will be for the prompt: Write about your MC nicknames. I took some liberty with this prompt, but they do talk about what he want's Y/N to call him.

I will be putting together a Masterlist for all 30 prompts and adding it to my main Masterlist.

A/N 2: This post is the inspiration for this fic. The amazing @deanswaywardgirl deserves so much credit for spurring on my horny brain with an amazing smutty scenario. And @candy-coated-misery0731 deserves all the credit for encouraging the writing of this fic. So, you owe any smutty happiness this fic brings you, to those two lovelies! 😄😄

Both beautiful text dividers, both below and at the bottom, were created by @firefly-graphics

"We'll be back in just a few hours, love."

Butcher patted Y/N on the shoulder and then whispered in her ear. "Try to watch him, make sure he doesn't go nuclear, but if he looks ready to do some damage, you get your sweet ass the fuck outta here, yeah?"

Soldier Boy pressed a button on the remote before speaking in the driest of tones.

"You know, my hearing is super too, you limey fuck." He leveled a look at Butcher and Billy straightened to his full height.

"Fine, I'll say it plain then. Hurt one hair on her head and Supe or not, deal or not, I'll rip your fuckin' heart out."

Y/N rolled her eyes. Since the moment the Boys took her on as part of the team, Butcher had tucked her under his wing like a mama bird. He refused to accept that she'd been surviving on the streets and working within the underground network of criminals since she was thirteen years old, and more than a dozen years on, she could certainly take care of herself.

She looked over at Soldier Boy and saw a spark of humor in his eyes as he looked up at Butcher, no doubt contemplating how quickly he could crush him if he wanted to, especially given that Butcher was currently V-free.

But he merely gave Butcher a smirk and went back to the TV, frowning at a commercial for men's exfoliating body scrub.

"Jesus fuck," he mumbled, "whatever happened to a fuckin bar of soap?"

Y/N turned back to Butcher and patted his arm. "I'll be fine. You guys be careful." When he still hesitated she stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "Go on, Hughie's waiting."

He flushed slightly and left the room.

Y/N sat back down on the couch, and as Soldier Boy engrossed himself in the wide and varied choices offered by the modern television landscape, she took the opportunity to finally really look at him.

Hughie and Butcher had shown up at her motel room door a couple hours earlier with a nuclear superhero in tow. Y/N had been surprised to say the least, but after her first glimpse of him, she’d been avoiding looking directly at the Supe for too long at once. It felt a little like looking into the sun. From what little she knew about Soldier Boy, he seemed like an old school asshole, but god damn the devil came in a beautiful package.

Hughie had run to a Walmart nearby and grabbed him clothes he thought would fit, a plain white tank top, grey sweats, and a short-sleeved, NY Giants jersey.

They were plain, simple, clothes, but on Soldier Boy they were the hottest things Y/N had ever seen. The way the jersey pulled tight across his broad, powerful shoulders and wide, muscled chest, made Y/N feel like she might start drooling at any moment. Also, the way the round, open collar exposed the long column of his throat and his bold, defined clavicle bones, gave Y/N the desire to lick and bite at his tanned, lightly freckled skin.

The lightweight grey sweats were loose and baggy, and she was almost positive he wasn't wearing underwear. When he'd been walking around earlier, the thin material had clung to his round, plump ass like a second skin and there had been something that hung long and low in the front that made her mouth water, imagining just what it could be. Maybe it had simply been a trick of the light, but she seriously doubted that.

His body was powerful, radiating a kind of strength that was simply entrancing. But she still thought his face might be even more attractive. His hair was longish and soft, and had a tendency to fall into his eyes, which gave him a boyish air that suited his superhero name. His beard was trimmed close, soft-looking, making Y/N's fingers itch to touch it.

His eyes were usually a mossy green, but sometimes, depending on the light, they seemed to shine like emeralds. They were absolutely stunning and, Y/N felt as though it would be easy to be pulled in by them, and lose yourself.

If his eyes were angelic, his mouth was all sin. It screamed of carnal delights and promised hours of bliss. Staring at him now, she had no trouble imagining his mouth swollen and wet from licking and sucking pleasure into her skin. Her body tensed and her pussy clenched.

She was so lost in her imaginings that she jumped when Soldier Boy's deep voice pulled her back to reality. He continued to stare at the TV as he spoke.

"You know one of my other abilities is a super keen sense of my surroundings. Which means that I'm hyper aware when someone is watching me."

He finally turned to face her, pinning her down with his gaze. After a minute he gave her a smirk. "Like what you see, pretty thing?"

Y/N scoffed even as her stomach flipped. "Do lines like that usually work?"

For a second he looked like he was going to get mad, but then he just shrugged. "Yeah, they do.” He frowned. “Or they used to. Women have changed a lot from what I can tell.”

Y/N smiled. “Well, we’ve decided we like our independence. And we don’t like chauvinist assholes telling us what to do.”

Soldier Boy’s frown turned darker, and Y/N wondered if she was being incredibly stupid.

Deciding that fortune favored the bold, she got up and strode over to where he was sitting on the side of the bed, one leg stretched out in front of him, the other braced on the floor.

She quickly straddled his lap and relished the look of shock on his face. She ground her cunt down against the hard bulge that confirmed her suspicions of a huge dick and no underwear.

Soldier Boy groaned loudly and his breathing came fast and harsh. He clamped his hands hard on her hips, keeping her immobile.

"Jesus Christ! Are all women this horny and aggressive nowadays?"

Y/N shook her head. "No, not all of us. But like I said, we like our independence, and we go after what we want. And I definitely want you. In spite of the cheesy lines and the knowledge that you could crush me like a bug if you wanted to, I still want you. We've only got a couple hours on our own and who knows when this chance will be in front of me again. So," she thrust her hands into his hair and pulled his head back slightly. "Like what you see, pretty thing?" She echoed back to him.

His eyes had become hooded with desire, as he looked deep into her eyes. "I don't know, I usually like to be in charge." He said, in a voice that made a shiver run through her as she imagined letting him take over. She suspected he would be very good at being in charge.

But her defiant streak was strong and she wanted to keep in control.

"Trust me baby, Feminism has given us lots of rights and freedoms we deserve, but it's also helped us," she grabbed his cock through his thin sweats, "express our sexual freedoms."

She squeezed him gently and he threw his head back with a groan. She took the opportunity to lick up the length of his throat, and then nibble at the hinge of his jaw.

She moved her mouth to his ear and whispered to him. "Tell me, what name do you want me to scream out when I come? Soldier Boy or Ben? Or would you prefer, "Ooh, fuck me Big Daddy!"

He yanked her back from his ear so he could look at her closely. He studied her a minute and Y/N let a mischievous smile curl her lips so he'd know she was having fun. He shook his head, still a little upended by her boldness.

But eventually, he smiled too. "Just Ben, baby."

He pulled her mouth down to his in a wild and searing kiss. Just as she suspected, that wicked mouth was pure sin masquerading as paradise. His tongue was hard as it thrust into her mouth. He swallowed down her moans and wordless pleas as he ravaged her, lips sucking and biting.

Wanting some of the power back, she bit into his succulent bottom lip, dragging a ragged moan from his throat. She pulled back from the kiss and shoved his open jersey off his shoulders, leaving him in only his tank top.

She ran her hands over the thick, round, curve of his shoulders, and then pushed his undershirt up so she had access to all the smooth, flat muscles of his torso.

She tugged at his shirt. "Take this off." She ordered. Looking as though he was participating in an experiment he wasn't too sure about, he reluctantly followed her demand.

But as soon as the shirt was gone she began kissing her way down his body. She paused when she reached his nipples, twirling her finger around the left one and teasing the right one with the tip of her tongue.

"Uhn, fuck!" Ben growled, and Y/N looked up to see him with his eyes closed, biting into his bottom lip. The sight made her moan and purr against his skin.

Fuck he was hot.

She felt his cock growing harder against her stomach and she couldn't wait any longer to feel it on her tongue. Her kisses reached his waistband and she grabbed hold of it.

He lifted his hips automatically and Y/N gasped as his cock popped free and fell against his stomach. Settling herself between his legs, she licked all the way up the underside of his dick, before dragging her tongue across his slit, lapping up the pre-cum that had gathered there.

She hollowed her cheeks and sucked the sensitive head of his cock into her mouth. She bobbed slightly on the very top, sucking and flicking her tongue back and forth. Ben jerked his hips and sank one of his hands into her hair.

"Jesus! Yes, good girl. Fuck your mouth is perfect!"

Y/N moaned at his praise, letting the vibrations travel down his dick as she sank all the way to the base. She relaxed her throat so that she could fit his whole cock into her mouth. Ben gathered her hair into a ponytail in his hand. "Look at me, pretty one. I wanna see your face while you're stuffed full of my cock."

Y/N looked up at him, pulling off and letting the spit and cum dribble down her chin before she sank back down on him. After another minute or so Ben pulled her off his cock with a deep moan. Quickly he ripped off her t-shirt and bra, yanking down her jeans and underwear and tossing them to the side of the bed.

Then with complete ease, he picked her up and spun her around, so that she was facing away from him. He laid down flat beneath her and pushed her forward so that her ass was higher. Then, spreading her pussy wide with his thumbs, he licked a stripe up through her folds with his wide, hot tongue and Y/N screamed out her pleasure.

He spoke against her dripping wet heat. "This way we can both get what we need. After all what kind of man would I be if I let you do all the heavy lifting?"

Before she could respond to that, his mouth sank into her cunt, and Y/N grabbed hold of his dick, bobbing up and down on it while she writhed and shook against his face.

His beard was soft, but as he fucked her thoroughly with his mouth, even the soft hair began to leave a pleasant burn behind on the inside of her thighs. She was grateful she'd have a souvenir from him.

As she neared her climax, Ben slipped his hands around her ribcage and lifted her from a reclining position to sitting one, positioning her to sit more fully on his jaw. He licked up into her, pushing his hard tongue past her entrance before undulating it against her incredibly sensitive skin. He sucked her clit into his mouth and then nibbled on it, sending Y/N tumbling, shaking and moaning over the edge.

But he didn't stop there. He was perfectly capable of holding her in that position, over his mouth, for as long as he wanted, and he kept her there, drinking up every drop she gave him through two more orgasms.

Finally he turned her to face him, and sat her on his lower abdomen, her drenched pussy leaving a wet spot. She reached behind her to stroke his long, thick cock that was running along the crack of her ass.

"Fuck me, Ben, please fuck me."

He chuckled slightly as he moved his fingers to rub against her clit.

"This position is all you, beautiful. You started this, you finish it."

Y/N refused to back down from the challenge he was giving her even though her limbs were wobbly and tired. She climbed onto his cock and slowly slid down onto it. She rode him hard and fierce, taking energy from every one of his guttural curses.

He raised his hands to her tits, squeezing them and rolling her nipples between his fingers. Before letting them fall back into place so he could watch them bounce as she rode him.

As she began to wane, not sure how much longer she could keep up the pace, Ben rolled her onto her back and began to piston his hips into her, shaking the entire bed frame and smashing the headboard into the wall.

He pulled out abruptly. His voice was harsh and ragged. "I don't have a rubber, so where do you want me to come?" He asked.

"Come on my tits." She said breathlessly, reaching out to pump his cock that was covered with her slick.

Ben reached down and slid two thick fingers deep into her cunt, curling them just right so that she came almost immediately. Ben took over, pumping his cock fast and watching Y/N's face as she cried out, pleasure cascading across her features. Her beautiful face, lips swollen and still wet with his cum was just the image he needed to push him into the abyss.

Bucking into his hand, he shot ropes of cum across Y/N's tits, milking his cock, as he listened to the satisfied moans and sighs that were coming from her lips. He fell forward on top of her, too spent to care about the mess he was creating on both their bodies.

The two of them dozed off for the better part of half an hour before Ben woke up and immediately scooped Y/N up. Still half asleep in his arms, she let out a shout of surprise as he turned on the shower and stepped them both into the warm spray.

He cleaned them both up quickly and then again carried Y/N out of the bathroom.

She rolled her eyes. "You know, I have legs. I can just walk."

Ben looked down at her seriously. "But your muscles are tired. Mine aren't, even a little, so why wouldn't you let me carry you?"

Y/N shrugged. "Part of that whole modern, doing things for ourselves, independence thing I was mentioning earlier."

It was Ben's turn to roll his eyes, but he set her on the ground. "Well, I don't know if I'll ever understand the whole women's lib thing."

He grinned and nodded towards the messy bed.

"But it sure has its perks!"

1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays.

@lyarr24

@siospins2

@impalaslytherin

@maggiegirl17

@akshi8278

@candy-coated-misery0731

3 - Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.)

@sunshineandwings86

@kazsrm67

@sexyvixen7

4 - Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well)

@unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men

@awkward-and-indecisive

@maliburenee

@supernatural4life2022

@spn730015

@b3autyfuldisast3r

@kickingitwithkirk

@waywardbaby

@foxyjwls007

@deanwanddamons

@deandreamernp

@deanwithscissors

@myloversgone

@snowlovespie

@leigh70

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@fangirlxwritesx67

@charred-angelwings

@hopefuldreamers-world

@mysherlock221b

@jensensgotyoudean

@stixnstripesworld

@thoughts-and-funnies

@magssteenkamp

@norman1967

@princessmisery666

@eevvvaa

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy

@b-i-t-c-h-i-e

@twirpbunwarrior

@mysweetlittledesire

@waynes-multiverse

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@bernasaurus

@jensenslady79

#30 days writing challenge #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy smut #the boys s3 #the boys s3 spoilers #soldier boy #ben #soldier boy fan fiction #the boys fan fiction

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calzonekestis · 2 years

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Having a Black character be put in peril so that they can be rescued by a white savior is not a Good thing to do in a story.

Eddie Munson is actually a non violent person who tends to avoid physical conflict.

Both those statements are true.

However, if he had been there when Jason’s baseball cap wearing bro tackled an 11 year old Black girl to the ground, pinned her, held her arms behind her back and threatened to break them?

Vecna wouldn’t be the only person taking eyes.

That bitch would have gotten a nail-shield to the face. Repeatedly.

I know the intent of that was to be upsetting and uncomfy, but I’m just.

Sick of them doing the Sinclairs like that. First with Billy, now that bitch.

And tbh after the Lucas/Jason confrontation, I’m looking back on all their interactions with hindsight and.

“I never should have let you in.”

“I never should have knocked.”

Lucas already proved himself on the basketball court, but they had to go all frat boy and like. He had to earn his acceptance.

On Jason’s wiki page (editing is still locked rn) it’s mentioned how one of his redeeming qualities was that he checked on Lucas when he had a hangover.

Which. I kinda get the feeling that Lucas was probably most certainly pressured into drinking? Or at least as much as he did? That it was a hazing thing?

Jason and his friends are just. Douchebags.

Maybe there’s a reason they were douchebags, like a reason Billy was a douchebag… but like with Billy, that reason isn’t an excuse.

And I don’t think that they had any abusive background or anything. I think it was their environment, sure, but it was one that was very catered to serve them. Straight white clean cut Christian patriarchy.

Sure, Jason didn’t seem so bad - until Chrissy died. Until his perfect world started to crumble, people were daring to upset the status quo of it all. That’s when he started to spiral. When he and Eddie had their stare down in the cafeteria?

Chrissy wasn’t even a factor in that. Eddie insulted him and his place in the hierarchy. Eddie insulted a lot of people. None of them had egos so fragile (or penises so tiny) that they wanted to throw hands.

He couldn’t accept that he didn’t know Chrissy as well as he thought, even though there must have been a reason she felt she couldn’t go to him. Be it he’d belittle her trauma/ED if she confided about it, or if he treated her like a she was a burden/distraction before the game, or whatever.

She put on a brave face and smile, while she was literally hurting herself… and he was completely ignorant. Head in the sand. Or up his own ass. This is her boyfriend. Meanwhile, Eddie someone who she hasn’t talked to in years, is able to tell in seconds that something is off and that she isn’t ok.

He doesn’t pry or overstep as to why she wants the drugs - he knows better than to ask, and it’s better for business if he doesn’t. Though he cares enough to try and make her feel at ease and safe with him. He doesn’t judge her for not being ok, he just wants her to feel better.

Meanwhile Jason just refuses to entertain the idea that she may not have been ok. That he may have played a part in it, that she may have gone to Eddie rather than him because he was part of the problem. That’s just not fathomable to him, because he’s perfect and walks on water.

When Nancy offers her condolences, he shows little to no reaction - instead asking where her Hellfire Club member brother is and getting all aggressive.

He didn’t actually love Chrissy, because he didn’t actually know Chrissy.

He loved the simplistic picture of her that he and her mother and society made her feel like she had to live up to.

Mans didn’t actually know the girl to love her. He wasn’t actually grieving her as person, he was grieving what she was supposed to be in relation to himself.

An embodiment of toxic masculinity. R Rated Gaston. Anthony Michael Hall in Edward Scissorhands. Youth Pastor Archie Andrews. Call it whatever you want, but he is not some misunderstood meow meow.

Again, said it before, I’ll say it a dozen times over. Mason Dye did a fantastic job portraying him. He tried to bring some depth there, he’s talked about Jason’s headspace at a con - but he could only do so much with what was on the page. He wasn’t given focus like Joe was, to where he could sort of improv and influence the perception of the character.

I’m not saying he’s not a good character, but he’s not a good person. And that’s ok. You can have problematic trash faves. I have a Darth Maul url, I mean, fuck. The woobification is something I cannot and will not sanction.

#anti jason carver #jason carver #erica sinclair #lucas sinclair #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham

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free-pool-trash · 4 years

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dancing with our hands tied - peter maximoff

here it is you guys... the ✨very spicy✨ sequel to delicate which can be read here <3 (had to keep the rep song title theme going here)

please for the love of god let me know how this is I’ve never written smut before so please go crazy with the asks/comments/reblogs on this one I’d really appreciate it😩😓

word count: 4k 😳 (it’s not all smut dont get too excited)

warnings: +18 content, sexy times, unprotected wrap it before you tap it, swearing, i tried to keep vulgarity on a low level but i decided to just commit towards the end lmao, insinuation to sex from the beginning , some fluff and a tiny bit of angst sprinkled in there too, wandavision spoilers

You can definitely read this as a stand alone but it’ll make more sense if you read delicate first !! enjoy <3

masterlist

The days you spent in WestView had been tiring. Wanda seemed to be losing her composure with each day that passed, you watched how she became more and more skeptical of Peter and found yourself growing all the more anxious with the situation you’d run head first into. But, you were with Peter, your mind and his mind were free of Wanda’s influence and she’d been kind enough to appoint the pair of you your own house in the neighbourhood, a few doors down from her own, so, you couldn’t complain too much.

Today was a relatively quiet day, but you had a feeling that just meant you were in the calm before the storm. Tonight was, apparently, Halloween. Despite the fact that it was nowhere near October, you were more than happy to play along with Wanda’s over the top festivities.

Peter and Tommy had just zoomed into your and Peter’s bedroom, sporting matching outfits and excited expressions as they looked at you expectantly, “Well? What’d ya think?” Peter asked, motioning between himself and Tommy. The littlest speedster awaited your answer with wide, hopeful eyes, wanting validation from his cool uncle’s even cooler ‘friend’.

Yeah, you’d made out on Wanda’s couch but you still hadn’t addressed the question of where exactly your relationship stood. It felt as though the pair of you were both actively avoiding the awkward conversation, opting instead to simply fall into bed together every single night and completely disregard the boundaries of friendship in favour of hearing each other moaning until the early hours of the morning.

With a smile you let out a low whistle, “Looking good boys. I gotta say, Tommy, I think you’re outshining your uncle right now.”

You had to laugh when Tommy smirked triumphantly at Peter, “I told you she liked me more than you.” He boasted proudly and your laughs grew louder when Peter huffed angrily. He crossed his arms over his chest and jutted his bottom lip out childishly.

“Y/n, tell him you like me more.” Peter demanded, again, childishly.

You only grinned, “No comment.” You told him airily, making your way to your closet and hesitantly pulling out the latex costume Wanda created for you off of the rail, holding it by the hanger skeptically.

It was Peter’s turn to let out a whistle when his eyes scanned the skimpy looking leotard suspended by the hanger. The fabric mimicked the design of Peter and Tommy’s outfits although it seemed Wanda had gone out of her way to make yours ever so slightly sexier. The leotard was strapless with a sweetheart neckline and a silver lightning bolt ran through the light blue material. The only saving grace was the silver tights that hung from the hanger as well, at least you’d have some kind coverage. With one last peek into the closet, your eyes landed on a pair of white, knee high gogo boots.

“Christ…” You muttered, eyebrows furrowing at the thought of wearing the ensemble out in public, if it was cold tonight Wanda would be in for an aggressive telling off. With a deep sigh you turned to the two speedsters who were both staring at you, waiting for you to say something. “I guess we’re all gonna be matching tonight.”

“Sweet!” Tommy exclaimed while Peter only smirked. Peter, with a lot of effort, moved his attention from your costume to his nephew.

“Why don’t you go hang out with your brother for a while? I gotta talk to Y/n for a sec.” Tommy welcomed the suggestion, only nodding his head before he had sped out of your house and back to his own.

A gust of wind hit your face as Peter sped himself in front of you, the man didn’t hide his intentions as he gripped your hips and pulled you flush against him. Swaying his body against yours and bringing his lips to the exposed skin of your neck. He trailed his lips up your neck, sucking and nipping, smirking when you let out small noises of approval. When his lips reached the spot behind your ear, he gave a final, harsh suck which had your breath hitching and whining when he pulled away.

To be honest, you’d love to be able to call him your boyfriend and be certain that he thought of you as his girlfriend, but at the moment you were perfectly happy with whatever the fuck the two of you had going on if it meant you could keep feeling him against you like this.

“I cannot wait to see you wearing that.” He all but groaned against your ear, his voice deep and gravelly. The butterflies in your stomach went feral at his words and you had to pull your bottom lip between your teeth to keep from letting out a moan from his tone of voice alone, not to mention the fact that his crotch was pressed up against yours, he was excited to say the least.

Your hands slid up his chest and settled on either side of Peter’s neck, you gently pulled his head out from the crook of your nape and teasingly raised an eyebrow at him, “Maybe later I’ll let you help me get out of it.”

A wicked grin spread across his lips, he squeezed your hips in response, tugging you into him even further for some kind of relief then pressed his lips to yours briefly, murmuring against them, “That’s definitely a plan I can get behind.”

Giving him one last kiss, you pried his hands from your hips and pushed him away, “Alright, get lost I need to get ready.”

“Meet me at Wanda’s?” You nodded at his question, letting out a deep sigh you hadn’t noticed you’d been holding when he finally sped out of the room.

After a second of cooling down, you pulled on the outfit and you’d be the first to admit; Wanda knew what she was doing with this one. You looked incredible, albeit a little stupid in the costume, but still incredible.

When you made your way over to Wanda’s to meet up with the others, you let out a laugh seeing as Wanda was essentially wearing the same outfit as you, only with the added extras of a cape and gloves.

“Hey! Why are you dressed the same as Uncle P and Tommy?” Billy asked you curiously, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he glanced between you and Peter for answers. The speedster in question was smirking proudly, his arm finding a spot wrapped around your shoulder.

“Because she’s totally obsessed with me.” He lied with an over dramatic sigh, causing Tommy to laugh.

You rolled your eyes, elbowing him in the ribs playfully before focusing your attention onto Wanda, “I think it’s safe to say that Wanda and I will be winning best couples costume.” Wanda gave you a knowing grin and a not at all subtle wink in response to your statement.

“Only the best for the best.” She replied, walking forward and linking her arm with yours, stealing you away from Peter who whined in protest, “Oh hush, you can have her back later.”

Telepathy definitely had its perks, one of those perks being you could tell there was more to Wanda than just being an evil puppeteer. The two of you got along extremely well, you were actually growing to see her as a friend. It helped that you knew her story, though. You sympathised with her, knowing full well that if you lost the love of your life you’d probably create a false reality to be with him too. You’d already followed him into a fake reality so you supposed it wasn’t really too much of a stretch to imagine yourself in Wanda’s position.

As the night went on, yourself, Wanda and Peter were sitting around in town square, the twins having run off somewhere. Tensions were high between the interreality siblings at the minute, Peter seemed to be having the time of his life getting on Wanda’s last nerve, poking and prodding at her lifestyle choices.

“Lay off, Pete.” You warned quietly, your stare serious as you felt Wanda becoming impatient with the mutant. Your breathing stopped for a moment and you let put a horrified gasp, your hand clapped over your mouth as you stared at the image in front of you.

Peter’s skin was grey, his eyes were milky and he was littered in what you could only assume to be bullet holes- he was dead- no, you realised as you caught Wanda’s pained expression, he was Pietro.

Wanda regained her composure after a few seconds but the sight of Peter dead was enough to shake you to your very core and you found yourself shaking where you stood.

You didn’t even have a chance to regain your composure before shit had hit the fan. It had happened in a blur, Billy and Tommy were frantic and worried about Vision being in trouble and next thing you knew Wanda was sending Peter flying with a ball of energy after he made a smartass comment about Vision not dying twice.

Quickly, you ran to Peter’s side, he was groaning in pain and looking up at you through squinted eyes, “What the hell was that all about?” He grumbled, hiding his head in your lap when you got down on your knees beside him.

With a sigh you let your body fold against his, wrapping your arms around him and letting your head rest against his shoulder, the image of him bleeding out still too fresh and real in your mind. You could berate him for his brash behaviour another time, for now though; you just needed him close.

“Come on, dumbass. Let’s get you home before you decide to cause more trouble.” You mumbled, pulling him up with you. Ignoring his whining while you led him home, your arm remained firmly around his waist the whole way despite the fact he’d recovered from the blast Wanda dealt him after only a few minutes.

