#like i saw someone say after sunday that they tried liking max but just really can't | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

danielxricciardo · 3 years

Note

Can you do one with Dani? Maybe with 56&58 from angst prompts, like they have a kid from a fling but aren’t dating/together

Summary: You have a daughter with Daniel from a one-night stand.

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing

Word count: 1.7k

56. “I was alone with my baby. My own thoughts terrified me. And you never bothered to call.”

58. “I keep trying to be a better mother, even when everything I do seems to backfire.”

You can boast that up until the age of 22 you were a model person.

You were the perfect daughter: you were home every holiday or birthday, you never argued with your parents and you made sure to call them every day since you moved out of their home.

You were the perfect older sister: you gave your younger siblings money without your parents' knowledge, you helped them when they asked for your help, and you tried to give them advice when they needed it.

You were the perfect friend: when your friends called you that they needed a shoulder to cry on, you were right next to them with a box of ice cream.

You were the perfect employee: you always got to work earlier, you stayed after-hours to finish all your work and to help others and you did your job perfectly.

But now you're 24 and everything is fucked up.

You moved in with your parents again and you no longer have that perfect relationship with them. You resigned from your job and from all the gang of friends you had, you were left with only one friend: Emilia.

Why?

Because now you had a daughter, resulting from a one-night stand.

You were a single mother who relied on the help and support of those around her.

Given that there was nothing more than a one-night stand between you and Kiera's father on your birthday night, you didn't know if it would be appropriate to post him on Instagram and say, 'Hey, 'sup, I don't know if you remember me, you drank a lot of whiskey that night, but we fucked and now you have a baby. Congratulations!' What kind of psychopath does that?

Not to mention that he is a public figure, of course, he wouldn't believe you and say you're just a money-obsessed girl; that if he saw the message on Instagram, obviously.

But it was going to be your daughter's second birthday and you were starting to get remorseful. Sure, you accepted your life as a single mother and you knew you wouldn't have a happy ending like in the princess books you read to Kiara, but it wasn't right for your daughter. She needs a father in her life. And it wasn't fair for Daniel not to know he had a daughter. Of course, you can only tell him and it is up to him to choose what to do with this information: whether he wants to be part of Kiara's life or not. At least you would have tried.

That weekend was going to be the Grand Prix of Great Britain and you didn't do much flying there, and, anyway, you could stay with your cousin you haven't seen in about 5 years.

Although your daughter's father was a well-known Formula 1 driver, you have never been to a race, and you were amazed by the very high prices for a ticket with access to the paddock.

You had a choice of which day to go and tell Daniel, probably, the news of his life.

You were sure you didn't want to tell him on Sunday. Before the race? Maybe he had an accident and he would have hurt himself. So no.

Saturday? Before qualifying? If you had told him then he would have gone to qualifications, he would not have focused and he would have come out on a low position. So no.

So you decided on Friday.

You left your cousin's house in the morning for the circuit where the race took place. You passed security without a problem with Kiara. You could walk through the paddock without any problems looking for your baby's father.

You knew that the best chance of finding Daniel was to go to McLaren Hospitality. On the way there, everyone you met stopped to look at Kaira, wondering how beautiful she was. You thanked them and prayed that they would not realize that she was Daniel's daughter, considering that she was almost identical to him; you could take her curly hair and smile as a positive result of the paternity test.

"What a beautiful baby!" you hear a girl standing in front of Red Bull Racing with Max Verstappen, and you immediately realize it's Kelly Piquet; good thing you documented yourself before you came.

You see her come and lean over the stroller.

"Oh my God, what beautiful eyes she has! What's her name?"

"Kiara," you answer and you look panicked as Max comes towards you.

"Look, Max! Isn't she a beautiful girl?"

Max smiles. "Yes, she is."

"What is such a small child doing here? She's going to hear very loud noises."

Damn it. What would you answer now?

"We came to walk around and meet some drivers," you answer as convincingly as you can. "It's never too early to start, right?" you giggle.

The two laughed, apparently they believed you.

But you immediately felt your legs soften and you saw Daniel walking with his teammate. You bit your lip and held on to the stroller better. All the courage left you and you wanted to leave.

"A baby!" Lando gasps and comes towards you.

Wonderful! Everyone behaved as if they had never seen a baby in their life, pathetic.

Daniel came after him, looking at you strangely. Did he recognize you? He also looks at Kiera and smiles.

You could've died there. You wanted to cry and you couldn't take your eyes off Daniel.

The next thing you saw was black.

You woke up lying on a bed, someone was holding a cold water pad on your forehead. And your head hurt a hell of a lot.

"Hey, are you okay?" Lando, who was next to you asks.

"Mhm, my head hurts."

"Oh, yes, you hit yourself a little when you fainted but a doctor came and consulted you while you were still unconscious and said you were fine. Can I get you something?"

"Just water."

"Coming right now," he says and gets up from next to you, leaving the room.

Kiera! Where was she? You get out of bed immediately, even though it made your head spin and you felt like throwing up.

"Hey, hey, hey, calm down!" Daniel says and gets up from his chair with Kiera in his arms.

You look at Kiera and breathe a sigh of relief.

"You seem so familiar to me," says Daniel and you want to faint again. "What's your name?"

"Y/N."

He seemed to be thinking. He didn't know how he knew you and you were afraid to tell him anything now.

"Wait! Spain, 2 years ago! It was like your birthday and we did shots together, right?"

Fuck. He remembered.

"Yes."

Daniel was smiling. Did he only remember the shots in the club?

"About that night..." you say and catch Daniel's attention. You signal to Kiera who is playing with some keys in Daniel's arms.

Daniel looked at the little girl and it was as if you could see the wheels spinning in his head.

"Wait a minute..."

"I brought you water, do you feel bet-"

"Go away!" Daniel shouts at Lando. Lando gets scared and gives you your water bottle then leaves. "What were you saying?"

You bite your lip.

"Kiera is your daughter."

"Dada!"

Daniel was speechless. His eyes were wide and they seemed to be coming out of their sockets and he was looking at Kiera. You didn't know how to interpret his reaction.

"Are you serious?"

"I don't know why you think I'm kidding."

"Are you sure I'm the father?"

You snort and get out of bed, you go to him and take Kiera out of his arms.

"What do you think? That I go to different wealthy men and tell them that they have a baby with me to give me money? I came to tell you because I thought Kiera would do well to have a father in her life. But I see that her father is not interested at all. You haven't even called me in all these years."

Daniel frowns and looks at you.

"What are you talking about?"

"The next morning I woke up before you and left my phone number on a note. I left it on your nightstand."

All the color was drained from his face.

"I didn't see the note."

You snort again.

“I realize it was a bad idea. I was alone with my baby. My own thoughts terrified me. And you never bothered to call.” you say and a few tears run down your face.

"Hey, hey, hey! You don't get to cry! I found out I lost the first few years of her life! You should have come earlier to tell me! You could come here, I don't know, you could contact me on Facebook, Instagram!"

"Yeah, sure! You doubted me now, if you'd have woken up with a message from me on Instagram you would have believed me immediately!"

"I believe you now," he says and puts a hand on your shoulder. "Please, I want to know more about her life. Can you stay?"

You looked at him with tears in your eyes. Is this really happening?

You both sat on the bed and Daniel took his daughter in his arms.

"Her full name is Kiera Hazel. In two weeks she'll be 2 years old." you start saying it with a big smile on your face. "Her first word was 'dada'."

Daniel laughs and looks at her.

"Was it hard to raise her alone so far?"

“I keep trying to be a better mother, even when everything I do seems to backfire. I had to resign from work because I couldn't divide my time between work and her, I moved back with my parents... All my friends left me, so yes, it's been pretty hard. But it's worth it when I see her smile.”

"I'm sorry you had to go through this alone. If you allow me, I want to be in her life. I want to help you."

"That will be great, actually," you smile.

211 notes · View notes

lightsovermonaco · 3 years

Text

His Good Sweater: Chapter 11 (NSFW)

Masterlist

IT’S THE MOMENT YOU’VE BEEN WAITING FOR BESTIES! Thanks as always to @acollectionofficsandshit I think I broke her with this chapter! She also found the song for this chapter so special thanks for that as well ❤

Word Count: 7.6k

Recommended song: “The Man Who Can’t be Moved” by the Script

The steam of the shower cleanses your senses and washes away the sweat from your workout. Crisp September air rushes through the open window and raises goosebumps on your skin as you step out. You turn off the tap and wrap yourself in a fluffy towel in an attempt to ward off the chill. A glance at the clock tells you that you have a half hour to get ready before your date picks you up.

Peter was one of the few guys in your major that paid you any attention. Most of them tolerated you at best but it had never bothered you. You were independent enough that you could make it through class on your own and google what you didn’t understand afterward and learn it before the exam.

It had been fairly easy to fall in with Peter and a few others during the first few weeks of summer classes. What began with group study sessions and quickly developed into hanging out one on one with Peter on the weekends to go to coffee shops or play video games.

When Peter had asked you out two months ago, Pierre's voice nagged in the back of your head. He asked if you were ready to move on from him and if you could really forget him.

The simple answer was no, forgetting him was impossible. No matter how many years passed, he would always own a part of you.

Peter was sweet and he cared about you but you were quickly realizing the bond you shared with him didn't run as deep as it had with Pierre. He started as your friend and you really didn't feel right letting it develop past that. Although you had agreed to that date and plenty more in the time since, it still didn’t feel like a relationship. You had to stop yourself from imagining someone else's arm around you when you lounged on the sofa or someone else's lips kissing you goodnight.

You slip into a form fitting red cocktail dress and sweep your hair over a shoulder, banishing the memory. The person staring back at you in the mirror is a stranger, a ghost of who you once were. You pull your lips into a smile nowhere near as bright as it was months ago.

A knock on your apartment door startles you from your trance. Peter holds a bouquet of flowers, a broad grin on his face. He was handsome in a traditional sense, with a sharp jawline and playful forest green eyes that promised a good time. He was adventurous; a night in wasn’t in the cards. Everything was an event with him and you didn’t mind the distractions one bit.

"You look amazing as always," he says, stepping inside and kissing your cheek. You sniff the flowers lightly. Daisies were some of your least favorite flowers but the gesture was too sweet to point that out.

"So do you," you respond, gaze sweeping from his scuffed wingtip shoes to his crisp blue button down shirt. Ocean blue, washed out against Peter's pale skin, but would have looked perfect on Pierre's golden complexion.

You had to stop thinking about him. You saw him everywhere. On more than one occasion, you dropped out of a conversation when you caught a glimpse of blond hair bobbing through a crowd or heard a laugh startlingly similar to his. You couldn’t escape the idea of him whether you liked it or not.

"Are you okay?" Peter asks, touching your elbow.

God, you were so far from okay. Your mind was a melted mess of memories of a blond Frenchman and all the broken promises between the pair of you. This was pointless. You were wasting your time with Peter. He was great and should have been everything you wanted but he just wasn't enough.

"I'm so sorry," you start, handing back the flowers. "I don't think this is going to work."

"Oh thank god," he says, shoulders drooping as he runs a hand through his hair. "I've been thinking the same thing, I just didn't want to be the one to say it." You both laugh, the tension ebbing from your frame.

"Don't get me wrong," he continues, "You're amazing. There's just no…"

"Spark," you finish. "Yeah, I agree. Friends?"

You stick out your hand and he shakes it firmly. "Sounds like a plan. No hard feelings. See you in class on Monday?"

"I'll be there."

You slip out of your heels with a sigh, glad you don't have to endure that form of torture any longer. For the first time in months, you allow yourself to scroll through Pierre's Instagram.

Instead of being flooded with personal pictures it had become mostly posed shoots.it was the kind of thing that seemed staged, like he was only posted because his PR team deemed it necessary.

As time went on the content became more and more clinical. He was giving fans less of an insight into his personal life and focusing on racing content. You knew he had probably thrown everything he had into the season in an attempt to move on and you couldn't blame him.

If his Insta was to be believed, he had earned a handful of podiums in the four months since you had mostly lost interest in the sport. After Austin it had been nearly impossible to watch a full race and you had instead been getting your biased updates from Max, who conveniently left out all but the barest details of anyone’s race weekend but his own.

There was no point in trying to convince yourself you no longer felt anything for Pierre. Just scrolling through his page reignites the flame in your chest that had been burning far too dimly for far too long.

Heart pounding, you double tap a photoset of him modeling for Alpha Tauri, the lighting accenting his eyes. Their distinct, rich blue had always been your weakness.

Your fingers find their way to the charm at your throat. You hadn't taken it off once since the gala. It was pointless to deny the sway he still held over you all these months later. Maybe it was time you stopped pretending you were fine and finally give in to the pull.

The past few months have given you plenty of time to reflect. The media would hound you like dogs but at least while you were in London they would leave your family alone. And really, enduring their scrutiny was a small price to pay if it meant loving Pierre.

“I’m an idiot,” you mumble, pulling up his contact in your phone. Breaking up with him had been the dumbest decision of your life. You’d watched him from afar as he traveled from grand prix to grand prix, touring cities and sleeping everywhere except where he belonged: curled up next to you in your tiny London flat, whispering sweet nothings in your ear until you both fell asleep.

You couldn’t bear it any longer. Fuck what anyone would say. Nothing could be worse than knowing your soulmate was out there and you let him go.

Heart pounding, you type out a text. I miss you.

Shaking your head, you erase it. How are you? Seemed more appropriate.

"Here goes nothing," you murmur and hit send.

**********

It started off as any other free Sunday did: Charles and Charlotte arriving at his apartment carrying snacks and beer which neither of them would tell their trainers about tomorrow and plopping in front of the television to watch the PSG match.

The trio roared at the screen at poor calls and yelled when a goal was scored, all completely lost in the sport.

Pierre absently registers his phone buzzing during the last few minutes of the match but ignores it. PSG comes out on top and he finally checks it, nearly choking on the pretzels he was eating.

How are you?

Pierre has to read it thrice before he’s convinced it’s real.

"Holy fuck," he says softly, tipping the phone so Charles can see.

"Told you mate." He takes Charlotte's hand and stands. Football match completely forgotten, Pierre lifts a hand in a wave as the couple leaves. His eyes are fixed on the screen as he tries to comprehend the gravity your words carry.

After months of waiting in agony and wondering if you still cared, you’d texted him.

He had no idea how he managed to keep his feet on the floor. He was completely weightless, reading your message over and over again until it sinks in.

He takes the three simple words as permission to finally delve back into your life, immediately scrolling through your instagram to catch up. He double taps every post save for the ones with you and some tall, handsome guy. His stomach twists.

Fuck it. Even if you just wanted to catch up, he'd take it. If you told him you were with someone else and you were happy, he'd learn to live with it. He was starved of you and was prepared to beg for crumbs of your life.

I'm fine. You have time for a phone call?

It was a leap but he acknowledged and accepted the risks.

Yeah. That would be good.

You pick up on the second ring.

"Hey."

Pierre squeezes his eyes shut, pushing back the lump in his throat. Years of memories rush over him in the space of a breath. The shock in your voice when you found out he was a driver for the first time. Your smile and breathless laugh when you met him in the garage in Brazil after his first podium in Formula 1. The tentative glances he had thrown your way for months after he finally accepted that he had begun to fall for you. The way your velvet lips felt when he made a gamble and kissed you for the first time. The drunken lilt of your voice when you told him you loved him that night in London.

Before he can stop it the bad comes rushing back too. The memory of the terror on your face when he let it slip that you were together sends a chill through him. If there was one moment he could change, it wouldn’t be the time he fucked up and lost his seat at Red Bull. It would be to keep his damned mouth shut at that karting track and preserve the bliss of that day and tuck it away in a bulletproof case that he could pull out and look at whenever he wanted.

"Hey you," he manages, silently thanking whoever is listening that he keeps the tremble out of his voice. "Been awhile."

"Yeah," you say sheepishly. "Sorry about that."

"You don't have anything to apologize for," he says quickly. "You never need to apologize to me."

You were the last one that needed to apologize for anything. He should be the one beginning for forgiveness. It was his fault you’d panicked. He should have fought harder for you, proved that he could make it work and save you both from months of heartache. But then again, maybe you had moved on. He couldn’t expect you to wait for him forever.

He doesn’t realize he’s been silent for so long until you clear your throat. For the first time he can recall, the silence is thick and heavy with unspoken words. It had always been effortless, the stories and words flowing like a babbling brook between the two of you. Now the confessions on his tongue remain poised there, too terrified to give them the light of day.

"How's your season been?" He’s thankful you break the quiet first but the question makes his stomach sink.

"You haven't been watching?"

"Not really."

"Oh." It made sense that you would distance yourself from him and that was fine, but he couldn’t pretend it didn’t hurt. "It's been decent. Red Bull wants me to come to Milton for contract discussions this week, actually."

"You're moving back up?"

"Potentially." Horner had only called him earlier that week to discuss the potential of him returning to Red Bull next year. The informal agreement was that if he could make seventh in the championship in a midfield car, they would bump him back for the following season.

It wasn’t a concrete guarantee- that’s why Horner wanted to speak with him in person. He had a year left in his contract and being in a Red Bull meant he would be able to prove his worth to other teams and potentially secure a world championship worthy seat at a team that actually appreciated his talent.

He draws a breath before continuing, "I'll be in London on Monday. You know- if you wanna get together."

You stay silent for a touch too long and he panics. It was too soon. He should have kept his mouth shut because now he’d driven you away again. “Nevermind, forget I said anything-"

"No," you interrupt, "no, I'd love to see you and catch up. I don't have classes on Tuesdays. Have any free time then?"

His eyes slide shut and he exhales. The flack he would undoubtedly catch for shuffling around a few interviews would be worth it to see you. "Yeah. I can swing by your apartment around seven?"

"Okay," you say, a touch of excitement lacing your voice. "I'll make myself presentable."

"I-" he stops himself before the words can slip past his lips. "I'll see you then."

*********

Pierre blows out a breath and adjusts his backpack. He stands at the threshold of your building, keys in hand, unsure if he should let himself in. The dilemma had kept him rooted to the spot for nearly ten minutes now, weighing the pros and cons of his options.

“Hey you, blond fucker.” Pierre whips around and is met by Daniel’s girlfriend glaring up at him from the sidewalk. She tips her head to the side to study him. Apparently he wasn’t the only one that had to cancel plans to be here tonight. “You gonna grow a pair and go up there or just keep staring at the door all day?”

“I’m going,” he grumbles, “are you?”

“Oh, I was going to but clearly whatever you have planned is more important.” Her grin splits her face ear to ear. “About damn time she got ahold of you. I was getting sick of listening to her gripe about you twenty four seven.”

“Didn’t she tell you I was coming by? If you guys have plans I can come back later.”

She waves a hand and dismisses the offer. “Absolutely not. Go get your girl.”

“She’s not-” The glare she cuts him snatches the words from his mouth. She makes a shooing motion before setting off down the sidewalk, munching on whatever snacks were in her shopping bag.

Pierre shakes out his hands and tries to gather the courage to use his key. The hopeless romantic argued that you would expect him to use it because you would know he still had it. The rational side of him butts in to point out that it might catch you off guard if he showed up without warning. He settles on buzzing your unit, your answer fuzzy from the distortion.

"Pierre?"

Even with the warbly static in your voice, his name on your lips is the salvation he’s been dreaming about for months. "Yeah it's me."

"Don't you have a key?"

"I wasn't sure if I should use it."

You don't answer, instead letting the buzz of the electronic lock do the talking. He takes the stairs three at a time, barely winded by the time he reaches the third floor. He doesn't even have to knock, your door swinging open as he steps up. The sight of you knocks the breath from his lungs.