When you got back to the house that Wanda had deemed yours upon your arrival, you finally allowed yourself to breathe. Peter was staring at you with a guilty expression as you released a heavy breath through your nose and shuffled into the kitchen, the heels of your boots scraping on the hardwood as you walked.

Like a lost puppy, Peter followed you. Once he reached you lent against the sink he wrapped his arms around you from behind. He knew you weren’t angry at him by the way your arms immediately moved to grip his and tug them tighter around you.

“You know, her real twin- Pietro… he died,” Peter’s face contorted in confusion when you began to speak, he listened with concern as he could already hear your voice beginning to shake, absentmindedly he caught himself tucking you closer against his chest. “For a second… you must have said something that hit a nerve but for a few seconds…” Your voice hitched and you shook your head in an attempt to knock the image out of your mind, though you had a feeling it would haunt you for as long as you lived. When Peter noticed you’d started chewing at your bottom lip, as you always did when something was causing you anxiety, he gently turned you around in his arms so that he could look at you, his arms remaining firmly around you, yours finding a place resting against his chest.

“What happened, sweetheart?” He cooed, his eyes very much alive and staring into yours.

Swallowing thickly you answered, “You looked like him. You were dead.” You told him quietly and he was sure the look of grief on your face, brought on by the thought of him dying, would haunt him for a lifetime.

Your eyes watered as you took in his face. Scanning every part of it, his brown eyes that made you melt, the dimples that could still be faintly seen even when he wasn’t smiling, the lips that took up the vast majority of your thoughts and that tiny furrow between his brows as he looked down at you with worry.

You loved him.

Of course, you’d known this for years. But you needed him to know, and even though you were already well aware the overwhelming feeling is mutual, you needed to hear him say it.

His thumb running under your eye pulled you from your thoughts, “I’m not going anywhere, baby.” He whispered softly, his hand cupping your cheek as his thumb ran back and forth over your cheek bone. Your stomach flipped at the pet name and you nuzzled against his touch.

“Good. I don’t want to lose you ever again.” You confessed, looking up at him through your lashes fondly as his lips formed an almost sad smile.

Gently, he brought his lips down to meet yours, pouring his heart into the kiss, hoping it would make up for the turmoil he felt responsible for causing you. Too soon, he pulled away.

“Believe me, I’m never leaving your side. I mean come on, I’m without you for like three days and I end up being mind controlled by my sister who isn’t even my sister.” He chuckled out, a grin growing on his face as you began to smile too. He let his eyes close blissfully when you brushed your nose against his, a toothy smile on your face.

“You, Peter Maximoff, are completely hopeless.” You whispered through your smile as he opened his eyes to look at you. His own face sporting an adoring smile.

Your heart skipped a beat the second his next words passed through his smiling lips, “Without you, Y/n L/n, yes I am.” Within a second your arms were around his shoulders and your lips were moving frantically against his. Peter’s hands wasted no time in sliding down to your thighs, gripping them and propping you up onto the kitchen counter.

Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist and your hands got lost in his hair, keeping him as close as humanly possible while his lips migrated to your jaw.

An appreciative hum left your throat as he lapped at the underside of your jaw, leaving a mark before trailing his lips back to your mouth. His tongue licked at your bottom lip as he kissed you, moving it into your mouth the first chance he got. Peter moaned into your mouth when you gave his tongue a light suck.

You grinned at the sound and leaned your weight forward so you were primarily resting against his body, your arms and legs wrapped tightly around his body, your ass barely resting on the counter by that point. Welcoming your movements, Peter’s hands glided up from your thighs to grip your ass and pull you from the counter completely.

He carried you clumsily through the halls of the house, bumping into furniture and pausing to press your body against walls, his eyes closed and lips never separating from yours. You were about a foot away from the stairs when you felt your back make contact with the plaster behind you, your chest heaving when Peter abandoned your lips in favour of littering wet kisses across your chest, no doubt leaving a trail of hickeys in his wake.

You let your head fall back against the wall, enjoying the sensation of Peter nipping and licking at your skin, the man diving back to your neck as soon as he realised that your head thrown back made it entirely exposed to him. You released a breathy moan when his lips ghosted over a sensitive patch of skin, he moved his tongue frantically and you shuddered at the feeling of his hot breath hitting your bruised skin.

“Peter…” You whined when he pushed his crotch up against yours, pressing you further into the wall smirking against your neck when you called his name.

“Yes?” He asked teasingly, rutting his hips against yours once more, deliberately attempting to pull another moan from you, he obviously succeeded. His smirk broadened when you let out a huff and tugged his hair so he’d look at you.

Peter swore he was in heaven when his eyes met yours again, your face was red and your eyes were half-lidded, pupils blown wide with lust as your chest heaved. He could’ve exploded on the spot when you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth and looked at him innocently, all the while grinding your hips slowly and firmly against his. Peter clenched his jaw and let his eyes fall shut, his hands gripping your hips so tightly that you were pretty certain the area would have bruises come tomorrow. You were struggling to care about that though, focusing your energy on the man who had you pinned against the wall.

You brought your lips to Peter’s neck, repaying the favour, not detaching until you left a dark, albeit small, purple bruise on the underside of his jaw. Deciding to prolong the teasing for a little while longer you moved your lips up and let them hover by his ear and you began to let out soft little moans in response to his grinding, the action caused Peter’s movements to become more frantic and your lips to form in a smirk as you felt him hardening against you.

His breath was laboured when he murmured, “Let’s take this upstairs, yeah?” Before you could even answer he had sped the pair of you to the bedroom and you let your feet return to the floor.

As he stood in front of you, you took him in, swollen lips and Halloween hair completely tossed, not to mention the tent in his trousers that was very visible despite the layers of his costume. When your bodies collided again, it was a frenzy of hands, the both of you practically tearing the fabric off the other until you were in nothing but your underwear, kissing sloppily and stumbling towards the bed.

Peter’s lips attached to your chest again the second your back hit the mattress. He groped at your right breast while his tongue sucked on the other, swapping over before you pulled him back up to you.

The way he slotted between your legs and how his forehead rested on yours felt so perfect, you couldn’t help but grin.

“You’re gorgeous, sweetheart.” He muttered between kisses against your lips, his hands kneading your breasts as he did.

You were practically dripping by the time his hand slid down your stomach and under the band of your underwear. For someone with super speed he was moving agonisingly slow at the moment, his hand rubbing languidly over your wet core while he swallowed your moans.

“Fuck- God, Peter please.” You whined, your hips bucking into his hand, desperate for more friction than he was giving you.

The sound of your voice, so needy for him, was all he needed before he was pulling your underwear off, tossing the thin material over his shoulder haphazardly and shimmying out of his own boxers, clumsily kicking them away from his ankles, earning a giggle from you.

When he kneeled on the bed between your bent and separated knees you sat yourself up, sliding one hand up his bare chest and resting it against his shoulder while the other slid downward, only stopping once it was wrapped around his shaft. Peter sucked in a harsh breath when your began pumping him softly, the man completely losing it when your thumb swiped over his tip collecting the precum that had gathered and using it to wet the length of his dick as you continued to fuck him with your hand.

As much as Peter was loving the image and feeling of you jacking him off, he knew if you carried on he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. Still, he didn’t have the heart to pull your hand away when you were making him feel so good. His head found it’s favourite spot in the crook of your neck and he groaned out against the skin that was littered with little purple and red marks from his earlier work, which he’d be sure to admire later, “Shit, Y/n-“ He croaked through a moan, hands gripping your hips as he fought the urge he had to thrust into your hand, “M’not gonna last much longer if you keep doing that.” He groaned out, almost reluctantly, not truly wanting you to stop while simultaneously craving more.

You stopped your motions at his statement, giggling when he let out a strangled noise of disappointment at the sudden lack of pleasure. Doing the honours, you lined him up with your entrance, letting him take over when his lips connected with yours.

Peter gently pushed you back until your head was resting against your pillow and your back was flush with the mattress. His lips continued to mesh with yours as he pushed into you inch by inch until he bottomed out. The deep groan he released was music to your ears and your hands gripped his biceps when he began to thrust in and out.

A symphony of moans filled the room as Peter had managed to set a steady pace, trying his best not to let his mutation get the best of him, as much as he wanted to just go to town he was determined to make you feel as good as you made him feel and judging by the way your head was thrown back and his name fell from your lips like a prayer; he guessed he was doing an okay job.

In only a few minutes Peter had you gasping and clutching onto him like your life depended on it as he picked up speed, one of his hands reaching down between your bodies to rub your clit, his hips snapping against yours. Soon enough, you felt the pressure in your stomach release, your walls clenching around Peter’s dick as your back arched and you released around him. After only a few more staggered strokes, Peter moaned your name against your lips, finishing inside of you and thrusting lazily, riding out his high and subsequently helping you ride out yours.

You let out a blissful sigh when Peter pulled out and rolled over to lay on his back beside you, his chest heavy and his blonde hair sticking slightly against his forehead.

“That- that was awesome.” He mumbled, intertwining his fingers with yours, holding your hand by his side.

Over the last couple of nights you and Peter had, admittedly, ended up in a similar position but neither of you intended for it to happen. It’d usually start off innocently enough, with cuddling or just talking and then one of you would move in just that little bit closer and things would escalate. But there was something about this time that felt a lot more emotional than the few times before. “It was.” You agreed with an airy giggle, squeezing his hand affectionately.

A gust of air shook you from your haze. Peter had taken it upon himself to clean up the mess the pair of you had left between your legs, a pair of his boxers and one of his t-shirts now adorned your body matching him as he wore the same.

He was on his side facing you, his arms holding you against his chest securely the same way they had the night you’d shown up in WestView and urged him to kiss you. When he took you in, he kicked himself for missing out on so much of you for so long.

He was certain, one of these days he’d actually speak the three words that followed him around whenever he thought about you, but as he watched your eyes flutter closed, he decided the words would be best spoken some other time. He was well aware you already knew, just as he was well aware that you loved him, it needed to be said. Eventually, but not quite yet.

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff smut #peter maximoff imagine #wandavision x reader #wandavision spoilers #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader

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yikesharringrove · 3 years

Text

Agitation (or disturbance of the mind)

Here is my piece for the Harringrove Big Bang!! I’m so so proud of how this piece turned out and I’m so excited to share it! @harringrovebigbang

Read on Ao3 (highly recommended. It’s over 16k).

Special thanks to my beta readers @thinger-strang @crispysteve without whom this story would’ve been scrapped in many fits of emotions.

Art for this story to be linked soon by @thedogsled

Check out this amazing moodboard by @memes-saved-me !!

Enjoy!

Steve Harrington is a liar.

He always has been.

Nearly everything about him is a perfectly crafted facade.

From the story of his family’s move to Hawkins when he was eight, to the smile that slides easily onto his face when he tells Robin I’m fine.

Steve is a liar.

But it's all out of necessity. All for the greater of some good he isn’t all that clear on anymore.

It was always about protection.

Protecting his friends and everyone in Hawkins from the truth about Hawkins National Laboratory.

Then it was about protecting himself from his powers.

From the way his words had a knack of worming their way into someone’s brain. Of setting up shop inside and clanging around until they could do nothing but bow to his suggestion.

Just because he could get his way with the right inflection and the telltale shiver down his spine, didn’t mean that that was okay.

It was drilled into him the first night he arrived in Hawkins.

After his file was stamped with a large red mark that read defective, he was given to one of the scientists and her husband.

The Harringtons.

A normal new family from Eastern Oklahoma.

That’s what they told everyone.

That’s what they made sure Steve parroted to everyone in his brand new school.

His new father took a cigar to the tattoo on his wrist, welting the flesh with an ugly burn. He ignored Steve’s screams and tears.

You have to fit in here, Steven, he had said, the cigar smoldering between his fingers, Steve clutching his wrist, eyes shining with tears. You have to fit in and be normal.

So Steve lied.

He smiled and told everyone he came from a normal family from normal Oklahoma. He said that he lived in a normal house, and read normal books, and played normal sports.

And he tried, and failed, to convince himself the lab was a dream.

“We should do something after this.”

Steve was careful to keep his voice casual. He didn’t want to let Robin in on how much he was dreading returning to his empty house tonight.

Robin didn’t acknowledge him. She was sorting the returned movies, placing them in piles of genre so they could easily be returned to their proper section.

Steve quietly lifted his leg, and lightly kicked her hip.

She glared at him.

“Quit ignorin’ me. Just say yes, or no.” It’s not like if she said no it would crush him or anything. No. It’s fine.

“I just have a bunch of homework that’s all, like, due tomorrow,” she said it slowly, as though telling him a beloved relative had died.

Was it that obvious how lonely he is?

“Don’t worry about it, Buck.” Robin took school real serious. She had perfect grades every year and had already applied to sixteen colleges and universities, including four Ivy League options.

So Steve didn’t blame her for not skulking around with him.

With college-less, nowhere bound Steve.

“I’m really sorry,” she began, getting that sad look in her eye like that night in the mall bathroom when Steve spilled his drugged-out guts. Literally, and metaphorically.

“Nah, I was just lookin’ for something to do. It’s okay, Robin. Really.”

And it was.

Almost.

It’s just that, Steve’s not got a lot going for him right now.

He’s got a big empty house, and a brain that likes to give him excessive nightmares, and one age-appropriate friend in the whole place.

But he doesn’t wanna talk about all that shit.

And Robin looked like there was something on the tip of her tongue. Something her teeth were barely holding back.

So Steve just scooped up the stack of neatly ordered Action films, and made his way over to the far shelf, taking himself out of the situation before it would get to a place that would only make him lie more and more.

Robin means well. He knows she does.

It just feels like a lot of her well-meaning chats end up with Steve lying through his fucking teeth and Robin nearly in tears of frustration at his lack of openness with her.

She feels like being tortured and drugged together gives them a close kind of kinship very few share.

Steve feels like he’s got just too much fucked-up baggage to dump on her.

Not when they’re trying to put the Upside Down behind them.

Not that Steve could ever put it behind him.

He felt something build in his gut. Something hot and heavy. Something that always meant his powers were scraping at the walls of the neat little cave he had shut them in. Something that meant his skin would burn until he unleashed some of his pent-up energy.

He took a deep breath, blowing out the air slowly through his nose.

He had rules to his power. Rules he had given himself, mostly. Things he’d never use his powers for.

He tried to avoid his powers at all costs, but he had seen what could happen if he tried to tamp them down. It was less dangerous to open the lid of the box just a tiny bit.

Especially if he did it right.

He made his way back over to Robin, finding that spot in his brain that made a shudder zip down his spine. The spot that was made of cold and electric heat.

It was always too simple when he let the power take over.

Locate her feeling. Let him consume him.

And then just, twist it as much as he wants.

“Robin,” he spoke slowly, honing his suggestion. “You don’t have to feel bad about not spending time with me tonight.”

He felt her sadness and guilt about the evening recede about as fast as the tide.

She really shouldn’t feel bad about ditching him, especially not when her education is the main priority.

He matched her lazy grin, wiping his nose discreetly, only a small drop of blood smeared against his hand.

The rest of the shift passed without incident, and the roaring feeling in Steve’s gut had been sated enough for the time being.

So he pushed it back out of his mind, and returned to his empty house.

He was saving up to get his own place. He really was. But it was easier this way. He didn’t pay any bills, had lots of space to himself, and a pool in the backyard (that he never used).

And it’s hard for him to explain, but there’s something tugging him back into this house all the time.

He doesn’t know if it’s because it’s the only home he ever knew after the pain and fear that was his childhood in the lab, or if it’s something else that makes him feel tethered to the too-big house.

Sometimes he thought there was a sense of safety in the old place.

With parents that spent excessive amounts of time doing research for things he didn’t understand but was sure were important, it was largely an emotion-free place.

Which was good for Steve.

High emotion situations made his power boil up and spill over the edge like a pot of water on the stove.

A place like his empty house, he could keep everything in check. Not get his feelings tangled with those around him. Not catch thoughts that were just beginning to be molded into something brand new.

He clambered into bed, punching his pillows around in a way that was decidedly not petulant.

There was a steady silence in the old house. A silence that was as depressing as it was easy on his brain.

And there wasn’t silence.

Creaks.

Creaks issuing from downstairs. From the floorboards in the hallway.

Footsteps.

Steve was out of bed in a second, bat held aloft in as close to ready position as he could maintain while bolting down the stairs in his socks and faded green gym shorts.

He knew how to navigate the house without a sound. Practice of tip-toeing around a volatile not-father kinda ended up giving him something useful.

The creaks were still progressing, moving up the hallway from the back of the house, where his parents’ empty bedroom sat still.

The person was getting closer, lumbering slowly as if they were trying to be quiet themselves.

Steve adjusted his grip on the bat, taking proper batting stance, ready for the intruder to round the corner into his section of the hall.

First sign of a person, and Steve would swing.

No questions asked.

The floorboard before the bend in the hall gave a loud sound, and he could’ve sworn he heard someone curse under their breath.

He closed his eyes, and swung.

His bat sailed through the air, and connected with, not an intruder.

And then he was filled with an overwhelming sense of fear. A completely feral state of fight or flight made him nearly bare his teeth in an animalistic growl. He felt fear, and dread, and pure stubborn, stupid resolve.

It nearly blinded him, the emotions were so thick and clear.

And then there whooshed out of him, as though being sucked up by a feelings vacuum, leaving him empty and confused.

His top lip was covered in blood.

He had a lot of fucking questions as he stared at the bat, hanging by it’s long nails in the hallway wall, the ominous creaking moving past him towards the stairs.

The footsteps that were caused by no one.

It’s official.

Steve’s lost it.

He’s fucking crazy.

He’s hearing footsteps and voices swearing quietly, and he’s going mad and completely batshit and should be tucked away in a padded room for the rest of his life.

He didn’t even bother to wrench the bat out of the wall as he stumbled after the imagined footsteps.

He clearly needed to get a good night’s sleep, and to forget that anything happened at all tonight.

Billy hates Harrington’s house.

He doesn’t, really. It’s given him excellent shelter while he pulled himself together, and it’s out of town enough to serve as a good base for the little gang of Lost Boys he had accumulated.

It’s just that, the old house likes to make a lot of noise.

It keeps him on edge.

Every squealing door hinge, and every creaky floorboard sets his teeth on edge and makes him whip around in a frenzy, expecting to see a demogorgon snarling at him from the sitting room.

He nearly had a heart attack when he heard the thuds coming from upstairs.

He generally liked to avoid the top floor of the house.

Harrington’s bedroom was up there, and it wigged him out something fierce. He’d only been in the dilapidated version of it one time, his first night in the house he had claimed for safety.

He didn’t intend to stay the night in there, he had just stumbled upon it, and curled up in the bed.

He remembers not sleeping the entire night. He was so scared after coming to in the library, something slimy and disgusting slipping its way out of his throat.

The whole place had been screaming, as though the Upside Down itself was alive. Alive and being horrifically murdered.

He didn’t know what it was called then, all he knew was that Harrington’s house was the first one he came across, and that Harrington’s room was depressingly empty and impersonal.

But, there was a thudding coming from that general area, and if some kinda shitty creature was making its way into the house, he needed to hedge it off before it did any damage.

He took hold of his ax, never far from his side these days, and slipped out of his cot.

The floorboards in the hallway were creaky, and he tried to walk slowly, muffling his footsteps as much as he could in his heavy boots, not wanting to warn the monster he was coming for it.

He cataloged the crew in his head: Hopper had his troop of three in the basement where they were resting up for the supply run tomorrow. Timothy was on nightwatch with his team of five. Billy was in a pack with four others; Heather Holloway, her mother, Janet, and the two boys they found skulking around the library the same night everyone seemed to wake up. One of the boys was called Andrew. The other hadn’t spoken a single word the entire time they’d been trapped.

Billy liked to call him by different names each time he referred to the kid. Trying to get him to laugh. He couldn’t’ve been more than seven years old, and he was trapped in this fucking hellscape with the rest of them.

Andrew was thirteen. Billy didn’t like to look at him much. Andrew reminded him of Max. Which made Billy feel empty and achy in a way he didn’t think was very productive for survival.

But Andrew took a shine to Janet Holloway. Probably missing his mother and needing more comfort than his thirteen-year-old self was willing to admit.

The Holloway women were a hell of a lot feistier than Bill originally gave them credit for, saving his ass in a scrap just as often as he had been there for theirs. Heather and Janet were equal parts caring and soft, with the right amounts of clever and bossy to take point on their team.

Billy let himself be the muscle.

He let himself be the watchdog and attack dog. He took nightwatches and never let his weapons out of his grasp.

Everyone had a role.

And that was perfectly okay.

They had to keep together in this world. They wouldn’t survive it otherwise.

They’d all lost enough people to understand that.

One of the boards gave a hefty creak under his left foot, and he breathed a quiet fuck through his bandana, listening for more of the thudding.

It had stopped about forty seconds before, Billy had counted, and he couldn’t hear any other sounds of something forcing its way inside. Plus, the nightwatch hadn’t sounded any alarms.

He took another step, ax held ready and aloft in case he came face to ugly face with one of the horrible creatures that prowled the night.

He rounded the corner, and there was a loud bang on the wall next to his head.

He jumped as paint chipped off the wall and flew all over him.

He was hit with a feeling of intense fear, and adrenaline rush that caused all the blood in his ears to rush. He looked wildly around, seeing, nothing.

Billy bared his teeth, ready to go down fucking swinging.

As long as he took the fucker down with him, that’s all that matters.

Save the rest.

And he stood, ready to fight, ready to die.

And there was nothing.

Nothing in the hallway. He was all alone.

None of this shit made any sense. He hadn’t dreamed the wall cracked beside his head, and looking back, there were holes in the wall, and a big dent that had splinted the white paint and drywall beneath it.

There was some fucked up shit going on, and Billy didn’t like it one bit.

He continued down the hall, creeping to the stairs to check the original source of the noises that had woken him up.

Harrington’s room was pretty much just as he remembered it from that first night in the house.

It was sparse and sad-looking. The covers on the bed were all jostled and thrown around, the horrible spindle-like vines covering nearly every surface in the room.

They had cleared the tendrils in other rooms, cutting them and burning them back, ensuring the vines didn’t start creeping over them when they weren’t looking.

Billy didn’t fancy being covered and tethered by the slimy black vines. He was pretty much over all this Upside Down shit.

He took a cursory look around Harrington’s room, not noticing any signs of forced entry from a creature, really nothing was out of place.

The meager school trophies on the bookshelf next to the closet looked rotted and tarnished, just like everything else in this absolute hell called a parallel universe. There were few pictures in this room, much like the whole house. It had taken Billy a long time to notice the lack of inhabitancy the house had. The way it seemed to feel so cold and empty, it would be that way in the real world too.

His eyes swept over the dilapidated dresser, cataloging the room quickly for anything that should worry him.

Billy deemed the whole scene safe, and made sure to close the door tightly as he retreated back downstairs.

Steve’s going fucking crazy.

He was still in bed, his alarm clock ringing angrily at him as it had for the past six minutes.

He hadn’t slept at all last night.

Something just felt. Off.

The feelings in his chest were scrambled, and they felt foreign to him. Like he had taken in somebody else’s emotions.

But proximity was the key to his power, and he was alone. Alone alone.

Like, the closest person was Mrs. Gardfeld in the next house, all the way across their combined, much too big, yards.

It felt like. It felt like someone was in the house with him. Someone was in the house with him, and they were scared, and stubborn, and tired, and a flurry of things that made Steve feel ill.

And he couldn’t push them out.

He couldn’t find the chasm between this slew of someone else’s shit, and his own messy cocktail of feelings.

The other feelings were like those awful vines in the tunnel. Snaking around under his feet, wiggling up his ankles and keeping him stuck in the mud. Wrapping around his own emotions and squeezing until they just merged into one.

He’s lost the metaphor.

Doesn’t matter.

His feelings are fucked and his brain is fucked and his day is fucked.

And he has to work a double at Family Fuckin’ Video.

He found his way out of bed. Not going very far, just standing next to his warm nest of blankets, debating getting back in and hiding for the rest of his life.

He was going to be late for work.

He didn’t really give a fuck.

Keith would be all smug and probably make some remarks about Steve not even being worth the less-than-minimum wage he was making.

He took a shower, not so much cleaning himself as letting the lukewarm water cascade down on him and hope it got rid of the stench of sweat and anxiety and bad sleep that was clinging angrily to his skin.

His brain was empty.

Empty save for the pounding otherness that were these horrible fucking feelings.

Robin didn’t even have the heart to call him out for being nearly half an hour late.

“You look like shit.”

No, she just called him out for looking like shit.

“Y’know, it’s really wonderful to have such a caring and thoughtful friend in these trying times.”

She rolled her eyes. He always told her one day she was gonna get stuck like that. With her eyes permanently fixed towards the ceiling in exasperation.

“Drop the attitude, Steve Harrington. Just because you didn’t sleep doesn’t mean I have to suffer.”

Sometimes it was hard to tell if she was joking. Steve just clenched his jaw and stared at her blankly. Either she would get mad at him, or sigh and roll her eyes.

She sighed and rolled her eyes.

Bingo.

She wasn’t actually mad at him.

“You okay?”

“Jus’, some weirdness. Bad vibes.”

He couldn’t give her more than that. Couldn’t say I can feel someone else in my house and I don’t know if someone is hiding in my house or if I’m going crazy, oh and by the way, I was one of those freaky lab kids and I can manipulate and feel people’s thoughts and emotions, by the way.

That’s too much for a slow shift on a Saturday morning.

That’s too much for really any time of any day.

No, Steve fully plans to take all that shit to the grave. Like a real man, his dad would say.

“Well, if you could take your bad vibes back to rewind duty, that would leave all the good vibes up here to me.” She shooed him off with her hand, landing a quick slap square on his left asscheck when he groaned and dragged his feet dramatically on his way to the back room.

Not that Steve would ever actually complain about rewind duty. Steve preferred doing it to anything else in the place. Especially re-shelving. That was just asking for someone to come ask him for a movie recommendation. Steve only watched the same five campy old westerns and when he recommends any of those, people seem to wanna get out of his face right quick.

No, rewinding was dull and monotonous and solitary, all the shit that Steve really needed on a day like today.

There was a strict routine and he didn’t have to think or do anything.

Just sit. New tape. Rewind. Put in case. Put in re-shelve bucket. New tape. Rewind. Put in case. And again and again and again until all the tapes were ready to go.

Hawkins tended to take out a lot of movies on the weekend. Not much else to do when you aren’t sixteen and ready to hit up any party you could possibly weasel your way into.

So, Steve had about fifty some odd tapes to rewind from the past few days and he was feeling benignly excited about sitting in the small room for most of his shift.

It was easy to pass the shift like that.

Sitting with the quiet whirring of the tapes being tracked back to the beginning. Not having to deal with anyone’s thoughts except his own tedious ones about when he should take his lunch break and reminding himself to check the TV Guide for anything good tonight.

It was an odd emptiness that took hold of him throughout the day. And he almost felt, well.

Lonely.

He almost felt lonely.

Which is fucking bonkers because that horrible feeling of someone else had well and truly fucked him over last night, and well into this morning, but he kind. Missed. The other presence.

He’s officially crazy.

Someone find this boy a padded fucking cell because Steve Harrington has officially gone all kinds of batshit bananas wacky.

He’s feeling lonely because the horrible not his feelings of fear and anger and betrayal and desperation aren’t clogging up his little brain sink. Even when they were, the brain sink was threatening to burst and leak all over his brain kitchen.

Or something to that effect.

He let his eyes unfocus, watching Jaws at double speed and backward for the fourth time that day.

There was something about the foreign feelings he just couldn’t quite wrap his head around.

Something twinging in the back of his brain, screaming at him to open his eyes and pay attention.

But that’s never been Steve’s strong suit.

“Stupid. Fucking. Vines .”

Hopper muttered to himself a lot.

It was usually too muffled underneath his own bandana face covering and the hefty beard he had been sporting to discern whatever he was thinking, but it’s not like hating the awful black tendrils of gross plant/monster/everything-that-made-up-the-Upside-Down hybrid of vine-ish tentacles was something that just Hopper experienced.

It was a sentiment they all shared as they hacked away at the new growth in the dilapidated Bradley’s Big Buys.

They had already ransacked the general store five times over, and took as much as they could salvage from the wreckage of the other-dimensional mall.

Supplies were needed, and they had to be smart about it.

Things had been quiet lately.

Not many beasties out and about since the night they all seemed to come to.

Hopper had said something about the gate closing and the brain being cut off from the body.

Billy hadn’t listened.

He’d been scared off his ass and all that had really registered was clear for now.

So, they made supply runs. And poked around town for any survivors left to take back to Basecamp Harrington. Only Billy called it that.

They had the runs down to a system.

Pry away any vines they could, burning them back as they went, making enough room to slip into the bargain store, gather as much canned food and grimy medical supplies as they could manage, and book it back to the relative safety of the big house on the edge of the forest.

Nobody talked about what they’d do when they ran out of supplies. When they’d exhausted their resources and were stuck with nothing but the vines on the ground and the spores in the air.

Billy got it.

It’s not like he wants to hear he’ll probably die of starvation and/or a gangrenous infection before he’s eighteen.

They just. Make do.

Ration food and keep each other safe.

Always thinking about the minute they’re in and the minute coming up. Not looking too far forward.

There’s nothing to see too far in the future.

Billy crashed the blunt end of his ax through the sliding door at the front of the store, clearing away as much as he could.

Janet and Andrew would slip inside first go, taking as much as they could carry with them. Next round, Heather would take the little one and gather anything left.

Billy would keep watch.

He always kept watch.

Things had been too good for too long.

After the first wave of those who didn’t make it, the whole broken side of the Earth was too kind to them. Not sending horrible fleshy monsters to nearly suck out their very souls.

Billy didn’t think this could last for much longer.

Heather took the little one by the hand, rushing past her mother and Andrew as they returned with their supplies. Billy did a quick scan of them, noting no new injuries. Nothing out of the norm.

Supply runs were choreographed down to the minute.

Should the group not return in forty-five minutes, a search team was sent out.

The small group trudged back to the Harrington safehouse, keeping in the shadows, not a single one of them daring to speak. Billy walked slightly behind the others, never letting himself relax for a single second.

Things were too quiet.

The feeling hit Steve over the head like a sack of bricks being whacked against his skull.

Walking into his home was like walking into a stinking den of fear and anxiety. The air was clogged with so many emotions Steve felt like he was choking on them, slowly being crushed under their weight.

Whoever was emitting all these, Steve felt sorry for them. He can’t imagine living with this much bad energy taking up space in someone’s brain. He could barely cope with his own terrible bullshit. He doesn’t know how someone could cope with this.

He tried to move through his evening to the best of his ability.

He nearly set the house on fire when he left the tin foil covering on his frozen meal, causing the microwave to spark angrily at him, the potatoes underneath the corner of foil that had nearly caught fire to smolder and blacken.

Even in the shower, the water as hot and steamy as he could stand, he felt that prickle he couldn’t get rid of.

Like if he could just close his eyes and reach out far enough, his fingers would brush someone else. Someone nearby.

He’s felt it before. That there was a person just out of reach. A person he could feel clear as a bell, but couldn’t alter. Couldn’t manipulate. Just had to experience everything that was going on inside and try to hold on for the ride.

He wore headphones to bed, blasting a mixtape Robin had made for him last month. Something with a lot of heavy guitars and girls wailing about society.

He doesn’t think it was all that good, but it helped. Helped him feel like maybe the person wasn’t seeping into his own soul.

And the whining synth of Patti Smith finally let him get some goddamn sleep.

“Hello?”

It was his house.

But it wasn’t his house.

It was a blank void. It was nothing. It was nowhere.

But for some reason, his brain kept telling him it was his house.

“Harrington?”

It was Billy. Hargrove.

But it wasn’t Billy.

He was dirty, covered in soot and horrible black sludge that made Steve’s stomach churn.

“Why are you in my house?”

Billy looked around the blank void all around them. Water sloshed on the floor, lapping at Billy’s black boots. Steve observed his own toes.

He was barefoot, but he couldn’t feel the water.

“This is your house?”

Steve didn’t want to explain.

“You’re dead.”

“Could be soon.”

Nothing Billy said made any sense. But then, Billy never made much sense when he was alive, either.

He was an enigma to Steve. A big question mark all wrapped up with a gorgeous face and perfect body.

“Where is this to you?”

Why was Steve’s brain so adamant on declaring this place his house?

“Somewhere safe.”

So.

That’s something.

Dreaming about Harrington.

Not necessarily something that Billy wanted to have happen to him while he was experiencing the worst possible time in his life.

Or maybe he did.

He’d said it in the dream.

Somewhere safe.

It’s what he felt in that blackness.

Safety. Warmth. Hope.

All the shit he hasn’t felt since he opened his eyes in the rank-ass library.

That darkness was like a harness, keeping him grounded to something real. Tucking him in gently at night and kissing him on the head.

It made waking up that much shittier.

Knowing he’d be on nightwatch with Heather and Janet tonight, he used resting up as an excuse to lay on his cot, hardly moving in the clouded air.

He needed to process.

There was something so fucking weird about that dream.

It felt real in the moment, and he didn’t question anything that had happened.

Why there was water on the ground at his feet? Why Harrington was there wearing pajamas Billy could only describe as skanky? All of this made perfect fucking sense to dream Billy.

Awake Billy, had some fuckin’ questions.

Mostly, those previously listed. As well as: what the fuck?

He blames seeing Steve specifically on being in his house. That makes sense. You tend to think about a guy quite a lot when you’re living in the broken shell of his family home. He blames seeing Steve in those itsy-bitsy shorts and a homemade cropped t-shirt on the well repressed sexual interest he refused to admit he felt towards the guy.

All that made sense.

But everything else.

Steve said he was dead.

Was he dead?

Was this Hell?

Purgatory?

He’s read The Divine Comedy, and this doesn’t quite match up with any of the shit Dante waxed on about.

And dream Billy didn’t think that was a weird thing to say to someone. To accuse them of being dead. He just said could be soon and then acted like that was a normal fucking response.

His head was spinning out of control.

The only thing that made sense was when Billy said they were somewhere safe.

Because, they were.

Even in the void place, he knew they were safe.

There was a small tapping sound on the wall next to the open door frame.

The door had long since rotted right through.

“Miss Janet sent me to see if you’re alright.”

Andrew was always calling Janet Holloway Miss Janet.

It makes Billy wonder if manners like that were beaten into him by a father like Neil.

He hopes not.

He likes Andrew too much for that.

Andrew hovered around while Billy swung himself out of his cot.

He changed out the bandana over his mouth and nose.

Most of them slept fully dressed, even with their shoes and socks still firmly on their feet.

You had to be ready to go at the slightest sound of Bad in this place.

Plus, everything was so goddamn dirty, what’s a little mud in the sheets in the grand scheme of things? And the rancid rotting smell of the Upside Down did wonders to cover the smell of body odor.

Billy followed Andrew down the L-shaped hallway, to the sitting room where he found Janet and Heather huddled together on one couch, the little one between them.

“Apparently something happened on the run last night.”

Billy’s blood ran cold. He couldn’t make out Janet’s expression under her face covering. The little one got up from his spot on the couch, standing in Billy’s shadow. He liked to do that. Billy figured he felt safe behind someone so much bigger and stronger than him. Someone with a big fuckin’ weapon that was never too far away.

“Who’d we lose?”

“No one. Everyone’s okay. Hopper just called all of us for a discussion, then went to the basement.”

The basement was Hopper’s domain with his little chunk of the crew.

He had found some busted up H.A.M. radio from somewhere he refused to explain, and spent all the time he wasn’t watching over his shoulder for threats or gathering supplies from smashed grocery stores, trying to fix it up, tuning it to different crackling stations, and yelling into it.

El. El, I need you to copy if you can hear me. El!

The pillow was a mess of blood the next morning.

It was congealed and cracked and tacky against his face and made the pillowcase stick to his cheek and his bloody upper lip in a way that kinda made Steve wanna puke a little bit.

His nose had bled in the night.

He never got nosebleeds.

Unless he used his power.

And that dream.

That blank void space and that mucky scraggly Billy lookin’ like the hunky star of some apocalypse movie.

Wait.

Blood forgotten, smeared on his face and neck, Steve tossed himself towards the phone on his nightstand, smacking his shoulder against the wooden corner and tumbling to the floor, his legs still tangled in his sheets on the bed.

He couldn’t deal with anything, snatching the phone up and punching in the only number that was grinding through his head.

“ Pick up pick up pick up pick up pick up, ” he muttered into the receiver.

His upper body was still flopped over to the plush carpet, legs twitching and shaking on the bed with his anxiety.

He’s had some massive fucking realizations and he needs backup.

“This is the Byers.”

“Put El on the phone.”

“Oh. Steve’s covered in blood again. The Upside Down must really be back,” Dustin said in complete monotone as Steve opened the door.

Steve couldn’t give less of a fuck right now.

He felt like he was on the verge of a major breakthrough, all coming in the neat package of a major breakdown.

He felt manic and shaky and so what if he forgot he was covered in the aftermath of a superpower-nosebleed-explosion?

“Shut up. Just get in.”

El had rallied the old troops from St. Paul, calling everyone at the ass-crack o’fuck in the morning and saying something about catching some weird Hawkins vibes all the way from Minnesota.

It was a fucking weak excuse, but explaining the whole Steve situation was just not really in the cards today.

He’s got an agenda and they need to stick to it.

Robin said she’d gather Max on the way to Steve’s place, and Nancy was probably hauling Mike and Lucas over faster than a speeding gun or whatever that expression is, so all Steve had to do was get his story straight.

“And maybe you should think about putting on a clean shirt? At the very least. I’d say, maybe just start over. Take a shower. Powerwash your face, even.”

“When the fuck did you become sarcastic ?”

“Right after you became friends with the coolest chick on the planet and then decided you’re too good for her.”

“ Chick. Don’t call Robin a chick. And I’ve told you, we’re just friends. I’m not too good for her.”

Really, Steve thought she was too good for him.

Well, that, and there’s the whole part where she’s super totally not into guys at all.

“So, what’s this all about, anyway? Mike said on the phone that El called him and left a really cryptic message.”

“Look. She called me to explain and ask if everyone could meet here,” Steve lied. “I’ll give you guys a recap once the rest of the gang shows.”

“But she thinks there’s something going on with the Upside Down? Again ?”

“I think she knows there’s something going on with the Upside Down.”

The more Steve sat with the memory of how Billy looked in that dream, the more he was certain of where he was.

Billy had been ratty. His normally perfect hair was long and limp, greasy on top and matted around his face. He was sporting a patchy beard, nothing like the fuckin’ pornstache the guy had been rocking all last summer.

And he was filthy. Covered in grime and dirt, and Steve’s sure if he’d looked harder, he would’ve seen traces of that viscous black goo that only meant bad news.

There was a squeal of tires, an alarm signaling the arrival of Nancy in her mother’s station wagon, toting her brother and Lucas.

“I’m in this now, Lucas Sinclair!” came Erica’s voice from the entryway.

Steve was tapping his foot impatiently.

“Erica, you accidentally found out about all this!”

“So did you!”

The Sinclair siblings’ bickering was only cut by the sound of the Wheeler siblings snapping at one another in turn.

“Am I the only one that thinks it doesn’t make sense to meet up this early? El and Will are like, seven hours away!”

“Mike! It doesn’t matter. We all have to talk and figure out what’s going on.”

The sounds of arguments all quieted abruptly as the four people rounded the corner and caught sight of Steve.

“Oh, Jesus. Who kicked your ass this time?” Mike snipped at Steve.

Oh, yeah. He keeps forgetting he’s covered in his own nose blood.

“What? It’s nothing. I kicked my own ass. Just take a seat.”

“I told you to-”

Steve didn’t wanna hear it.

He loves all these people, but his head kinda felt like it was full of mushy jelly and runny pudding and all the loud talking wasn’t doing much to help.

He stepped out onto the porch, snagging the pack of cigarettes he kept stowed in the flower box next to the door.

It took two to finally tame his nerves any.

Sitting there with all the people in his house waiting for an explanation, he kinda felt like his haphazard plan was shit and going to fall through immediately.

Just tell them El called. Tell them she saw Billy in the nowhere place and she thinks he’s alive. Easy as pie.

The tell-tale sound of a skateboard making its way closer and closer announced Max before he saw her.

Robin was pedaling next to her, helmet lopsided on her head and not buckled underneath her chin.

They were talking animatedly to one another, their laughter dying as soon as they saw Steve waiting for them.

“Fuck. So this is real.”

“Why does everyone think I got the shit beat outta me?”

“Your ass gets creamed every time some spooky shit goes down in this place, Harrington,” Max informed him.

She was a little Billy replica, all the way down to the way the corner of her mouth twitched up when she said his name.

It would’ve been sad. The way she tried to become her brother after losing him so violently last summer.

But something like relief settled into his bones, strong and real and wait ‘til I tell her Billy’s not dead and he was laughing. Curling in on himself cackling so hard his stomach had already begun to get sore

“Fuck. He’s lost it,” Robin sighed, ditching her bike next to Dustin’s and heaving Steve up, both hands underneath his armpits.

Nobody dared speak.

“And you’re sure? You’re positive you heard one of those things?”

Janet had her arms twisted over her chest, her jaw tight as she watched Hopper’s every move.

“It’s not really a sound you forget.”

Billy’s hand was shaking, he was gripping the ax so hard.

“So, we’re fucked,” Angela said harshly. Her cold voice sent ice down Billy’s spine. “If those things are back, we don’t stand a fucking chance.”

Hopper scrubbed his hand over his brow, sighing through the cloth over his mouth and nose.

“It just means I have to try harder. I can get to El, I know I can.”

Hopper said that a lot. But he never explained what getting to El meant.

Heather had explained she met El once, but she said it was weird and she only saw her like some kind of shadow, a figment in this dark empty place. Somewhere as cold and broken as the Upside Down felt.

The little one was leaned up against Billy, his left hand balled in the edge of Billy’s leather jacket. He stood like that a lot. It was grounding for Billy. Kinda like holding Max’s hand when she was young and still thought he was the coolest person she’d ever met.

“But, you only heard something, right? So it very well could be nothing.” Timothy was good at keeping mediator. He always kept a level head and talked slowly and calmly. They needed someone like him in this nightmare.

“They make this noise. This kind of wet chirping. Like this gurgle that just sounds like they’re watching you, ready to pounce out at any time, shrieking and attacking. It’s not a sound you forget.” Hopper had this horrible haunted look on his face, and Billy fucking believed him.

“Then we up nightwatch. Stick together,” Billy offered. He never usually piped up with strategy, but that’s the best he’s got, and frankly, he thinks it’s the only way they’d all be able to make it through.

“Exactly. We move in a pack now. Keep track of everyone together, and stay aware of what’s around us. I think we should do a major run and then lock up for a few days to see what goes down.”

Hopper leaned back in the ratty armchair he was taking up, looking around to see if anyone challenged his ideas.

Billy had given up his alpha male attitude the second Hopper yanked his upper arm and nearly screamed at him, asking Billy if he was ‘one of the flayed’ all while aggressively checking him over for injuries.

First time any of Neil’s lessons actually sunk in.

Respect and responsibility.

If that fucker could see Billy now, doing nothing but respecting authority and taking responsibility for all these peoples’ lives.

“We should rest up. Take a run tonight. Get a lay of the land,” Timothy said with an air of finality. Nobody argued.

Hopper nodded.

Everyone broke out from the Harringtons’ living room, milling around to get prepared for tonight’s run. Taking stock of what they needed to keep going for the next few days.

Billy was itching to slide back into his cot and try to seek out that space if he can. The empty space where Harrington and that warm feeling of safe existed.

The little one stayed clinging to his jacket, and Billy took a loose hold of his wrist, trying to provide some kind of basic comfort to the tiny kid.

“You wanna go raid the cabinet?” The kid stared up at Billy with big eyes. Billy could never tell what color they were in the gloom. He thinks maybe green.

The cabinet was a large door, built into the wall of the sitting room, and clearly where the Harringtons kept their games.

They had these excruciating couple thousand-piece puzzles, the pictures peeling and faded on the pieces. They had Trivial Pursuit and backgammon, and all kindsa shit.

The little one went and pulled out the checkers board. That was the only game Billy knew how to play anyhow.

He and Max used to sit for hours, playing with this dinosaur-themed checker game Max’s dad got for her one birthday.

It helped, playing a game. Helped pass the time. Help bait the anxiety.

Helped them all feel a little bit closer to human.

“I don’t. Get it.”

Apparently, Nancy was not the only one, if the blank stares Steve was receiving from around his living room were anything to go by.

“Yeah, why did she call you ?” Mike’s snitty tone was really grating on Steve’s fragile nerves.

“She said, she called to make sure everyone could come over here before she told you all to just show up this early on a Sunday morning and then she kinda explained what happened.”

Max was white as a sheet, tracking Steve like he was playing a horrible joke on her.

“And she saw Billy. Billy Hargrove .”

Steve nodded at Dustin.

“Why does she think he’s in the Upside Down?” Robin asked, perched on the coffee table, sitting closest to where he was standing nervously.

“She just knows .”

It was frustrating, trying to impart the seriousness of the situation without just spilling his guts.

He rubbed absentmindedly at the cigar burn on his wrist.

“I just don’t believe this. I talked to her three days ago, and she’s still having trouble with her powers. She can barely move a book, and hasn’t been able to get to the void since July, and you’re saying she accidentally saw Billy Hargrove, who we all saw murder a bunch of people and then get killed -”

“Shut up! He wasn’t himself!” Max shrieked out over Mike, the only time she’d even opened her mouth since Steve had mentioned her stepbrother’s name.

“Even if he is alive, El couldn’t have seen him! It doesn’t make sense!” Mike’s voice rose over Max’s, and Steve has a fucking headache and he’s over it.

“It was me! I had a dream. I went to the void. I saw Billy in the Upside Down. I called El to say she saw him.”

Everyone went dead silent, staring at him.

“Steve,” Robin began, searching his face.

It was like all the wind that had been filling up his sails, powering his energy ship, had suddenly quit blowing.

Steve was tired.

He sank to the floor, crossing his legs where he sat.

“I need you all to shut the fuck up for a moment and let me explain, because I only wanna say all this shit once.” He covered his bloody face with his hands. “I’m like El.”

That statement hung in the air for a moment.

And then there was a roar of noise.

“How could you keep this a secret?” Dustin shouted.

“Not in a million years !” Lucas decided. Erica yelled something back at him, vaguely defending Steve, which was nice.

“You mean you came from the lab?” Mike had a look on his face like he’d swallowed a particularly bitter lemon.

“Everybody, shut the fuck up!” Max roared, glowering at each person until they were silent again.

In all this Robin hadn’t said a word. She was pale, staring at Steve.

“Look, I don’t wanna go into it because it fucking sucks to think about,” Steve still hadn’t uncovered his face. “But yeah. I was in the lab. I got out because they decided I was a failed experiment. My mom worked at the lab and she took me and we pretended like the three of us moved here from Oklahoma and my dad told me never to tell anyone. And I haven’t. Didn’t even tell El. She recognized me from then. Don’t even know how, I left when she was like, three. Doesn’t matter. I’m a freaky lab kid and last night I fell asleep and saw Billy in that-what’d you call it? The void? Yeah, I saw him, and he’s covered in dirt and gross black Upside Down shit, and he’s fucking stuck there, and now we’re here.”

There was another silence.

Steve didn’t dare to look at any of them.

He didn’t want them to laugh in his face. Tell him he was making all this shit up and leave him alone to deal with Billy trapped somewhere else.

He wanted them to take his word for it. To quietly believe this crazy fucking shit of a story because the scared other feeling was back and clawing at his spine and making him want to burrow into the ground and find somewhere safe and secure and-

“Okay.”

Of course it was Robin.

It was always Robin.

Steve let himself look at her.

She was pale, but she was smiling at him.

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

Steve nodded once.

“Okay. Uh, great.”

“Wait, if you’re defective, no offense, then how did you see Billy?”

Steve stared at Max weighing his answer carefully.

“Because, well, the defective thing, that was all, I didn’t mean to, that was before I really understood what I could do. Don’t get me wrong, it really worked out, but it was an accident.”

“Spit it out, Sailor Man.”

“ Erica .”

Erica just rolled her eyes at Lucas.

“Okay. Uh, before I explain, just, just keep in mind that I have rules, and I don’t use my powers if I can avoid them, and I’d never use them to be a creep, but-”

“Steve!”

“Fine!” The words were right there, ready to tumble out of his mouth and ruin his life forever.

There was no going back after this.

The second they knew, everything would be different.

“I can feel other peoples’ emotions and, like, change them.”

Another silence.

“I don’t understand.”

Nancy was the last person he’d ever want to have this conversation with.

He knows what she’s thinking. He knows that the great anger brewing inside her is because she assumes he made her like him. Made her attracted to him.

Made her want him.

“I don’t use it like that. I would never, put something there that shouldn’t be there. It’s just, When someone feels something near me, I can tap into it. Let it become my own feelings. And then I just, change it. Just a little.” He cast around for a harmless example because so far, everyone was staring at him like a goddamn creep. “Robin!”

She startled slightly when he yelled at her.

“Okay, so Robin. I’d never, ever make you feel something not true to you. Like, I’d never make it so you were into me when you’re totally not, right?” He cast a glance at Nancy. “But, like, the other day, when you felt really shitty when I invited you over and you were studying, I just, I made it so you wouldn’t feel bad. I felt all this guilt you had for leaving me alone when you thought I was having a shitty day, and I made it so you didn’t feel guilty because you shouldn’t. That’s the kinda level I allow myself to work on.”

The look Robin was giving him was breaking his fucking heart.

Worse still, was the feeling of betrayal that began eating away at her.

“So, right now. You can tell what we’re all feeling?” Even Lucas, ever the level-headed one, couldn’t look him in the eye.

“I don’t want to. I don’t try to, but I can’t really avoid it. I just try to ignore it. But sometimes, sometimes if I bottle it all up for a while, it comes crashing out of me, and that’s when bad shit happens. If I don’t use it occasionally, it only wakes things worse, and I-”

“I can’t hear this.”

Robin’s anger crashed through Steve like a wave, nearly knocking him over. She stood, towering over him.

“When we were in that bathroom, all drugged out of our minds. I-” she sniffed, rage tears pooling in her eyes. Steve likes her eyes. So crystal blue. “Are we even really friends?”

Her last question was nothing more than a whisper.

And it made Steve wish he was never born.

He gaped at her like a dead fish.

“Rob, of course we are! I would never-”

“Because I hated you. And then one summer. Two whole months where we’re close enough that you can get all up in my brain, and suddenly I’m telling you shit I’ve never told anyone before.”

“It wasn’t, Robin I swear, that whole time, I never once used-”

She held up her hand, cutting him off.

A sob caught in his throat as she turned on her heel.

She slammed the door closed behind her.

Another fucking silence.

Steve couldn’t look anyone in the eye.

Their feelings were enough for him now, betrayal and anger and disappointment rushing into his lungs, drowning him. Choking him.

“You’ve used them on all of us.”

It wasn’t a question.

It was just a statement. The coldest he’s ever heard Dustin sound.

“I just want everyone to be happy.”

“Jesus, Steve. You realize that’s actually totally fucked up, right? You can’t just make us feel whatever you want,” Dustin bellowed at him, standing up like Robin had done, looking down at Steve where he sat pathetically on the floor.

And, when it’s put like that.

Sure.