It didn't matter that you were in a simple hoodie and jeans, feet bare and hair swept back in a low bun. You are the most beautiful person he's ever seen and after months apart he nearly falls to his knees then and there to beg for your forgiveness, to get lost in you until two souls became one and he never had to live another second apart from you.

"Are you gonna stand there or do you wanna come in?"

God, he had missed your teasing jabs. His fingers ache for contact with your soft skin and he curls them into a fist to resist the urge. “Coming in,” he says softly, purposefully brushing your arm as he skirts past you. Every inch of him sings from the barely there touch, his soul aching for more.

Just stepping foot into your quaint flat has the weight he had been carrying on his chest for months beginning to ease up. Nothing beat the elation of being back where he belonged, not even spraying champagne from the top step on a podium.

Determined not to scare you off before he could have a proper conversation with you, Pierre opts for falling into the same humor you had used earlier. The corners of his mouth twitch upward. "Is that takeout I smell?"

You nod, your cheeks turning a pale pink. “I got you two orders of beef lo mein. I figured you might be hungry.”

As if summoned, his stomach growls. “Yeah. I haven’t eaten since breakfast."

“Figures,” you say, eyes glinting with mischief as you settle into the plush carpet and pull a takeout box towards you. "I got it from that place across town, the one you liked best." Pierre perches on the edge of the sofa and snags the plastic tray with his name on it, eyes never leaving yours.

Now that you were mere feet from him he found it increasingly difficult to deny himself the relief of kissing you here and now. He wanted to trace his thumb over your lips before replacing it with his own, to slot his mouth over yours until time was nothing and he was no one other than yours.

You clear your throat and drop his gaze first, sending him crashing back to reality. “So, ninth huh? Glad to see you cracked the top ten.”

Pierre scrunches his nose and spears a piece of broccoli. He was shit with chopsticks but you always got a kick out of him fumbling with them. “Not where I’d like to be but I’ll take it. Horner took notice obviously, but I’m not getting my hopes up.”

“I think an invitation to Milton Keynes is enough reason to hope," you say around a mouthful of sticky rice.

This interaction was reason to hope. The fact that you were once again on speaking terms, that things were finally returning to some semblance of normal, was enough for him to believe that one day everything would be back to how it was before. That maybe, just maybe, he could hold you in his arms again and fall asleep to the soundtrack of your heart beating in his ear.

Remembering the guy from your instagram, he scans the room for any sign of a male companion. Finding none, he asks, “How’s your boyfriend?”

It probably would have been a good idea to go about this particular line of questioning with a bit more tact. Inquiring so blatantly betrayed his inner thoughts, laid all his cards on the table. He didn't have it in him to care, not when his world might be turned upside down by your answer.

“Oh, you mean Peter?” You sip your water, seemingly working up the courage to explain. Each moment that the silence dragged on it became more of a physical monster. Pierre could feel it growing until it threatened to sink his claws in him and drag him deeper into the pits of his insecurity.

“If that’s his name, yeah.” Pierre braces himself for whatever comes next, reminding himself to be happy for you no matter what you choose. It would take time but he could put aside what he still felt for you and learn to accept your choice if it meant staying in your life.

You shake your head. “He’s a friend from uni. He’s not my boyfriend. At least not anymore.”

“Oh,” he says, frowning down at his food to cover the way his heart skips. “But he was?”

He had expected you to move on, if he was being honest. No way in hell did you deserve to be as miserable as he had been since you'd left- you deserved all the happiness he couldn't seem to give you and more. And if someone else had been the one to grant you that happiness, he should thank them.

“For a little while,” you say softly, like it would cushion the blow. “It didn’t feel right.”

He was familiar with that feeling. Nothing he did felt right after the break up. Just about the only thing that kept him sane was telling himself that you’d come to your senses sooner or later.

And now that he was here, his world was beginning to right itself.

“Earth to Pierre,” you say teasingly, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly. “I just- I’ve missed this,” he says, picking at his food.

“What, eating subpar takeout in my tiny apartment?” You laugh and stuff another bite in your mouth. God, you could be so oblivious. It was one of the many things he adored about you.

“I do. I miss doing anything that involves you, actually.”

There it was. His heart laid bare before you for the second time, waiting to see how you would respond. You set down your chopsticks and wipe your lips. His eyes track their movement as you whisper, “I’ve missed you too.”

Four syllables and he melts. It takes all he has to keep himself from sobbing with relief. It was everything he had come here hoping to hear. He couldn’t endure this again, couldn’t lose you for a second time-

“Don’t say that unless you mean it,” he pleads, body thrumming with the need to wrap you in his arms. “Don’t put me through this again unless you’re here to stay.”

He wasn't strong enough to tell you to stop. He would let you wreck him and he would be completely powerless to stop it. He would welcome it if it meant you granting him a sliver of your time. It would ruin him for anyone else but he didn’t have it in him to turn you away.

You rise to your feet and pad around the low table until you’re standing knee to knee, his neck craned up to study your face. You just keep looking at him, the leash on his carefully controlled restraint slipping as he rambles, “Because I can’t take it if you leave me again, I won’t-”

You simply nod, as if that’s all the answer he should need. But it’s not enough. “Tell me,” he pleads. “Tell me you mean it.”

He didn’t care that he was begging. He didn’t care that you had reduced his normally impenetrably stoic mentality to a jumble of you. If he was being honest with himself, you were the light of his life, the reason he pushed so hard for results on track. Everything had gone black and white when you left and racing had been the only thing keeping him from falling apart at the seams. The need to make you proud still propelled him forward even if he'd had no idea if you still cared.

So no, he didn’t care at all that he was practically on his knees. He would grovel at your feet for his entire life if it meant you’d grant him one more day to be with you.

“I mean it,” you murmur and place a hand on his cheek. He draws a shaky breath, leaning into you. Home, home, home, his head screams, acutely aware of every square inch of contact between the two of you.

“I’ve had plenty of time to think about it, and I’ve finally come to terms with it- your lifestyle. If I love you, I have to accept it being public. I have to build myself a shelter to withstand the storm, but I’ll make it big enough for two.”

It takes everything in him to keep from crushing you to his chest and never letting go. He had to ask, had to be certain beyond the shadow of a doubt that it was forever. “Promise me you won’t leave again if things get hard. Promise me we’ll get through whatever they throw at us together.”

“I promise. I’m not afraid anymore,” you murmur. Pierre’s head falls forward to rest on your hip bone, your fingers threading in his hair. “Daniel’s girlfriend helped me see that it doesn’t matter what anyone says. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I haven't been the same since I…”

“Neither have I.” His thumb winds under your shirt to sweep over your soft skin. “You’re safe with me, you know that right? I can protect you from whatever they say and you’re right, it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is this-” he finally lets himself look up at you- “what we have. I’ve never stopped loving you, not once.”

Your smile is soft and tentative as you climb into his lap. His hands slide up your sides to pull you closer, refusing to let an inch separate you now that you’d bridged the gap. “I promise I’m not going anywhere. I learned my lesson.”

You lean down to ghost your lips over his brow, his closed eyelids, his nose. He can feel himself reconstructing under your touch, that final piece of the puzzle clicking home after being lost for so long. “I promise that I’m yours until the last star falls from the sky.”

He had lost four months of time with you. He wouldn't allow another second to slip through his fingers.

Anticipating his movements, you meet him halfway. Fireworks explode as his lips finally return home and his world is finally, finally righted. Your nails scratch lightly at the nape of his neck, drawing him impossibly closer as your body moulds against his. He had nearly forgotten how perfectly your curves fit against him after all this time. He was determined to memorize every mountain and valley of you by the night's end.

His hands grip your thighs and he stands. Your arms automatically wind around his neck to keep from falling. He carries you to the kitchen and sets you on the edge of the island, never breaking the kiss. Nothing mattered outside of this apartment; not his career, not any baseless gossip, nothing existed beyond the space where your skin met his.

Pierre pulls back long enough to remove his shirt. Your fingers dance over his skin, relearning the planes of his chest like you had all the time in the world. And you did; he would stay here as long as you let him, reveling in the way you drank up every inch of his body like it was the first time you’d seen it.

“I love you,” you say as he kisses along your jaw.

How many times had he dreamt of you whispering that to him the past four months? How many times had it echoed in his head before a race, taunting him? He could scarcely believe his mind wasn’t playing more tricks on him now. He had to be certain it was real.

“Say it again,” he breathes. “Please. Please, tell me again.”

“I love you,” you repeat, punctuating each word with a kiss. “I love you Pierre, my champion, my heart, my everything.”

Pierre groans against your mouth, knotting his fingers in your hair and tugging your head back to expose your throat. He nips at the soft skin, not caring that he was leaving a trail of tiny marks in his wake. His focus was entirely on the gasps he was dragging from you with each touch, your heels digging into his ass and begging for him to be closer.

"My sweet, kindhearted man," you continue breathlessly. He didn't know if the words were for your benefit or his. "My best friend. My one and only love."

In that moment, you could ask him to bring you a star from the midnight sky and he wouldn't stop until he found a way to make it happen. You could ask for his last dollar and he would hand it to you with a smile on his face, completely enthralled with the way his name sounds on your tongue, professing that you still wanted him as much as he wanted you.

You were his undoing.

“Off,” he growls, tugging at your sweatshirt. You obey instantly and fling it aside, neither of you caring when dishes clatter to the tile floor and undoubtedly break. Your jeans follow suit after he helps you slip out of them. He runs his fingers over the delicate black lace of your bra and panties and pauses to appreciate that you knew exactly where the night would lead.

His cock twitches as you reach between your bodies to run a knuckle over his clothed length. “Your turn.” You undo the button with practiced ease, taking your sweet time as his breath comes in ragged gasps. He’d had a taste of you and hadn’t forgotten how you’d felt around him. He needed you more than he needed the air he breathed, his desperation taking over as he swats your hand aside and strips off his jeans and boxers himself.

He drops to his knees and grips your thighs, pulling you forward until your center is inches from his face. The yelp that escapes you is intoxicating, your hands flying back to catch yourself. His teeth sink none too gently into the flesh of your thigh and he’s rewarded with a moan before he flicks his tongue over the hurt.

Your head falls back and Pierre places one of your legs over his shoulder. “Mon amour,” he purrs, garnering your attention. Your head lolls forward and he waits until you meet his gaze to speak again. “You know I love you, right?”

“I never doubted it,” you confirm, lips curling in a smile. “But why don’t you prove it to me again?”

He pulls your panties aside and blows lightly. You groan, thighs tensing under his fingers as your toes curl and he chuckles. “Sounds like a challenge.”

“Do you really want to tease me?”

“What I want,” he says sharply, “is to have you moaning my name until it's the only word you know.” His tongue flicks out to dance over your thigh, dangerously close to where he knows you want him. “What I want is to make up for lost time.” He rips through the thin lace of your panties and lets the ruined scraps fall to the floor.

“Those were expensive.”

“I’ll buy you new ones.”

He would buy you an entire lingerie store if he could rip every set of it off you. He didn’t care how much it costed, it was never too much when it came to you.

“What I want most, my love,” he murmurs, smiling when his hot breath curls over your dripping cunt and you squirm, “is to forget everything else and stay here forever.”

You cry out when his tongue finally flicks through your folds. Pierre hums approvingly at your reaction, one arm snaking up to pin your hips in place. He sucks lightly at your clit and your fingers tangle in his hair.

“P-Pierre,” you breathe. He pulls back and you whine at the loss of contact. He grins up at you, the wickedness of it dragging the moan from your lips that he was after. He was drunk on the sound, desperate to hear it again and again.

“There’s my good girl.” He runs his tongue flat over your sex, savoring the taste as you squirm under him. You let out a choked noise when he repeats the motion before fucking you with his tongue, his nose hitting your clit with each stroke.

He doesn’t miss the way your lip wobbles and Pierre knows you’re ready to cry with frustration. He decides he’s tortured you enough for now and relents, putting two fingers in his mouth to wet them before plunging them inside you.

His mouth is spelling his name on your clit a moment later, your walls already clamping down on his fingers as your orgasm nears. In the handful of times he’d taken you to bed, he had already learned that when your head rolls back like that and your breathing stops, you’re seconds away from climaxing. He doesn’t let up until you’re shaking beneath him, finally slowing to work you through your orgasm without making you hypersensitive.

“Baby,” you groan breathlessly. Pierre slowly withdraws his fingers and wipes them on his thigh before pressing a final, tender kiss to your center that makes you jump.

“Use my name,” he demands, uncoiling to his full height. He grips your wrist and hauls your boneless body up, wrapping his other arm around your shoulders to keep you upright.

“Pierre,” you murmur and he grinds his hips against you in approval. He captures your mouth with his, taking advantage of your hazy mind to lazily explore it.

You hum into the kiss, managing to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. Suddenly the column of your neck is all he can think about and he wraps a hand around it, squeezing with enough force that you pull back with a gasp.

“Too much?” He murmurs, lessening his grip. Your brows knit together and your lower lips juts out, begging for him to take it between his teeth. He leans in and gives in to the impulse as he swipes his thumb under your jaw.

“Tell me if you want my hand on your throat, my love. I need to hear you say it.”

“Please,” you say finally. Your eyes are cloudy when they meet his. “Keep it there.”

He shows his approval in the form of a light squeeze. You angle your hips up, nudging his cock with your center. You reach a hand down to wrap around his shaft and drag the head through your folds, teasing him as he had done to you. The grip on your throat tightens to a point bordering blissfully between pain and pleasure, both a warning and an order to continue.

If you knew how close he was to flipping you on your stomach and slamming into you, you’d call him crazy. Or maybe you’d like it, judging by the way your head falls back as he rocks his hips and inches into you.

You both moan when he decides the time for restraint has passed and he slams into you. You lift your hips to meet his with every thrust, clearly missing this just as much as he had. God, he’d lost months of fucking you, of feeling you clench around him and writhe beneath him. If he could stay like this forever he would, his hand around your neck and cock splitting you open as he laps up your moans like sweet candy.

“I’m- Pierre,” you squeak out, and he knows you’re barreling towards your second orgasm of the night. He pulls you up by your neck until you’re eye to eye and forced to look at him.

“Come for me,” he whispers, slamming into you again and again. “Come on my cock mon amour and I might just cum inside you.”

His words are your undoing, pleasure rippling from you in waves as your mouth falls open in a silent plea. He grants you no clemency as your cunt twitches around him, instead following through on his promise and following your lead.

You pants mix with his own as he struggles to keep both of you upright, his knees turned to jelly. Your head rests on his shoulder and he presses a kiss to your temple, slowly pulling out of you. A pitiful whimper escapes your throat involuntarily.

“I know,” Pierre murmurs, reaching over to start the kitchen sink. He wets a clean cloth and runs it between your legs, still supporting you as he doesn’t trust that your legs won't give out if he doesn’t. When it’s clear you can barely form a coherent thought, he scoops you in his arms and carries you to your room. He nudges the bathroom door open with his hip and sets you on the vanity.

The absence of his body heat makes you shiver when he goes to turn on the shower, adjusting the knobs until he’s satisfied with the temperature. He gathers you in his arms and steps into the tub, your sigh audible as the warm water hits your skin.

“Can you stand?” he murmurs before kissing your temple. You nod against his chest and he sets you down, keeping his hands on your waist just in case. You’re thankful for it when your knees wobble, a hand flying out to steady yourself.

“I’m okay,” you say after a beat and grin up at him. “I can stand, promise.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m taking my hands off you,” he says, grinning right back. “At least not for long.” He reaches over your shoulder for the shampoo and gestures for you to turn around. You obey, tipping your head back to wet your hair. A blissful sigh escapes you when his fingers meet your scalp, the cherry blossom scent blooming in the air as he works it into a lather.

Taking care of you was just as satisfying as the sex was. He cherished the intimacy of taking this small burden from your shoulders. The seemingly simple task was one of deep seated trust and it proved to him that your love ran bone deep. There was a level of trust in you letting him wash you that he didn't want to have with anyone else. It was reserved for you and you alone.

“Close your eyes,” he warns before guiding your head back under the water for a rinse. He cups a hand to your forehead to keep the soap from your eyes. Your smile is soft but unrestrained as you lean further into him until your back is pressed to his chest.

You both stay silent as he runs the creamy conditioner through the ends of your hair. His hand cups your jaw and tips your head back for a lazy kiss before he rinses that too and cuts the tap.

Once you're wrapped in a fuzzy white towel he finally dries himself off, fighting off a chill. He doesn't realize you're watching him until he turns around and notices you standing in the doorway.

"What?"

You push off the wall and pad back to where he stands to wrap your arms around his middle. His thumb traces patterns on your shoulder, perfectly content to stand there dripping on the tile until morning.

When it's clear you're lost in thought he speaks up. "What's on your mind?"

"When did you know you loved me?"

"Like the exact moment?" He asks, caught off guard. You nod against his chest.

"When you visited me in Milan last summer," he says a few heartbeats later. That night insisted on making guacamole at two in the morning and woke me up because you couldn't find a lime. You told me you couldn't sleep because it was all you could think about after you saw that couple at the cafe eating it."

"Why then?"

"Because I knew I didn't have a lime but I was fully prepared to knock on every door in the building to find you one. Because in that moment all that mattered was seeing your face light up when I handed it to you and knowing that it was me that made you smile like that. I knew then that I’d do anything for you."

It still amazed him how a lime of all things was the tipping point. In that moment, a lime was important to you and it so naturally became important to him. If anyone else had woken him from his deep sleep he would have grumbled and told them off. But you, seeing your face inches from his, the light from the hall casting a warm halo around your frame as you whispered his name, he hadn’t cared at all.

"But then I found the juice in the fridge," you recall and glance up at him.

"Yeah, you did. And you felt so bad for waking me up- you had no idea that I had already fallen so hard that I had to keep myself from shutting you up with a kiss.”

The easy admission seems to stir something in you and you rise up on your tiptoes to press your lips to his. “I knew that time you sent food to my dorm at midnight when I was pulling an all nighter. I was studying for my calculus final, remember?”

Pierre nods. “I was in Barcelona. You weren’t answering your phone so I sent a message with the takeout guy.” He had been wholly enamored with you at that point, having quickly learned that trying to keep his feelings buried deep was an option that would never work. So he leaned into it, letting little bits of it shine through in hopes that you might pick up on it.

Your laugh rumbles through him. “It was the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for me. I hadn’t eaten all day. I was too nervous.”

“Took us long enough to figure it out didn’t it?” He untangles himself from you and leads you to bed.

“I’m just glad we did eventually.” You let him guide you to the mattress while he stays standing and goes to your closet. He hunts for the shirt he wants to see you in, praying you hadn’t gotten rid of it. He finally finds it tucked back in the corner and pulls it out, the cobalt blue fabric a little faded from how often you’d worn it over the years.

“I remember that,” you say softly as he returns with it and slips it over your head.

It was the first shirt he had ever gotten upon entering Formula 1 and somehow you had wound up snagging it from his closet while he cleaned up the mess in the kitchen during that same trip to Milan. He had choked on his guac when you reappeared wearing it, eyes lingering on the Torro Rosso logo on the chest and his name splayed across your back like a claiming.

"I don't have sweatpants for you anymore," you point out with an apologetic wince. "I got rid of them."

Pierre just shrugs and hands you the shirt. "I have a change of clothes in my backpack. I was planning on working out to blow off some steam if…"

He trails off and you nod in silent acknowledgement. He didn’t have to voice the thought, you were already in his head and knew exactly what he meant. Unable to help himself, he kisses your head just because he can before retrieving his bag from the kitchen. "I have something for you," he says and lets the towel around his waist drop.

You let out a low whistle and grin at him as your eyes slide over every inch of his body. He takes more time than necessary to pull out his shorts, appreciating your gaze. You're still watching him as he slips them on and brings his bag to you.

"Do you wanna see what I got you or are you gonna stare at me all night?"

"I think I'll stare."

Pierre rolls his eyes and chuckles, plopping down next to you. "Close your eyes and hold out your hands."

You do as he asks but not before cocking a brow at him. Knowing the sound of the package will give it away, he does his best to draw out the first item as quietly as he can. The second he sets it in your hands a smile splits your face. He'd tear down the energy station with his bare hands to keep that expression on your face.

"It's candy." Your eyes open and you gasp. "Laffy taffy? But you can only get this-"

"In the states," He finishes. “I got as much as the store had.” The chewy, fruity candy was your absolute favorite and every once in a while you craved it. His backpack was currently stuffed full of it and various other packages of sweets, having been collected at every gp he had been to since Austin.

You tear into the package and dig for a pink one. You hold it out to him triumphantly and somehow, it’s that simple gesture that makes him melt. “You like the strawberry ones don’t you?”

“Yes baby, I do.” He lets you pop the sweet in his mouth - Pyry would certainly not approve- and grins at you. “If you eat too many before bed you won’t be able to sleep.”

“It’s still early,” you point out but don’t hesitate to set the sweets aside and cuddle up to him when he lays back. “Got somewhere to be?”

“I have to be at Milton by eight,” he says, wrapping an arm around your middle. “But you’re coming with me.”

@seasidetom @flashcal @limp-wrist-max @sunshinesewis @lifeofzoemichael @ninuffi @perfectfantasies22 @lamboleglerg @ladyperceval @0forgottenparadise0 @evie-pr @avsensio @ninuffi @ricciartodododo

If you have asked to be tagged in the past and I missed you I apologize! Just comment below and I’ll get you added for future updates. Thanks for reading ❤

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly fanfiction #pierre gasly x reader #formula 1 #f1 #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fantasy #formula 1 fanfic #my writing #pierre gasly imagine #formula 1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 fantasy #f1 rpf #formula 1 rpf

173 notes · View notes

sh1tbird-shantytown · 3 years

Text

i’ve got a tangent, buckle up. (and yes i know this probably isn’t at all accurate. bite me.)

>>>

Steve didn’t really talk about his family. He left for home at five thirty and spent Sunday’s presumably at church with them, but he never really spoke of them. And no one really minded.

Sure, Billy had asked once or twice if he could meet someone in person. Steve would shrug his shoulders and agree to mention it. No one was very surprised when it never got brought up again. And Steve never relayed a response to his supposed offer.

No one knew what was up. Until The Mishap.

Now, Maxine Mayfield had a tough skin to break through in order to hurt her feelings. It took a lot. But something about the boy was oddly familiar in a sore way. His eyes, she’d consider, they were exactly like someone she knew. Innocent in such a guilty manner and soft even though he spoke with steel. How he stood like he had something to his name and how he only seemed to speak after thinking it through.

So, yeah, it took a lot for Max to get weepy, to get butt-hurt. People like Billy and Steve knew that, threatened to do every form of revenge in the book (although that was mostly Billy by a vast majority). Steve was kinder about it, offered her a quarter for the gum-ball machine and walked with her to calm down.

“What happened today?”

She turned the crank slowly so she could hear all the gears, “Some kid saw my low test score in history and kept making stupid jokes.”

Steve pressed his lips together, “I know that feeling all too well.”

Max looked up before opening the flap for the prize, “Really?”

He grinned, “What? You think I was this cool before puberty?” She rolled her eyes and he laughed quietly, “You just have to learn to make them feel bad about it so they stop.” Max nodded and pulled out a pink ball. “What’s this kid have going on? What’s he dress like, this town acts like there’s factions. Should be pretty easy to find him.”

Max threw the candy in her mouth and spoke around it, “Kind of dirty jeans, expensive shoes, colorful shirts.” She laughed, “He dresses similar to you actually. Isn’t that funny? He has darker hair though, and a bitch personality.” She crunched down on the gum-ball aggressively.

Steve didn’t seem to find it funny at all, in fact his face dropped, “Was his name Troy by chance?”

Max scoffed, “Yeah actually.” She grew worried when Steve still didn’t answer, “Why?”

Steve patted her shoulder and nodded at Billy over at the food counter, “I’ve got to go deal with some stuff. I’ll see you two later tonight!” he jogged out and Max noticed Billy looking a little too disappointed.

Steve did return that evening. To the Mayfield-Hargrove house with a kid towed behind him. Max couldn’t see their face as they hid behind Steve’s back, but she opened the front door before Steve even knocked anyway. Smiled and called for Billy like any other time (she always ignored Neil’s shout for who it was).

Steve crossed his arms, “Bud, you have something to say?” he looked over his shoulder and Troy peaked around hesitantly.

“Common, Stef, I don’t wanna.”

“If you can use your rotten mouth to pick on people than you can apologize too.” When Troy continued to stare at his shoes and Max stood taken aback still, Steve poked at the boy’s head. “I’ll wash your mouth out with soap, don’t think I won’t.”

Troy sighed but looked up, “You’ve been threatening that for years.” Steve narrowed his eyes but stayed silent. Max glowered until he spoke again, “I’m sorry for bullying you and your friends, that was a coward thing to do.” Steve nodded along and Max heard Billy walk up. “I promise not to say anything like that again and I hope you can accept my sincere apology.” Something about the words felt off, scripted. She almost said something until she saw a far away and similarly off-put look to Steve’s eyes. It wasn’t dishonesty, but something different. She didn’t know what, so she locked it away for another discussion.

She regarded him for a long moment, so long that Billy started tapping his foot, “I guess I can agree to that.”

Troy seemed relieved and looked back at Steve, “See? I can be nice.”

Billy stepped closer, “What’s going on?”

Steve looked a little sheepish, “I told him that if he didn’t apologize for being rude to Max than I wasn’t making dinner so,” he spread his arms out like wings, “Here we are.” Billy huffed, agreeable.

Max rose her eyebrows and smirked, “And how do you know him, Steve?”

Troy tried to bite him when Steve whacked his head, “This catastrophe is my little brother.”

“What?”

Billy leaned against the doorframe, “I don’t see it.” Steve smiled at him and Troy’s eyes widened in some sort of realization.

“That’s him?” he asked pointing at Billy (who in turn looked affronted).

Steve rolled his eyes, “I’d rather have a private conversation involving that topic. Later.” Troy continued to stare, bug-eyed at Billy.

Max stepped outside, “Let’s go get ice cream.”

Troy jumped up and tugged at Steve’s reluctant arm, “Good idea! Let’s go, let’s go!”

Steve looked over at Billy, “He’s been, uh, excited to meet the best player on Hawkins’ basketball team.”

Troy made a face, “No, I’ve been waiting to meet your boyf—”

“Later!”

#steve harrington #billy hargrove #troy harrington #steve’s little brother #max mayfield #stranger things #harringrove #billy/steve

55 notes · View notes

yikesharringrove · 4 years

Note

I have a headcanon that Billy doesn"t really know how to apologize like most people do. To him, the words are kind of empty so he just does things for people instead. Things like replacing all of the dishes with better quality ones for the Byers, making the girliest clothes Max hates disappear and replaced with things she likes, a new slingshot showing up in Lucas's locker, breaking into a car to fix it. Steve is weirdly charmed by it.

These may both be you? But here’s a combo since they’re p much the same idea

anonymous asked: Billy has forgotten how to actually connect with people so he shows affection through acts of chaotic good, like planting catnip all over the yard of the lady who allergic for yellomg at Max or breaking into a car so he can fix the engine. Steve figures out Billy is the one doing all these oddly kind things but he is still kind of intimidated by the blonde so instead of thanking him out right he just leaves things like cigarettes and baked good for him in his car. Have fun with that one!

This got pretty long so I put some of it under the cut.

Billy didn’t believe in the words I’m sorry.

They just didn’t make sense to him. He had never heard the words when someone actually meant them, and fuck knows he’s never actually meant those words before.

But that does not mean there aren’t things in his life he regrets.

For example: beating the shit outta Steve Harrington.

He felt like absolute fucking garbage about it.

Harrington hadn’t deserved that shit. Billy was just runnin’ hot that night, and Harrington had been unlucky enough to have bad timing.

But he didn’t know how to fix it.

So he started leaving snacks in Steve’s locker.

He noticed how he would always be giving his friends the food off his fucking plate, so he would shove granola bars, candies, even made him a sandwich one day.

He watched as Steve would eat whatever it was Billy had left for him, just fuckin’ chowed down without question.

He would look into classes, find out where Steve sat and leave little treats on his desk.

“Mr. Harrington, I think you may have a secret admirer.” Steve flushed a little at the cupcake, and shoved it into his mouth in two bites at the beginning of history class, but he wasn’t gonna look a gift horse in the mouth, so to speak, and figured whenever this chick came forward, he would thank her for being so thoughtful, and let her down gently.

After leaving Harrington alone with all his snacks, Billy set his sights on his other regret.

He had Max hadn’t always fought and bickered. True, Billy wasn’t the warmest, when they first met, but once he got his car they would drive around together a lot. He’d take her to the arcade and the boardwalk. They both didn’t like being home too much.

So when Billy’s informed he’ll be watching Max for the weekend while Neil takes Susan to the city, he forms a little plan.

There’s one Chinese restaurant in Hawkins. It’s totally not authentic, not like the dim sum they used to get wandering around San Fransisco, but they had steamed pork buns and Billy picked up eight.

He let Max do whatever she wanted that weekend, figured they would have better luck with one another if they both acted like outdoor cats, coming and going as they pleased, but come Sunday evening, all the pork buns were gone, and there was an unopened pack of cigarettes on his nightstand.

Regret number three: Lucas Sinclair.

Billy probably felt the most fucked up over this kid.

He’d gone after him, a fucking child, in his blind rage.

He had figured that out when he came to on the floor of that weird house, sitting up empty and alone, realizing I’m just like Neil.

He had seen all those kids with their nerdy toys, went out to RadioShack, early Sunday morning, leaving with a light wallet and a new idea.

Dustin was arguing with Mike over the realism of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, like there was anything realistic about it.

Lucas rolled his eyes, opening his locker, his mouth dropping open when he saw something inside.

He pulled the bag out, peering inside.

There were six brand new walkie talkies inside.

They were better than the ones they already used, had further range and more channels.

Everyone went silent.

“Um, these aren’t mine.”

Max’s eyes went wide. She snatched something up from the top shelf of Lucas’s locker.

The new Wrist Rocket had a note attached to it. She knows this handwriting, but couldn’t place it.

Enjoy the new gear. Don’t quit saving the world.

“Do you think they’re from Steve?”Max furrowed her brows at the note.

And then everything clunked into place.

“Maybe.”

The boys were tearing into the new walkies.

She got two cokes from the vending machine at lunch, handing one quietly to Billy when she got in his car after school.

Billy doesn’t really know what he’s doing here.

He had driven Max to one of her nerdy little friend’s houses, and somehow he got roped into staying? He doesn’t even remember.

But now he’s standing with a short kind woman, in the exact kitchen he beat the shit out of Harrington in, with Steve himself leaning against the other wall, watching the kids like some kinda hawk.

Billy’s hands were shaky, and he inserted himself into washing dishes from dinner.

He noticed most of them had chips, and all of them were mismatched. He put them away quietly, and drove to the nearest home goods store he could find.

Ceramic plates didn’t run too much, and he got a nice set of three different sizes, twelve plates of each size, light blue like the one he broke.

He left them on the porch, parked his car down the road a ways.

He rang the doorbell, sprinting and diving into the bushes before anyone can see him.

He watched as one of the sons, the one his age, the one in his English literature class, opened the door, his brow furrowing at the box of new plates.

“Um, Mom? Somebody left us a set of plates?”

He closed the door, but the took the plates with him.

Billy was sitting on the lawn, had just finished raking up all the damn leaves, and was taking a well-earned smoke break as he watched Max skating up and down the street, practicing her kickflips and ollies.

She cut into the driveway across the street, the only one on the entire block that was well paved, no cracks in the cement.

“Get out of here!” Max started as Mrs. Reynolds, a mean old woman was shouting through her screen door. “You little hooligan! You’re going to leave marks!”

Max bit her lip, trying not to laugh as she boarded back over to their house, standing next to Billy.

“I’ll be having a word with your father!” She rolled her eyes as Billy ground his jaw.

Cat nip was way more expensive than Billy was expecting, but he bought plenty of packages, returning home just past sunset.

He waited until about three in the morning, when Mrs. Reynolds’ sprinklers had finally turned back off before he climbed out his window, spreading the cat nip through her yard.

He flipped her house the bird.

Max was awed at the cats the next morning as Billy drove them both to school.

There must’ve been at least a hundred.

“Isn’t Mrs. Reynolds allergic?” Billy tried not to laugh.

“Damn. That sucks for her.”

Billy was sitting on the hood of his car, reading one of his lit books while he waited for Max to get out of her nerd club.

He startled a little bit when someone knocked on the hood.

And it was Harrington, smiling sheepishly at Billy.

“The Byers got some new plates last night. You know anything about that?” Billy tracked the thin scar on Steve’s head. It disappeared into his hairline. Billy wonders how long he had sat in front of a mirror, picking glass out of his thick hair.

“Who’re the Byers?” Steve huffed a laugh.

Max was standing in front of the mirror looking like a grumpy old cat.

Susan had bought her a lovely new dress, and Max fucking hated it. Susan was fussing over it, saying I ordered it from the Sears catalog! and can you believe it was only fifteen dollars?

Billy slipped a five and a ten into Susan’s purse later that day, taking the dress to the Goodwill downtown.

He found Max a couple crappy t-shirts there, bands she would hum to on the radio, shit like Journey and Foreigner, and slid them into her closet where the dress used to be.

She wore one the next day, blinking slowly at him over breakfast.

He avoided all eye contact.

Steve has long legs.

this was of course something Billy always knew, but watching him stalk in all his righteous fury down the street towards the high school really solidified that fact for Billy.

He was stomping, his strides long as he hustled to class. Billy thought about offering him a ride, didn’t think they were there yet.

Billy found himself in Steve’s driveway later that night, popping the hood of Steve’s dead car and searching over everything with a flashlight.

Billy rolled his eyes.

Steve had probably always paid someone else when his car broke down, didn’t realize if your oil was low, your car wouldn’t work.

Billy kept a few cans in his trunk, refilled the bad boy for Steve, making sure that was it.

He found nothing else wrong and Steve pulled into the school parking lot the next morning.

Billy could feel Steve staring at him when he walked into school.

He found Steve sitting on his car at lunch, holding the sandwich Billy had snuck into his locker, and a loaf of bread wrapped in cling film. .

Billy raised an eyebrow.

“I saw you last night.” His cheeks went hot. “Thanks for fixing my car. And all the snacks and stuff. And for the Byers’ plates. And for all the stuff with Max.”

“Nothin’s happened with Max.” Steve appraised him for a moment.

“She said you’re being nicer.” He held up the bread. “Homemade banana bread. Made it while you were being not at all stealthy fixing my car.” He smiled at Billy, one a’ those perfect sunshine smiles Billy had only ever seen Steve direct towards his kids.

“I just changed your oil. Car won’t run if you don’t got oil.” Steve furrowed his brow.

“My gas tank was full. I had just filled it.”

“Nah Pretty Boy, oil. It’s different.” And Billy took a deep breath. “Could show you, if you like. Teach you some basic car shit. How to jump, how to change a tire.”

Steve beamed at him.

“I’d like that! I don’t know shit about fixing cars. Always figured it would go way over my head.”

“It’s pretty easy. There’s usually only a few major things that go wrong in nice cars that are easy fixes. You’ll figure it out quick.” Steve slid off his car, and Billy lamented that for a minute, liked how Steve looked perched on Billy’s car, wondered how he’d look in the passenger seat, in the backseat-

Steve pushed the bread into Billy’s hands.

“Y’know, I forgive you. For that night.” Billy tightened his jaw. Steve’s eyes were a little green in the sun. “There was a lot goin’ on, and I was being sketchy. I don’t hold it against you.”

“I, uh, thanks, I guess. I’m sorry, about it.” Steve smiled at him again, the corners of his eyes crinkling just a bit.

“Yeah, I know.” Steve took a bite of his sandwich, his cheeks all cute and full. “And I’m more of a ham and cheese fan.” Billy rolled his eyes at Steve, taking with his mouth full of turkey sandwich.

“Sorry man, you get what Susan buys.” Steve laughed, his mouth still full. Billy was uncomfortably endeared by it.

“Don’t be surprised to find some lasagna on your porch one night soon.” And Steve winked at him, walking backwards towards the school. “You’re not so bad, Billy.”

“Tryin’ not to be.” Steve gave him a stupid little finger gun. Billy’s heart melted.

“You’re doin’ a good job.” And Steve set off back into the school.

#yikes writes #steve harrington #billy hargrove #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #harringrove #harringrove fic #harringrove ficlet #harringrove drabble

957 notes · View notes

integra1127grimmreaper · 3 years

Text

You Just Don’t Know It Yet - chapter twenty

Series Masterlist

Cht 19

Warning: Mild angst, verbal abuse

The entire day of Sunday, Max had been trying to get in touch with Y/N over the phone. Wanting to know by which time she would be arriving back home, but she never responded back to his text messages nor answered his calls.

Feeling a bit concerned about it all, Max decides to go downstairs to his office and wait for Y/N to arrive. Max had been sitting for hours in the office; vigilantly watching the security cameras to see for Y/N's arrival, yet there was no sign of her.

On the verge of complete panic that something might have happened to Y/N, Max tries calling her phone again and yet again there's no answer.

Deciding to take a chance, Max goes to Y/N's apartment. He knocks continuedly for a while but there's no answer, Max then decides to sends her a text "Hi. Are you ok? When are you coming home?" and yet again, no respond.

With a heavy heart, Max makes his way to his apartment in defeat. Max sits in the darkness of his bedroom for hours, his mind racing with fear that something might have happened to Y/N.

Checking the time, Max sees that it was already after midnight, not able to handle the uneasiness of not knowing what was happening; he decides to go to Y/N's apartment via the passages and check to see if she was home already.

Max silently enters Y/N's apartment, making his way directly for her bedroom. Upon entering it, Max is surprised to see Y/N fast asleep in bed. Max stands over the bed, longingly staring at Y/N as she sleeps; blissfully unaware that there was someone in her bedroom.

Crouching down beside the bed, Max notices the pill bottle on the nightstand; indicating that Y/N had taken her sleeping pills. Having missed Y/N so much and the feeling of having her in his arms, Max removes his shoes and then proceeds to get into the bed with her.

Gently turning Y/N onto her side, Max settles in behind her; pulling her flush up against his front. Max begins to suddenly panic when Y/N shifts in her sleep, letting out a soft moan as she settles back down. Letting out a silent breath of relief, Max settles in to take a short nap with Y/N.

Max wakes up a few hours lately and silently sneaks out of the apartment before Y/N wakes up.

The Next Day

Waking up from a deep sleep, you turn and bury your face into the pillow next to you. Inhaling a deep breath; you suddenly pause, lifting your head to stare at the pillow in confusion. Bending your head towards the pillow to smell it again, you're struck by a strangely familiar scent.