It’s kinda fucked up.

But he’s only ever meddled in a way that’s good. He only ever tries to make his friends feel the positives. Hell, on the night of that stupid Snow Ball, he’d given Dustin enough self-confidence to make Madonna seem insecure.

All he does is try to help.

“All I do is try to help.”

More fucking silence.

Steve was so goddamn sick of silence. All he had was silence. He had the nothing, empty quiet. And he didn’t want it from the people who were supposed to make his life loud.

“El won’t be here until later tonight. I think we should just meet up then.”

Steve buried his head in his hands, biting back sobs as the small group filtered out of his house.

This is why he had wanted to take this secret with him to death.

He told everyone who he really is, and now they all hate him, and he’s completely alone, and wherever Billy is he’s fucking scared and-

“Steve?”

Max’s voice was small, mirroring the way she was curled in on herself in the plush armchair near the wall.

“Do you really think Billy’s alive?”

Steve nodded at her, desperately begging her to stay. To help him.

“I know he is.”

“I have an idea.”

He doesn’t remember falling asleep.

Doesn’t remember much of anything in this place.

He studied the water lapping at his muddy boots, dragging his toes through it to make the water wave and ripple.

It didn’t make a sound.

“I want to help.”

Billy knew Steve was there even before he spoke.

Something about the warmth he brought to the void place.

The safety.

“Don’t know if you can.”

Steve’s lips twitched into a ghost of a smile at that. His face was covered in blood, dried and flaking away from his skin, painted all the way down his face and neck, some staining the collar of his shirt.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“That happens when the only interactions you have with a guy are to beat his ass.”

Steve cracked a real smile at that. Something big and bright that made Billy’s gut twist in a way he didn’t quite like.

“You’re forgetting all those other times we spent together. You’re not very subtle, you know.”

Yeah, Billy knows.

Mostly because he wasn’t trying to be subtle.

He had talked to Steve about his bitchy ex while they both had their dicks out in the shower. He was trying to be very much un-subtle.

“Wasn’t trying to be.”

“I know.”

Oh.

Steve knows.

And all he had done was stare blankly at Billy.

Nice.

“I need to know where you are.”

“Why?”

“Because I can help.”

Billy just blinked at Steve.

“Do you know El?”

Something funny happened to Steve’s face. He kind of gave a little smile that flickered into a frown and landed on something a little pinched and awkward.

“Yeah. How do you know her?”

“Hopper keeps saying he needs to get to her. None of us know what he’s talking about.”

And with that, Steve’s eyes went huge, and his jaw dropped. The water at Billy’s ankles sloshed quietly.

“Hopper’s there? Chief Hopper? Jim Hopper is there?”

“Jesus, yeah. Been here since we all woke up.”

Steve acted like Billy had told him that Farrah Fawcett herself was on her way to shave his head.

Meaning, he looked struck fucking dumb.

“I’m gonna need you to explain.”

“I don’t know. Don’t remember much. Crashed my car on one of your shitty backwoods roads, and then everything is just, kinda, gone. I woke up in this shithole version of the library and Hopper found me here and we’ve kinda set up camp.”

Billy shrugged lamely. Something was dripping, he could hear the sound of it far behind him.

“There’s more of you? How many?”

“Not as many as there should be.”

Steve’s mouth pinched, and his big droopy eyes went all sweet and sad.

“Where are you? Where’s the camp?”

Billy was suddenly embarrassed. There was a sound like a stream flowing over rocks.

What’s he supposed to say? The hellscape skeleton of your house oh and by the way all your stuff is here and I slept in your bed once because I was scared and sad.

“Someone’s house. Don’t know whose.”

Steve huffed some air out of his nostrils, his mouth pinching again.

Billy hadn’t realized someone could make so many different expressions just by pursing their lips in different ways.

“Find out. We’re coming to get you.”

A crash of a wave, and Billy was back in hell.

Steve sucked in lungfuls of air, tossing the towel that had been covering his eyes to the ground.

“You saw him.”

Max was sitting in front of him, the t.v. playing static behind her.

“Yeah. He’s okay. I mean, he’s really gross. Like, he’s-sorry. He’s okay.”

Max was still staring at him like she didn’t quite know how to proceed.

“But he’s in the Upside Down?”

“Yeah. And there’s others. He said Hopper’s there, that he’s been trying to contact El.”

“Wait, Hopper? He’s alive?”

“Billy said all of the flayed woke up after the Fourth of July in the Upside Down. He doesn’t know anything that happened in this world, and Hopper was there and they’ve set up, like, some kind of camp, or whatever. He said they’re in someone’s house. He doesn’t know who.”

“ Fuck .”

Yeah, Steve agrees with that sentiment.

This whole thing was like, kind of a lot.

And deep inside him, those other feelings had yet to leave him alone all day.

There was some kind of disappointment knocking about in his brain.

He knows it’s Billy.

All of those other feelings, it’s whatever Billy is feeling right that minute wherever he is.

And it only happens when Steve is-

“Max, he’s here.”

She whipped around behind her, staring at the front door like Billy could waltz through it at any moment.

“No, no not here, here .” She clearly didn’t understand. He used the towel to wipe the fresh blood from his upper lip, still having yet to clean himself up any. “The camp, the safeplace, it’s here. They’ve set up in my house!”

It felt like a revelation on par with the greatest inventions. Steve felt like the scientist that landed the man on the moon or the very first person to melt cheese onto fries.

A genius.

“So, he’s, I mean, he could be, just, here .” She looked over the room wistfully, and Steve knew how she felt. Like she wanted to pierce her hands into thin air, tearing a hole in between the two worlds and ripping Billy straight outta hell.

(Really, she just filled him with a wave of fierce determination, but Steve likes to take poetic license on other people’s feelings sometimes.)

“And you can feel him.”

“Yeah.”

“Is he, okay?”

And he knows this question.

Not the okay he assured her of when he first saw Billy. Soothing that he wasn’t missing any internal organs or possessed by any monsters.

She wants to know if he’s held it together.

“He’s scared. He’s always scared. But he’s really fucking stubborn, and he- I don’t know why he feels these things, but sometimes he gets kinda sad. Almost like he’s lost something, and sometimes, it feels like he’s caught fire, and his insides are just going up in flame and he gets overwhelmed by them. And sometimes he feels-” He hadn’t meant to continue.

“Tell me.”

He’s pretty sure Max knew what he was going to say next.

She just wanted it confirmed.

“Hopeless. Sometimes he feels hopeless.”

She sniffed, her eyes shining as she looked anywhere that wasn’t Steve.

“But, we know now. He doesn’t have to be hopeless anymore. We’ll find a way in, and we’ll get him out.”

He didn’t want to manipulate her.

He didn’t want to cross the boundaries everyone clearly thought he already had.

But he was positive he would find a way to Billy. He was positive he would get him out and get him home.

He sent a wave of that determination and hope and conviction to her.

“Yeah. We’ll get him.”

“Hopper, man, some funky shit is going down.”

Hopper whirled around quickly, halfway to his feet and asking who's been hurt before Billy raised both hands, acting like he was calming an anxious horse.

“Nah, sorry, shoulda worded that better. I just mean, something’s happened to me. With me, maybe. I don’t know. Just hear me out. This shit’s gonna sound, insane.”

Hopper didn’t say anything as Billy explained, beginning with that night when the wall shattered next to his head, and ending with his most recent trip to the void place.

Billy shrugged lamely when he finished explaining.

“So, Harrington, huh? Never woulda guessed he was like her. You sure you didn’t see a little girl anywhere in the blank place?”

“No. It was just us. Both times.”

Hopper leaned back in his chair, scratching a hand through his thick beard.

“The first time one of the demogorgons showed up on our side was behind Steve’s house. Took Will Byers from his shed. They live some few miles away. Second time was in Harrington’s backyard. Took Barbara Holland.” Hopper sighed, looking in the direction of the busted radio. Billy could more or less see the cogs turning in his head. “If you see him again, tell him where we are. Tell him I think the walls are thinnest here. That maybe he and El could tear through. Better yet, tell him to find me if he can.”

He clapped Billy on the shoulder, looking right at him in that way he did sometimes. It always made Billy feel like a little kid.

“Thank you, kid. You might’ve just saved us.”

Billy felt awkward and didn’t really know what to do with his face. Thankfully, Hopper turned away from him, cutting the moment short and moving back to fiddling with the old radio.

Billy ducked his way up and back to the furthest bedroom on the ground floor, taking a seat on his low cot and digging his palms into his eyes.

He didn’t know how the void happened. If he could only get there in his sleep, or if it was Steve’s doing somehow.

“C’mon, Steve. Where are you? Come find me, Pretty Boy. We gotta talk.”

When he moved his hands away, he was in that blank place.

Billy was taken aback a bit, thinking somehow he had created the place around him.

Until he saw Steve, standing nervously and staring at Billy.

“I felt you. What’s wrong?”

“Sorry, you felt me? What in the fuck’s that supposed to mean.”

“Don’t worry about it. What happened? Are you guys okay?”

Steve wasn’t covered in blood anymore.

In fact, he looked freshly showered, his hair slightly damp and soft-looking without product.

It’s how he always looked right after having a post-practice shower. Clean and warm. Soft and inviting.

“I talked to Hopper. He told me to give you a message.”

Steve’s eyes lit up, and he took a step towards Billy, the water rippling where his foot disturbed the surface.

“He said, well. He told me where we are. Apparently, we’re at your place.” Billy tried to smirk a little, act like this was brand new information to him.

“Yeah. I gathered.”

“He thinks the walls are thinnest at your place. Said that maybe you and El could tear through easily. That mean anything to you?”

Steve nodded so hard his bangs flopped right into his eyes.

He pushed his hair out of his face, tucking some behind his ear. Billy tracked the movement.

“We’re going to try tonight. Maybe around six. Can you guys be ready by then?”

“We don’t have any way to track time around here. Don’t even know if it’s day or night, really.”

Steve bit his soft bottom lip, looking at Billy like he wanted to cry for him.

“Then I’ll come and get you before. Warn you when we’re about to start. Make sure everyone stays close. I don’t know how long we’ll be able to keep it sustained, and we want to get everyone out if we can.”

“Steve, man, what in the fuck is going on? I’ve been shut up in this place for, for I don’t even know how long, and all of a sudden, you just start showing up in my head and telling me that you’re gonna take point on this big fuckin’ rescue mission.”

Billy doesn’t want to admit it to anyone, least of all Steve Harrington, but he’s scared, and confused, and he genuinely wishes that he had died in that library instead of waking up.

“I’ll explain it when you get back.”

And Steve smiled at him and the corners of his eyes crinkled and Billy didn’t quite feel like he wanted to die anymore.

“Where are they?”

El didn’t even say hello when she pushed Steve’s front door open, just made straight for Max and Steve in the sitting room.

“They’re all being dicks,” was Max’s answer. “Steve told us about how you two know each other, and everyone kinda freaked.”

“I mean, it’s pretty freaky.”

“Yeah, sure, but they didn’t need to be such shitbirds about it.”

Somewhere between feeling harshly angry at Steve and his powers and hearing her brother’s voice crackle through the television speaker, Max had pretty much ensconced Steve as her sidekick.

Which he didn’t mind in the least.

It was kinda odd seeing the Byers in his house.

Jonathan looked. Exactly the same.

Like literally. His hair had grown out since his mother had taken a pair of scissors and a bowl to it last summer, and he looked just like the Hawkins Jonathan Steve was used to.

It was kinda nice.

At least one thing hasn’t changed.

Especially because Will is pretty much unrecognizable.

He had shot up, growing until he could nearly look Steve in the eye. And thank God, he must've followed Jonathan’s footsteps and stopped letting Joyce cut his hair.

It was longer, adn shaggier, but it made him look so grown up.

Nearly as grownup as El, her hair nearly down to her shoulder blades, the top of her head coming up on Steve’s chin, showing off the signs of her own growth spurt.

Even Joyce was sporting a new look. Longer hair with bangs that were swept off her face.

She gave Steve a comforting hug, and those were just the same.

Unease filled the room.

Nobody knew what they were walking into. El had to have given them the basics, and Steve figures she explained some on the long drive back to town, but there had been even more developments since the last they had spoken this morning.

Steve sifted through the borderline panic of Max and the Byers, clinging onto the fierce calm that El was radiating. Probably for his benefit more than her own actual experience.

“I know where Billy is. We talked. I have an idea.” He took a deep breath, bracing himself for the feelings. “Hopper’s alive.”

It took a second.

El’s carefully maintained calm wavered for a moment.

And then it crashed down.

Disbelief, relief, denial, anger, hope, joy.

Everything a person could possibly feel at once poured out of El and Joyce both, nearly knocking Steve off his feet with the sheer velocity of the emotions.

“Saw him?”

“No. But Billy mentioned him. He said he’s been trying to get to you.”

El’s eyes filled with tears, and Steve could feel the satisfaction, the pride, welling up in her that Hopper was still thinking of her. That he was trying to reach out.

“My powers,” she trailed off.

“Yeah. I know. But, he said, well, he told Billy to tell me, he thinks the walls are thinnest here. Maybe in the woods outback. He thinks we can do it.”

Sorry,” Joyce interrupted. She had gathered herself somewhat, but her feelings were still shaky.

She always felt like she was trembling emotionally. Joyce felt everything nearly as viscerally as Billy did.

“I think we’re not on the same page. Steve, you spoke to Billy? El said she sensed him.”

“Steve is like me. From Papa.”

“You mean, from the lab?” Jonathan clarified.

Everyone was staring at Steve again and he felt like burrowing a hole right through the floor and hiding underground forever.

“Yeah, I got out when I was a kid. My parents were pretty hell-bent on hiding it from everyone. But. You know. Cat’s outta the bag now. But yes, it was me who saw Billy. He’s in the Upside Down. A bunch of people are. Including Hopper. It sounds like they were all taken and the flayed people out here were like, fake. Like evil twin versions.”

Sure, it’s a shitty explanation.

It’s the best he can do, okay? Leave him alone.

“So, what’s his plan, then?”

That’s the good thing about the Byers, though. They get the whole, priority thing. Now’s not the time to focus on shit like Steve’s fake life. Not when the Upside Down is concerned.

“Billy didn’t say much. Just that he thinks maybe El and I could like, band together to open it. I don’t really know how, I mean, I haven’t thought about it much, I just spoke to him, but that's the idea. I told him I would meet him in the void or whatever before we go so he can gather everyone and get ready.”

“So, is it just us?” Will asked quietly, biting the inside of his cheek. He was disappointed. His friends not being where they were needed. Not being there to see him for the first time since his family moved away months ago.

Steve shrugged.

He was battling his own disappointment and hurt at everyone ditching him.

“No. Let’s start calling. We need to stick together for this one. Billy hasn’t said anything about how bad the Upside Down has been, and we need to be ready to fight off anything that tries to get through.”

“Max is right. They should be here.” Will was already making his way to the phone placed on the side table. “They need to be here.”

Jonathan caught Steve’s eye, jerking his head slightly to the hallway.

Steve followed him, already knowing the line of questioning that was about to hit him.

“I knew you called El. I picked up this morning. Now the story makes a lot more sense, I guess.”

“Yeah. I’ve been getting this weird feeling for a couple months, but I finally put it all together. Probably would’ve happened faster it is was El.”

“I don’t know. She’s been struggling a lot. She practices every day, but,” he sighed” I don’t know if she’s strong enough to make this work.”

He’s worried, adn scared, and has that exact same tremble-feeling that his mother does.

“I know. I just don’t think we can leave them any longer. Billy said they’ve already lost people. I don’t know what it’s been like for them, but they’ve been stuck for fucking months, and-”

This time, it hit him so hard he really did blackout.

His vision clouded around him, and his whole body burned with the raging fear inside of him.

He could hear something, could hear someone screaming, adn something, something that sounded horrible, and so very very like a-

“Demogorgon!”

It’s like it had come out of nowhere.

This towering figure, long and thin in all the wrong fucking ways.

And the sound. Billy realized what Hopper meant about how it’s not something you forget.

They were in some form of a ready position.

Billy among the front of the group, holding his ax he had never let go of in the first place.

His heart was pounding.

We’ll be out soon. We’ll be out soon.

He didn’t believe it.

How could he?

How the fuck is Steve Harrington going to get them out of the worst place ever? No offense to him or anything, but the guy could barely make a goddamn milkshake without spilling something on the sticky tile floor of Scoops Ahoy! and now, Billy’s life is in this guy’s hands while he stares into the jaws of a monster that looks like it stepped right out of H.P. Lovecraft’s wettest dreams.

It’s not like this is the first time he’s had this realization, but he is in way over his fucking head.

“Steve,” Billy grumbled to himself through gritted teeth. “If you can hear me, get us the fuck outta here.”

The thing ahead of them wasn’t moving. It stood in the line of the trees behind Steve’s house.

It was staring down the clump of people on the other side of the backyard.

The air was still.

Billy’s ears were ringing.

He stared the thing down.

Its long fingers twitched.

Someone screamed.

And the thing charged.

It roared like nothing Billy had ever heard before. A shriek that seemed to vibrate Billy’s bones and tremble the earth underneath his feet.

It charged.

Sprinting forward on long thin legs, it loped with a grace that turned Billy’s stomach and made his knees wobble and threaten to give out.

Plant your feet.

It rang through his head, Steve’s voice from, some time Billy couldn’t remember. Or maybe Steve was just the little voice that commanded his bravery now.

Either way, he dug the balls of his feet into the cracked ground, and waited.

Don’t stop fighting.

He swung.

The ax clocked right into the side of the thing, barely cutting into its thick leathery skin, but it slowed it down.

Well, actually.

It made it change course from attacking the group as a whole, to honing in on Billy.

Which was less than awesome.

Billy wrenched the ax out of its tough body, thick, sticky black goo connecting the ax with its entry point as he drew it away.

He swung again, nearly hitting the same place.

The thing cried out, roaring over the sound of screaming and gunshots.

Hopper had his rifle trained on the flowered head of the one Billy was furiously chopping into like a tree.

There were two more, two he hadn’t noticed in his preoccupation with the one in front of him.

He didn’t know who was who. Which gunshot belonged to which gun, which shriek belonged to which animal.

He didn’t know if the cries of pain were from the awful beasts or the people in his camp. He was hoping the former.

He swung again. There was a sickening sound of the metal blade connecting with something solid. Something like bone.

Hopper shot it, once, twice in the head.

It was whining, making a high-pitched noise as it staggered about.

One last blow to the side of the thing, and it was finished.

The monster flopped onto the ground, dark liquid oozing out of it, its body nearly split in half where Billy had hammered it with his ax. A great gaping wound that showed sticky dark entrails.

Billy turned.

His brain was working in slow motion as he charged into the battle still raging.

He didn’t know how many of the things had arrived.

All he knew was taking them out.

His arms were sore from the force he was putting into each blow with his ax. His muscles threatened to give out at any moment.

Drive them back. We’re coming.

The thought was shoved into his head. He didn’t know where it came from but he believed it.

“Help is on the way!” He shouted to no one and everyone.

He had taken down two more demogorgons with the help of the others. One was missing its body, a petal head lolling on the ground, getting trampled on in the fight.

Steve had felt the demogorgon before Billy saw it.

It was an odd feeling, almost like it was a black hole sucking up everything he thought and felt before he could cling onto it.

It made him feel cold, and empty, and just like the Upside Down felt.

“We don’t have time!”

El was insisting on contacting the others. She was livid with them for abandoning Steve, but things were taking a turn for the small group trapped in that hellscape.

“Steve’s right. If there’s a demogorgon there, that means the Mind Flayer has gotten some strength back, wherever he is.”

Steve nodded at Will gratefully.

“But, what’s the idea? You two open the gate. Then what? We wait for those things to come through to our side?” Jonathan asked, kinda harshly, if you ask Steve.

Steve rubbed his eyes, his fists pressing against them so hard he was seeing odd shapes.

“No. I go through. I get them. I bring them back.” His head was a fucking mess. Billy was all over the place. Fear, desperation, and a horrible calm that only came when things looked like the end. Plant your feet, he thought, trying to get his feelings to Billy through the thin dimensional wall. Don’t stop fighting. “For the past few days, all I’ve been able to feel is somebody else’s fucking fear and this stupid stupid stubbornness and I know it’s Billy, and I know he’s in trouble. Like right now. The demogorgons are coming for them, and he’s so scared. He’s so fucking scared and he thinks he’s gonna die, and he’s trapped .”

He looked at each person individually, glaring at them all in the eye.

“We don’t have time.”

So it was decided.

He brought El outside, and stared into the shimmering water of the pool.

The pool where a demon came out and dragged Barbara to her death.

It gave him the fucking creeps. Well, it more gave him the severe anxiety, but there was something about it that made it seem like it was the best place to try and rip the fold between himself and Billy.

Drive them back. We’re coming.

He wanted Billy to have some hope. Something like a lifeline that would keep him fighting the monsters.

He had wrenched his nail bat out of the wall it was still planted in from a few nights ago, and stood next to El, ready to try.

“To be honest, I don’t know how to help you.” It was the only thing that scared him about this plan. “I don’t have the same powers as you. The telekin-the moving stuff around. I don’t know how to open this.”

She looked at him thoughtfully.

“In Chicago. Kali. When I’m angry my powers are better,” she took his hand. “Make me angry.”

Steve closed his eyes.

He tried to push Billy to the side, clinging onto the first bit of El he could sense.

Her anger was like a melted core running through her. Driving her in a lot of ways.

He grabbed onto it.

Papa. Everything he did to your mama. Being locked in isolation. Fights with Hopper. Being trapped in the cabin. Feeling alone and not knowing how to fix it. New kids at school being mean. Techs in the lab that treated us like rats. The smell of skin burning. Parents that called you a freak.

He didn’t know when he had stopped using El’s ready-made rage, and began siphoning his own straight into the beating heart of her fury.

His gut began to feel white-hot, and he could feel the blood dripping down his lip.

Lying to everyone. Being abandoned for the truth. Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.

Steve was livid.

He’s never felt an emotion consume him like this. Felt one feeling take over so completely it’s like there was nothing else in the world.

He opened his eyes.

There was blood flowing steadily from El’s nose, and he knew his was doing the same.

He could feel his heart pounding against his ribs, his body going into overdrive to divert all of his energy to his powers.

The rift glowed red through the clear pool water, splitting open like a seam on a well-worn shirt.

The burn on his arm ached, and he pushed into it.

He remembered being held down on his father’s desk. Remembers the cigar being forced against his skin, bubbling up and disfiguring the tattoo beyond recognition.

He remembers his father, this is for your own good, Steven. You’ll tell everyone you had an accident. People won’t question a burn like they will a tattoo.

Like no one would take one look at the quarter-sized mark and know what would make it.

He remembers getting the tattoo.

It was nearly the same process.

He was strapped down in a chair, his screams going ignored as the needle drove into his skin over and over, leaving a neat black number behind.

001

Number One.

The first in a series of children bred for something more, and beaten into acceptance.

His head felt like it could explode. He didn’t know what was going on around him, was barely aware of El’s sweaty hand in his, and the bright red light coming from the cracked bottom of the pool.

It was open.

Number One took a deep breath, and dived into the pool.

It was the little one that noticed it.

Billy had been trying to yell at him to get back inside, to keep himself out of harm’s way.

They had killed six demogorgons, and more were certainly coming.

The trees in the forest were rustling in a way they never did on their own.

The little one was pointing frantically, his eyes wide and scared.

Billy turned, and his blood ran cold.

Something was moving in the pool.

It was making the thick non-water slosh around dangerously, the dark liquid lapping over the sides and staining the concrete.

There were vines crisscrossing over the surface of the liquid, and Billy approached it carefully, hoping whatever was coming out would be trapped underneath them.

“This is the last fucking thing we need,” Hopper gritted out, cocking his rifle and aiming at the sludge.

And then Billy’s head felt like it had been cracked open.

He was blinded with pain and rage and

Help me, Hargrove!

He started swinging his ax wildly at the vines. Trying to break them apart enough for a body to fit through.

His heart thundered in his chest, and he dropped to his knees, ripping at the slimy black tendrils.

He shoved his left arm in.

It was like dousing his arm in ice. Like the liquid was made from the purest essence of cold.

He searched frantically with his hand, finding something solid and yanking with all his strength.

He had to put both arms in, grabbing hold of whatever he could, using his body weight as leverage to extract Steve from the cold.

He was limp when Billy finally got him out, but breathing heavily.

He opened his eyes, wiping his face free of the goop and blood covering him, and grinned at Billy.

“Told’ya we would get you out.”

They shepherd him inside, most of the gang speechless and struck dumb from the events of the past while.

Steve was given a change of almost clean clothes, and allowed to use some of their bottled water ration to clean the freezing black fluid from himself.

He wasted little time, and was down in the Upside Down version of his living room with everyone else.

“We can’t be long. El had to use a lot of strength to open it, but she’ll need her strength to close it, too.”

Nobody knew what in the fuck Steve was going on about.

Nobody but Hopper, that is.

He still had disgusting pool sludge all over his front from when he pulled Steve into a tight hug when he had gotten his bearings back from his journey through the rift.

“We can’t send people through that shit. It took all of Billy’s muscle to get you outta there.”

“So we drain it,�� Steve insisted. “My parents drain it sometimes, I know how to do it.”

“I’ll keep watch. Make sure nothing tries to make itself known.”

Billy had barely wiped himself off.

He didn’t care anymore about how freezing that shit was, he just wanted to surge forward, and get back the fuck home.

Hopper studied them both.

“Bring weapons. Yell if you need help.”

Billy nodded once, and turned on his heel, following Steve out the back door.

Steve led him to a wooden shed on the side of the house. Billy had to clear the vines away from it before Steve could pry open the doors.

It was full of pool equipment, and it didn’t take long for Steve to locate a large grubby pump. He knocked it against the wall of the shed until the filter attachment clattered off, leaving bigger openings for the sludge to, hopefully, run through.