It was the exact same scent you smelt in your bedroom one morning awhile back; a sandalwood like male scent. You had a gut feeling that somehow you know that smell, yet couldn't pinpoint it.

Deciding to not bother any further with the mysterious scent, you go and get ready for work instead.

"Good morning Sugar-tot..." John greets as you enter the bookstore. "Morning Jelly-bean-" you greet back less enthusiastic.

"Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed. Did Max forget to put sugar on your cornflakes this morning or what-" John jokes. "Urgh... Don't even go there-" you groan out.

"What happened? John looks at you concerningly. "Oh, nothing much... Came home early Saturday evening and had a big surprise waiting for me-" you state.

"Cool. So, Max had a welcome back surprise for you." John smiles at you. "Yeah, he did. He and Juliet making out in the corridor-" you grumble in response.

"What the hell did you just say-" John stares at you in shock. "That was it. That was the surprise I got when I enter the hallway." You dryly remark.

"I hope you confronted their sorry asses!" John states. "Nah, they don't even know I saw them. I got out of there before they could see me." You comment.

"I really don't want to talk about it anymore. So, can we just move on and start our day-" you request of John.

Later That Afternoon

You were busy at the front of the store; rearranging a display when the front door announced someone's entrance. Looking up towards it, you refrain from rolling your eyes when you see it was Max that had entered the store.

"Hey-" Max tips down to kiss you but you turn your face away. "Is everything ok?" he looks slightly confused at your reaction.

"John, we're going to the back to talk a bit" you inform your colleague.

"I waited for you Sunday, and tried contacting you multiple times as well. Is everything ok? Are you ok?" Max starts rambling once you guys enter the storeroom.

"I came home early. I'm ok." You tell him. "Early?" Max enquires confused.

"Yeah, the workshop ended early, so they let us come home the Saturday" you calmly inform him.

"The Saturday? Why didn't you let me know? Max looks at you even more confused than before.

"I wanted to surprise you-" you look up into his confused childlike eyes. "I don't understand... if you were home, why didn't you answer my messages and calls." Max tries to reach out and touch you, but you take a step back.

"What's wrong? Why are you acting so weird?" Max concerningly asks.

Taking a deep breath, you look him directly in the eyes "Max, I think it's bests if we stopped seeing each other."

"What? Why? Did I do something wrong?" Max stares at you like a frighten child. "Things just aren't working out Max-" you sigh out in response.

"I don't understand this... we were perfectly fine up until you left on that business trip. Did you meet someone else?" Max tries to make sense of what was happening.

"No, there isn't anyone else, at least not on my side-" you comment. "What do you mean by that?" Max seems at a lost.

"You clearly haven't gotten over Juliet yet Max-" you look him dead in the eyes. "What are you talking about? I'm no longer interested in her. You're the one I want to be with-" Max declares, confused at where this was coming from.

"Then why did I see you guys kissing in the hallway Saturday evening when I came home-" you whisper out, tears starting to run down your cheeks.

"It's not what you thi-" Max tries to explain, but you cut him off by raising your hand "Max, I honestly don't want to hear it. Now, can you please leave and don't worry... I understand-"

"No, you have to listen to me please-" Max tries to reason with you. "If you won't leave, then I will-" you remark, rushing out of the storeroom in a fit of tears.

"No! Wait! Y/N, please- don't leave me..." Max sobs out in despair.

"Where have you been!" August yells at Max once he enters the apartment. "I went to go see Y/N" Max mumbles, eyes cast downwards.

"I don't know what that girl sees in you. She's such a lovely girl, perfect wife material. Too good for the likes of you." August sneers at Max in disgusts.

"Doesn't really matter anymore, because she broke up with me-" Max grumble under his breathe.

"Hahaha. Did I just hear you correctly?! She kicked you to the curb?!" August bursts out laughing.

"August, please don't-" Max tearfully pleads with him.

"What, can't you handle the truth. That no real woman in her right mind would want you. You're nothing but a weak, pathetic, pervert!" August drills into him.

Reaching up to cover his ears, "August, please- just- stop-" Max begs, turning away then after to go to his room in order to get away from him.

August then grabs hold of Max's arm "Where are you running off to, you wimp!"

Not wanting to remain in August's presence any longer, Max yanks his arm back and rushes towards his bedroom. Not noticing August had fallen down after losing his balance, knocking his head against the nearby table edge.

NXT CHT

tag: @iluvneganandjamie @purple-serenity

#MAX #max x reader #The Resident movie #Jeffrey Dean Morgan #max x y/n #JDM

22 notes · View notes

twinkleallnight · 3 years

Text

Love, success and women

Wishing all a Happy women's day!

Book: The Royal Romance AU

Pairing: Drake x Olivia, Leo x Madeleine, Liam x Riley, Maxwell x Hana.

Word count: 1121

Disclaimer: All characters belong to pixelberry.

Rating: Teen

Prompt: I am participating in @choicesficwriterscreations day8 and @sunday-romance in bold.

Song inspiration: Words (Boyzone)

“Olivia?” Riley tried to gain her attention from the paperwork she was busy with.

“Hmm?” Olivia continued looking into the papers she was holding.

Riley knew she had to be point blank to get Olivia speaking. “Why don’t you give Drake a chance?”

“For what?” Olivia shut the File she was working on with a snap. At the very next moment she regretted showing her reactions openly on the mention of Drake’s name.

“To be with you.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“How long are you going to try hiding your feelings for him?”

“There is nothing to hide.”

“Is it because he is just a common man and you are the Duchess? Or Is it because he doesn’t have much to give to the Duchess?”

“Who is falling short of things to give?” Hana entered in with Madeleine, bubbling in excitement.

Olivia took a sigh of relief. She knew, Riley won’t question her in presence of the other two ladies. The ladies sat around the coffee table.

Madeleine placed the special edition of Trendz, on the table, that featured the four of them on occasion of the International women’s day.

Riley squealed with delight, “Look at that. This looks great! Anna de Luca deserves a note of thanks for such a lovely editorial.”

“She surely does. She has placed our interviews verbatim. No editor’s cut. The message we wanted to send across to the women of Cordonia is printed very clear.” Madeleine informed.

“Even the gossip part?” Hana enquired.

“Not all, luckily I was spared. All those questions she asked me about Leo’s abdication and then us getting back together and getting married. She didn’t include them. I think she reserved them for her own curiosity.” Madeleine beamed.

“That means I am the gossip.” Olivia remembered how she was interrogated for being the only spinster in the group, and her plans to get married.

“She does mention that the Lythikans wait for the special someone in their Duchess' life.” Madeleine feeds in.

“I don’t care.” Olivia made it little by ignoring it again.

Madeleine reads out aloud the headlines. ‘The success stories of the powerful ladies at the royal court of Cordonia. Meet Lady Hana from the house of Beaumont who excels in performing arts. Countess Madeleine Amaranth- Rhys, an eminent name in the field of Cordonian history and civil law. Duchess Olivia Nevrakis, who defines self defense and security and Queen Riley Rhys- the force behind it all.’

“Kudos to us girls” Olivia said as Madeleine shared a hi-five. But that wasn’t enough for Riley.

“Time for a group hug!” Riley screamed and pulled Hana too with the other two ladies.

For next hour the ladies sat together flipping through the pages of the magazine, discussing what was written about their new project, what the impact will be on the people and what steps they have to take for further progress.

After sometime, Madeleine peered at her watch, “ It’s time to go.”

“Where?” questioned Olivia.

“Madeleine’s place “ Hana perked up.

“ You knew?” Madeleine looked at Hana with surprise.

“You know how Max is, he can’t keep anything to himself for long. “ Hana smiled.

“what is it?” It was Riley, puzzled this time.

Madeleine explained. “Leo wants to give the ‘women’, she air quoted, “ a treat. He requested us all to be there after our meeting.”

“And you don’t know what his plans are?” Olivia asked again.

“ No, except that he wanted to do some celebration.”

“ So I will see you all later, then.” Olivia got up to leave.

“Oh no, no, no, You are coming with us.” Riley grabbed her hand and pulled her back to the seating.

“What will I do there?”

“Experience the love my dear! May be it will help you decide.” Riley winked.

Hana and Madeleine nodded with knowing smiles.

Leo and Madeleine had made their humble home in a penthouse in the Capitol. Madeleine’s taste of green and gold reflected through the walls and drapes.

Leo was on his toes, serving his guests and making their day more special for them. Madeleine was moving with him in tandem.

The ladies were treated with drinks of their choice. And then she saw all the men looking at each other as if on cue. They raised a toast for their successful wives. Madeleine stood wrapped in Leo’s arms as he gazed down at her proudly.

Max had Hana’s back flushed to his chest. His chin rested on her shoulder. He kept peppering her with kisses.

Liam sat cosily with his queen on the couch, whispering sweet nothings that made her giggle every now and then.

Olivia was perched on the side chair. She kept looking at them. What could she say? Love is in the air. ‘I wish Drake was here too. I could have used some company.’ On the second thought she straightened up, ‘Not really, I have myself and what’s better than that?’ Now, Olivia was thankful that Drake wasn’t here. She couldn’t imagine such display of affections. Plus they were not married like others. Forget about marriage, she wasn’t even in relation with him. Was she? She shunned away her confusing thoughts. With him, it was never easy. With him, she would never know. They both were alike. They never spoke about their feelings.

She tried to focus on Leo’s speech, that she had missed out already as he concluded.

“...To many more such successful stories! This is for you Maddie. Olivia rolled her eyes, when she heard Leo start crooning but Madeleine was swaying with a broad smile.

“Smile, an everlasting smile.

A smile can bring you near to me.”

Max spread out his arms around Hana, as he sang next,

“ Don’t ever let me find you gone

Cause that will bring a tear to me.”

Liam took the next turn,

“This world has lost its glory,

Let’s start a brand new story, now,

My love.”

Leo and Max chorused

“ You think that I don’t even mean

A single word I say…”

And then there was complete silence. Olivia suddenly realised that all eyes were on her. No, behind her!

She turned with a jerk to find a bunch of her favourite Gladioli and those brown eyes peeping over them. Her heart beat raised. ‘No this can’t be real!’ she thought.

As if reading her thoughts, Drake dropped down in front of her, to hold her hand, to make her feel the warmth of his skin, to tell her that he was real. And then he broke the silence with his husky voice finishing the melody.

“Its only Words and Words are all I have,

To take your heart away.”

Tags: @annekebbphotography @alj4890 @anjanettexcordonia @bascmve01 @charlotteg234 @choicesficwriterscreations @cordonia-gothqueen @drakewalker04 @eadanga @gkittylove99 @glaimtruelovealways @krsnlove @hopefulmoonobject @indiacater @jessiembruno @kat-tia801 @kingliam2019 @shewillreadyou @lisha1valecha @mainstreetreader @neotericthemis @ntoraplayschoices @princess-geek @princessleac1 @secretaryunpaid @sirbeepsalot @speedyoperarascalparty @texaskitten30 @txemrn @sfb123 @sweatyrysconnoisseur @theroyalheirshadowhunter @aestheticartsx @yourmajesty09 @efecom @grsarco-blog @lovelyladyk88

#sundaylove #pixelberry #the royal romance #playchoices #trr #trr fandom #drake walker #twinkleallnight #olivia nevrakis #hana lee #king liam #cfwc female characters

104 notes · View notes

cafedanslanuit · 4 years

Text

♡ f l u f f v e m b e r 2 0 2 0 ♡

♡ week one — kageyama tobio | long-distance relationship

♡ summary — getting into a relationship with kageyama was close to impossible, that you knew. nevertheless, that didn’t stop you from developing feelings for him and eventually becoming more than friends. he was constantly training and didn’t have a lot of time to spend by your side, but once kageyama found himself remembering your laugh on his way home, he decided to do whatever it took to make the relationship work.

♡ playlist

the moon song - beabadoobee & oscar lang home - bruno major blueberry eyes - max & suga

♡ masterlist ♡

Every morning, Kageyama wakes up at the same hour. He puts on his running shoes, grabs his phone, keys and earphones and hits the streets. It’s been his routine since he started playing volleyball. While he ran, Kageyama preferred to keep his mind focused in his steps, the weight he was putting on his heels and toes, his heart rhythm and his mind replaying the sets he had done the day before. He didn’t see running as something he did before he trained, but as part of the training itself. Kageyama was very adamant against listening to music or a podcast during his morning runs.

Everything changed after he met you.

Kageyama puts on his earphones and goes through his mail inbox. Like most days, he sees your name on his most recent unopened email. He downloads the audio attachment and presses play before shoving his phone back to his pocket.

“Good morning Tobio!”

His lip twitches upward.

“So, you must be sleeping right now. Which sucks! Because I just got home from work. Yes, I got safe, don’t worry. Mika and her boyfriend dropped me at my place right now. Remember Mika, my coworker? Yeah. Hey boyfriend always picks her up when we have shifts until one in the morning and they drive me home. I’m kind of tired right now.”

Kageyama hears a long yawn on your side, followed by a thud that he imagines it’s you laying on your bed.

“Let me put on some music,” you say, and a few seconds later he listens to a tune he thinks he’s heard before. “Today’s classes were just okay. I got a grade back but it wasn’t what I expected.”

“But, what can you do?” Kageyama mouths along with your voice.

“Work was also okay. Mika and I spent most of the night talking, she had had a small fight with her boyfriend and asked me for advice. It wasn’t really a big thing, you see…”

The next few minutes, Kageyama listens to you ramble about your friend and her boyfriend, but he has to admit he is paying more attention to your voice than what you were saying. He imagines himself watching you talk and the expressions he had seen you make the first time he had seen you. The tip of your tongue sticking out between your teeth after you laughed at something you shouldn’t have laughed about, the slight pout on your lips as you talked about something you didn’t like or the attentive way your eyes fixated on him while he talked about volleyball.

“Anyway, I know you don’t really care about this,” you say. “But it’s really nice to imagine you listening to me talk during your morning runs. Is it already cold there? I hope you put something on if it is. Not trying to tell you what to do. I know you, more than anyone, take your health very seriously, but I guess I can’t help but worry,” you chuckle. You stay quiet for a moment, and Kageyama basks in the comfort your silence provides.

His mind goes back to those Sunday nights when he’s watching past games on his laptop while he’s face timing with you. You are usually taking a cup of coffee, trying to forget you’ve only slept five hours after getting home from your shift at the bar. You know he has to get to bed in a couple of hours so he can get enough rest for this Monday practice, so you treasure those small moments when the time difference and both your busy schedules let you share a moment. Kageyama’s eyes are fixated on his laptop and you take the opportunity to revise some of your lessons, most of the time finding out there was a paper due next week you had forgotten about.

Every once in a while you take a look at your phone and see Kageyama’s dark eyes glued to his laptop. You bury your nose on the Schweiden Adlers hoodie he sent you last month and even if your boyfriend’s smell has almost completely worn off, you still find comfort in wearing his clothes.

When Kageyama comes back to his house to get ready for training, your voice is no longer in his ears. You always made sure not to surpass the usual time he spends running. He takes a look at the dual clock on his phone and realizes you must be still in class, so he refrains from sending a text and hops on the shower.

The fourteen hour difference between the both of you had seemed like a wall impossible to climb. Not only that but his intense training schedule plus your uni classes and your part time job also took most of your energy and it was a rare occurrence that you could sit in front of a computer at the same time.

But the connection was something he had never experienced before. He had been invited to a foreign university overseas for a tournament. The day before it started, the team had gone to the campus to get to know the facilities, and after they were done, Kageyama had left them to buy something to drink from a vending machine. Not being able to find any, he asked for directions and took the elevator to the cafeteria, not noticing someone carrying a couple of books under their arms standing next to him.

Now it seemed almost fate to remember how the elevator malfunctioned and he had to spend the next two hours with you. After pressing the Emergency button and being told it would be a while, you introduced yourself with a smile. He wasn’t really enthusiastic about getting to know each other but it all changed after he mentioned he was there because of a volleyball tournament. Kageyama can still remember your eyes widening and the questions that followed, all centered about his true passion. A few minutes later, you were sitting on the floor of the elevator, while he explained in broken English every position in volleyball and what they were supposed to do. Even though you hadn’t played any sports seriously outside of school, the fact this guy was talented enough to get invited overseas to play had spiked your attention, and you asked question after question so you could understand more about volleyball.

“So the setter is basically the key player, right?” you had asked, while he scribbled on the notebook you had lent him so he could explain.

Kageyama tried not to smile. He really did.

After you asked him about the tournament schedule and wrote down the name of his team, you promised you would do your best to make it to the game. Kageyama had never really cared about people coming to his games to watch but, once he had won the first game as was leaving the court, his eyes unexpectedly met yours and he saw you waving at him for the bleachers with a smile. He nodded at you and as he disappeared through the gym door he thought maybe someone going to see his games wasn’t so bad.

One week later, Kageyama’s team had won the tournament, and since you had asked for his number while waiting inside the elevator, you offered to buy him something from the cafeteria after the final match. This time, he took the time to listen to you ramble about your career, and how enthusiastic you were about it. He didn’t understand most of the things you talked about, most of your words sounding foreign and new to him. But the one detail he did recognize at first glance was the way your pupils dilated while you spoke. Your hands moved faster than usual as you tried to explain, and you even used the salt shaker on the table as a prop to help you out. The glimmer in your eyes was the same nature as the burn he used to feel in his chest whenever he talked about volleyball. You promised to stay in contact and gave him a small but tight hug when it was his time to leave. He hoped you didn’t notice the pink tint on his cheeks before you went away.

Your love confession came two months after he was back in Japan, followed by the longest and hardest conversation the two of you had ever had. He explained his strict training schedule and you talked about your university increasing the hardness of the classes you took and how little time you had left. A long silence filled the room, and you realized maybe you should have kept the confession to yourself. It was never going to work. There were too many impediments so maybe it would have been better to push down whatever you felt. In the end, you two weren’t supposed to meet and--

“I’d like to try it.”

You can still remember the blush on his cheeks and furrowed eyebrows after blurting out those words. You smiled brightly at him and nodded, enthusiastically.

“I’d like to try too.”

It had been one year and six months since then. To find someone who not only understood his crazy schedule but was passionate about their own work felt surreal to Kageyama. Your plan was to finish your career in your home country and then move to Japan. You had been auditing the Japanese classes at your uni and taking a part time job to be able to support yourself as you settled in a new country. All of those changes meant less time to be able to talk with Kageyama as much as you did before. He assured you he understood, even if he would never admit out loud he missed you as well.

The situation prompted you to find other ways to feel close to him, hence why Kageyama woke up almost every day with a new audio file from you. You went from talking about your day to making him listen to music and even took the chance to practice your japanese. His English listening skills had also gotten better in the past year, all thanks to talking with you and how you would slow down your pace and repeat yourself if he ever needed to. While you recorded your audios after work, he usually recorded his after practice while he walked home from practice. Even if he was always a little worried about the length, you always made sure to send him messages about how happy you were to hear his voice while you ate your lunch or walked to your job after your classes.

Kageyama finishes his shower and comes back to his room. He gets ready in less than ten minutes in silence, knowing he doesn’t have any time to spare if he wants to get to the practice in time. Winter break is a month away, and he wants to give his best before he’s forced to step away for a couple of weeks. He has never liked holidays stepping in his routine, but he knows there was nothing he could do but endure and wait for his training to resume.

Before he leaves, Kageyama checks his phone again and opens the newest email.

Congratulations! Your flight booking is confirmed.

Okay, maybe he is looking forward to winter break after all.

#kageyama x reader #haikyuu x reader #fluffvember #fluffvember 2020 #kageyama tobio #kageyama tobio x reader #hq x reader #hq kageyama #kageyama #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #hq!!

207 notes · View notes

mediocre--writing · 3 years

Note

If you would like a harringrove prompt - maybe billy having a hard time on Mother’s Day? He’s probably try and cover it up but truthfully seeing all the cards in the store and dinner discounts etc in the lead up would make him feel sad :(

I’m sure steve would either try to cheer him up or listen to billy and tell him it’s ok he feels like that c:

awww i love this

i fully hc that neil forced susan on billy. made him call her mom when they’d first gotten married, but billy couldn’t.

he felt like it would be betraying his mom. his real mom.

and he can’t hate susan. he really can’t. she didn’t know that his father was an evil child abuser when she married him, but she also didn’t do anything to stop it. ever.

she tried harder to ignore and escape the room then she tried to help billy.

and susan is a good mother. she’s got the backbone of a chocolate eclair, but she cares about max. she even cares about billy to a certain extent.

on his birthday, one of the few days a year his dad decided to give a shit about him and spend (a still small) amount of money on him, susan would make his favorite dinner and bake him a cake.

she’d show some concern if he looked to sad. she had those caring mother eyes but had no real actions to back them up.

billy hated mother’s day with a burning passion. he didn’t want to celebrate it with susan. he wanted to celebrate with his momma.

it’s been close to a year since billy and steve have been dating and they’ve yet to experience a mother’s day together. not that it’s a very important holiday for couples.

but steve’s parents were down for the weekend, and steve was able to spend mother’s day with his own mom.

billy, however, was stuck in his house watching his dad love up on susan while max gave her flowers (that billy paid for).

billy hated mother’s day.

later in the day, when he was able to get out of his house, he headed towards a diner close to the edge of town.

he sat down at one of the stools and waited for someone to come take his order. he looked around the restaurant, at the nice blues and whites and pinks littered around.

the sandwich board by the door caught his eye, it had nice, fancy lettering advertising a discount on your meal if you came with your mom.

billy wanted to leave right then, but a kind lady came up and got his order right then, so he felt it would be rude to leave now.

that was something that reminded him of his mom. how kind she was and how she always sternly, but lovingly, instilled good morals into billy’s head.

she would’ve been so disappointed in him a year ago, but he thinks if she saw him now, she would be somewhat proud of who he is. he was living life by his rules, not someone else’s.

as he drove back home after sitting in the diner for an hour and a half, re-reading part of a jane austen novel (pride and prejudice: it was his moms favorite).

he drove around backstreets for another hour listening to two of her old cassettes. they weren’t really hers, just the same albums, but they brought nostalgia anyway.

he drove past steve’s house, purely out of habit, before going home. he noticed that the nice, shiny, expensive car that belonged to steve’s dad wasn’t there anymore. just steve’s beemer.

he pulled into the driveway.

steve opened the door before billy turned his car off.

“how did i know you were coming?” steve smiled warmly as billy came to the front door.

“lover’s intuition,” billy teased as they shared a quick peck after shutting the door.

“somethings wrong with you today,” steve said after looking at billy for a moment.

billy’s face contorted into one of disgust and shock, “how—“

“you aren’t really smiling. you’re doing that thing you used to do, when you over smile to make people think you’re happy,”

billy loved steve, he really did, but damn the boy was intuitive.

“it’s mother’s day,”

“yeah, i know. why do you think my parents left at 7pm rather than noon?”

“yeah but, i don’t know,” billy rubbed a hand over his face as he fell into the couch, “i just, i don’t know i miss—“

billy takes a pause as he tries to force the tears back into his eyes with sheer willpower.

“i miss my mom. well, i miss my mom all the time, but mother’s day we would always hang out together. we go to the beach and this diner she loved. my dad always had to work sundays, so it would just be us. he would always bring her a bouquet, though. always yellow tulips. they were her favorite,”

before steve could say anything else, billy was crashing down into his chest, almost knocking steve off his feet.

they moved to sit on the couch, steve against the arm rest with his legs on the cushions, billy laying with his head on steve’s chest and body between his legs.

billy was crying. it was quiet, but billy cried often enough that steve knew what to look for. he wouldn’t look up from steve’s chest and his body was extra still as if that wouldn’t draw attention.

steve let him wallow. rubbed his back and ordered delivery from their favorite place. made sure to be comforting but not to the point of pity, billy hated that.

and every mother’s day after, from now until forever, billy couldn’t go the whole day without crying, but it got less and less extreme so long as steve was there to show him affection and hold him though it.

#stranger things #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #steve x billy #mw harringrove #mediocre—writing

49 notes · View notes

justgillespie · 4 years

Text

Missing (6/?)

Summary: Your next door neighbor, Luke Patterson (a.k.a. your longtime crush) has gone missing, and you think you could help finding him.

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: none!

Author’s note: Hi! So I’m back, and I’ve had a big writer’s block, so that’s why this part is kind of 💩. Anyways, hope you still enjoy!

Part 7

•

Sunday went fine.

You and your family went to church, you had lunch back at your house and then even watched a movie together, before getting everything ready for your sister’s boyfriend’s visit. He came and charmed your parents and yourself. He was very nice and polite. You couldn’t help but be grateful for the fact that he was nice to YOU. Tamra’s other boyfriends were usually indifferent at your presence and some of them would even get bothered by you, which you always thought was ridiculous because you didn’t even talk around them, as Tamra would ask you. And most importantly, he did like dessert. You and Tamra decided to bake Torta Tres Leches (your specialty) and he loved it. And after dinner, he helped you and your sister clean the dishes.

“...We ain’t searching for tomorrow...”

Tyler sang while washing a plate, and you couldn’t hide your surprise.

“You know Sunset Curve?”

Maybe it shouldn’t surprise you that much. They had performed in several places before. Maybe it should surprise you if someone didn’t know them.

“You know them?” He asked smiling.

“The lead singer is our neighbor next door.” Tamra informed him.

“That’s awesome! Could we meet him?” He said with shiny eyes.

“Sure. If he wasn’t missing.” Tamra said, placing the dishes in their place.

“What?” He said, his eyes wide open. “Really? That’s messed up! I know them because they tried to set their stuff in front of the caffe once, a while ago, but my boss kicked them out as soon as he saw them. But they dropped a demo on the sidewalk, I think on purpose, and I took it. I’ve been listening to it nonstop ever since.”

“Would you mind borrowing it to Y/N? She’s trying to reach them to find Luke. Luke’s the lead singer.” Tamra explained.

“Sure, I can give it to you this week.” Tyler said looking at you.

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t think I’m doung that anymore.”

“What? Really?” Tamra asked you. “Why?”

“Long story.” Not really.

Your sister looked like she wanted to insist, so you spoke again.

“I’m telling you about it later.” You rolled your eyes.

Tyler and Tamra kept talking about the band and she told him about the time she saw them playing at the bookclub. You helped them finish cleaning the rest of the dishes, quietly.

“I’m heading up to my room. It was nice meeting you Tyler.” You smiled politely.

“You aren’t watching a movie with us?” He asked, and you shook your head.

“Next time, I promise.”

“Perfect. See you soon, kiddo.”

You said you wouldn’t, but once you got to your room, you couldn’t help to open your window and look at Luke’s room again. Still empty and perfectly cleaned.

What Tamra said got stuck in your head. You started the investigation just four days ago, and you were already giving up.

I wouldn’t say it’s giving up, you thought, it doesn’t make any sense to keep looking for him if he has no plans of coming back.

Maybe there was such thing as too optimistic, after all. You underestimated the situation and expected too much. You didn’t realize how real this was until now. And right then it hit you: this wasn’t a joke. Luke was missing. Kind of. And you were trying to find him?

You must’ve looked ridiculous playing the detective.

You were still starring at the other side of your window when you heard Tamra laying down on your bed, in a jump.

“You didn’t watch the movie?” You asked, finally turning your head to see her.

“No. I told him to go home. It’s pretty late already and he has to work tomorrow.” She responded, looking at the ceiling.

You left your window seat and climbed onto you bed next to her.

“He’s super cool. I like him. Mom and dad did too.”

“Yeah.” You noticed the little smile on her face. “He loved you all too. Especially you. He says you’re adorable.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m only two years younger than you two.”

“Well, say that to him. He told me he’s taking you as his little sister. He’s an only child, by the way.”

“That sounds fun.” You joked and she hit your arm slightly. “I’m just kidding! But I always wanted a big brother, so he’s more than welcome.”

“Hey!��

“I didn’t say I want to change you for him.” You rolled your eyes. “I just want an older brother, that’s all.”

You tried to distract her for a little while, talking about Tyler, but that didn’t work for too long.

“What’s that about you quitting the investigation?” Tamra finally asked, and you sighed.

“That I’m letting the police do their work.”

“But, why?”

“It’s too much. I am just a sixteen year old.”

“You’re just months away from being seventeen.”

“Does that change anything?”

She looked at you carefully. “What happened?”

You shook your head before talking.

“Every time I think or feel I’m closer to find him, turns out I’m only further. Did you know this isn’t a movie? Where everything just comes in hand? Because apparently, I didn’t. And now I’m here.”

Tamra starred at you for a minute. “It’s weird seeing you giving up. You never give up. And you’re always so positive. It makes me crazy sometimes but it’s one of things I appreciate about you.”

It’s not giving up, you wanted to say, but maybe it was.

“But I guess you’re right. You are just a sixteen-almost-seventeen year old. How much could you do?”

She said it on purpose and you knew it. She wanted to get in your head. She just didn’t know she already did.

You just stayed silent.

You did feel bad. You tried not to think too much about it, but you did. You didn’t like the way you just... well, gave up. The way you were so close, and still didn’t get Luke. But it happened. And this wasn’t a game. It was real life.

“Are we not gonna talk about the cute guy that brought you home yesterday?”

Your thoughts fade away when Tamra spoke again after a while.

“Josh?”

“That’s his name? I didn’t remember. But, yeah, him I guess.”

“He asked me out. And I said yes.”

“Really?” She raised an eyebrow at you. “So you’re planning on dating him or...?”

“I don’t know. Maybe?”

“Maybe is not an answer.”

“Um, yes it is. As in, maybe I will date him. Maybe I will not.”

“The fact that you’re hesitating is a bad sign.”

“I’m just-” You sat in your place. “-not sure. What if I waste this opportunity? I mean, come on. Josh is cute. Really cute. He plays football, likes to read, he’s really sweet and he’s fun to be with. But...”

“He’s not Luke.”

“Yeah, he’s not... wait.” Your heart sank. “What do you mean?!”

Tamra chuckled. “You thought I didn’t notice? You are really obvious.”

“But- how-? What-?” You shook your head, confused.

“I noticed ever since we moved. You were all heart-eyed for him the day him and his family came with those delicious muffins.”

Somehow, you felt a bit relieved. At least she didn’t know you’ve been sort of spying on him.

“Every time he says hi to you, you have a dumb smile on your face. I’d be surprised if he doesn’t know you like him.”

You blushed. You really hoped Tamra was just exaggerating like she usually does.

“I’m surprised you never talked to him, though.” She added.

You just shrugged and didn’t say anything.

“So?!” Tamra asked. “You’re not gonna give me any details?”

“There’s not much to say.” You said. “I have a crush on him even though I don’t actually know him.”

“But you could get to know him. Once he’s back.”

You held back a laugh. If he wants to come back, you couldn’t help thinking.

“If you like him, you should go for it. I mean, I don’t see why not.”

“I don’t know. He makes me feel weird.”

“In a good or bad way?”

“Good way, I guess. But I don’t know how to act about it, you know? I’ve never actually dated anyone. I’ve been living out of crushes my whole life.”

“That’s because you never make time to date anyone.”

“I don’t have, the time to do so. I’m always either at school or dance. And when I’m not, I’m here practicing or doing homework. That’s why I usually bring my friends here instead of actually going out. Yesterday was the first time I went out in a month... What I’m trying to say is that dating is not a priority of mine. I like Luke, but nothing ever happens with him. If things were supposed to happen, they should’ve happened already.”

“But that’s because you don’t make a move.”

“Why can’t he make the first move?”

“Nobody said he can’t. He’s just not doing anything, so maybe you should do it first.”

“Don’t you think that the reason he doesn’t make any moves could be because he’s not interested in me?”

“Do you know that for sure?”

“No, but-“

“Then you will never know.” She sat and faced you. “You’re wasting your time.”

You wanted to disagree, but it was true. Luke wasn’t your first crush, but he was the first boy you’ve ever considered the idea of dating. Or at least you fantasized with that image in your head.

“I’m just saying.” She lifted herself up from your bed and walked to the door. “Didn’t you regret it when you found out he ran away? You’ll have a second chance, but it’s up to you, if you take it or not.”

When Tamra left, you tried to ignore everything she said, because it really was nothing you haven’t thought about already.

A second chance.

That reminded you of the promise you made to Mrs. Patterson.

You told her you would visit her the next day after school, when you found her at church. Mr. Patterson even thanked you personally for doing so, and told him she looked better ever since your first visit. But did you have the heart to tell her you’re not searching for Luke anymore? You weren’t even sure if she actually believed you could find him, but it still didn’t seem easy to tell her that.

•

“Hey.” Max sat next to you in your backyard, later that night.

It was ten thirty, or maybe eleven when you called him, and asked if he could come over.

“Hey. Thank you for coming.”

“Of course.” He said, nudging his elbow against your arm, slightly.

You gave him a smile.

“Sorry for not calling today.” He said and you frowned.

“Why?”

Max’s cheeks went red. “Uh- I don’t know, I just, um-.”

You chuckled. “I’m just kidding. It felt weird for me too. To not talk to you today, I mean.”

He relaxed his face. “Yeah, yeah. I didn’t know if you felt that too.”

“I do. You’re kind of my best friend now.”

He looked surprised to your eyes. Maybe even excited.

“I thought you already had a best friend.”

“Let me guess. You assumed, I had a best friend?” You teased.

He giggled. “Yeah. Exactly.”

“Well, you were wrong.”

You haven’t had a best friend since elementary school. Your old best friend, Ana, moved to another city the year you started middle school, and although you were pretty sociable, you never really found a friendship like hers again. It was tough for you, but you managed to keep going. It wasn’t like you didn’t have friends. But of course, you still felt the need of a solid friendship.

“We’ve known each other for... three months?”

“Two.”

“Just two? Wow.” He shook his head. “It feels like more. We’ve known each other for two months, and I don’t think we’ve talked as much as these last few days. I don’t think I’ve trusted anyone this fast before.”

You chuckled. “Me neither. It feels weird.”

“Yeah. And nice.”

“Yeah.” You looked at him. “I didn’t hear you say it, though.”

He didn’t have to ask to know what you meant.

“Come on. Say it.” You insisted.

“You’re my best friend too.” He rolled his eyes, smiling.

“I thought you already had a best friend.” You joked. But you actually meant it. Unlike you, he had Ian.

For your surprise, he frowned. “Who?”

You looked at him kind of annoyed. “Ian? When I asked you if you had friends, at the library, you said you had Ian.”

“I never said he was my best friend.” He then smiled. “See? You assumed.”

“I’m spending too much time with you.”

He laughed. “Definitely... but, no, Ian isn’t my best friend. We do see each other often, because our parents are close friends. And there’s school too. But we don’t like... I don’t know. Have deep talks? Or anything. What do best friends even do together?”

You laughed.

“We don’t even hang out together at school.” He continued. “He has his own friends.”

“But he went with you to ask more about Luke, the other day.”

“Well, yeah, we trust each other enough to ask favors. That doesn’t mean we’re close.”

You stayed silent, processing everything.

“It makes me feel bad that you don’t know what best friends do.” You then said.

“Thanks?”

“First of all, best friends tell each other everything.”

“Okay...” He nodded, like taking a mental note.

“I’ll go first.” You said. “I’m going out with Josh next Saturday.”

“You what?!”

“Yeah.” You said indifferent. “He kind of asked me out yesterday and I said yes.”

“I’m honestly surprised. I didn’t think he was your type.”

“Who did you think was my type?”

“Well, I don’t know...” He looked up, thinking. “I kind of see you with someone like Luke.”

“Really?” You said. Not really believing it. He had to be teasing. Maybe he knew you have a crush on him too.

“Yeah... actually, yes. It makes sense the more I think about it.”

You shook your head and almost decided to not confront him. But you just said best friends tell each other everything.

“You can say it now.”

“Say what?”

“That you know I like Luke. And tell me I’ve wasted my time, that I should’ve done something before and definitely talk to him once he’s back.”

“Wow, hold on a second.” He frowned and shook his head repeatedly. “You like Luke?!”

“Either you’re too naive or my sister was just exaggerating when she said I was being obvious about my feelings.”

“Honestly? If someone else told me, I wouldn’t have believed it. Man.” He scoffed, amused. “It really is hard to tell when you like someone. You’re just... all yourself with everyone. You don’t give special treats. Maybe Tamra could tell because she knows you better than anyone.”

You considered his theory. Maybe he was right.

“What I said about... about me seeing you with someone like Luke it’s true, though. I just haven’t thought about it until now.”

He laughed and you laughed along with him.

You enjoyed each other’s company in silence for a minute before you spoke again.

“I saw Reggie and Bobby yesterday. At the party.”

And you told him what happened. Maybe it wasn’t much of a surprise, but he was mad.

“Why didn’t you tell me?! I could’ve helped somehow!”

“Max, you were with Aria. I wasn’t going to interrupt.”

“You weren’t going to-.” He ran a hand though his hair, frustrated. “I can’t believe you right now! This was important! I mean, I would’ve get it if you interrupted me for some other stupid reason but this was about Luke! We could’ve found him, we-“

“Did you not just hear me? They wouldn’t say anything, just like you said before.”

“I’ll talk to them. Tomorrow at school-.”

“It wouldn’t make sense. Bobby said Luke needed some time. We don’t know how much time is that but we do know that he’s not planning on coming back soon.”

“But Mrs. Patterson...”

“I told you I sent him a message. With a little bit about everything maybe. Including his family.”

“Yeah, but he’ll think Amy sent him the message.”

“Does it even matter?”

“Well, I thought it would now that I know you like him.”

“The correct answer is, no. It doesn’t matter. The point is for him to know his family is okay. My feelings are not a part of this. Hopefully he’ll talk about it with his pillow and come back sooner than expected. For his parents.”

“...So, is it over? It’s done?”

You knew he meant the investigation, and you didn’t respond right away, trying to come up with something. You found yourself worried he would get mad again. Or reproach you like Tamra did.

“I think... at least for now, yeah. We’re done with that. We got enough information to know there’s really not much we could do.”

Another silence grew between you two.

“Come on.” You said after a while. “Tell me about Aria. How are things going with her?”

He smiled, like he was waiting for you to say that.

Max stayed until the clock ticked 12:48 and he only left because he remembered finals at his school started the next day. That was the reason he didn’t call you the whole day, because he was studying. That made you remember that finals at your own school started the next week. Exams at your dance studio did too.

But you would stress about that later.

Right now, you had a beautiful view above you, and you were willing to enjoy it as long as you could.

•

Taglist: @ifilwtmfc @sovereignparker @catbcyluke @marvelgirl300 @valeriasannchez

#luke patterson x reader #luke patterson #julie and the phantoms x reader #julie and the phantoms

58 notes · View notes

blysse-and-blunder · 3 years

Text

in lieu of a commonplace book gets vaccinated

sunday, may 16, 2021, 8:30pm

guess who got the first round of danger juice this weekend!! at a museum!!