“Shit. This thing is electric. You got electricity?”

It was the first time Steve had really gotten a good look at Steve since being in the Upside Down.

He looked exactly as he had in the void place. His hair had a lot more disgusting black fluid in it, and he overall looked kinda shitty with the flecks of grime and blood on his face, but he looked bright. Alive. Strong.

“How did you do it? Take me to that place. Figure out we were here.”

Steve flushed. Billy had become overly aware that his face was completely covered under his bandana. Steve should cover his face.

He drew another one of his back pocket, and, he didn’t know why, but he tied it around Steve’s face.

Seriously, he could’ve just handed it to the guy and called it good there. But no. He had to set his ax on the ground, propped against his leg, wrap his arms around Steve’s shoulders, and tie the bandana like this was some intricate ritual.

All while Steve just stared at him with those fuckin’ eyes of his.

“It’s a long story.” Billy could barely hear Steve speak through the dirty cloth now covering his mouth and nose. “I’ll tell you when we’re back. When we’re safe.”

“I’m holding you to that, Harrington. Can’t have a guy poking around my dreams and shouting in my head without knowing his intentions.”

It was as close to flirting as Billy dared right now.

Right before they tried to journey between worlds.

“Good to know you heard me. I was trying to give you something of a pep talk.”

“Well, it worked. I would’ve just put my arms out and let those things rip me to shreds if I hadn’t have known.”

Billy didn’t know what Steve’s face was doing behind the cloth, but his eyes dropped, and Billy imagined that little cinch of his mouth that he had noticed Steve doing so much in that void place.

Billy meant it as a joke.

He really did.

And the Billy that was torn to bits in the mall wasn’t this Billy. Wasn’t the real Billy that was made out of real Billy materials and real Billy personality.

But it still made Steve feel queasy, thinking about his arms spread wide, black goop pouring out of his mouth and nose as the Mind Flayer decimated him.

“We’ve got a lot to talk about, Billy. Just, not now.”

And Steve turned off, hauling the pump back to the pool and taking calming breaths.

The pump sank without much effort, like there was some kind of gravitational pull at the bottom of the pool.

Steve had connected the thickest hose he could find, adn sent Billy off with the extension cord to find an outlet that didn’t spark and threaten fire.

Before no time, the pump was humming, and pushing black slime through the hose and onto the dead grass.

They didn’t need to get it all out, just as much as they could shove everyone through.

Steve closed his eyes, trying to reach El like he had Billy.

We had a hold up. Shouldn’t be long.

He could feel her on the other side.

She promised she would stay close enough to the rift that Steve could get in touch with her.

He could feel something slither down his spine, a wordless confirmation from her.

The liquid in the pool was slowly edging down, leaving a stain on the once-white walls of the pool.

“Gather everyone up. Tell ‘em to meet out here. Tell ‘em to leave it all behind.”

Billy was still staring at the edge of the forest when he commanded Steve.

It was odd, being in his house that’s not his house.

Everything was so. Wrong.

From the way the house seemed to be crumbling down, reduced to its studs in some areas, to the way it was still clearly his house. Paintings his father had bought. Elegant furniture his mother selected.

It was all there. Just under a thick layer of dirt and nightmares.

He thought idly about his bedroom, wondering if it would look like it did on his end. A little messy, the sheets typically rumpled and unmade.

He resisted the urge to wander upstairs, reminding himself he was on a mission.

“It’s time. Don’t bring anything. It’ll probably be ruined along the way.”

Everyone looked grave. Steve tried to smile at them, tried to push through some calmness to them all. He had forgotten Billy’s bandana was tied around his face. He sent one last wave of quiet confidence around the room, and led the group through the kitchen.

They had barely rounded the corner of the kitchen island when they heard a strangled yell from outside.

Steve put his head down, and sprinted through the shattered glass doors, skidding to a halt in the threshold.

Billy was staggering backward, his ax forgotten on the ground and his left hand was clinging wildly to his right shoulder.

His jacket was in tatters, thick blood dripping bright crimson down his arm, standing out like neon against the dark, dirty ground.

Steve didn’t feel himself moving forward. He didn’t feel his hands raising in front of him.

He just felt anger. The same anger from before that had ripped through him like a raging forest fire and straight into El.

The thing shrieked.

It backed away from Billy, twisting and writhing as its horrible screams filled the air, making the hair on the back of Steve’s neck stand on end.

Fierce fury was exploding out of him, and he grit his teeth against the pounding in his head.

“You don’t get to hurt him,” Steve barely barked out.

All went still, and the demogorgon snapped into pieces.

Steve felt like he could pass out where he stood.

He had never felt so wrung dry.

His vision was waning at the edges, and he felt an arm around his waist, coaxing him toward the red light now barely shining through a thin layer of slime in the pool.

“Hold your breath, Pretty Boy.”

Steve was limp against him, and Billy was doing his best to ignore the searing pain in his right shoulder as he held Steve close to his side. He had fumbled off both of their face coverings, moving clumsily through the pain of his injury.

He took one last breath, and jumped into the rip between worlds.

He plunged into the water, the crystal blue of a chlorinated pool.

It was the best feeling in the world.

Being covered and surrounded by clean. The heated water doing more to soothe Billy’s frayed nerves than anything in his life.

He kicked hard, swimming one-armed to the surface, Harrington a dead weight in his injured arm.

His head broke the water, and he took in deep lungfuls of clean, crisp air.

Someone was tugging at Steve, and Billy, for the first time in his fucking life, was glad to see those kids Max was constantly hanging around.

A woman Billy didn’t know was fawning over Steve, feeling for a pulse, and looking relieved when she felt his hot breath against her palm.

“There’s more coming,” Billy coughed.

He barely managed to get the words out, dripping muck and grime on the cement by the pool, when it felt as though he was hit from the side by a speeding train.

He buried his nose in bright orange hair, hugging Max back as tightly as he could manage.

He was exhausted, and feeling her there, alive and okay, was all that was keeping him standing.

“I thought, I mean, we all thought you were dead. We saw it. That thing killed you .” Billy realized, with a whole lotta horror, that she was crying. Sobbing outright into his dirty chest.

“Yeah, I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” How could they have seen when that monster just came at him?

“Oh, you’re bleeding.”

And if she only just realized he was hurt?

Max frog-marched Billy inside, to a very pale-looking Nancy Wheeler, sitting ready with a first aid kit.

Billy had to peel his clothes off his body, the fabric stuck to him like a second skin.

Nobody was speaking, and more of the people locked in the other place came traipsing into the room, fluffy towels wrapped around their shoulders.

Hopper was the last to come in, holding the woman tight to his side underneath the striped pool towel.

“Steve and El are closing it back up.”

There was a quiet murmur around the room.

Nancy patched up Billy’s shoulder, Max still stuck to his side like glue, the little boy from camp pasted to his other side.

He had no idea how much time had past when Steve finally came traipsing into the room with Max’s little friend, both of them sporting matching bloody noses.

Steve looked like shit.

His face was covered in blood, old and new, and he still had some of the gross not-liquid in his hair from the Upside Down.

But Billy doesn’t think he’s ever been happier to see someone in his life.

“I’m sure everyone has questions,” said the woman tucked against Hop’s side. El, Billy assumes, had taken her place on Hop’s other side, wrapping the towel around her shoulders as well.

The woman launched into a story that made Billy feel like his brain was oozing out of his ears.

A monster. One they had all met before. Playing body snatcher in their sleepy little town.

Apparently, one had been wearing a Billy meat-suit and wreaking havoc around town, which made Billy wanna throw up until he died.

Which, not-Billy, had died. Fuckin’ brutally. And in front of everyone. Which sure as shit explained why Max wouldn’t let go of his sweaty hand.

The story made Billy queasy, and he took to studying everyone in the room instead.

All the kids were there, even the one that had been following Steve around like a little shadow, but they were all glaring in the very much opposite direction of Steve.

Steve himself was pressed almost against the wall, looking like he’d collapse if the wall weren’t supporting him.

“What’s up with the cold shoulder?” Billy muttered to Max.

“They’re mad at Steve right now. He’s been lying to us all.”

It was all he got out of her before everyone started moving around.

The woman, Joyce Byers, he’s learned, had finished her story, and the group from the Upside Down had begun clamoring for rides home, or maybe something to eat.

Billy just saw Steve manage to slip away before he followed him.

It took some doing, shaking off the little one, who still wasn’t speaking, and looked ready to burst into tears when Billy told him to stay behind in the living room.

But Janet Holloway took the kid’s other hand and gently led him back into the living room.

Billy nodded at her, and sped up the stairs.

It was weird, being in Harrington’s actual room.

It was messy, and looked like Steve spent most of his time here tossing clothes on the ground or twisting up in his bed covers like a tornado.

But it was oddly comforting.

Being in Steve’s real room, and not some perverse dirty copy.

Steve was standing, facing the bed, peeling his borrowed jacket from his shoulders and leaving it there on the floor.

“I never said thank you.”

Steve startled at Billy’s voice.

“Yeah. No problem.” Steve’s tone was light and airy, but Billy heard him sniff.

“Max said the little shitbirds are mad at you. Something about you lying.”

Steve turned around, giving Bily a watery smile.

“It’s a long story.”

“I got time.”

So Steve told him.

About the lab.

About the experiments.

About the torture.

He explained that he had rules. Never making anyone feel something they already didn’t. Never altering someone’s opinion of, or feelings towards him.

Billy grit his teeth as he imagined Wheeler giving Steve a hard time about that.

Steve was silent for a moment, not looking at Billy.

“It’s okay if you hate me. I mean, everyone does now.”

“You'd be able to feel if I hated you. You and those powers of yours just saved my life, Pretty Boy. I’m pretty sure I’m feeling the farthest thing from hatred just about now.”

It was as close to a confession as Billy would let himself get.

But if Steve knows what he’s feeling at any given moment, then that means that he knows, and he didn’t-

“Quit it. Insecurity isn’t a good look on you.”

Steve sounded tired, and he flopped back onto his bed, staring at the ceiling with his arms out.

At first, it didn’t sit quite right with Billy.

He had barely even begun to identify what he was feeling when Steve swooped in and just point blank told him what the emotion was.

Billy spent nearly all of his time being a big fuckin’ facade.

He tried his very best to hide any emotional tell from anyone around him.

He prided himself on being a chameleon. That nobody would ever truly know how he felt in any given situation.

And here’s pretty boy Steve Harrington. Who is feeling just as, if not more, strongly as Billy is.

But, it takes out all the parts of emotions that Billy hates dealing with.

Showing them. Talking about them.

He’d never once had to grapple with the words to explain how he feels to Steve.

Steve would just.

He’d know.

And god, that’s kind of a nice idea.

Billy sat down gently on the bed.

“Alright.”

Steve’s head popped up to stare incredulously at Billy.

Billy just grinned at him.

#this fic is named after kind of a throwaway line in rocky horror but thats my favorite movie and i thought it fits :)#i worked so hard on this and i'm really proud pls like it i'm begging #yikes writes #yikes gets pathetic in the notes #harringrove #harringrove big bang #harringrove big bang 2021 #harringrovebigbang2021 #harringrovebigbang #also look at me writing something in-universe for fucking once #steve harrington #billy hargrove #powers!steve #experiment!steve #i hate using the ! like that but whatever

132 notes · View notes

rafesgfs · 4 years

Text

side to side

Warnings: swearing

Word count: 4.6k

Summary: In which you're performing your hit single in front of your fellow Avengers cast-mates and Chris can't seem to take his eyes off of you, catching the attention of a few cameras.

"I'm here with the biggest pop-star of this generation, and she plays the very talented daughter of Tony Stark," the interviewer announced your name, smiling brightly at you as the camera panned your way. The hundreds of thousands of fans at home screaming when your face appeared. "How do you feel with all your nominations tonight?"

You smiled at the camera, giving a small wave at the people watching at home. "Honestly, I'm just glad I was even considered for these nominations. I mean, my girls Taylor, and Billie...they're amazing and I'm so happy to be put in the same category as them."

The lady grinned at you, her eyes twinkling. Or maybe it was her sparkly dress, the fabric nearly blinding you with how it shined under the lights. "If you ask me, you've got a pretty good chance at winning. I mean, your hit single—Side to Side—surpassed, like, a billion views in just a month? That's impressive."

"Well, I couldn't have done it without my fans." you replied, winking at the camera.

It was that time of the year again, where every artist, actor, and YouTuber hit the stage for the People's Choice Awards. With your crazy schedule, and the lack of sleep, you had planned to skip the award show until your friend, and co-star, Chris Evans—Captain America himself—convinced you otherwise. Even with the categories you've been nominated for had been more than a handful, but it was the begging and constant complaining from Chris that made you get off your tired ass and put it into a tight dress.

Your hit single, Side to Side, had everyone anticipated for your performance, unsure if you would be performing until the producers had put your name into the advertisement, making fans blow up Twitter. You were sure they had advertised your own song, along with your movie nominations, more than you ever had.

With nominations of Movie of the Year (Avengers: Infinity War), Action Movie of the Year (Avengers: Infinity War), Female Movie Star of the Year (Amara Stark), Female Artist of the Year, Song of the Year (Side to Side), Music Video of the Year (Into You), Beauty Influencer of the Year, and Social Celebrity of the Year, you had your hands full, which had only made your manager glow with happiness.

"Of course!" the interviewer agreed, glancing at the teleprompter filled with tiny words. "It was rumored that you wouldn't be coming, and a lot of us were upset, including me. Was that just a rumor or..."

"Actually, it's not that far off. I'm fucking—oh, shit—oh no!" you gasped, covering your mouth before anymore foul words could come out on live television. Instead of correcting you, the lady laughed, patting your arm softly. "Can't say that on tv. My bad. I, uh, with everything going on, I've been really tired, and I haven't slept in a week. I just wanted to chill, and accept my nominations at home but someone convinced me to come. So, if I say or do anything ridiculous tonight, I'm blaming him and my lack of sleep."

She nodded, clapping slowly. "I think that's fair. Is that someone, your onscreen father, RDJ?"

"He was one of the many people who unsuccessfully changed my mind, but no, it was Chris Evans. He promised me a day with his adorable dog, Dodger, and I couldn't refuse." you said, grinning at how his face had changed from hopeless to cocky as soon as he brought up Dodger.

"If I'm remembering this correctly, Chris Evans is that very handsome man you had kissed in your music video earlier this year. Into You, right? How do you feel kissing one of your co-stars outside of the movies your working on?"

"Technically, it was still acting, and I have kissed him before, so it wasn't awkward at all." you answered, glad Chris had accepted the role. Not only had it sky-rocketed the views and streams, but it made you feel better that it was his lips you were kissing and not a random model's. Yet, it didn't feel as professional as it had before when you pulled away after a take.

In scenes where you had to kiss the Boston actor, it was as professional as kicking Anthony Mackie's ass in Civil War but the kisses you shared on the set of the music video was definitely more personal. At the time, you had brushed it off as Chris being recently single, but now that you had broken up with Henry, you started questioning it again.

The interviewer nodded, squinting once more to read the words off the teleprompter before asking you another question that would certainly make the headlines. "I've been reading up on all those juicy tabloids and I've got one question that would satisfy my curiosity. Was Into You written about Henry Cavill or Tom Ellis?"

Usually, that type of question made you change the subject or altogether avoid the matter but this time, you wanted to joke about your failed engagement. "Henry, but Side to Side was written about Tom since I wanted more Grammy's considering the last album I put out won me a few. But this time, I'm gonna do it without an engagement."

The woman faked a laugh, surprised by the blunt honesty of your answer. "Um, you certainly do have a thing for British men, eh? I don't want to keep you up, but one more thing, for the fans. They've been dying to know if there's anything going on between you and Chris Evans. Any tea you wanna spill?"

"There's none to spill. We're just friends but it's always amusing scrolling through Twitter to find these edits of us." you replied, fidgeting slightly with the hem of your dress. Like usual, you had wondered if you should've worn something less extra but you had let your stylist play dress up with you for the past few months.

"Of course. Well, good luck to you, and I can't wait to see your performance." she said, giving you a little pat on the shoulders before announcing your name once again.

You got off the little platform, immediately taking Chris' awaiting hand, holding onto it as you climbed down the steps in your dangerous stilettos. Sighing, you leaned on him, trying to avoid the blinding camera flashes. "That was more exhausting than I thought it would be. You need to get me some caffeine after this is over because there's no way I'm making it to the after show without at least a few cans of Red Bull."

"So dramatic." Chris grinned, childishly sticking his tongue out as he guided you down the red carpet, stopping when told to take a picture. He let go of your hand, only to wrap it around your waist as you posed for the pictures. "Are you going to the after party?"

Posing seriously for a few seconds, you let your smile back on your face, facing the man beside you. "I was thinking about it, take a few photos, and head back home. Aren't you?"

"Actually, I was thinking we could ditch it and just hang out. You know, I did promise you some time with Dodger and you could waste a couple hours sleeping." he replied, his hand tightening ever so slightly on your waist. Flashing you a shit-eating smirk, he nudged you a little, pulling you away from the blinding flashes. "What do you say?"

You opened your mouth to answer only to be cut off by your manager, Alexandre coming out of nowhere to rip you away from Chris' arms. The latin man sighed in annoyance, glancing at his watch while giving you the look you've seen too many times before. "You're supposed to be in wardrobe right now. Get your ass backstage, and change before you miss your own performance. As for you, Mr. Evans, Megan wants your ass in a chair."

"I'll see you after." you say, getting dragged by your manager, winking at the actor before walking towards the changing area, the cameras following you until they couldn't enter the area.

Getting ready before a huge performance always calmed you down, maybe it was the smell of makeup or the feel of designer clothing made especially for you, but something about it made you feel comfortable and cozy. It was like a routine, especially with all the music videos and movies you had to film, the makeup, the hair.

They made you sit back, giving you your phone like a child while they made you even more sparkly than before, making sure you'd stand out against the flashing lights during the performance. A performance you made sure no one would ever forget. Smiling, you let your thoughts drift back to a certain super soldier as you were pampered.

—

"Welcome to the People's Choice Awards!"

The room darkened, the blue and pinks lights focusing on the stage as cameras all turned towards your shadow. Making sure your mic was set properly, tried to see past the darkness, to see a familiar face or two but with the headache coming on from the tight half-ponytail didn't help your case. The music started, the beat vibrating, you flipped your hair, and started.

"I've been there all night

I've been there all day (Nicki Minaj)

And boy, got me walkin' side to side (Let then hoes know)"

You rode the bike, belting out in your microphone, the attached headset limiting your movements a little. Gripping the handles, you made eye contact at the camera to your left, winking at it as you pedaled.

"I'm talkin' to ya

See you standing over there with your body

Feeling like I wanna rock with your body

And we don't gotta think 'bout nothin'

I'm comin' at ya

'Cause I know you got a bad reputation

Doesn't matter, 'cause you give me temptation

And we don't gotta think 'bout nothin'"

As you had sung, your eyes had adjusted to the bright spotlight focused on you, seeing a shadow of the one person you wanted to make you walk side to side. While you had answered the reporter's question, you hadn't been completely honest. Some of the lyrics had been written for the Bostonian; or to be more exact, your sex fantasies. With the chorus coming up, you let go of the handles, trying not to fall on your ass as you clapped your hands above your head, the claps matching the beat.

"These friends keep talkin' way too much

Say I should give you up

Can't hear them, no, 'cause I..."

Trying to be bold, you stared at him, his face in particular. The spotlight had blinded you so much that you couldn't see what his reaction was—or anyone's for that matter—but maybe it was a good thing. After all, his gaze always made you blush no matter how hard you tried not to. Pedaling faster, you threw your head back, hoping the motion would draw everyone's—Chris'—eyes on your chest.

"I've been here all night

I've been here all day

And boy, got me walkin' side to side

I've been here all night

I've been here all day

And boy, got me walkin' side to side"

With the help of a shirtless dancer, you got off your bike, taking the sheer jacket from him, and putting it on as you walked towards the front of the stage, moving your hips in to the beat of the song. Resting a hand on a shirtless dancer, you positioned yourself so you were grinding your ass against his crotch, throwing back an arm around his neck.

"Been tryna hide it

Baby, what's it gonna hurt if they don't know?

Makin' everybody think that we solo

Just as long as you know you got me

And boy, I got ya

'Cause tonight I'm making deal with the devil

And I know it's gonna get me in trouble

Just as long as you know you got me"

Sashaying to the little balance beam at the front of the stage, you made sure your hips swayed more than usual.

"These friends keep talkin' way too much

Say I should give you up

Can't hear them, no, 'cause I...

"I've been here all night

I've been here all day

And boy, got me walkin' side to side

I've been here all night

I've been here all day

And boy, got me walkin' side to side"

A few seconds after your note ended, you strike a pose on the balance beam, posing for a few more seconds while the cameras turned their attention away from you and onto the queen of rap herself: Nicki Minaj. The leather, pink bodysuit was identical to yours except for the color, her attitude fitting the badass outfit. She began to walk towards the stage, never breaking eye contact with the camera in front of her while the men pretending to work out to the choreo.

"Uh, yeah

This the new style with the fresh type of flow

Wrist icicle, ride dick bicycle

Come through yo, get you this type of blow

If you want a ménage, I got a tricycle

All these bitches' flows is my mini-me

Body smoking, so they call me Young Nicki Chimney

Rappers in they feelings 'cause they feelin' me

Uh, I-I give zero fucks and I got zero chill in me

Kissing me, copped the blue box that say Tiffany

Curry with the shot, just tell 'em to call me Stephanie

Gun pop, then I make my gum pop

I'm the queen of rap"

By the time she had finished her verse, you had caught up with the multitasking of both working out and singing, able to use your full singing capabilities for your high note. Nicki joined you on stage, hyping up the crowd while you built up for the high note, almost every camera pointed at you except for the one focused on capturing the headline-worthy expression slapped on Chris' face.

"These friends keep talkin' way too much

Say I should give em up

Can't hear them, no, 'cause I...

"I've been here all night (Been here all night, baby)

I've been here all day (Been here all night, baby)

And boy, got me walkin' side to side (Side to side)

I've been here all night (Been here all night, baby)

I've been here all day (Been here all day, baby) (Ooh, baby)

And boy, got me walkin' side to side (Side to side)"

Both you and Nicki motioned for the dancers to come towards you, curling your index finger at the sexy men. Singing the refrain, you both made them drop to their knees in front of you, as if they were kneeling at your command.

Just as the last note was sung, everyone clapped, the majority standing up, and more cheered. You noticed Chris hadn't done either, still sitting in his motionless while two camera men pointed their cameras at him. Your eyebrows furrowed, thankfully after the spotlight had shifted over to the miniature stage where the two hosts were babbling about nominations.

You were ushered off the stage along with the queen of rap herself, taking a few backstage photos before quickly returning back to your dressing room to change into your tailored dress. Your mind had wandered to why Chris hadn't applauded—not that he was obliged too, but a little something would've nice, especially with all the days put into the performance.

Taking a deep breath, you entered the big room, filled with your co-stars and other A-list celebrities. Little did you know you'd find out the reason to your question in the morning.

—

The loud ringtone woke you up, the sound obnoxious and borderline abuse to your ears. Beside you, Chris groaned, rolling onto his stomach, trying to muffle the sound of the call with his arm draped over his head. Putting him out his misery, you lazily reached for your phone, pressing the green button with dread, seeing the name across the screen.

"Hello—"

"You're trending on Twitter." Alexandre announced, happy with the results of the previous awards show. While it wasn't something as big as a Grammy or Oscar, judging by the amount of awards you had taken home, you became the people's favorite. "Hold on, lemme rephrase that. You and Chris are trending. Number one, world wide."

Glancing at the man sleeping beside you, you sat up, confused by the information given to you. You blamed Chris for making you stay up so late for your confusion. "Um, why? Did I accidentally have another nip slip?"

"What the hell?" Chris mumbled, rolling onto his back, his arm grazing your bare stomach. He immediately took it back, sitting up to look over your puzzled face. "What's going on?"

You shrugged, putting your phone on speaker so Alexandre could explain. Your manager chuckled, knowing you had stayed the night with Chris. He was just waiting for the day you'd finally have the guts to speak about the growing sexual tension. "Okay, Alex, explain."

"As much as I would love to go into full detail, I have other stuff to do so, I'm going to give you the basics. Chris' reaction to your performance went viral, people are shipping the both of you, and there's been thousands of memes made." Alexandre replied, a smile evident in his voice. "Anyways, I have to go. Got some interviews to schedule. Have fun getting your way out of this, Chris."

Your phone screen went back to the home screen, a picture of your family dog, Buster, smiling widely. Looking at Chris, you saw his eyes widened, his hands coming to rest of his face in embarrassment as he fell back onto the bed with a bounce, his head nearly hitting the headboard. "Oh, fuck."

"Are you going to show me what your face looked like or do I have to scroll through Twitter until I find it? Oh! Maybe they edited it in my performance." you thought out load, tapping on the YouTube app. You hadn't trusted yourself enough to log into your official account, knowing you'd probably make a mistake so you opted for having a secondary account where you could watch cat videos without the anxiety of posting something stupid.

Chris' hand snatched your phone away, tucking it in his pocket, the sweats he had slept in was somehow wrinkled, and his shirt damp from the warmth. "You wanna get some food? I'll cook some bacon but you'll have to make the pancakes 'cause the last time—"

"I wanna see your reaction." you whined, reaching across his stomach for your phone. Chris turned his body away from you, shielding the phone from your reach. "Chris!"

He waved your attempt away, rolling off the bed, his feet hitting the floor before you could fall back on the mattress.You poured, getting on all fours, crawling towards the edge. Chris took a step back, brows furrowing. "It's not important. Let's get you some food."