(black sails and mdzs donghua spoilers below the cut)

reading after discussing it a little while ago with @switchoffthestars in the bannel, i got dianna wynne jones’ magicians of caprona on libby this week. it is so refreshing to read a really elegantly, thoughtfully written kid’s book! dwj is so smart! even though the details of this ~italian~ city and its warring factions of magicians does feel, a lot, like the way someone would depict italy if your main points of reference were, say, romeo and juliet. but the song-based magic system and the cats are just so fun. the third-person-limited perspective carefully tailored to the different Montana brothers and varying according to their ages! the chrestomanci of it all! ETA: forgot to mention, that it’s specifically refreshing to read a book like this after some of the novels i’ve been slogging through this spring. because it’s for a younger audience, it’s got different limits to work within, but it achieves an equal or higher level of sophistication in greater economy of language and image. god. the hands of a master.

watching i had season two black sails playing to keep me company yesterday as i finished filing my taxes argh and now that the backstory is really popping off, i can see why people get wound-up about this show. SPOILERS since i was tuning in and out, it just made it even more apparent how much more into the past-storyline, with the hamiltons and the ~scandal~, than i am with the current-storyline!! aside from billy showing back up (SAW THAT COMING) and whatever anne and jack (and max, if only they spent a little more time on her personality!) have going on. if i never see or hear charles fucking vane’s face/voice again, i will be most content.

today after a lovely excursion downtown on my bike to sit in a backyard with some vaccinated pals and bask in the sunshine, i flopped down and watched the mdzs donghua episodes 8-10 or so. SPOILERS i will hand it to this version, the xuanwu combat works so much better as animated here-- the fact that wei wuxian sees the sword in a wound in the xuanwu’s side and reaches for it like that, and then gets swallowed, makes so much more sense than whatever wandering? inside the monster’s shell? that cql makes him do??? (did he crawl up its butt please don’t answer that) seeing lan zhan cry in the cave was...unsettling. but his expression was excellently awful. also it was only during these eps that it occurred to me, is the ‘sun shot’ campaign called that because of wang lingjiao’s ridiculous claim that the poor little jiang boy was trying to ‘shoot down the sun’??? not that anyone believed that, and not that any of the witnesses to her claim survive hahaha oh no but it’s nice to think that whoever picked that name was like ‘actually, you know what?? YEAH WE WILL’

listening it has taken me mumblemumble tries to finish Critical Roll campaign 1 episode 100. not just because it’s a long one-- just, something would come up or i’d lose my place or another ep would start playing (i listened to its talks machina recap before i listened to it, just by lazily letting my phone play ‘the next ep’ and then not...realizing). but i finished it today, and also 101 and its tm. they kept me company on my bike-rides. i like when they laugh. i like when they tease each other, or make absurd jokes and references i get. whatever’s happening in the plot, it’s getting dark, and...that’s really all i absorbed.

playing d&d this week, we made it out of literal hell after exiting the Dantesque inferno we’ve been in for the past couple of weeks. we’re headed into the next underworld tomorrow (Egyptian, i think?) and i think we’re all braced for what could possibly come next. it was a little anticlimactic, we didn’t leave as a result of any combat, but the grinding, punishing details of just progressing through the different circles’ landscapes (the last one had a river of boiling blood and a sky that rained fire, we all had to make con saves) has definitely had their own impact.

making baked biscuits friday morning, the first time i’ve roused ursula the little bear sourdough starter in weeks. they turned out well! decent layers, good flake on the bottoms. a solid bake. nothing else. the repaired soap dispenser has not fallen apart and is happily dispensing soap. feels good.

working on this time next week, i’ll have gone through my field exam. it’s on thursday. i’m meeting with a friend on tuesday afternoon for her to ask me practice questions, and i’m going to spend tomorrow trying to make as many additional notes and annotations to my existing stuff as possible, hopefully organized enough that i’ll be able to quickly find things during the conversation. god willing and the creek don’t rise, this is nearly over!!!

#i think i gave myself a sun/screen/dehydration/prosecco/vaccine headache??#tonight's gonna be one of those melatonin + bed at 10pm evenings i can feel it #i /need/ to find ways to entertain myself that don't exacerbate eye or ear-strain #weekly roundup #in lieu of a commonplace book

13 notes · View notes

thebrownssociety · 3 years

Note

what’s the sibling dynamic between buster and elmyra? since elmer and bugs are married in and the looney tunes cast adopted the tiny toons cast

Thanks for the ask! Sorry it's taken so long, I was trying to tie all the threads together.

So, I'm going to include Babs in this as well, as I headcanon Bugs and Elmer adopted Buster, Babs and Elmyra together.

So to understand this we've got to go back to after Tiny Toons had finished filming in early 1992. By that point the kids were all 5 years old and had basically formed a tight-knit group. They were also at the stage in there development when they were starting to expand a little bit beyond what their official characterisation was.

So, take Montanna Max, for example, although he was still hot-headed, obsessed with money and greedy [and those traits would never go away] he was now learning that his friends [and particularly the adults] weren't going to put up with his screaming at them all day and not sharing anything and that if he wanted to remain friends with them he was going to have to change his behaviour at least a little. The rest of the toons would accept what he was created as, but they wouldn't accept him using that as an excuse to act completely out of order.

Buster and Babs upon finishing filming were both enrolled in a two-year long course which was basically going to help them adjust to not being a protagonist anymore. It's a course that every protagonist of a TV show, or a film, does after the completion of there first show, and it basically helps them come to terms with the fact they are not the centre of the universe. The reason for this is because it's been accepted and realised that it's very hard for a toon who's had there entire show revolve around them to suddenly not have that anymore and be sent out into the world of Toons where most Toons don't care.

As a genreral rule in Toontown, unless you've achieved the fame levels of Bugs Bunny or Mickey Mouse, or are associated with them, no one really cares what film you were in. So Anna and Elsa are treated like goddesses in Toontown because, there film was really successful and they're seen as really good characters, contrast that with Princess Aurora [who's film was a box-office bomb at time of release, I believe] who is more respected and liked because she's royalty and she's really nice than because her film was successful.

In short, unless your film is massively successful at time of release, you're just another toon and the two-year course helps protagonists come to terms with that. There are positives as well, it's not all 'you're nothing now'. The toons work on their individual skills and how they may be transferred to other things. [Babs's impression are so good, for instance, that even if Tiny Toons never got rebooted, she'd still have a really good shot at becoming a Toon Impressionist, if she wanted to. Buster's flexibility and ability to 'read' other people means he'd potentially be good as a nurse/doctor/police officer or just a role that's with the public.]

While Buster and Babs were doing that Elmyra spent time with Bugs and Elmer and practiced her toon powers while benefiting from the individual attention being given by her dads. [Just a note, there is a two-year course for villains as well that was introduced in the 60's that helps them to...not be so villainous, but you have to meet a certain level of 'badness' like Maleficent OR Evil Queen to get in there and - obviously - Elmyra doesn't meet that requirement.]

So, back to the actual ask, Buster, Babs and Elmyra moved into Bugs and Elmer's 5-bedroom mansion shortly after filming ended. It was decided they would each have there own room, which they decorated to there own preferences [Elmyra's is very VERY pink]. So this relieved some tension, because Babs HATED the idea of sharing a room with Elmyra. [Elmyra, for her part, was happy about the idea and cried buckets when she was told it wouldn't be happening.]

At first Buster didn't really get on well with Elmyra at all. Over filming he'd kind of managed to build her up into the 'oh, help me, it's Elmyra' figure, and although he knew she was largely harmless, he still didn't like her. Her 'baby-act' and need to be constantly supervised also grated. This was the same for Babs.

Elmyra, at first, adored the idea of living with Babs and Buster and had visions of dressing them up all day in 'cutesey-wutesey outfits'. It may surprise you to know, that Buster and Babs did not WANT to be dressed up in outfits, cute or otherwise, and had no issue anvilling her to get the point across. This led to tears on Elmyra's part and frustration on Babs and Buster's.

This did eventually mellow out though, due to a couple of things, firstly - Bugs and Elmer's determination to teach Elmyra how to handle her new brother and sister properly [and vice versa for the bunny's]. Secondly - because Elmyra did have regular session with Doctor Scratchensniff every week during which they worked on 'how not to strangle animals when you hug them.' among other things and thirdly because Buster and Babs realised things where not all sunny for Elmyra.

That sounds really ominous, but what I may is that a few of you may have remembered that Elmyra actually had a family when she was on the show. A physical one, not just 'mentioned' parents like Buster. [Babs had a mother who was shown, but Babs's mother is a sufficiently flat characters, that if she doesn't have Babs in the house she assumes she's at school. It doesn't matter whether it's snowing, the middle of the school holidays or the middle of the night, as far as 'Mrs Bunny' is concerned, Babs is at school.]

It was decided after Tiny Toons ended that Elmyra should continue to see her 'designed' family [the family she was designed to have] at the weekends. Friday afternoon she walked home/would be dropped off by someone at her designed parents house and she would stay there until Sunday night until she was returned just after dinner. [So Elmyra would miss dinner with Bugs and co]

This worked for a little while until it got to when Elmyra was going into Grade 1 and Elmer realised she was always doing her homework when she got home. Her parents weren't helping her. In a rather tense conversation he asked Elmyra's designed parents if they would help her do her homework. They promptly replied that the homework was to difficult for 'there little baby' and she should be given something age-appropriate. It was during that discussion that Elmer discovered her 'parents' thought she was 4 years old.

Even by Toon standards, this was a warning flag and Elmer promptly excused himself and ran the conversation by Doctor Scratchensniff because the fact Elmyra's parents didn't seem to recognise the fact that A} her designed age was 12 and B} she was actually 6, not 4 - was concerning to say the least.

Now. Normally D.S. doesn't get involved with this kind of thing because otherwise he'd never do anything else, but as Elmyra was already a patient of his and he decided it wouldn't do Elmer/Bugs any good if they challenged Elmyra's parents themselves, he decided he better have a word with them herself.

He had his word. And they seemed to understand. Scratchy went back to Bugs and Elmer and told them they didn't have to worry, that Elmyra's parents understood her designed age was 12 and that she would get older and mature above that [hopefully]. Bugs and Elmer [particularly Elmer] were suspicious about this at first, but Elmyra came back from her parents having had her homework done and with tales of having done exciting things during the weekend. She was also - they noticed - being given age-appropriate things to play with and this lasted...until she moved up to middle school.

Elmyra moved up to middle school a year after Buster and Babs did, which meant they weren't in the same class. However they were in the same house and it became noticeable that Elmyra didn't seem very happy. Specifically she didn't seem very happy with the idea of going to her parents house at the weekend and was somehow even less happy when she came back.

Bugs and Elmer had noticed this and tried to ask her what was wrong, but she refused to tell them. Buster didn't really want to get involved - he felt it would open a long, emotional conversation he didn't really want to have - but when Elmyra came home one day in tears and he was the only one in the house it fell to him to deal with it.

Turns out Elmyra's parents did not like the fact she was in middle school. They thought the schoolwork she was doing was to advanced for her [it was perfectly acceptable work for her grade and she was doing well with it] and her mother in particular was concerned because Elmyra had started Noticing Boys. This did not fit with the notion they had that she was still a little girl who spoke in a babyish voice and called everything 'cuddly-wuddly' despite the fact that Elmyra herself was doing her best to drop the 'cuddly-wudddly's' [unfortunately she still had to keep the babyish voice] and asking that her parents maybe not buy her games and stuff that were clearly designed for a child under 10.

By this point all this had been going on for a few months. Buster - after calming Elmyra down and running the situation by Hampton - told there dads what was going on with Elmyra and they took matters out of his hands.

Doctor Scratchensniff paid another visit to Elmyra's parents with the intention of explaining to them, gently and tactfully, why they needed to change the way they were treating Elmyra because it was risking damaging her and no one has a clue what was actually said in that meeting, but the end shot was that Elmyra no longer saw her parents on the weekend. She could contact them again at 16 if she wanted to, but until then it was in her best interests to stay away from them.

You all may be wondering why I'm going into so much detail about Elmyra's circumstances, and that's because I feel it's necessary to understand the siblings dynamic. Buster, Babs and Elmyra - up until they were about 11 - only spent Mon-Thurs as a proper group. During that time they anvilled each other, teased each other and tried to actively avoid each other [or rather Buster and Babs tried to actively avoid Elmyra when she was at her most annoying] They also played games together, struggled through school-work together and dealt with there annoying parents together. They became a pretty effective sibling team.

Buster and Babs - despite being created to have a crush on each other - came to view each other as adopted siblings and remained close. They laughed together, joke together and messed with people together.

Babs and Elmyra go shopping together, they talk about stuff together - 'stuff' being the subjects of romances and Life in general that perhaps Buster wouldn't want to be a part off - they get on pretty well actually, mainly because they have a good few things in common and on Elmyra's sensible non-complete-moron days they can even have deep conversations about politics and the world in general as well as analysing TV shows and fangirling over there favourite characters.

Buster and Elmyra are a bit of an odd paring. On Elmyra's smart days the two of them can be quite devious and can throw adults for a loop easily. On her less smart days Buster just tries to stay out her way. The things with Buster and Elmyra is that he basically thought of her as an annoyance for the first 5 years off his life. When he was adopted by Bugs and Elmer and found himself now living with her he was essentially banned from insulting her to harshly. ["No anvilling at the dinner table, Buster!"] But part the issue was that Buster was jealous because Elmyra had another family she got too see and he didn't. He knew that Bugs and Elmer were his official family and it was great to be adopted by his mentor but he couldn't help a pang of envy every time Elmyra got in the car to go to her parents house.

And then the breakdown happened with Elmyra when she was 11 [Buster and Babs knew her parents had had a few problems with her before, but didn't know the exact details, To be fair not even Elmyra herself knew the exact details. Elmer had the conversation away from her and then the rest of it was kept away from her. The only thing she was told was that her parents would now be helping her with homework when she went to them at the weekend.] and Buster realised that Elmyra's home life was not a bed of roses and he made a conscious effort to not be so short with her and to be more patient in the way that Babs seems to be able to do effortlessly. [Babs's realised pretty quickly after they all started living together that Elmyra wasn't going to change and decided that rather than fight it she was just going to embrace it. She was hoping that Elmyra would go away after Babs played 'dress-up' with her, but it just made Elmyra like her more. After a couple of months - and a conversation with Bugs - Babs realised that Elmyra literally just wanted someone to spend time with and dress up. But it was more the spending time than the dressing up that Elmyra liked. They managed to work out a system where Babs would let Elmyra dress her up and do her ears, if Elmyra would give feedback on Babs's impressions and watch comedy tapes with her.]

Going back to Buster, it took a while and, while he and Elmyra are never going to be 'best friends', Buster eventually realised she wasn't that bad and started to enjoy spending time with her.

Elmyra, for her part, has made a conscious effort over the years to not hug her siblings [or any other cute, fluffy creatures for that matter] to tightly, dress them up against their will, or chase them round the earth till they just give up. She still hugs and does like going shopping [or 'grown-up dress up' as Babs calls it] and will chase them to give them a hug if she's having a particularly stupid day or thinks they look upset, but the main thing is that Elmyra is trying.

Very very trying.

#Looney Tunes Headcanons #Looney Tunes #Headcanons #Looney Tunes Ask #Tiny Toons #Elmyra Duff #buster bunny #babs bunny #Sibling relationships #Babs Buster and Elmyra #It was an interesting time for Elmyra really

13 notes · View notes

superw3nch · 4 years

Text

weak and weary | Billy Hargrove

The one where Billy realizes these cold nights in Hawkins aren’t so bad now that he isn’t alone.

Billy’s been going over to Sinclair's house every Sunday for the past month now and for the first time in a long time, Billy has been happy. Like really fucking happy.

He didn’t prance in a prairie happy but he was playing his music a little louder on the way to school happy. Not complain as much when Max asked for a ride somewhere happy, but still, complain a bit because that’s just what he does. He did not give Harrington so much shit at basketball practice happy.

Because for the past month he had something to look forward to every day. And that was Sundays at the Sinclair’s in Charles’ garage fixing up that piece of shit car, even though it was getting better now.

It also meant Charlie.

Seeing her more dinners have become less awkward now and she wasn’t glaring at him the entire time, so he thinks things are going good. Erica was still Erica and gave him shit every time she saw him come through the door. He didn’t really mind, she was a good kid. When she felt like being one.

Lucas was almost as hard to crack as Charlie. He wouldn’t really speak to him at first and Billy was too scared to initiate a conversation, yes scared. He, Billy Hargrove, was scared of the scrawny little 12-year-old boy. Per se.

More like he was scared of the fact that if he did say something and it’ll be the wrong thing then Charlie and her parents would hate him all over again. He couldn’t do that, couldn’t go back to that. Not to Neil and his closed fists, that cold home where his only company was his record player and sometimes Max.

He needed those Sunday nights in that garage to make him feel sane. So one day after school he caught Charlie just as she was about to make her way to Steve’s car. Because she was always with Steve now since Jonathon was always with Nancy. She briefly mentioned that at dinner once and it’s the only reason he even knows it.

“Hey, Charlie.”

She turned towards him and for a second Billy forgot how to breathe. Because now Charlie doesn’t look at him like he’s the devil, but she looks at him like he’s Billy. And sometimes.

“Hey California,” She smiled and Billy really thought he was going to die. Like how does she just do that? How does she just smile at him like that and look at him with those eyes and just give him nicknames like they’ve known each other forever? “Wassup.”

Billy blinked. “I actually need your help with something.” His hands went into the pockets of his pants. “Or like advice really.”

She raised a brow but didn’t say anything which kind of made him nervous, but Charlie always makes him nervous, so. “It’s about Lucas as you know I’m not really the best at talking things out.” She laughed and normally Billy would've been irritated, annoyed even but it’s Charlie. “I just-- how do I get Lucas to not hate me?”

Charlie stared at him for a moment, and he got scared because shit did he say the wrong thing? Did a month's worth or work just go down the drain in a fucking second because he didn’t know how to talk to a goddamn girl?

“I don’t think he hates you,” She finally answered, adjusting the backpack on her shoulders and Billy sent her a spectacle look, she caught it. “Honestly I don't. I just think it’s more of a grudge at this point.”

“A grudge?”

“Yeah you know like when someone beats your score on your favorite game.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

She sighed deeply through her nose. “Walk with me, California.” and he did walk with her from the school to the parking lot. Walked so close their arms brushed and he couldn’t concentrate on anything but that.

“Lucas is a lot like me.” She Continued some of her hair catching in the wind exposing more of her face. “He may forgive but he doesn’t forget and honestly I never thought you would make it this far so that’s saying a lot.” She turned to him and smiled at the last part and he tried not to stare. “Just keep doing what you’re doing I’m sure he’ll come around.”

“It worked on me though,” Charlie pointed out just a hint of a smile playing on her lips as she looked over at him. “That’s gotta count for something.”

“Counts for a lot, Sinclair.”

Charlie smiled like he said the right thing, and he pauses for just a second. Cause no one ever looks at Billy that way. No one ever has a smile, a genuine fucking smile, just for him. It’s always those looks, or sneers, and even snickers. But no one ever fucking smiles at him. But Charlie. And it’s a lot.

They were at his car now and it made Billy frown because that meant Charlie would be leaving. This conversation would be over and he wouldn’t have an excuse to talk to her again until Sunday dinners. And he didn’t know if he could make it all the way till Sunday dinner.