"Fine." you mumbled, an idea making you light up. Rolling off the bed, you glanced at his phone on the nightstand, exposed and easy to take. With quick reflexes, you grabbed his phone, rolling back on the bed until you reached the other side, making it impossible for him to reach for his phone back.

"Hey!" the Bostonian shouted, launching himself on the bed in attempt to get his phone back. He made a noise as you rushed out of your room, locking yourself in the nearby bathroom, laughing evilly when he threw himself at the door. He yelled out your name, his fist banging on the door. "I'm serious! Don't!"

Ignoring his begging, you opened his phone with your thumbprint. How ironic how much he didn't want you to look at his phone when he was the one who insisted you have the password to it. His arguments became louder as you opened up his Twitter, immediately heading to the trending section, seeing both your names at the number one spot.

"Damn, I look hot." you joked out loud, making Chris silent for a second before pleading for you not to continue. You smirked, scrolling through the tweets, trying to find his reaction. "Jesus Christ, what the hell happened to you? Did you fall on your face or something?"

Chris groaned, banging his head on the door in defeat as he heard your almost inaudible gasp, that quickly turned into little giggles. If he wasn't so embarrassed, he would've broken the door down to hold you in his arms. "Oh, no."

Bursting out into hard laughter, you fell into the large bathtub, hitting your head on the wall but you couldn't care less. The expression on his face during your performance had been borderline comical, the wide eyes, the jaw hanging open, the open hand resting on his chin while his eyes stayed strained on you the whole time, never wavering from your body, the sexy choreography making his jeans tight.

Cackling like the Wicked Witch of the West, tears ran down your cheeks, your stomach cramping from the maniacal laughter. Lifting yourself up from the tub, you stumbled to the door, your loud laugh ringing out towards the whole house. You let Chris in the bathroom, his phone quickly taken from your hand but it was too late. The blush on his cheeks wasn't going away anytime soon. You leaned against him, your head resting on his chest, while you panted out a question. "Why did you look like you were trying to attract flies in your mouth?"

Chris groaned again, covering his eyes with a hand while the other rested on your back. "You're not going to let me live this down, are you?"

"Oh, God, no." you giggled, wiping the tears away, beginning to calm down. Glancing up at him, you noticed everything above the shoulders was gleaming red, the embarrassment too unbearable for him. "Chris, you looked exactly like the first time we were forced to share a bed together."

"Yeah, you have that affect on me."

"You gonna tell me why you looked so ... shocked? Or do I have to search through Twitter and go with whatever fan theory makes the most sense?" you asked, unable to keep the smug grin off your face. Chris closed his eyes, wishing he hadn't made you come to the awards show in the first place. You raised an eyebrow, fingers itching towards his phone. "You know I'll do it, Evans."

The man raised his hands, taking them off of you as he paced around the bathroom, deciding if this embarrassing moment was the right time to finally confess. "It's just, you know, the dance was so ... sexual and hot that I probably wasn't the only one looking at you like that. You can't exactly blame me for being shocked, watching the girl I'm in love with—"

Chris stopped as you be watched the colors drain out of your face, immediately freezing when he realized what he had said. Both of you stared at each other, eyes wide, not moving a muscle, barely blinking; the atmosphere so tense neither of you were breathing, waiting for the other to talk. But neither of you wanted to go first, terrified.

It wasn't until you started to feel dizzy that you realized you hadn't been breathing, letting out a huge breath, trying to relax while Chris did the same, his hands shaking, a nervous tick he got whenever he was anxious. You got the courage to speak first.

"What?"

It was better than nothing.

Chris was so nervous he nearly ran out of the room. There wasn't some kind of handbook or script he could read, helping him tell one of his best friends how head over heels he was for her. So, he said what his brain was stewing. "What?"

"What—what?" you replied, unsure if he even said the L word, so lightheaded by the sudden confession.

The actor stilled, eyes widening even further, while his eyebrows shot up his forehead. "What?"

"What?"

"Say what one more time, Evans, and I will make nothing but mac and cheese for the rest of your stay." you threatened softly, getting tired of not having an answer to your one-worded question.

Chris took a deep breath, hands trembling as he clasped them together, hoping to find the right words, hoping his inner thoughts would come out clear, giving you the answer you asked for. "I'm sorry. What do you want me to say?"

"What you were saying before. You know, before you looked like you saw a ghost and almost stopped breathing. I think that would be a good start." you replied, backing up to take a seat on the plush chair. Chris mirrored your actions, putting down the lid to the toilet before sitting down.

"This isn't the way I wanted you to find out." Chris whispered, his blue eyes trained on the emotions that flashed on your face. Your uncertainty of the situation didn't help his anxiety.

"Okay, um, were you going to tell me in the first place?" you asked, playing with the hem of your shirt—it had been a borrowed Patriots shirt from him. Looking back, you realized all the little things he'd done hadn't been because his platonic love for you. "Or were you just going to keep letting it be this way?"

Fidgeting with his hands, Chris peered through his eyelashes, seeing the hurt flash across your face before you quickly composed it. "Scott was hyping me up, trying to convince me to tell you before you got into another relationship. Do you know the real reason I broke up with Jenny? It hurt like hell when you announced you were engaged. Fuck, I couldn't even pretend to be happy because you were going to have the life I wanted with you, with someone who wasn't me. It was selfish and I got really mad at myself for being a dick."

"But—"

"And then the horrible, horrible relief I felt when you called off the engagement." Chris continued, his heart clenching. "Truth to be told, that was the day I found out I was in love with you, breaking things off with Jenny. Of course, I wanted to wait until you moved on, hoping to be the friend you went to but with my schedule, that was impossible. So, you seemed out comfort in Henry fucking Cavill."

"You're in love with me?" you whispered, hoping this wasn't some kind of cruel dream. If it was, you wouldn't mind staying.

The actor nodded, waiting for you to call him names and rush out. "Yes. You can leave or slap me or whatever you want to do but I love you."

You got up, running a hand through your hair. "Okay."

Chris' heart sank, wishing for any other kind of reaction, wishing you'd do something. Taking a deep breath, he got up. "Is this a goodbye?"

Frowning, you walked up to him, taking his face between with your hands, pressing your lips softly to his. You could feel his heart beat, the little organ beating so hard. You pulled away before he could recover from his shock, before he could kiss you back.

"Hello."

#chris evans #chris evans characters #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #chris evans fanfiction #steve rogers #captain america #reader insert #marvel #chris evans x singer!reader #nicki minaj #ariana grande #fluff #side to side #song fic

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its-my-little-dumpster-fire · 3 years

Text

KRYPTOS: Storm Comin'

Billy Russo x Reader, 1.5k

A/N: It's been literal years since I sat down with an idea and an hour later had something to post. But this one jumped out. Thanks, Billy. Also I haven't been linking them because I'm a turkey, but all of these are named from songs off my Billy Russo playlist, except this one. It was taken from the Let it Burn reader playlist... and it's fitting as hell. This is Storm Comin' by the Wailin' Jennys

This is a companion piece to Let it Burn, Part Seventeen and the story told from Billy's point of view.

Billy Russo and the dreams that keep him awake.

“How’d you sleep, Billy?”

His head hurt.

The restrictive sack they wrapped him up in was too tight.

His skin felt like it was on fire… his face especially.

But that wasn’t why he slept like shit.

“I need you to respond, Billy.”

Not that being awake was more comfortable than the hell he walked through every night.

“Did you sleep at all last night?”

“Maybe.”

“How long?”

“I wasn’t exactly counting sheep, doc.”

It wasn’t enough, she said. Nightly average hovering at two hours, while the rest of the world clocks out for seven hours a night. He’s heard all the statistics and they don’t mean shit to him.

“Are you avoiding sleep? Are you afraid to sleep, Billy?”

There were only flashes of light in his dreams. His mind was trapped in the dark and bound by uneasy feelings for hours. Fear was too small a word. Kids were afraid of the dark. Dogs were afraid of loud noises. He knew a guy in his first apartment building that hid in the bathtub with his mattress pulled over him whenever fireworks went off. What Billy felt was in his blood. Ice that ran through his veins. Fire that danced across his flesh. Neither strong enough to kill him, but enough to keep him both frozen and in pain.

“Or are you afraid to dream?”

What’s a dream? Really. Jumbled nonsense that a brain pieces together to make sense of the science that soldiers on when your body powers down. There was a guy in the corps with him… Brandon, Brendon, Brant- whatever. Had these dreams, vivid as hell, and B-word believed that everyone over stale coffee needed to know what bullshit his brain concocted overnight. Then he’d follow it up with some meaning for it all like a goddamn fortune cookie.

Perhaps the doc would call that a coping mechanism.

“This is a part of the plan, Billy. We expose the nightmares to control the nightmares. Do you remember that, Billy?”

When Billy was a kid, he had this recurring nightmare that something was chasing him. His scrawny body would run and climb and throw whatever he could into his path, but the second he slowed down, whenever he tried to hide, that’s when he’d be caught. He never stayed asleep long enough to find out what was chasing him and woke with his pale chest heaving and his pretty face contorted. Any boy that dared to bring it up in the morning would get his ass kicked, but no one ever did. Billy wasn’t the only kid with dreams and it was agreement between them all that what happened in the dark stayed in the dark.

Perhaps the doc would call that a predisposition.

“Tell me about the skull, Billy.”

Only one problem, doc. That’s no dream.

Dreams are fiction. The flashes in the darkness, the blood and the sound of breaking glass. The smell of gunpowder and butter. Those things aren’t created in Billy’s mind to teach him a lesson. They’re memories. Last night he saw his face. His own face. Broken and bloodied and fractured like the mirror itself was in tiny pieces. But it was undeniably his face and it rocked Billy into waking. He laid in the dark, wrapped up like a psychotic burrito with salsa for brains, trying to breathe.

Dreams are fiction and they happen when he’s asleep. This is no dream if the wide black eyes and dripping white fangs follow Billy around while the sun shines outside. It’s not a dream if it lives in the dark corner of his attached bathroom, making Billy stretch an arm in to grope the wall for the light before even facing the door. It’s not a dream if everytime one of New York’s finest pokes their head in the window and all Billy sees is the skull inside their head, melting like it was painted on.

The doc can flip through his journal and weave whatever meaning she wants from this terrorist that lives in his head, but Billy has already determined that isn’t some fucking dream. It’s his life.

“What about the storm, Billy?”

That makes him stiffen up in his seat.

“You haven’t talked about the storm lately.”

That’s not an accident, doc.

It started before the skull, but he didn’t notice. Storms aren’t easily ignored though and once Billy saw it… he couldn’t see anything else. Black tendrils of smoke that spun menacingly in his head, moving closer and threatening to swallow him whole. Like a cyclone, just spinning and making him sick and crowding his vision until it overtook him. Like being chased, Billy never stays asleep long enough to find out what happens when he finally gets swept up in it. He knows he does. You can’t avoid a tornado when it’s right on top of you, you can only prepare for it then hide from it.

“What happens when the storm gets too close, Billy? What do you see?”

“Nothing.”

But that isn’t entirely true.

Maybe it’s the lack of sleep getting to him, or it’s the doctor’s words- both equally unlikely, but Billy doesn’t wake up when the storm comes anymore. He waits. He watches as flashes of blood and bone and broken glass get swallowed up in the vortex. The storm gobbles up this memory and it comes for him next.

Watching the skull disappear into the darkness is soothing in its own way. Something terrifying is gone, replaced by something else. His gut says it's worse. The doc wants him to identify his nightmares, but this shadow makes them go away. It’s delaying his progress, it’s hiding the truth, it’s keeping him trapped, but also… when the skull is gone, he sleeps. Billy’s knee doesn’t jump quite so fast the next day. His eyes are always watching, but they aren’t waiting for attack. As the storm rolls in every night, Billy feels more like himself.

He feels safe.

“You’ve drawn the skull, Billy. Why haven’t you tried to capture the storm?”

He has.

He did.

Once.

Billy’s eyes flew open and for once, the sun was coming up when they did. It was the closest to a full night’s rest he’d had since his coma. A male nurse greeted him moments later, with breakfast and morning meds… and a police officer watching him from the doorway. Same as always. Coffee. Bagel. Squeezable cream cheese pouch. Styrofoam cup of fruit. No utensils, plastic or otherwise. Nothing that can be turned into a weapon. No salt or pepper at dinner, lest he get the idea to throw it in an officer’s eyes and disarm them. Again.

He had a short window before she came to talk to him and with his mouth full of a cold, chewy bagel, Billy pulled his journal from the wheely tray. He was only allowed one pencil and had to request a new one when it got too dull to write with so someone else could sharpen it to a slightly less dull point. He wore the pencil tip down to nothing, circling and circling like the cyclone in his mind did every night. Billy only stopped when the ragged wood edge finally tore through the paper. Right in the middle. An eye for the storm he hadn’t meant to add. And it hit him.

Billy held out his left arm, staring through his pale skin and into the black ink that swirled and circled over his veins. Like a cyclone.

A storm.

He was no artist, but he knew what he’d drawn, what he’d seen in his dreams. Without hesitating, Billy smudged the pencil drawing with the meaty side of his fist until the page was shiny charcoal grey and no discernible shape. He tore it out of his journal and ripped it in half. Then again. And again before taking the confetti bits and flushing them away. Familiar heels clicked in the room to his right as Billy scrubbed his hands clean of graphite stains and wiped them dry on his sweatpants before stepping back out into the room.

“How did you sleep, Billy?”

The doctor wasn't blind. She knew he had a mark and whenever she asked about it, Billy's insides wrung themselves into tight knots. He didn't know anything about the mark, but for once in months of recovery, he thought he might have new information. But it wasn't for her. It was his mark. On his body. In his dreams. The doctor didn't get to know anything before he did when she had a whole file about his life that Billy wasn't allowed to ask about. This... person, this soul... it was his. Only his.

That night, Billy Russo didn’t fight sleep. He waited. He waded through the terrifying images of sharp edges, searing pain, the tink of bullet cases hitting the hard ground. He waited for the long, dark wisps to creep into his vision and when they did, he did not run. He didn’t run or hide like he would as a child when something was chasing him. Billy walked up to the storm, saw his own pale hand reach out into the black. For the first time, he wasn’t alone. There was someone else in the storm, waiting for him to reach them. Unmoving, but unflinching. Not dragging him nearer, but not running away. If he kept moving forward, this person would show their face.

Now he knew he wasn’t alone.

taglist:

@odetostep @something-tofightfor @the-blind-assassin-12 @gollyderek @actuallyazriel @suchatinyinfinity @fific7 @thesumofmychoices @operation-spot @charmed-asylum @bugboy-and-icegirl @thefinalexperiment @christinawxxx @commanderlola @littlemermaidprobz @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @thetallassgirl @blackbirddaredevil23 @stories-you-wont-hear @pheedraws @malionnes @beautifuldesastre @elanor-of-imladris @disengagefrmreality

As always, yall are the best and if you ever want to be removed (or added) please let me know! make good choices.

#let it burn #kryptos #billy russo fanfiction #billy russo x you #billy pov #billy russo x reader #billy russo soulmate au #the punisher fic #billy russo #jigsaw!billy #TBI billy is my favorite billy to write #I just wanna give him a hug #but he'd definitely stab me for it

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pondermoniums · 4 years

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Established relationship au:

Billy gets into college, and in the words of Trixie Mattel: “Gay people flip out when they meet someone they like and they move in together,” or in my version: If you’re not moving in way too soon with your boyfriend to avoid the Straights, are you even living the full gay experience?

So Steve moves off to college with him, and sure, they have their initial living together issues. Steve just can’t do cereal for breakfast every. single. morning. And Billy is truly over Steve’s high maintenance collection of air-dry, delicate cycle laundry by the end of their first month together.

But only Steve can do Billy’s hair the way he likes it when he has a god-forsaken 8am class, and he’s dozing while sitting on the toilet for Steve to do his hair. It’s only a scissor trim to his ends and man-bun, but that curl in front of his forehead is *chef’s kiss. And both boys are sworn on a kick to the balls that nobody gets to know that Steve colors in Billy’s brows with a tiny bit of makeup. Just to really make that slash in his right brow pop. At least until they really settle in and have a circle of gender-fluid (or punk) friends who demand to know the products the boys use.

But Billy uses all of his guest meal tickets for Steve and they both steal from the dessert table in the dining hall like they’re smuggling whiskey to a speakeasy. They do establish a big friend group, and of course they’re both invited to college parties, both in off campus housing and in the fraternity buildings.

Billy. And his roommate, Steve.

That is, until Steve’s standing with a pair of girls, tequila sunrise in hand, while they try and get the scoop on Billy Hargrove.

“I love the versatility of his facial hair. I don’t care for the stache, but tomorrow if he has a full scruff, and I’ll gag.”

Steve laughed and shook his head. “I don’t control that.”

“No, no, it’s the contrast between all the lights and darks. Those bright eyes and dark brows--”

“So I’m boring as mud,” Steve sassed.

They both erupted in laughter and consolations. “No! I’m just saying, Billy’s dreamy. In like an editorial, Hollywood, I though that was fake, kind of way.”

“Steve, be honest. What’s he like in the morning?”

He gave it some thought while the three of them gazed across the party at the man participating in beer pong. “He smells like frosted flakes and looks like a bunny fluffed up with a hair dryer.”

One of the girls spat vodka and both hollered so loud that Billy looked up in curiosity. He found Steve laughing and smiled, his blue eyes sparkling like topazes from alcohol and witnessing Steve’s blushed cheeks.

Then Billy crooks his finger, and Steve comes right over. “What are you talking about?”

“You.” Steve pushes his knee against Billy’s leg.

“Yeah?” Billy anchored his fingers in the belt loop on the back of Steve’s jeans.

“The girls are calling you ‘dreamy.’“

“What are you calling me?”

“Fluffy.”

The charm faltered on Billy’s face. “Excuse me?”

The girls on the other side of the party just stand still with their jaws on the floor.

• • • • •

During an occasion when Steve picks Billy up from class, it’s a new semester and Billy’s hitting it off with some of his classmates. It’s an afternoon class, so the winter daylight savings is already casting them all in golden oranges as they talk about dinner plans. They don’t know Steve yet, but the lanky guy with glossy hair that flutters in the breeze and sways with his long strides is hard to miss.

Billy hears someone whistle under their breath. “Where does he hide? The Sciences?”

Another girl laughed. “Biology or chemistry?”

“Who cares? I’ll wear a lab coat over lingerie. Just sign me up.”

They’re standing outside the Language building when Steve walks up and meets Billy’s expectant - and blatantly appraising - gaze with a smile and a bottle of water. “You tired from flexing your brain?”

Billy’s smirk cracks into his special, nose wrinkled, laughing smile. He feels the warmth of the bottle in his palm and holds it up to see the lemon slices drifting in it. “Yeah. It’s a real debate, Spanish or Chinese for dinner.”

He drinks and tastes honey and lemon while the heat infuses his throat, cold and raw from the winter air. “Mm...this is good. Thanks.”

“Sure. Do you mean the new place that opened up on Main Street?” Steve’s body twisted to and fro, like he was bashfully divulging a secret. “There might be a tall order of tapas waiting at home, getting lonely with that fancy tequila you like.”

Billy’s expression brightened. He stood a little straighter, his classmates forgotten and dumbfounded as they watched the boys stroll down the brick-lain path. “You didn’t get any with pork, right?”

“No, I know your stomach. I got a big box of rice too. I ate half of it waiting for you.”

“Thanks for restraining yourself. Hey, for no reason at all: biology or chemistry?”

Steve glanced at him before tilting his head with a shrug. “I took chemistry twice, and the hallway always reeked when the biology class had to cut up dead things.”

“Yeah, I’d peg you more as a psychology guy,” Billy agreed.

“Me?” Steve teased by making his step cross into Billy’s way, bumping their bodies together. “You’re not talking about whatever science credit you need?”

“No, but I would find it hilarious to know what the brain is doing when it finds out the prettiest boy on campus is taken.”

#ficlet #head canon #harringrove #pondermoniums #established relationship #college au #billy x steve #billy hargrove #steve harrington #this will probably go on ao3 tomorrow haha

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hargrove-mayfields · 3 years

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Harringrove April Day 21- Fire

tw implied sexual assault / tw past child abuse

Billy is afraid of fire. He’s unashamed to admit it, that little kick in his heart every time he lights up a cigarette, checking that it’s extinguished completely in the ash tray and won’t catch anything, or the anxiety that hits when they start using the fireplace every winter.

He doesn’t get what’s so nice about it that people want it in their homes, the smoke that clings to your hair and your clothes, the heat that makes you feel hot and itchy underneath your skin. The way that the burning light digs into the recesses of his mind and brings forward terrible memories.

The first time his dad ever put out a cigarette on his wrist, held a lighter to delicate skin to see how long it would take before he pulled away, or pressed his small hand against the stove burner as punishment, Billy was only seven years old.

After his mom left when he was eleven, Neil burned all of his mother’s things, pictures, clothes, documents, and dragged him outside kicking and screaming to watch the destruction of every last memory he held of his mother, forcing him to stay with a heavy boot on his back.

At fourteen, he went to a bonfire party on a beach a few towns over. The invite came from some older kids who made him drink way too much, the burn of the fire was felt too in his first time drinking whiskey, among other things that happened that night that never should have.

Just last year, a monster in control of his own body made him burn, the sun, the sauna, the Camaro in flames, a constant searing pain like heat tearing through muscle under his skin.

He knows Max means well when she invites him along to one of the get togethers they do every few months or so when Mrs. Byers and her kids drop back in for a visit, this one hosted in Claudia Henderson’s backyard, and being just a couple of months out of the hospital, it doesn’t seem like so bad an idea to reintroduce himself into social situations that way.

But it’s the summer time again, and hicks like to burn things in the summer. He doesn’t even know who suggests it, just that they’re moving lawn chairs around a fire pit he’d been deliberately avoiding, and that with the first coil of smoke from a match tossed into a pile of dryer lint and cardboard boxes, he already feels himself starting to panic.

There’s nothing he can do but just stand and watch the flames, ignoring the horrible burning in his already weak lungs, the unpleasant heat from standing too close, all of those sensories that take him right back to those places.

Max doesn’t notice anything’s wrong until there’s tears on his cheeks, and she might be the same clueless kid she always was, but she genuinely seems to want to help him these days. She tells him to go inside, that Mrs. Henderson won’t mind it if he needs to calm down in her living room, and really, he doesn’t have it in him to fight it or see any reason to.

But when he steps into the house, instantly overwhelmed by how stuffy and cluttered it is in the tiny one story, he’s not the only one avoiding the party, because laying on the floor all cuddled up to Tews is Steve.

Billy snorts, asks him, “What are you doing in here?”

“Strong smells give me headaches.” Steve answers simply, still paying most of his attention to the all sprawled out on the floor beside him, but apparently noticing how wigged out Billy looks, because he asks him, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. ‘M fine.” Billy dismisses him, but it’s apparently not convincing enough, because Steve is asking, “You sure? You’re looking a little.. rough.”

Billy rolls his eyes, “Thanks.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know you didn’t.”

Things feel awkward, in the months since they’d seen each other, they’re definitely not as close as they used to be. Steve must feel it too, the tension between them, because he’s saying, “Listen, you can talk to me, Billy. I mean, I know we haven’t been as close after everything that happened, but you’re still my friend.”

And that, that little declaration is jarring to Billy, because a friend wouldn’t almost get fired for missing too much work just to come see him in the hospital, or promise to always be by his side, and friends sure as all hell don’t kiss friends knuckles while they’re in a coma. “Do you really still see me as a friend?”

“Of course I do. You’re my very best friend.” Steve assures, missing the point enough that Billy feels the need to clarify, “Even after everything that was said and done?”

“I’ve told you before, what happened wasn’t your fault.”

“Wait a second pretty boy, I think we’re talking about two different things.”

“Oh.” A look of realization crosses his face after a moment of thinking, and he says, looking a bit flustered, “ Oh . I-I didn’t know you were awake for all of that.”

“I wasn’t, Max is just a little snitch.” He adds, just to make sure they were finally on the same page, “You know I’ve been waitin’ for you to make your move?”

“Is it too late to do it now?”

“Not if you do it right.”

Steve kisses him, far more gentle and sweet than he thought anything like that could be, which is to say, definitely the right way, and it feels like the smoke clears from his lungs.

Feels like the flame that was eating away at him, slowly destroying his foundations and waiting for the day he crumbled had been smothered, and from within the ashes came the gentle glow of passion, and love, and everything that he needed most.

Those memories couldn’t be controlled, but much like the fire, they could be put out, and Billy, well he could finally be unafraid.

#harringrove #harringroveapril #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #ej writer #story by ej!#the trigger warnings are very very brief I just figure it’s better safe than sorry you know

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paperbodiesamongthestars · 4 years

Text

A beautiful day for a neighbor

The first time Billy met his new neighbor, he was leaving his apartment to go to work. It was early morning, before seven, and he was enjoying the quiet of the building. Billy opened the door, keys in one hand and travel mug in the other, and looked down to find the right key when suddenly there was a hand on his chest. It pushed him backwards, firmly enough to guide him back into his apartment. He heard the door to the apartment close.

Billy dropped his keys, bracing himself, prepared to throw a punch before he registered that the hand still on his chest was gentle, and the two fingers over his lips were tentative. He glanced up into a pair of big, dark eyes and promptly forgot how to breathe. After what felt like ages, but was probably closer to a few seconds, Billy registered that those eyes were wide and pleading, and the guy attached to them was beautiful. He had a full head of wild dark hair and pale skin dotted with moles. He was lean but well-muscled. Billy relaxed a little bit. He was a lot less upset about this situation than he had been just moments ago.

The guy winced when a male voice said "Steve?" outside the door. Billy cocked an eyebrow in a silent question and the guy--Steve, apparently--nodded. He had the grace to look embarrassed. Whoever it was in the hallway knocked on the door across the hall, and Steve let out a tiny sigh of relief.

"Steve, I saw you on the stairs. I know you're in there," said the voice. There was a long silence followed by more knocking, and then an exasperated sigh. "Fine, I'll just leave these here. But please call me back. I want to fix this. I miss you, baby." Billy saw a flash of anger on Steve's face before he caught Billy's eye and looked embarrassed again. There was a sound of footsteps receding down the hallway and then the stairs, but Steve stayed where he was for another thirty seconds after the steps were gone. Then he dropped his hands to his sides, straightened up against Billy's door, and shot him a bright, beautiful smile.

"Hi! I'm so sorry, and thank you." He paused and then held out his hand. "I'm Steve Harrington. I'm your new neighbor." Billy took a step back to give him some room and held out his own hand.

"Billy Hargrove," he said. Steve seemed to take in his suit and travel mug. "Oh no," he said, face falling. "I hope I didn't make you late for work." Billy waved him off. He worked all the time--it wasn't like they cared what time he came in.

"Not at all," he said. Steve smiled, smaller this time. He was twisting his fingers together.

"I promise I don't make a habit of assaulting my neighbors. I just have this ex who is, um..." He didn't seem to know how to continue.

"Not taking the breakup well?" Billy offered.

"Yeah," Steve said. There was a pause. "Well, I should let you get to work." He opened the door behind him and turned to go with a dorky little wave. "Thanks again," he said as he crossed the landing, staring at the huge bouquet of flowers next to his welcome mat. "And hey, come by sometime. I'll make you dinner. I kind of owe you, and I'm a good cook." He shot one more brilliant smile Billy's way and then disappeared into his own apartment. Billy stared after him for several long beats before he shook his head to clear it, gathered up his stuff, and left for work.

The second time Billy saw Steve was a couple of weeks later. That wasn't unusual--Billy didn't spend a lot of time at home. He worked a lot. Too much, if you asked Max (which he never had, thanks, but she was happy to share anyway). According to her, Billy was avoiding his crippling loneliness by only ever being at the office. According to Billy, she should shut the fuck up about it and stop trying to psychoanalyze him. But fine, maybe she wasn't entirely off-base. Being alone in his nice but empty apartment wasn't exactly his idea of a good time. So he stayed at the office. A lot.

At the moment, he was on his way home from work. It was a Friday night and he was very much looking forward to flopping onto his couch and drinking one of the nice bottles of wine he had picked up from the wine store on his way home. He rounded the corner and saw his new neighbor standing in front of the building, arms crossed in front of him, looking deeply uncomfortable. A guy was facing him, his back to Billy, gesturing wildly as he talked to Steve. Well, yelled at Steve. The guy took a step forward and Steve gave a barely perceptible flinch, but stood his ground. Billy made a decision as he got closer.

"We can figure this out, baby. You just have to stop being so fucking stubborn," the guy was saying as Billy got close enough to hear. Steve looked murderous at that.

"Oh, we definitely can't," he said, and then stopped as he finally registered Billy's approach. He snapped his mouth shut. Billy grinned at him and shifted his bag from the wine store to his other hand. He threw an arm around Steve's shoulders, ignoring the guy across from him, who was staring.

"I believe you promised me dinner, pretty boy." He held up the bag in his other hand. "I brought wine." Steve stared at him for a long beat and then a small smile broke out on his face. He looked at the man across from him.

"We'll have to finish this another time, Todd. Or preferably, never." He turned and walked into the building, Billy on his heels. Billy glanced back once to see Todd staring after them, brows furrowed. He couldn't help himself--Billy winked at him as the door closed, and then followed Steve up the stairs.

He fully expected Steve to thank him and then disappear, so he was surprised when Steve beckoned him into his apartment.

"Oh hey, you don't actually have to make me dinner," Billy said as Steve dropped his stuff in the entryway and headed for the kitchen.

"Nonsense," Steve said. "Now I owe you for two things. One dinner is the least I can do. Let's see what you have for wine and we can go from there." He paused and flushed a little. "Unless you have other plans. You probably do! What am I thinking, it's Friday night. You probably--" Billy cut him off.

"I don't have plans," he said simply. Steve smiled a little.

"Ok," he said. He held out his hand and Billy handed over the bag from the wine store. Steve pulled out bottles and hummed thoughtfully.

"I mean, I did have plans, but they consisted of sitting on my couch and drinking wine by myself, so. This is better," Billy said. What the fuck was he saying? Steve was going to think he was pathetic. But Steve didn't really seem to be paying attention. He was leaning into the fridge, pulling out garlic and a block of parmesan.

"How do you feel about mushrooms?" Steve asked, frowning a little.

"I feel good about mushrooms," Billy replied, a little tentatively. He felt off-balance, which was irritating. Sure, Steve was hot as hell, but Billy was usually good at this. He wasn't sure why he was so fucking awkward at the moment. Fortunately, Steve still didn't seem to have noticed. He took one more look at the bottles of wine in front of him and then nodded once, decisively, and slid a bottle of Chardonnay across the counter toward Billy. He moved around the kitchen, finding a wine opener and two glasses.

"This one. And pasta with mushroom cream sauce." Billy's eyebrows went up. Apparently Steve had not lied about being able to cook.

"Sounds great, pretty boy," he said, and then he opened the wine and poured two glasses. He relaxed quickly once the wine started flowing; it turned out that talking to Steve was surprisingly easy. Billy didn't stumble back across the landing to his own apartment until well after midnight. He was full of delicious pasta and good wine, and he hadn't laughed that much in a long time. He fell asleep with a smile on his face.

The third time Billy saw Steve, he was at the gym. He had been avoiding it for a while after things went sideways with Curtis, but he couldn't stay away forever. He went straight there from work, and the first thing he saw when he stepped out of the locker room was Steve doing a weight circuit. He smiled a little to himself at the sight. Steve apparently worked out in an old t-shirt and a truly tiny pair of shorts that Billy loved immediately. The smile dropped right off his face, though, when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

"I was wondering when you'd be back." He turned to find Curtis behind him, hands on his hips, glaring.

"I'm just here to work out," Billy said. He slipped his headphones on and walked away before Curtis could start talking again. Sure, Billy had never been the best at ending things gently, but it wasn't like they'd been dating. They had just hooked up a few times. Billy hadn't felt like he owed the guy a long explanation, or any explanation at all, really, but apparently Curtis had expected one. Billy tried not to think about it as he set up the weights, preferring to sneak glances at Steve instead. By the time he was done with his workout, he was drenched in sweat and feeling calmer. That feeling lasted right up until he was walking out of the gym. Curtis was waiting at the front counter, and stopped him before he could make it to the door.

"Can we at least talk about it?" Curtis asked, clearly irritated.

"What is there to talk about?" Billy asked, shifting his gym bag on his shoulder. He just wanted to go home and take a shower. He did not want to have this conversation.

"You can't just ghost me and then act surprised when I want to talk about it," Curtis said. Billy wasn't surprised. He was tired. And this conversation was stupid. He sighed.

"I don't know what you want me to say. We were hooking up and now we're not."

"Well, we could have talked before you just decided to bail," Curtis said sarcastically.

"Hey man," a voice said from behind Billy. Billy turned and found Steve, all sweaty, still in his tiny gym shorts, looking at him with a question in his eyes. He must have seen some kind of answer on Billy's face because he looked at his watch and then back at Billy. "If we're still planning to pick up beers before the game starts, we should get a move on, right?" Billy just stared for a moment before he caught on. He felt a surge of gratitude.

"Definitely," he said, smile going wide. He turned back to Curtis, who was glaring at Steve. "Sorry man, gotta go. I'll see you around." Curtis looked at him and sneered.

"You're such a fucking coward," he said. Billy's smile went a little sharp. He suppressed the urge to take a swing at Curtis and took a deep breath instead, just like his therapist had taught him.

"Then I guess it's a good thing we're not hanging out anymore, huh?" he said, and then he followed Steve out the door. Steve smiled at Billy as he fell into step beside him on the sidewalk outside.

"I don't even know what game we're supposedly watching," Steve admitted. Billy laughed.

"There's definitely football on tonight. But what if there hadn't been?" he asked. Steve rolled his eyes.

"If you're a committed enough sports fan, there's always some kind of game on. Besides, I took a chance that your friend either wouldn't know or wouldn't call me on it." Billy grimaced.

"Not a friend. Ex, I guess? Kind of?" Steve glanced over, but didn't say anything. Billy continued, a little surprised at himself. "We weren't actually dating. We just hooked up a few times." He sighed. "I don't know why he's making such a big deal about it." Steve bumped his shoulder into Billy's.

"He probably wanted to be dating you," Steve said casually, and then he grinned. "Hey, maybe we should introduce our exes to each other," he said, eyes sparkling. "He and Todd could probably make a real go of it." Billy's eyes went wide.

"Oh, that's genius," he said, laughing. They stopped at the liquor store and picked up some beers, for the sake of verisimilitude and because Steve was out. Steve paused outside his apartment door when they finally made it back.

"Do you...actually want to come over? We don't have to watch football, but I could throw something together for dinner." He wouldn't quite meet Billy's eyes, like he was nervous. Billy felt something light bubbling up in his chest.

"Yeah, sounds good. Let me get cleaned up. I'll come by in about twenty minutes?" Steve nodded.

"I'll leave it unlocked," he said. Billy headed for his own door and then turned back around.

"Hey, thanks for the rescue," he said. "I'd offer to cook you dinner, but I am much better at calling for takeout than I am at cooking." Steve grinned at him. "You can call for takeout next time," he said, and then disappeared into his apartment. Next time. Billy liked the sound of that.

Over the next several weeks, Billy stopped counting the number of times he saw Steve. Or, more accurately, he lost count somewhere between the time they ran into each other at the grocery store a couple of days after the gym and ended up going back to Billy's apartment for beers and takeout, and the time Steve woke him up at seven on a Saturday morning to go get the best produce at the farmer's market. Billy found himself coming home from work earlier and bringing less work home on the weekends. Steve invited him over for dinner a few times a week, claiming that cooking for one was impossible and Billy was actually doing Steve a favor. They went to the gym together more often than not now, and while Curtis still glared at both of them when he saw them, he left Billy alone.

Todd was harder to get rid of. He continued to hang around, showing up at Steve's door at random intervals, dropping off gifts and alternating between begging Steve to take him back and yelling at him. One Saturday night, Billy and Steve were out at a bar with some of Steve's friends when Billy spotted Todd across the room. He was closing in on Steve. Billy rolled his eyes. He was so fucking sick of this, and he chose not to spend any time at all thinking about why he was taking Todd's actions so personally. Billy slid out of the booth where Heather and Robin and Nancy and Jonathan were chatting and made his way over to the bar where Steve was ordering another round.

Todd had just reached out for Steve's arm when Billy arrived. Billy slid an arm around Steve's waist from behind and hooked his chin over Steve's shoulder. Steve stiffened up initially, but Billy was pleased to note that he relaxed as soon as he saw whose hands were on him. He seemed to pick up on what Billy was doing immediately and relaxed back into him, his hand coming to cover Billy's where it was pressed to his stomach.

"What's up, B?" Steve murmured over his shoulder. Billy grinned, sharp, eyes on Todd. Todd was staring at their interlaced fingers, seemingly unable to look away.

"I got tired of waiting for you to come back, baby," Billy murmured into Steve's neck. He pressed a kiss to the side of Steve's throat for good measure and was delighted when his ears went a little pink.

"Aw, sweetheart," Steve said, tilting his head over to give Billy more access. Hearing a pet name directed at him in Steve Harrington's voice was doing things to Billy. With an effort, he kept his eyes on Todd instead of licking up Steve's throat and nipping at his jaw the way he suddenly wanted to. Todd had gone a concerning shade of red, and his jaw was tight.

"You could have just said that you had moved on," he snapped at Steve, and then he looked at Billy. "I hope you know you're just a rebound," he hissed before he turned and stalked away, shoving his way through the crowd.

"Bye, Todd," Billy called after him as Steve huffed a laugh next to his ear. Reluctantly, Billy stepped back from Steve. He was probably imagining the way Steve held onto his hand for a second before letting go. Steve turned to look at him, smile wide.

"That was probably mean," he said. Billy scoffed.

"You've told him to fuck off a bunch of times, Steve. The fact that he refuses to hear it when you say the word no is on him." Steve stared at him for a long moment, expression unreadable. He started to say something, but their drinks arrived and they made their way back to the table. No one seemed to have noticed that anything had happened, except that Billy kept catching Robin watching him thoughtfully. Every time his eyes met hers, she grinned at him, like she knew something he didn't. Billy tried to ignore her. He and Steve didn't talk about it on the walk back home, and Billy tried to ignore the surge of disappointment he felt when Steve just smiled and said goodnight and closed his door.

He didn't see Steve again for a couple of weeks. Work got busy and he found himself back in a pattern of leaving for work early and coming home late. A few times he came home to a small stack of tupperware containers outside his door. He smiled, feeling something warm in his chest at Steve's continued insistence that he eat something other than takeout. He washed the containers and left them outside Steve's door, but he didn't see the man himself until late on a Friday night.

Billy had spent most of the day in court, where his preparation had paid off. The rest of the team took him out for drinks after work to celebrate his win, so he was exhausted and a little tipsy as he fumbled for his keys. Someone reached past him with their own keys to unlock the door to the building. He turned to find Steve smiling at him.

"Thanks," Billy said, and he knew he was staring but he couldn't stop. Steve looked fucking edible, all flushed and sweaty with messy hair and his stupid tiny running shorts on. His shirt was tucked into the back of his shorts. All of it felt like a personal attack on Billy's composure. He suppressed the urge to push Steve up against the wall and run his hands over every inch of that pale skin right then and there, but it took some effort.

"Late night run?" Billy asked, when he belatedly realized that he should probably stop staring and say something. Steve smiled ruefully.

"Yep. For some reason I continue to believe that if I run enough, I will eventually be able to go to sleep," Steve said. "Are you just getting home from work?"

"Yeah," Billy admitted. "Well, yes and no. I won in court today, so we went out for drinks." Steve looked impressed.

"Congrats," he said. "If you're in the mood for one more, I'd be happy to drink to your success." He smiled at Billy. "Hey, are you hungry?" Billy was, actually. There had maybe been appetizers at the bar, but he hadn't eaten any of them.

"Yeah, but I was just going to..." Billy trailed off and Steve smirked at him.

"You certainly don't have to come over," he said. "It's late and you're probably tired, but I am willing to bet you a hundred dollars that you have six things in your fridge, five of them are condiments, and one of them is beer." Billy thought about it for a minute. Steve was probably right, but Billy also hadn't seen him for too long. He wasn't going to turn down a chance to hang out.

"Well damn," he said. "I guess we've got a hundred bucks riding on whether or not pickles are a condiment." Steve narrowed his eyes.

"Spears or slices?"

"Slices," Billy admitted.

"Mm, those are made for burgers, so I'm going to have to rule them a condiment. Just give me a minute to rinse off and then come over. I have leftover soup. And good bread," Steve added as Billy got his mail and they headed for the stairs. Billy smiled. A late dinner with Steve sounded amazing right now. Better than sleep, even.

"I can bring wine," he offered. He was pretty sure he still had a few nice bottles of red left.

"Perfect," Steve said over his shoulder as he disappeared into his apartment. Billy tried to suppress his big dumb smile while he changed into sweats and grabbed a bottle of wine. He also checked his hair and reapplied deodorant. After some thought, he slapped on a tiny bit of cologne.

Steve had left the door cracked, so Billy let himself in, closing the door behind him. There was music on in the background and the apartment smelled amazing, like spices and fresh bread. Steve appeared from the hallway in sweats and a t-shirt, toweling off his hair.

"Hey," he said. "You made it." He sounded pleased, like there was actually a chance Billy wasn't going to show up. Steve crossed the apartment and Billy followed him into the kitchen, setting down the bottle of wine on the counter. Steve dropped his towel over the back of a chair and tried to tame his hair with his hands. He was flushed from the shower and his hair was damp and messy and he was so beautiful Billy could hardly stand it.

"I hope you like--" Steve started to say, and before he had a chance to think too hard about it Billy was moving into his space, backing him up against the counter. Steve's eyes were wide on Billy's face. Billy moved slowly as he leaned in, giving Steve time to pull back if he wanted to. Instead, Steve met him halfway, leaning in and pressing his lips to Billy's. Steve was warm and he tasted good and he somehow smelled like home. Billy slid one hand to Steve's low back, pulling him closer, and buried the other in Steve's still-damp hair. Steve made a noise in the back of his throat, and his hands came up to frame Billy's face as he deepened the kiss. Billy would have stayed there forever, but they did eventually have to come up for air. There was a moment of silence.

"You hope I like what?" Billy finally asked with a smile, his forehead pressed against Steve's, breathing in his air.

"You know," Steve said, a little breathless, thumbs moving over Billy's cheekbones, "I forgot what I was going to say? Something about dinner."

"I'm afraid that right this second, I really don't give a fuck about dinner," Billy said, leaning back in to kiss Steve again. Steve kissed him back, hard, and then pulled away for a moment.

"Fortunately," he said, "I am also excellent at making breakfast."

And he really was.

#harringroveweekoflove #my writing #hello it has been a long-ass time since I actually wrote anything #but here we are!#yay!#steve harrington #billy hargrove

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 4 years

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The Perfect Bad Boy (Pt. 10 of 18)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Word count: 2.7K

Summary: Working as a lifeguard in the Hawkins Community Pool, you try to fit in after moving from New York. Things were going pretty well when you notice you've been under someone's stare. Billy Hargrove, Hawkins' bad boy, has been staring at you since day one. You never intended to have anything to do with him, judging by the reputation he has. But Billy won't leave you alone, determined to show you his feelings are different this time...

As if your heart flooding you with confusing feelings wasn't enough, there are weird, strange animals lurking in the woods... But those have to be just part of the wild live of the woods surrounding Hawkins... Right?

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{Stranger Things Masterlist}

Monsters Lurking In The Dark

Yesterday's happenings are making a lot of people talk to you today. They ask if you're alright, if you had to go to the hospital, why Billy ran like a lightning bolt to reach you... Some of them are actually being kind. Others, not so much. It feels like they're trying to get you to say something else, scavenging for a secret. Jason is the only one to actually get into a long conversation, making sure you're alright and giving you tips to avoid heat exhaustion again. But the others, mostly the girls, make awkward questions. You get that Billy's behavior is changing. Monica is often telling you about how some girls ask her if she knows what's going on between you and Billy. She never answers though, saying this isn't their business.

As you pace around the pool, a bottle of water on your hand since Billy is literally forcing you to drink water by the hour, you spot him chatting with some of his friends. Tommy and Carol are the only ones you can name, and you never got why you only hang out with your friends and not his. Billy has his eyes on the pools and the whistle between his lips. Tommy goes on about something, and suddenly, Billy lets the whistle fall, giving Tommy a weird stare. You giggle a little at his expression, crossing your arms.

“Look who's staring now,” Monica says in a provoking tone, stopping by your side. “But I totally get it. I'd be shamelessly staring too if I didn't have my sweetheart.”

“How's Christopher by the way?” She told you he had an accident in the garden, which got him a nasty cut on the leg.

“Complaining. But I'm enjoying taking care of him.” She smiles, and her eyes shine. Every passing day you're more convinced they're in love with each other. That you'll be attempting to their wedding one day. “What about you? You gotta be careful with the sun.”

“I am.” Raising your hand, you show her the bottle. “Billy is driving me insane. I swear I can't drink any more water today.”

“Can you blame him? I thought he'd have a heart attack yesterday.” He tilts her head to where he is, across the pools. His eyes meet yours and he winks. “Poor guy, he has it bad for you.”

Giggling, you look down because you're surely blushing. “Oh, tell me something. Some people came to talk to me, you know. Asking if I was alright. But some of them made some very awkward questions.”

“Yeah, that's because they think you're pregnant.”

Your eyes go wide, and you gasp, feeling your whole body numb for a moment. “What the hell,” you exclaim, a little too loud. Looking around, you notice some eyes on you. “Holy shit, Monica. Tell me you're joking.”

“Small town, (Y/N), people talk.” She puts a hand on your shoulder. “Trust me, half the women here went through something like that. They'll let go in a few weeks.”

“Do you think Billy knows?” You lift your eyes to look for him, but you only find his friends.

“Probably. But look, don't worry about it. You're the new girl who managed to hook Billy Hargrove, the town's bad boy. People will talk, but don't let it ruin what you have with him.”

“No, of course not.” As much as it bugs you, it doesn't change anything. “You know I'm falling for him, right?” You burst out, feeling the sudden need to let it out your chest. “Completely.”

“I'm noticing. You–”

She's cut short when you're pulled into something. Someone. You roll your eyes because you know who it is. Billy pulls you against his chest, his lips on your ear. “Do you know what they're saying about yesterday's episode?” He whispers, a hand coming to caress your belly.

Great. Now this will certainly make people forget this story. “Yeah. They think I'm carrying a tiny Billy.” You mutter, waving at Monica as she walks away with a smirk on her lips. “Was that what Tommy told you? You made a funny face.”

“Yes, but he said it in a way that almost had me breaking his ugly nose.” He keeps you close, despite the public. And honestly, you don't mind. A few days ago you'd push him away, but now... They'll speak anyway, so it doesn't matter.

“Hey, why don't we never hang out with your friends?” You take the chance to ask. “You don't want them to see you with me?” It's impossible not to follow this train of thought, and it does sound stupid judging by the way he's holding you right now, for everyone to see.

“Of course not. It just that I know the kind of assholes they are and I'm sure you won't like them.”

“But it's weird. I don't want you to think I'm forcing you to only hang out with my party.”

He takes a deep breath, and you feel his chest moving. That reminds you he's shirtless... “I'll introduce you to them... In the funfair tomorrow.”

“Oh my God, the funfair!” You exclaim. People have been talking about it for a few days, but you totally forgot. “I've never been to anything like that.”

“You're gonna love it.”

“You two. Back to your chairs.” The manager shouts from somewhere behind you, and you both roll your eyes at the same time.

“Talk to you later,” you tell him, tiptoeing to kiss his cheek.

“Remember to–”

“Yeah, yeah. Water, stay in the shadow. If I feel dizzy I'll shout for my knight in shining armor.” Walking backwards, you smirk at him. “Eyes on the pool, Hargrove,” you warn him, turning around and making your way back to the chair.

You're glad you're feeling good, no sign of anything you felt yesterday. And it isn't as hot as it was, so that's a bonus. You're peacefully watching the kids, yelling at some, threatening some teenagers to ban them for life, just the normal stuff. Through the corner of your eye, you notice Billy gesturing. When you look at him, he shows you his bottle.

Shaking your head no, you try to ignore him. But you are a little thirsty, so you sigh before jumping to the ground. On your way to the cafeteria, you stop by his chair. “Want some?”

“Nah, I'm good.”

“Don't act like you can't be beaten by heat exhaustion too, Hargrove. I'm bringing you some cold water.” Punching his leg playfully, you go to the cafeteria.

You're a little startled to find James in there, seated on the table next to the wall, both hands on his head. As you silently open the fridge, you wonder if you should just leave him alone. You never really spoke, and since he switched his schedule with Billy, you have seen less of him. Today should be his day off if you're not mistaken.

“Hey, James,” you say in a soft voice, standing by the fridge as you take one of the bottles Billy has for you. “You ok?”

“Huh?” He looks up abruptly, suddenly aware he's not alone. “Hey.”

You were going to leave, but he seems scared... Red eyes as if he didn't get any sleep. “Is something wrong?” You sit before him, placing the bottle on the table. “You look... sad.”

“Oh, it's just... Nothing, really. It's stupid.” He's mumbling under his breath, a line of sweat on his forehead.

“Whatever it is it's not stupid. Who told you it was?”

“My parents, my brother.” He breathes out, his eyes suddenly meeting yours. “You're new here, right? Did you move from a big city?”

“New York. Why?”

“I'm from Washinton. Have you ever crossed paths with something in the woods? Some... Some kind of animal? And when you told someone they just said it was because you're some big city kid who's not used to live so near the forest and because of that you're easily impressed by anything weird you see?” James speaks fast, so fast it's hard to keep up.

“Actually yes.” You nod, keeping your voice low and soft in an attempt to calm him down. You never saw anyone so scared. “A few weeks ago I saw something, but I didn't get a good look at it. Don't know what it was.”

“I don't know what species of-of... Things they have here, but what I saw... I couldn't sleep. I thought about telling the chief of police but everyone keeps saying I'm crazy.”

“What did you see, James?”

He puts his hands on his head again, looking at the table. “It... It was the size of a dog. And I thought it was a stray dog so I stopped the car and followed it.” His voice cracks, so you get up, moving to sit on the chair beside him, touching his arm. “It was so damn dark and I had no flashlight. It was near a tree, eating something. I started calling it, trying to show it I was just trying to help but then... It-It turned at me and... Shit, the damn thing had no face. It was blank. Sticky... no fur, no eyes, nothing.” He moves suddenly, holding both your shoulders roughly. You gasp at the sudden change, looking at him, tears threatening to roll down from his eyes. “I ran like hell. I told my parents the moment I got home but they said it was something in the woods playing tricks on me but I know what I saw. The damn thing had no face, I swear–”

“Let go of her right now.” Billy's thunder voice makes James jump up, making his chair fall backwards. “What the hell do you think you're doing?”

“Billy, it's alright.” Quickly, you stand up and walk over him.

“I'm sorry, I just...” James tries to speak, hands raised in defeat. It looks like he didn't know what he was doing. “Sorry, (Y/N).”

He walks around the table, eyes on the floor. Billy gives a step towards him, but you hold him back, both hands on his chest. “Billy, no. Listen...” You whisper to him, your eyes meeting his when James finally leaves the cafeteria. “He wasn't trying to hurt me or anything, he was just scared.”