Because those small smiles in the hall weren’t enough anymore. Holding her stupid hand during that prayer wasn’t enough anymore. He needed more. More of her smiles. More of her looks. Just more of her. So.

“Hey what are you doing right now?”

“I-I was going to hang out with Steve,” At the mention of Harrington he had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Because yes of course she would be with fucking Steve. “But I don’t have any plans Friday. If you’re free.”

He was supposed to hang out with Tiffany or Tina, he honestly couldn’t tell them apart. But. “Yeah no, I’m free.” And Billy had to take a chance to process that information, cause really this was a lot. Charlie Sinclair, who rightfully hated him a month ago, had just agreed to hang out with him.

And he wanted to play it off and be the cool guy, like always. But. Billy thinks maybe she would’ve never agreed but for some reason she did. And it meant a lot. A smile was beginning to grow on his face as he looked at the brown girl.

But as quickly as it came it was gone because one loud, alarming honking horn echoed across the parking lot. And Charlie jumped surprised, they both turned to find the source and. Yeah of course it was King Steve sitting in the driver's seat of his car.

“Let’s go, Charlie!” He hollered from his car. “The kids are waiting!”

And Charlie she, gave him this annoyed look. But like the thing is Billy he’s seen that look before. At least he thinks he has maybe once or twice directed at him. Which it shouldn’t even bother him really, but it does. A lot.

“I have to go before he blows a fuse,” Steve honked again, this time longer. Which now was beginning to annoy Billy. For more than one reason. “But can we discuss the finer details later?”

Billy sent a glare at Steve, which he gladly returned. Cause yeah even though Charlie was kinda nice to him now the same feelings didn’t resonate between the boys. Which makes sense cause it’s not like Billy didn’t break a plate over his head.

“Yeah but I don’t have your--”

“I know your number,” Billy gave her a look. “My brother is literally dating your sister.”

And what ?

Yeah, Billy knew that Max was close with that little ragtag team of prepubescent dorks, but dating one of them? It had never come up at any dinners, or maybe it has and he’s just been that checked out at the dinner table. But he feels like that is something he should be at least vaguely aware of.

“Oh god, you didn’t know?” Charlie was laughing now and Billy could not find out what was funny. And Steve wouldn’t stop honking that fucking horn so he couldn’t even think. “Look I will call you tonight, California.”

And that wasn’t fair. She had called him that stupid nickname that makes it hard to breathe and was walking away before he could even get anything out. But Steve was still giving him this smug look. And he was still pissed off about the honking and the look . So.

“I’ll be waiting on your call, Sinclair.” He shouted across the parking lot making sure everyone, mostly Steve, could hear it. And based on the look King Steve was giving him he heard him loud and clear.

Billy smiled. Steve glared. Charlie rolled her eyes.

Billy realizes now that Charlie never told him when she would call him. Just that she would. So because of that Billy has been sitting next to the phone for the past 2 hours waiting on a call from the Sinclair household.

And it's just. How did he fucking get here? How did he turn into the guy who waits by the phone? He was never that guy. But now he’s waiting by the stupid fucking phone, for the stupid girl to call him. To call him. Which is so fucking stupid now that he thinks about it.

And he would’ve just gone into his room and blasted his music like always. But it’s Charlie. So he sat in the living room watching, but not really, tv until he heard the stupid thing ring. And since he's been home it’s only rung twice.

Once for had been a telemarketer which he told to fuck off. And the other had been a friend of Susan’s who had called for the recipe of her broccoli casserole. Which he doesn’t know fucking why compared to anything Mrs. Sincalir cooked she didn’t hold a candle. But Whatever.

Billy sat on the end of the couch, the one closest to the phone, almost asleep really. This was one of the rare few days where Neil wouldn’t be home till around dinner time so the house didn’t feel as oppressive as normal. Meaning Billy didn’t actually have to hide in his room till dinner. He could roam the house without being terrified he’d upset him.

It was nice and Susan wasn’t the worst company. Coming in every once in a while asking him if he wanted any snacks. He’d say no of course but it was a nice gesture he could acknowledge that.

Just then Max came through the front door kicking off her shoes and greeting her mother. The red-haired girl stopped as she saw the sight of Billy on the couch, probably surprised. And Normally Billy wouldn’t even say anything to her, but then he remembered what Charlie had said to him in the parking lot. So when the girl had sat on the other end of the couch. He kinda just blurted it out.

“So you're dating Lucas Sinclair?”

And Billy had to stop himself from laughing, cause Max looked like she was about to burst a blood vessel from how red she was turning. “Who told you?” She hissed sending a look at her Mom who was preparing dinner.

Billy shouldn’t be enjoying this, but he can’t remember that last time he’s seen Max so worked up. “So it’s true then?” He laughed resulting in her throwing a seat cushion at him, he caught it with ease.

“I can’t believe you,” She huffed, arms crossed tight. “How did you even find out?”

Billy shrugged, not really seeing a point in lying. “Charlie told me.”

Max blinked, confused. “Why the hell would Charlie tell you anything?” There was no real malice in her voice, just genuine confusion. He wasn’t offended.

“Don’t worry about it,” Billy Chided. “So you and Lucas. How long have you two been, uh, a thing?”

Now Max was looking at him like he had grown a second head, and Billy couldn’t blame her. He was never the best brother, honestly, he was probably the worst. But he felt like he didn't know, they didn’t have to be total strangers while he was here. He wasn’t expecting Max to answer him; she had no reason to really, but she did.

“Since the Snow Ball,” The small girl confesses never turning to meet Billy’s eyes. “We’ve been dating since then.”

That’s been what a month, little less than that maybe. Billy doesn’t really know. He can’t even remember the last time him and Max had even sat down and talked. It probably was way before that night. Long before they even moved to Hawkins. Billy has never been an active factor in Max’s life, just her chauffeur and not by choice.

They didn’t act the way the Sinclair kids did with one another. They probably never would if he was being honest, but he didn’t like it. He didn’t like feeling like a stranger in his own home.

“Lucas, told me you’ve been coming over for Sunday dinners,” Max spoke after a beat of silence. “He said his Dad really likes you too.”

Billy couldn’t help but smile at that because it was nice to know that everyone could see it too. See how well he and Charles got along and thankfully it all just wasn’t in his head.

“I’m helping him fix up this old car,” Billy shrugged. “Nothing really.”

“Yeah, but why did you go?” Billy turns to look at the girl to find her staring right back at him. And he forgot just how intense this kid could be sometimes. “I mean after what happened with Steve.”

And that was the million-dollar question wasn’t it? Why had Billy Hargrove done the right thing for once in his life? He doesn’t regret it not at all because he loves working on that piece of shit car in the garage. Love those Sunday dinners. Loves not being treated like a burden.

But why?

He could argue that it was the drugs they gave him. Messed him up so bad it made him right. Or he could argue it was being hit in the head with a shotgun so maybe it knocked something back into place because Neil knocked it out of. But the truth. The truth was it was Charlie Sinclair.

The girl had managed to crawl under his skin and press every button he had, and ones he didn’t even know about. In the following weeks of that night, she would look at him. That old look that he has almost forgotten about, but it broke something in him. He doesn’t know what couldn’t even put it into words. But it drove him to her porch that night.

It made him apologize. It made him work.

Now he couldn’t tell Max that because they weren’t there. He wasn’t the best with his words and opening up to his 12-year-old step sister? No, not today. So.

“I was a piece of shit,” Billy explained. “So I apologized.”

That wasn’t enough for the redhead though. But Billy really didn’t feel like having a heart to heart right now so when that phone finally did ring he jumped from the couch. Managing to beat Susan there which she sent him a look cause like, why would he run to the phone? And he didn’t need to look behind him to know what Max was thinking. But the phone was ringing.

Billy ran a hand through his hair and picked it up on the third ring.

“Hargrove residence.”

“Hi I’m calling looking for Billy,” Charlie chorused and Billy could almost picture her smile. “He’s about yeah high. Mullet. Rarely ever in a shirt unless it's about freezing.”

“Very funny, asshole.” She was laughing now and he had to stop himself from smiling cause Max was now openly staring at him from the couch now.

“I know you laughed.” He didn’t but he wanted to. “Also did Max make it home ok?”

Billy turned to look at the said red-headed child, who turned a second too late back to the tv. “Yeah, Max is ok.” He smiled at the back of her head before turning his back. “Why?”

“Nothing just checking,” She hummed. “So Friday what were you thinking?”

And yeah Billy had been thinking but it was nothing he wished to divulge over this phone call. Truthfully he had no idea what to do with a girl like Charlie. He knew what to do with Tina's and Carol’s because everyone just wanted the same thing. He had no idea how to be alone with a girl and just be alone with her.

“Why don’t you pick.”

“And they say chivalry is dead.” She mused and something in her tone made him worry. “How do you feel about the outside?”

“It’s cold and I hate it.” He answered honestly cause yeah not only did the people in Hawkins suck but so did the fucking weather. Yes, he is aware that it’s January, almost February, but did it really have to be so fucking cold?

“Sounds perfect.” She chorused. “Bring a jacket, a heavy one and you’ll be fine.”

“I didn’t say yes.”

“Well, you’re not saying no either.”

And yeah he was definitely worried now.

“I’ll take your silence as a yes then,” She continued. “Come pick me up at 6 from work ok?”

“I don’t even know where you work.” Billy started and he could feel a headache coming. “And do I get to know where we are going since I’m driving?”

“No,” She sang and if it was anybody else he would’ve been annoyed. “It’s a surprise, California. And I work at the arcade. You know the one you constantly take your sister to?”

“I’ve never seen you there before.”

“That’s because the second Max closes the door you speed off like a bat out of hell, Hargrove.”

Which yeah ok that was true.

“Yeah ok I can do that then.”

“Great,”

And Billy knew the conversation would be coming to an end soon. But he just wasn’t quite ready for that yet. He just wanted to stay on the phone with her for a little bit longer. So.

“Uh, how was your evening?”

What was he fucking Dracula all of the sudden? How’s your evening come the fuck on really. He wanted to punch himself in his stupid face.

“Uh, fine it was fine. Just watched a movie with Steve and the kids.”

He didn’t like the way she said that. Steve and the kids. Like they were an old married couple. He didn’t like it and he was mad at himself because he shouldn’t care.

“What movie?” Why can’t he just hang up the damn phone?

“Night of the living dead.” She answered. “So if Max has a nightmare feel free to yell at me.”

Billy doubted that would ever happen. He probably gets them more than her. He’s never even seen her cry let alone be scared of anything.

“Will do.” And he needed to hang up this phone before he said something stupid. But he really just couldn’t. But then.

“Lucas, what are you--”

“You’ve been on the phone for 30 minutes!” There was a struggle and had it been that long already? “Tell Steve you will call him back later!”

“This isn’t Steve you little asswhipe.”

“Who cares I need to call Max!”

“You literally just saw her for fucks sake!”

“Steve, Charlie will call you back later ok?” It was Lucas yelling into the phone now and Billy wanted to laugh cause yeah this was funny. “I just really need to talk to my girlfriend before she breaks up with me again ok?”

“This isn’t Steve,” Billy finally spoke turning over his shoulder to sneak a glance at Max. “It’s Billy.”

“Billy?”

“Yeah.”

“You were on the phone with Charlie?”

“Yeah,” Billy chided. “Can you give the phone back for a quick sec then I’ll put Max on?”

“Uh, yeah sure.” Lucas stuttered.

“Hello?” Charlie’s voice came through.

“I think we better get off the phone,” Billy mused. “Seems like we’re getting in between something.”

She laughed. “Yeah, I guess so. See you at school tomorrow.”

“Bye, Charlie.”

“Bye, Billy.”

He pulled the phone away from his ear motioning it to Max. And again she gave him a confused look, “It's for you, Maxine.” And begrudgingly she got up to get the phone but Billy was already retreating back into his room to hide for the rest of the night.

Neil had gotten to him that Thursday night.

It had been a stupid fight really and at this point, Billy doesn’t even know why he tried to fight back. Neil always wins.

He’s lucky now he supposes because Hawkins is such a small town and people talk Neils learned not to go for the face. But now his body was a map of black and blue. And like it shouldn’t bother him anymore he should be used to this. Friday was around the corner and so was Sunday he had something to look forward to.

But that night.

That Thursday night before he would see Charlie he couldn’t sleep. He stayed up all night crying in his rooms wishing he was dead.

He didn’t say anything in the car on the way to school with Max. He never did after nights like this. She knew why no doubt she heard why.

And Max would send him these looks from the passenger seat, that he pretended not to notice. She looked like she wanted to say something, anything but maybe she was too scared to. Maybe she was like Billy where he always thought he would say the wrong thing.

But when they got to the school parking lot she gave him a soft ‘ Thank you ’ but her eyes said ‘ I’m sorry .’ ‘ I hate him too .’ and ‘ not even you deserve this. ’

And yeah at that point Billy could barely keep it together. He couldn’t go into the school and pretend for 8 hours that everything was ok. He didn’t want Charlie to see him like this. Even though it’s Friday and he should be happy.

So after he watched Max go into the front doors of school he left.

It was hard to find something to do all day in Hawkins because this town really didn’t have shit.

Small corner stores, even smaller, shops, a shitty diner that could at least make a good burger. But he wasn’t particularly hungry today, honestly, the thought of eating was too much. So he went to the only spot he knew in this fucking town that made him somewhat happy.

He went to the border.

Stared at the sign that said ‘ Now Leaving Hawkins ' for hours. Cause yeah maybe hopefully one day he would be gone. Back home in California where it was never cold. Where the sun was always out and beaches were always open. Where there was no Neil.

And yeah it sucked cause he was stuck here till graduation. So Billy sat in his car. Staring at the sign. And he cried.

He did go back to pick up Max from school.

He didn’t want Neil on his case again about her finding her own way home and like Max shouldn’t have to find her own way home if he was there anyway. And he felt better now, maybe. He got as much of it out as he could and he felt fine. Ok. Normal. His normal.

So as he sat out there in the parking lot waiting for Max to come through the school doors he wasn’t really paying attention to anything else. His music was blasting and he was smoking those cigarettes he liked so much.

So when someone knocked on his window, he almost jumped. It pissed him off and he was just on edge enough as is so he turned to tell whoever this was to fuck off. But when he turned he saw those stupid brown eyes he's been thinking about all day.

“Hey, Hargrove.”

And Billy he wanted to pretend that seeing Charlie wasn’t a breath of fresh fucking air. But Charlie was everything he needed right now and more. Just what the doctor ordered.

So he turned his music off his music and rolled his window down, cause he wanted to hear everything she had to say. “Missed ya at school today,” She quipped brown eyes scanning over him trying to see what was wrong, but she wouldn’t be able to. “Everything ok?”

No. It was not fucking ok. But.

“Yeah just had to deal with some shit,” He shrugged. Some shit he’s been dealing with his whole life but like, that’s not important.

Charlie leaned forward forearms pressed against the side of his car. Invading his space and it just wasn’t fucking fair. “We don’t have to hang out tonight,” She offered. “If you're not feeling ok.”

And Billy he just kind of froze. Cause she was so close. He could smell whatever perfume she had on and it was making his head swim. “No, I’m fine.” He reassured her, but the look on her face told him Charlie wasn’t buying it. “I’m better. Looking forward to tonight even if you're dragging my ass out in the cold.”

Charlie smiled then so bright like the California sun and Billy had to remember how to breathe.

“Ok then. I’ll see you after work.”

“You will.”

“6 Oclock sharp.”

“Not a minute late.”

Billy had shown up early.

15 minutes early to be exact. He had run Max around in between, got some spare parts that he and Charles might use to stretch out the time. Picked up another pack of cigarettes cause he blew through half of them today. Got a few beers and he kinda wished he knew what was Charlie’s favorite brand. But whatever.

So now he’s sitting outside this stupid arcade, in the parking lot going on his second cigarette because yes he was nervous. He doesn’t know why. He just is and it pisses him off. And like he’s sitting out here waiting for her to come out counting in this head the 1,001 ways he could fuck this up.

He’s made it this far albeit not entirely unscathed. But he’s fucking made it.

Charlie wouldn’t have even agreed to hang out with him unless she wanted to. She doesn’t do anything unless she wants to, he remembers. And she’s willing to spend her Friday night with him. Billy Hargrove. Not King Steve, or weird little Byers, not even that Priss Nancy. But him. So yeah. That has to mean something.

He let his cigarette dangle between his lips as he looked in his side mirror yet again, brushing back curls that he felt were too unruly. Making sure he didn’t look as bad as he felt. And even though it is barely 6 o'clock it's already dark out.

Charlie came out at exactly 6:02.

He managed to give himself one last look in his rearview mirror, ‘ Don’t fuck this up ’ before she got into the car. Charlie turned to him, brown eyes twinkling and a smile still just as bright.

“Are you ready for the best night of your life?”

Billy took one last huff of his cigarette before flicking it out the window. “Lead the way, Sinclair.”

Somehow her smile grew and his stomach churned. He started the engine and peeled out the parking lot like hell on wheels.

“When you said the best night of my life I imagined something completely different.”

“Oh come on this isn’t that bad,” Charlie hummed from the hood of his car beer in hand. “This is literally one of the best spots in Hawkins.”

Billy stared out ahead of him looking at the murky depth of the quarry, unphased. He took a swig of his beer.

“Then how come I never heard of it?” He quipped digging his free hand deeper in his pocket because the cold was nipping at his skin now. And yes he did wear a thick jacket as requested.

Charlie laughed and it sounded like bells. “Cause you hang out with uneducated trolls like Tommy.”

She wasn’t wrong about that. The only thing they did together was drink till they couldn’t remember the night and make stupid decisions. And that was just a Tuesday for them. Fridays were even worse because usually, Billy was conscious of the stupid decision he was making.

“What, is this your spot?” He remarked, tone light. “Is this where you bring all the guys or am I just that special?”

Charlie smiled, taking another sip of her beer. “I don’t think I ever brought anyone here besides, Jonathan.” She admitted honestly followed by a light shrug.

“Wait, you and Byers?” Billy wasn’t prying honestly; he was just genuinely curious about her. Because outside of family dinners they don’t speak. He doesn’t know much about her besides the fact that Tommy and Coral can’t stand her.

She raised an eyebrow. “ What ?”

“You and Byers,” He reiterated. “Were you two--”

“Oh my god , no.”

“Never?”

“Never,” She repeated sternly, hands going to her face. “We are quite literally Best Friends.”

Billy made a face. “But you two were always together,” He added, and literally everyone just assumed they were something cause he followed her around like a lost puppy. Never could find one without the other. Attached like glue.

“Yes, because we are best friends,” She continued. “And Jonathon was never good with talking with people. And I never liked talking to people so. We just clicked.”

He mulled over what she said, looking forward. Took another sip of beer before he spoke again. “Did you ever think about it?”

Charlie turned to look at him. Hand rubbing the back of her neck and the other swirling her beer.

“Once. I thought about it once.” She answered honestly, taking him by surprise. “Think he did too at one point, but we never did anything about it.”

“How come?”

“I don’t know, scared?” She offered. “Afraid it’ll go wrong probably. We’ve known each other since grade school so if we did it and it went wrong,” She exhaled deeply, her breath becoming a cloud in the cold. “It could ruin everything.”

Billy concluded that Jonathon Byers was a fucking moron and took a large gulp of his beer.

“It worked out for the best anyway,” She said. “He’s happy. I’m happy. What more could I ask for?”

He didn’t say anything after that looking at the quarry waters that were just as black as night. Seems to reflect the stars in the sky like a mirror. It was nice he’d give her that.

“My turn, California.”