“Scared of what?” He looks down at you, his hands softly rubbing the skin of your shoulders. “It'll leave bruises. What the hell did he think he was doing?”

As much as you melt a little to feel his touch after the sting from James' grip, you have this feeling in your stomach. You can't seem to shake it away, and the more you think, the worse it gets. “Billy... Remember when I told you I saw something in the woods?” He nods, confused. “James saw it too... Same description. He... He said it had no face, and I... I think that's exactly what I saw.”

His expression changes, and you can't read his face. Taking a deep breath, he sits on the table, pulling you to sit beside him. “James came here a few months ago. From a big city too, so it's normal to be scared when–”

“He was desperate because that's exactly what people are telling him.” You cut him off, running a hand through your hair. “Billy, he wasn't scared. He was terrified.” Your voice gets lower, as your mind floats back to what you saw. Naked skin, as if it was green, covered in some disgusting thing... “I know it sounds crazy, but I swear to God his description matched what I saw that day.” It suddenly comes to your mind... There was a lab here. A lab and a bunch of weird stories about it. “Hawkins National Lab!” You exclaim, jumping to your feet. “What if they made an experiment with some kind of animal and now it's free in the woods?”

“Hawkins Lab was closed years ago.”

“I know but–” Billy takes your hand, pulling you close. He holds you by the hips, raising his head to meet your eyes from his seated position.

“Princess, listen. It's true there was a lab, and it's also true that the darkness and these woods play tricks on people who aren't used to them.” He speaks slow, eyes never leaving yours. “It may be something but it could also be a big misunderstanding. If it happens again, if you or anyone else sees anything like that, we'll tell the cops and let them deal with it.”

Taking a deep breath, you decide to let his calming tone relax you. “Alright...” Nodding, you take a look at your shoulders, spotting the purple marks of where James fingers dig into your skin. “The guy was really out of his mind,” you mutter.

“Yeah...” Billy stands up, placing a kiss on both your shoulders before straighten up, his index finger on your chin. “Let's go back there before Anthony notices we're gone again.”

Nodding, you follow him back outside.

• • •

You wish you knew how to draw. If you did, you'd make a scratch of the animal you saw, and another one of what James described, just to see if they would really match.

You're staring at the ceiling, on your unusually empty bed. Having Billy here was amazing. Beyond amazing. Having his strong arms around you, and waking up next to him on the morning was pure bliss. You never thought such a feeling existed. It felt like home, like life was nothing but a long road leading you to that very moment. To his embrace, so warm and calming.

You chose to think about that instead of the unclassified animal. That brings a shiver down your spine, different from the shivers Billy causes. The last ones are made of nervousness, excitement... All those silly things. Tossing around, you sit up, your feet on the cold floor. Your eyes fall on the necklace, that you always keep on the nightstand. Billy kept his promise, and he wears his piece every day. You have to tell him he doesn't have to, not anymore. He already made his point, and you know he has other earrings to use.

Smiling to yourself, you pick the necklace up, fingers caressing the metal. You need to tell Billy what you feel. Openly. You do have something going on, but it's still unnamed. And there's no reason to remain that way. If he wants you, if he truly wants to keep you... He has to know you want him too. That you want to be with him, and screw the rest of the world. Screw the past, the gossip, whatever people of Hawkins think. This is about both of you, nobody else. It's useless to keep pretending Billy Hargrove doesn't own your heart. This torture can't continue, there's no reason to.

Your train of thought is interrupted by the phone's loud ring. You're about to answer when you hear your aunt's footsteps downstairs. It's probably Robert, she was saying something about him calling her today. As she picks up, you put the necklace down and walk over the window, feeling the fresh summer breeze tickling your skin.

“(Y/N)!” Diane shouts, and her urgent tone startles you. “(Y/N)! Pick up the phone!” Her rapid footsteps bring her to your bedroom, a worried expression on her face. “Pick up now. It's Max, she's crying. I don't know–”

The mention of Billy's sister has you moving, picking up the light pink phone you have on the nightstand. “Max?” You breathe out, eyes focused on Diane as she breathes fast.

“(Y/N)..!” Her voice is weak, like a low scream. You hear voices behind her, and you immediately recognize Billy's. But there's someone else, a man's voice. “(Y/N), please, you need to–” She's cut short by something breaking. “It's Neil. He's here, please–”

“Hang up the damn–” Then it's over.

For a moment, a second, you just stand there, frozen, looking at Diane. But on the next one, you're moving, your heart threatening to beat its way out of your chest.

“Honey, what is it?” Diane follows as you rush downstairs, grabbing nothing but the car keys.

“Billy's father. I gotta go.” It's everything you manage to say before storming outside.

A/N: Things are about to get chaotic...

@chloe-skywalker @dpaccione @tilesandtokens @dreamin-of-dacre @funeral-7 @uncookspaget @youhavemyfantasticbeasts @dontxfearxthereaper

#imagine billy hargrove #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x y/n #billy stranger things #stranger things imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #imagine stranger things #stranger things fanfiction

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imlostinsantacarla · 4 years

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@namjooniewifeu99: Thank you , i would like a Jacob x reader where he like you head over heels with Bella but he imprints on the reader and he tries to deny his imprint , or something in those works can it be angst with a fluff ending

(a/n: heya hun! i apologize for this taking hundreds of years for me to get around to and finally post. i hope you enjoy what i have come up with, please let me know what you think! thanks so much for requesting and supporting my blog. enjoy! - admin kat 🌙❣)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Title: You’re Not Good With Weird and I’m Not Good With Fate (Jacob Black x Reader)

Summary: Being best friend’s with a teenage shapeshifter hasn’t been the easiest thing for y/n to have adjusted to, but they have adjusted far better than the pack originally thought they would. Yet when Jacob starts to avoid y/n, the answer they receive is certainly not the one that they were expecting.

Word Count: 4,372

Warnings: Angst, fluff, Jacob being a dick, imprinting, billy interrupting y’all, let me know if there’s anything I’ve missed.

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The news of your best friend being a shape shifting werewolf had left you almost gasping for air on the spot, like a fish having been plucked viciously from water. Anxiety pulsed and rippled through your entire being as the animal before you (which had replaced your Jacob) stared into your bewildered wide eyes with his own bulbous orbs. Your heart was palpating so wildly in your chest that you swore that any minute now it would leap from your rib cage and out onto the dull grass of Billy Black’s lawn. There was an intense feeling of nausea that swirled in your stomach, desperately climbing up your throat which made you feel lightheaded.

“Y/n?” Sam inquired softly, hands raised gently above the sides of his head as though he were surrendering to you. “It’s alright. No one’s going to hurt you.” His voice was soothing, crumbling deeply like the flickers of a log fire turning darker as it’s flames died down to charcoal embers.

“Sam, she looks like she’s gonna puke. You think she’s gonna puke? I hope she doesn’t. I’ve got a weak stomach.” Jared complained distastefully, lips turned down at the corners in a deep frown. “I think I’m gonna throw up now.” He continued, hand on his stomach and brows furrowed.

“Will you shut up, Jared? Nobody cares! Y/n literally looks like she’s about to turn on her heels and start running for the hills.” Paul quipped irately, shaking on the spot.

“Both of you, shut up! That’s an order.” Sam barked over his shoulder at his fellow brothers, voice booming, alarming you out of your shocked state.

“What the hell?” You murmured with furrowed brows, swallowing thickly once again as another wave of anxiety washed over you. “Jacob? Y-you just turned into a dog... a very, very large dog! This is insane.” Your eyes scrunched up as though shutting them as tightly as possible would make this entire scene vanish in a puff of wispy grey smoke. Yet when you opened them once more, the wolf was still in his place, staring at you with pleading orbs.

The entire world that you had grown up knowing came crumbling down at your feet, leaving displeasing confusion in it’s wake. And unfortunately, that was the late time you’d seen Jacob Black.

---

Ominous charcoal clouds packed themselves over the small town of Forks, not a strange occurrence on a Saturday afternoon. Your head was still numb, lacking the ability to focus on even the most simple of tasks. However, here you were, damp hair clinging to the sides of your face as you sat in the drivers seat of your car, wedging your key into the ignition, twisting it and as if by magic your car rumbled to life. The heating blasted through the vents at a whirring pace, but comforting against your cold wet skin. It had been a week since the fiasco in his fathers back yard, and another two weeks since you had gone to visit him to apologize for not taking the news of his newfound abilities lightly, explaining that you had needed some time to get your head around the whole ordeal. You weren’t exactly great with weird.

“Hey,” you hummed shyly after having tenderly pattered up the steps of Emily’s front porch, your presence instantaneously noted by the pack of boys and one girl. You had been met with wolfish grins and a massive dose of teasing that you had definitely not missed. Jacob’s brothers and sister welcomed you back with open arms, relieved now that his depressing inner monologue would silence itself out, replacing itself with it’s usually sunny spell.

Jacob on the other hand had appeared intensely bitter, his hulking back still turned to you, indicating that his feelings were hurt. But you knew that a little bit of TLC and a civilized chat would get his walls to come down. “Can we talk?” You’d inquired sheepishly whilst having stuffed your hands into your back pockets - a nervous habit -.

“What’s there to talk about?” Poison seeped from his mouth. ‘Ouch! He’s definitely still mad.’ you had contemplated this time and time again, but it still didn’t dissipate the intense sting his tone of voice created in your heart.

Paul and Jared murmured something, eyes plastered on the pair of you as Embry had placed a bet with Jared over who would win. Leah promptly swatted the back of their heads at such a lightening pace you’d believed you’d dreamed it up if it wasn’t for the trio having clutched the rear of their skulls.

“You know that’s not true, Jake. We can dish it out for everyone to see right here, right now or we could go and talk somewhere privately.” You’d sounded more miffed than you’d thought you’d been originally. Confrontation, particularly in front of others always made you feel on edge and Jacob knew that.

“Wouldn’t you-” Jacob had spun around on his toes, deep eyes lit on fire with a flame that truly could have scorched you, though as soon as the look of indigence had clouded his complexion, it had vanished as though he’d suddenly choked on his words. He stared at you like he’d just seen the sun for the first time, which made you feel a little uncomfortable.

“Wouldn’t I what, Jacob?” You quipped perplexingly, arms folded neatly over your chest, brows raised in question. But he never answered, just gaped at you with that same love-struck complexion. Everything seemed to slow down between the pair of you, as though the gawping eyes staring at you both didn’t even exist.

A clearing of several throats had pulled the pair of you out of your dazes. The others boys were grinning something awfully mischievous at you both, which only spurred on your bewilderment. “Will you two love birds just get a room already?” Jared tipped his head back in exhaustion.

“No, you don’t have to worry about that because I’m leaving.” Jacob spat that same venom from before. And before you were even aware of it, Jacob had pushed past you and was down at the end of Emily’s garden that lead into the thick shrubbery beyond. And the teenage boy was gone.

A low whistle sounded from behind you and embarrassment radiated from your entire existence. ‘Maybe this had just all been a mistake.’ You kept telling yourself.

In the early days of this turn of events, you hadn’t been the least bit surprised when you had phoned him and he hung up when he heard your voice. Although Jacob was sweet and happy most times, obviously this physical change had left him in some form of anger-induced turmoil, which had only amplified when you had rejected him initially. But now enough was enough. Two weeks was long enough for him to mope about like a petty child. You were through with this.

The drive to La Push was a route that you swore to your friends that you could accomplish safely even blindfolded and the winding roads slick with black ice. You had been there and come back so frequently over the course of three years that it now felt like a second home to you. The pack had welcomed you with their taunting remarks and surprisingly you have become one of them, - despite the fact that you were only a frail human being -.

Determination sunk into your bones the longer that you drove, your previous numbness and apprehension having dissipated. Before long you were pulled up along the side of the road just in front of Jacob’s home; and with how dark it had been all day, you could scarcely tell what time it actually was. Yet nevertheless, you practically heaved yourself out of your car and into the pouring rain. Billy had already seen you pull up from the rickety window of his living room and whilst you neared towards the door, he opened it, allowing a yellow wash of artificial light to cascade in the deepness of early evening. “He’s not here, y/n.” the statement was cold, accompanied by an even more acerbic facial expression on his countenance. This made you feel unwelcome, causing you to wonder what in the world Jacob had told his father to make him use that kind of tone with you. Billy had always been quite chirpy and carefree around you in the past.

“Yeah, I don’t by that, old man.” Your brows furrowed as you muttered the words at him with equal matching coldness. “That’s what you said on the phone yesterday evening when I heard Jake call after you in the background.” You grumbled sarcastically, pushing past Billy. You trailed with you an ocean-full of water into the tiny home, which Billy also did not seem surprised about. In fact, now that you were indoors, you could tell that he appeared as though he had expected you to show up sooner or later.

“Well, haven’t you got me sussed out then.” Sarcasm mixed with a simper. Two traits that obviously Jacob had inherited from his father. But that didn’t stop you from storming through the little house and bursting through Jacob’s bedroom door to find that his closet of a bedroom was uninhabited. You had barely even noticed the squeaking wheels of Billy’s wheelchair. “Just like I said, y/n. He’s not here. But from the looks of your face, I’m bagging on the idea that you won’t be leaving any time soon.” he added wryly, ancient black eyes staring up into your own. “At least do me the favor of taking you jacket and shoes off.”

As if on cue, the back door of the Black’s residence opened, revealing Jacob Black’s towering frame which squeezed in through the small opening. Had Jacob grown in the past two weeks you hadn’t seen him? The boy was blissfully unaware of your presence until he looked up to find yourself and his father frozen on the spot. A flash of surprise dawned across his countenance as he took in your disheveled and wet appearance. The puddle of water at your feet made him snort, he knew he’d be the one cleaning that up once you left. “Hey Jake!” Billy grinned widely at his son. “Y/n just dropped by.” He stated it so obviously and nonchalantly it almost made you cringe. You had to hand it to the old man though, he really could make anything awkward sound causal.

Yet this only appeared to spur on Jacob’s rotten attitude.

"Yeah, I can see that.” He muttered bitterly, his great stature weaving around you and towards his room as though you just some obstacle in his path. A nuisance. Again, no matter how many times he used that same tone on you, it always seemed to sting just as bad as the first time. Yet now there seemed to be a dull ache in your heart, as though it were shattering into a billion pieces. Through the dull ache lit a searing fire of irritation and bitterness, creating a sour taste on your tongue and a distasteful whirlwind of anger flooded your system so intensely that your eyes began to water.

“What the hell is your problem?!” You snapped, following after Jacob. Your arm reached out and attempted to wrap around his bicep, but he only continued forward as though he did not notice your touch.

“Y/n...” Billy warned from behind you both but you paid little mind to his warning.

“Do you think I deserve all of this, Jake? How was I supposed to take the news of you turning into a giant freaking werewolf? I’m not Bella!” You hissed through tightly gritted teeth, your fists tightly balled indignantly at your sides, fingernails almost piercing the delicate skin of your palms, which gave you a sensation to ground yourself on.

A scoff emitted itself from Jacob’s mouth and you could practically hear his eyes rolling in his skull. “Yeah, well at least Bella didn’t avoid me for a whole week like a damn baby.”

“Yeah, you’re right Jake! You doubled that yourself.” If he wanted to play this childish game of hurtful words, you were game to jump right in, regardless of whether or not he would turn into a werewolf in front of you. With the way that your anger continued to fester in your veins, you genuinely felt like you could take him on at this point.

"You know that was different, y/n. I was trying to protect her.”

“Yeah, protecting her. What a load of crap! You’re the biggest hypocrite I’ve ever met in my damn life.” Your voice reached a volume it had never reached prior to this point and it almost scared you out of your menacing stupor.

“Hypocrisy,” the word left his mouth acerbically as his larger frame began to shake undoubtedly and his breathing altered itself to a quicker pace. “You know, I don’t get why you’re so mad at me for avoiding you. Do you not like the taste of your own medicine?”

“Taste of my own medicine?!” You practically shouted. “Again, how was I meant to take the news that you turn into a giant wolf, Jake? I’m not like Bella, I don’t do weird!”

“Then maybe you should leave.” He spat over his shoulder at you. The look in his eyes seemed to show more animal than human as he trembled violently on the spot.

“Leave? Jake, why’re you pushing me away like this? I get it, okay. I was an ass for avoiding you but I needed some time and space to get my head around the fact that you and your friends shape shift!”

Silence rung from him, he shut his orbs tightly, attempting to steady the rage bubbling within him through deep breaths. “You should really leave, y/n.”

“No! No, I’m not leaving until you tell me why you’ve been avoiding me for the past two weeks, Jake. This has more to do with me having taken your shift badly. What happened at Emily’s when I tried to talk to you... when you turned to look at me, it was like you’d seen the sun for the first time in your life. Like-”

“Like what?”

“Like you actually gave a damn about me! And now- now you’re just being an ass. You’re running away from me and I think it’s got something to do with that time at Emily’s.”

Once more, silence hovered over the pair of you, which only indicated to yourself that you had hit the hammer on the nail with doubtless precision.

"Why don’t you just tell me what’s really going on?” You practically pleaded, fingers winding their way around his big wrist. His skin was burning hot, but you refused to let go.

“You wouldn’t understand, y/n. You don’t do weird, remember?”

“Why? Because I’m human? Let me try to do weird for once! I’m learning to...” You hummed under your breath, voice catching in your throat. This felt helpless to you. “Jacob, I don’t want to run away from this any more. I’ve come to terms with what you are and I’m staying, regardless of what you assume I think and feel about you.” It was tender the way that you spoke, an ardent edge that breathed forgiveness from him. You really did want things to work out between the pair of you. All of this arguing and avoiding made your heart ache for your Jacob.

"It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s because I literally hate the fact that I love you so much and you’ll never love me that way back.” There was so much defeat weighing on him that his head and shoulders slumped forward. He still hadn’t dared to face you, though the tremors running up and down his limbs had halted to a soft and slow vibration. He was cooling off. Finally.

In all honesty, this had definitely not been what you were expecting to come flying out of Jacob’s mouth. It left you silent and dumbfounded, mouth dry and agape. “Y-you l-love m-me?” You stammered breathless, fingers tightening around his russet wrist.

“See? This is exactly the reaction I was expecting!” His defenses came clamoring up in order to keep you out. It was exhausting trying to swim against the torrential waves.

"No, Jake, shut up for once! What do you mean that you love me?”

“Just forget I said anything...”

“No!” You tugged on his wrist harder, alerting him finally that you were touching him. He turned to face you, large deep eyes staring into yours with a pained expression. Being this horrible to you, pushing you away was also causing internally emotional damage to him also. “I’m not gonna forget what you said. Jake, you owe me an explanation. I don’t know what happened in the space of these past two weeks you’ve been avoiding me, but being away from you has been painful. It’s like I’ve been drowning without you. The whole time all I kept thinking is that I’d done everything wrong.” You hadn’t even realized there were tears in your eyes until they spilled over and down your cheeks. You batted them away impatiently with your free hand, anger now directed at yourself. “I’m so sorry for- for not having taken your shift well and for freaking out the way that I did. I’m just not good with surprises. But I just wanted you to know that I’ve never stopped loving you and I never will. I’ve always loved you, Jake.”

Awe struck itself across Jacob’s face as he stared at you whilst you cried in front of him. His head cocked to the side momentarily as he blinked a few times. He certainly hadn’t expected that! What did you mean you loved him? How could anyone love him when even he hated the fact that he turned into a werewolf? This didn’t make any sense to him, but it did fit together nicely with what all the other members of his pack had told him.

You were his imprint and these entire two weeks he had been avoiding something he simply could not avoid. Man, he suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of guilt bombard his heart and stomach, leaving him nauseous and unsettled. He’d really put you through the ringer for the past fortnight when really all you had done is react like any sane human would have. He even knew that he’d have reacted as you had. Even when he had shifted for the first time, mixed with all the pain and terror was the thought that he was truly going insane, so in the end, the boy couldn’t blame you for not handling things as well as Bella Swan had. Bella had been immersed in the world of the supernatural far longer than even he himself had. She’d always been odd like that, a danger magnet. The way you had reacted was simply rational, a logical factor of your fight or flight mechanism having kicked in.

The large calloused pads of his thumbs dotted and then pressed softly under your eyes, swiping away your tears with the delicate movement of a feather. “I don’t know what to say...” He stated just above a whisper before he sat on top of his small bed, his chocolate orbs now staring up into yours. Naturally he pulled you into his lap, his embrace hot as you tucked your face into the crook of his neck, the heat of his russet skin drying your tears instantly. “Don’t cry. Please? I hate it when you cry.” He pleaded into your shoulder, hands finding their way underneath your raincoat. He made quick work of rubbing your back soothingly, an action that he knew helped to calm you.

“I’m just not good with the idea of fate and soulmate stuff, y/n.” He hummed sincerely against the fabric of your jacket as he brought you much closer to him. The feeling felt warming, as though you were finally back home. It caused your heart to skip a beat and a sob to rake through you. This felt natural, as though it all made sense to you now.

Since no answer fell from your lips he continued, “I know this is gonna make me sound nuts but- oh hell!” He sounded conflicted as he pulled back from you, his nimble fingers finding their way underneath your chin and tenderly pushing your face up so you could see his reddened face. “Every wolf has what you call a soulmate somewhere out there in the world, but it’s not exactly guaranteed that we’ll meet them. Cheesy I know.” Jacob half smiled at you whilst your brows furrowed in confusion. “From what Sam and Hared have explained to me, it’s called imprinting. When we imprint on someone, it’s like- like you said earlier, we’ve seen the sun for the first time. That person we imprint on becomes our whole world and reason for existing. We have this unbreakable bond with said person. It’s impossible for either the imprint or the imprintee to reject one another. In fact, it’s actually quite painful.” He sighed out, eyes suddenly having dropped their gaze from yours.

“What does that mean?” You inquired softly.

Jacob grinned halfheartedly before he looked into your eyes again. “It means, y/n,” his face leaned closer to you, only milometers away. It left your head swimming with excitement. “that we’re soulmates.”

"Me? I’m your soulmate?” You gawked at him, your pointer finger pointing at your heart. Jacob’s chest rumbled with laughter, your confusion making you appear cute.

“Yeah. And it’s a new thing for me too. I’ve never really believed in fate, hence why I’ve been avoiding you for two weeks. I just hate not being in control of myself. I mean, I never meant to hurt you, you have to know that. You do, don’t you?” He inquired candidly, eyes meeting yours once more and you nodded softly. “Good, because if you didn’t I’d have to kick myself again.”

“You’re mad that I’m your soulmate?”

“Imprint. You’re my imprint, y/n.” Jacob grinned widely as though the sun was gleaming in his bedroom once more. “And yeah, to be truthful, I was. But that’s only because I didn’t want to face it.”

“And now? Do you not want me to be your imprint?”

“Of course I do! I was just being petty. You’re not good with weird, and I’m not good with fate.” To that he rubbed his neck sheepishly, causing you to grin widely and giggle.

“You know, for a six foot seven inch teenage boy who’s built like a tnak, you really have a fragile ego.” This made Jacob tip his head back and laugh in even more abundance.

“Alright, I’ll take that one. I do kinda deserve it.”

“I mean, you really were an ass.”

“Yeah, and so were you.”

“Touche.”

A comfortable silence enveloped you both as you silently grinned down at your fiddling fingers. This whole experience left your mind fuzzy and your belly full of fluttering butterflies. “So does this mean we’re okay not? No more avoiding each other like we’ve got the Black Plague?”

“Yeah, we’re good. No plague included.” He stated with a breathy chuckle, his forehead leaning against yours. His hands trailed down to your hips, thumbs brushing underneath the hem of your shirt in a reassuring gesture.

“Good.” You sighed in relief, smiling like you’d suddenly won the lottery. That’s when you finally took note of how alarmingly hot he was. “Jake?” Concern laced your tone.

“Yeah, y/n?”

“Is it normal for you to feel like you’re on fire all the time?”

“Yeah, that’s unfortunately a wolf thing.”

“Well, that’s certainly gonna come in handy during the winter if I do say so myself.”

Again, as though he could not stop himself, Jacob snickered, wrapping his russet arms around your waist securely, bringing you into his front once more for a tight embrace. This felt like the best feeling in the world, being in his arms. Home. It felt just like the home you’d always dreamed of since you were a little girl. Your orbs began to flutter shut tiredly as your fingers brushed against the base of his neck, the tips fingering through the short hairs on the nape of his neck, a gesture of forgiveness. Peace radiated off of the pair of you as though nothing else mattered in the world. Surely nothing could ruin this moment.

Suddenly, the door nudged open, revealing Billy Black. As if on cue, embarrassing painted evidently on your expression, you flinched out of Jacob’s arms and landed on the bed next to him. The entire movement left him confused until he stared at his father in the doorway with the smuggest grin smacked straight on his face. “Hey, y/n, I see you and Jake have made up. I hope that means that you’ll be staying for dinner. I’ve made my famous spaghetti: It’s a family secret, passed down from generation to generation.” The way this old man was capable of reacting so calmly to any situation was almost laughable.

“S-sure!” You hummed whilst Jacob scoffed beside you, muttering underneath his breath about how spaghetti hardly dated back far enough and wasn’t culturally accurate for it to be true. You pinched Jacob’s arm softly, to which he laughed at.

“Great! Because while you two had your little fiasco I was in there finishing it all up. It’s ready now.” And to that he twisted his wheelchair around and made his way to the living room. “Jake, do you mind plating up the food? Also, can you wipe up that puddle of water on the floor so y/n doesn’t slip?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jake muttered brazenly, his orbs rolling as he got up off of the bed and followed after his father. You grinned to yourself for a moment as you watched Jacob dash to the bathroom to grab a towel and mop up the water you’d left in your wake of chasing him down earlier that evening before he made his way into the kitchen to dish up some plates of Billy Black’s Famous Spaghetti.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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