Billy’s stomach churned but he put on a brave face. “I’m an open book, Sinclair.”

“You’re many things, Billy, but open is not one of them.” He laughed at that, something small but it was enough to draw her attention. “So what’s California like?”

“Fucking warm for starters,” He sniffed trying his best to hide from the cold in his jacket. Charlie smiled at him. “The sun seems like it’s always out. You can smell the salt from the sea in the air. I don’t know, it just seems like anything is possible there.”

“You miss it.”

It wasn’t a question. Billy finished off the last of his beer before grabbing another one from where the case sat in between them.

“Yeah, more than I care to admit.” He divulged opening a new can. “I miss the ocean. Could stay on the beach for hours just looking at it.”

“What’s it like?”

“Uh, ya know it’s a shit ton of water.” He wished he was better with words. “It can be scary. Currents could take you under if you’re not careful. But it's beautiful.”

He remembers the days his mom used to take him out surfing. He'd always convince her to let him stay out there a few extra minutes. He rolled his eyes at the memory taking a sip of his can.

“Why do Tommy and Coral hate to see you coming?” He asks, suddenly catching her off guard he didn’t mean to. Just didn’t want to think about her.

“I’m not surprised he didn’t tell you,” She laughed. “It’s because I used to kick his ass every day when we were kids.”

And Billy blinked. Cause there’s just no way. Charlie caught his look and laughed even harder. “No seriously when we were younger he loved picking on Jonathon, so I--” She snorted. “I would beat his ass.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No, no ask anyone.” She takes the last sip of her beer. Not going for a new one quite yet. “I remember distinctly putting his little ass in a headlock on the playground cause he fucked up Jonathon’s art project and tried to pretend it was an accident.” She was laughing again, this time hard. “The teacher had to pry me off him.”

Billy was joining her in laughing too now. Cause just the image of a small Charlie giving Tommy absolute hell was enough for him. But Charlie had this type of laugh that made you want to join in too.

“Ah, fuck,” He chuckled as Charlie wiped the corner of her eyes. “Ok, so Carol what’s the story there?”

“Do not judge me,” She reached in between them for another beer. They were down to three now. “Coral hates me because Tommy was my first kiss.”

Billy choked mid-sip at that. “No fucking way.”

“It was a moment of weakness.”

“You just said you used to beat the shit out of him,” Billy chuckled, wiping droplets of beer off his chin. “How did it even happen?”

“Uh, 7th-grade spring dance,” She offered brown eyes shining even in this dark night. “It was behind the bleachers. Carol, of course, had a crush on him so she was livid.” Charlie shrugged. “Hated me ever since.”

“She makes it seem like you tried to kill her puppy.”

“Yeah, well that's cause she’s a bitch.”

Billy laughed, taking another sip of his beer.

“Who was your first kiss?”

Billy raised his eyebrows. “If you repeat a word of this to anyone I’ll kill you,” She crossed an X over her chest and Billy’s eyes lingered at the action. “Stacy Holloway. I was 12, dumb, and in love.”

“ The Billy Hargrove was smitten?” She teased and he couldn’t help but chuckle before murmuring a shut up, continuing with his story.

“This is so stupid but I asked her to go for a walk with me on the pier one day, for whatever reason she agreed.” Billy fiddled with the ring on his finger. “I held her hand on the walk there and,” He sighed harshly through his nose. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this, fuck it. I timed it so we would get to the end of the pier at sunset and that’s when I kissed her.”

“That is the cutest shit I ever heard.”

“Charlie, I swear to--”

“No, honestly!” She laughed. “Who knew you could be such a sweetheart?”

Billy scratched at his temple. Stomach churning but he ignored it and took a long swing of his beer, knowing it was half gone at this point.

“You’re next.”

“How do you expect me to follow that?”

“Charlie.”

“You just gave romance authors a run for their money,” She insisted between sips. “I got nothing to beat that. The closest thing you get to romance in Hawkins is guys trying to put their hands down your pants at the movies.”

“Ok fine,” Billy laughed. “No romance. What’s your favorite band?”

“Blondie.” She admitted without missing a beat. “Jonathon is actually the one that introduced me to them. May his taste in music never waver.”

Charlie took a large gulp of her beer at that. Billy smiled as he watched her do it.

“So I’m gonna say something while I have the liquor running through me as an excuse,” She admitted turning to him. He could only make out half her face, it was so dark out. “I don’t know what made you apologize that night but I’m glad you did.”

Billy’s stomach churned again but this time he couldn’t ignore it.

“I can admit in the beginning I gave you a hard time but you kept coming back.” Those stupid brown eyes were holding him in place and he couldn’t turn away if he wanted to. “My parents love you, Erica tolerates you,” Billy had laughed at that. “And Lucas I think is finally warming up to you.”

“What qualifies as warming up?” He asked with a raised brow because the kid still won’t say a word to him.

“When you’re brought up in conversations he actually engages now instead of pretending you don’t exist.” She admitted smiling like this was a grand improvement.

“You bring me up in conversations?”

“That’s not the point I was trying to make, California.” Turning her face away so he can’t see it. He won’t push it but he’ll be saving that one for later. Hopefully another time.

He took a small sip. “So what is the point then?”

She stared out into the quarry this time.

“I like having you around.” She admitted so quietly he almost didn’t catch it.

It was a small admission. But it was enough to make his world stop spinning. Charlie Sinclair liked having him around. Liked having him around as much as he liked being around. It made the bruises on his body not ache so much. Made his ears ring. Because maybe, just maybe. It could be more.

Suddenly it wasn’t so cold in Hawkins anymore.

He cleared his throat and his mouth was dry. “I like uh, coming around.” He grimaced at the sound of his voice and decided to just finish his beer cause maybe that’ll help.

“Good, hoping you’ll stick around for a while.” She tucking a strand of hair behind her ear now. “My Dad would be really sad if you didn’t.”

Maybe it was the cheap beer that was making him a little braver than usual. It made him not second guess himself so much. So he kinda just.

“Just your Dad?”

She paused for a beat. Looking up at him through her lashes. Billy wasn’t even aware he was leaning forward slightly, maybe to get a better look. Maybe to inch his hand closer to hers on the hood of his car. Maybe.

Her lips parted to answer him and he couldn’t pry his eyes away from them.

But then there was a flash of blue and red. A Police siren and they jumped away from one another.

“Shit,” He cursed, quickly throwing his beer can into the woods. He grabbed Charlie’s and the girl let him take it. For a brief moment their hands touched but Billy didn't even have a chance to process it because a cop was making his way towards them.

“Wait, Billy, I think--”

The sheriff got out of his car shining that obnoxious flashlight in hand and Billy had to cover his eyes. “What are you kids-- Charlie?”

Charlie grimaced. “H-hey, Hopper. How’s your night going?”

Hopper looked between Billy and Charlie then to the beers scattered on the ground before he answered. “You know, same ol same old. And you?”

“Ah, you know.” She laughed. “Just catching up with my buddy, Billy.” She clapped a hand on his back and Billy stumbled forward at the action. He sent her a look and she just nodded her head towards Hopper.

“Hello, Sir.”

“Hargrove,” He regarded him with an overall unimpressed look.

He turned back to the smaller girl and Billy was relieved. “Charlie, are your parents aware that you are here. Alone. With a boy. Drinking, what I’m hoping is canned sodas.”

Charlie rocked back on her feet. “Yeah, they know all about, Billy.” She elbowed him in the side. “Don’t they, Billy?”

He knew when to take a hint.

“Yeah, The Sinclairs know,” He offered his best smile to the gruff-looking cop. “They know we are here.”

“Right so here’s what we are going to do,” Hopper mumbled clicking off his flashlight. “I am going to get in my car and drive away. Then you, Hargrove, are going to take Charlie straight home. Do I make myself clear?”

“Cyrstal sir.”

“And drive the speed limit with her in the car.”

“Yessir.”

“Thank you, Hopper!” Charlie called from next to him and the old man just waved a hand over his shoulder in acknowledgment before getting in his car and leaving the clearing.

Billy turned to Charlie. “What the fuck was that?”

“What was what?”

“The sheriff,” He clarified. “He just let us go.”

Charlie shrugged, grabbing the leftover beers off the hood of his car. “Well me and Hopper are pretty cool so yeah.”

“You’re cool with the cops?”

“Cop, singular.” She corrected him as if that made a difference. “Honestly we got lucky it was him and not dumb and dumber. Those two would’ve definitely given us tickets.”

Billy patted his jacket down for his keys but did not find them. He heard a jingle and looked up just in time to catch them as Charlie tossed them his way.

“Now come on, California.” She ushered already making her way to the passenger seat. “We got about 15 minutes before Hopper is driving down my street making sure I actually made it home.”

Billy made it back to her house in 10.

Could’ve been five but he regarded Hopper’s warning about going the speed limit. He only had 3 beers and was only the slightest bit buzzed but he rather not risk it. It was about 9:40 when they pulled up to the Sinclair household didn’t even seem like they were out there that long.

But Charlie wasn’t rushing to get out of the car and he wasn’t forcing her to go.

So.

“This was fun,” She admitted with a laugh. “Before Hopper showed up I mean.”

“Yeah, it was,” Billy’s finger drummed along his steering wheel. Nervous. “We should do this again.”

Her eyes were on him again. “I’d like that.”

“Cool,” He bit the inside of his cheek. “But next time I pick the place if that’s okay.”

“I’m sure I’ll live, California.” She reached for her backpack. “Well see you Sunday?”

“Yeah, Sunday.” He hoped it didn’t sound as awkward as he felt. “Goodnight, Charlie.”

“Night, Billy,”

And she turned to leave one foot on the sidewalk but she turned back towards him at the last second. “Right ok I forgot to tell you this,” She stammered. “But I’ll be sad too.”

Billy blinked so very confused.

“Ok wow really have to spell it out for you.” Charlie bit her lip and normally he would’ve felt insulted. “When you asked if just my Dad would be sad.” She clarified. “I wanted to tell you if you ever stopped coming around I’d be sad too.”

Oh.

Fuck. His stomach was churning again cause now he didn’t have the beer to calm him down. He was just his stupid self in front of her and he’d never thought, never dreamed of what to do in a situation like this.

And Charlie was looking at him with those stupid brown eyes waiting for him to say something, anything. But he couldn’t for the life of him get his mouth to form words in this singular moment. It was like he was physically glitching.

Billy tried his best to smile and hoping this awkward pause wasn’t as long as he actually thought it was. “Thank you, Charlie.”

That must’ve been the right thing to say because now she’s smiling at him and he can’t breathe.

“Ok I’m gonna head inside then,” And just like that she was gone, making her way across the dimly lit yard to her front door. Turning around to send him one last wave before heading inside and like the dumbass, he is he waved back.

When she went inside Billy sped off.

His chest felt light, he couldn’t stop smiling, he was just so fucking happy. He had this Friday and hopefully the next. He had those Sunday’s in the garage with Charles.

Now he had Charlie.

55 notes · View notes

cultgambles · 4 years

Text

Sometimes You Need a Little TLC from a Villain (Dabi x Reader)

Summary:

Reader is a normal civilian...well as normal as you can get dating a villain. On Friday, Reader is stalked. On Saturday, an 'accident' occurs. On Sunday, Dabi comforts you best he knows.

word count: 1925

Masterlist | Requests? open

It was Friday, the last day of the work week. I wouldn’t be able to see You in person for a couple days. It made me feel so sad, but then I saw You through the doors of the office building. The clear office doors where You worked as an accountant. I knew You hated that job, with your slavedriver of a boss pushing you around constantly. But, I suppose You did make good money, your apartment was nothing to laugh at. Even if it was at the edge of a seedy part of town. Even if You have creepy neighbors I’ll always be watching You.

I could faintly smell your scent as You walked past me. You didn’t see me, luckily, otherwise I would have to converse as to why your coworker was ‘reading’ a paper in front of the building in which you both worked.

You walked past that karaoke bar as you always do to get to your train--the local green one. I saw You insert the ticket, and I followed after a few people. I stayed near You, maybe I could be your gallant knight in shining armor to save you from weirdos. I saw You sitting by the window, squeezing your legs, your brow furrowing as You stared at your phone. What was on there? I craned my neck to see, even though I knew I was too far away. The train came to a stop: station 5. Your commute was at least 30 minutes, mine more. As You walked out of the station, I saw your head tilt and You swerved around, scanning the area. I ducked behind a wall, and your heeled feet continued on their way. Relief flooded me, You didn’t see me.

That relief however, was short lived. Right out of the station’s doors, I saw You jump into someone’s arms. I heard your laugh, like bells in the wind.

I clenched my fist, fishing my phone out of my pocket to snap a photo of this mystery man. No one was good enough to be with You. Everyone except me, of course. You and that man walked hand in hand all the way to your apartment. Disgusting. Suddenly, the man lifted your arm above your head, spinning You into a hug.

“Hey! What are you doing?!” You giggled. Your back was to me, but he. He was facing me. As I stared on, his eyes focused, landing on me. They were a bright cerulean, deadly. Just as quick as they focused, he turned around, an arm slung on your shoulder.

I blinked, rubbing my eyes. Did that actually happen? Or were my eyes playing tricks on me?

You were gone by the time I decided to move again. Maybe that was for the best.

Your apartment was on the 2nd floor, overlooking the street. Your window blinds were almost always open, the lights inside silhouetting your body perfectly. You of course, weren’t alone. That man. I saw his shape too, that should be me.

I stayed outside for another hour and a half at least. I would have stayed longer, but he was pissing me off too much. Since when had this happened? I’ve been following You for a couple weeks now and I’ve never seen him before. I spared another glance at your window, and the blinds were drawn except one part was lifted.

Cerulean blue eyes.

[ Y / N ] P O V

“What are you doing, weirdo?” [Y/N] called to their boyfriend.

“Nothing you need to worry about, Doll,” Dabi said, pulling the blind down.

“Well, I hope you’re hungry! I made cold soba.”

“Starving,” he replied, joining [Y/N] at the small dining table. “Hey. You ever feel like you’re being watched?”

“Watched? I can’t say...today I thought someone was behind me a lot though, why?”

“Why don’t you take your pants off then? I know you hate wearing them after work.”

“Oh so you just wanna see my ass, huh?”

“Course,” Dabi gave a lazy smirk and waved a hand towards [Y/N] .

“Fine, fine! Let me finish eating at least.” After, [Y/N] and Dabi cuddled on the small couch and watched Into the Tall Grass.

Dabi always smelled like campfire smoke and pine, cigarette smoke seeped into his clothes. [Y/N] used to hate the smell, but now, it brought them comfort.

“Why did you ask if I thought someone was watching me earlier?” [Y/N] asked, pressing their face into his neck. In return, he tightened his grip.

“Don’t worry about it, Doll. Thought I saw someone from your work.”

“Oh, Hidashi? He rides the same train as me. I think he told me he gets off at the stop after mine or something.”

“Hidashi, huh?”

“Yeah, okay, shh, movie time now.” [Y/N] ’s boyfriend gave a small chuckle and kissed their hair.

The rest of the evening was spent cuddling on the couch, which the two were grateful of. Dabi hadn’t been around for the last couple weeks because of a mission Shigaraki sent him on, and [Y/N] was just glad to be off work, and to be in their boy’s arms.

≿-----༺❀༻-----≾

I tried imagining me holding You like that last night, but he kept popping up in my mind. That guy with those blazing eyes, spiky black hair, and long black coat. Was this the type of man You went for? Some drab fellow? Why couldn’t it be me? These last few months of working with You, I tried being nice and being your friend. I brought You sweet snacks I thought You would enjoy, and hovered around You, always ready to lend a hand if You needed it. Punching the air right now.

I sighed, rubbing the back of my hands over my eyes and got up to get dressed. It was Saturday. You always went to a park around lunch time. You would spend a good hour or so there, and later return to your apartment.

I would be there, of course, watching silently. When I got to your apartment, the lights were on. I saw You across the street, seemingly dancing to a song. I felt the ghost of a smile grace my face, until I saw Him waltz towards You. He held and hand out for You, and placed another on the small of your back. I seethed, watching the two of you sway.

Who even was this guy? I kicked a trash can and the lid clattered to the ground. I couldn’t bear to see You with someone. I fished my phone out of my pocket, scrolling through the thousands of photos I took of just You. My haggard breath calmed slightly. This was no biggie, I could get rid of him easily with my Quirk. He looks scrawny enough.

A cough jolted me out of my reverie. Startled, I looked to your window, only to see the lights off. Had You left for the park already and I hadn’t noticed?

“Hey.”

I grunted. Who the hell is bothering me now?

“Look at me, motherfucker,” the voice commanded.

Slowly, I turned around.

The man before me was covered in scars and staples. Wasn’t there a villain that had those features?

“I said look at me.”

I saw his hand reach out, a blue flame hovering above his palm. Hesitantly, I looked up, what would a villain want with me, a normal civilian?

Blue cerulean eyes.

I would recognize them anywhere.

“It’s you. What are you? Some kind of clown?” I sneered. He raised an eyebrow.

“So. You’re Hidashi, huh?” Okay. Now a little fear.

“How..How do you know my name?”

“I’m sure you know mine, after all, I am a notorious villain,” he purred, stalking closer to me.

“Dabi..”

“That’s right,” he affirmed, stooping down. “But you know who else I am?”

“[Y/N] ’s boy toy or something? I haven’t seen you around. What, they pick you off the street because they felt sorry for your ugly ass?”

I can’t believe my precious [Y/N] decided to go for this asshole.

Wait, was he holding You hostage?

“We met a few months ago, you know? [Y/N] found me lying on the cold hard ground. Patched me up. Now they can’t shake me,” he said. A few months? How did I not know about this? Why didn’t You tell me?

“They won’t have to worry about you anymore though.”

“They’ll never get rid of me. Ha! They don’t even know it’s me! You may be a villain but I know you can’t fight without your little buddies here to help you!”

“You’re right, they’ll never get rid of you themselves…” He sighed, almost contemplating. “Glad I'm here to do it for them.”

[ Y / N ] P O V

Today was a really nice day, [Y/N] thought as they headed back home. It was nice to sit under the cedar tree and watch the clouds roll by. [Y/N] had even gotten a ways through their book.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing out here all by your lonesome?” a man’s voice drawled behind you.

“Just walking home,” [Y/N] replied awkwardly, turning around slightly to get a look at the guy. Once they realized who it was, they brightened up immensely. “Hey, you! I didn’t see you this morning. Thought you had to do another errand.” That’s what they called his work. [Y/N] knew Dabi worked with the league, but he didn’t like going too much in detail, so [Y/N] didn’t ask.

Dabi throws an arm around them. “Yeah, I had to take care of somethin’, but now I’m all yours, Sweetness.”

[Y/N] giggled, “Thinkin’ you’re gonna get some tonight?”

“You know I will.”

“Mmm, maybe,” [Y/N] teased.

As soon as the two got inside of [Y/N] ’s apartment, Dabi flopped on the couch, while you went in the kitchen to find some snacks. [Y/N] heard the TV flicker on, and a news reporter appeared on screen.

“Reporting live! This is Max Lobo. I never do things like this, but I’ve been following the Paranormal Liberation Front for some time now. A BODY has been discovered. It’s singed and nearly unrecognizable. A man in his late 20’s, brown hair.

“While this could be the work of a lesser criminal, these blue flames that linger are sure signs of the villain Dabi. We will continue investigating this as if our life depends on it. Was he just trying to blow off some steam? Or was he a rat that needed to be eliminated?

“Back to you at the studio.”

“Dabi?”

A grunt.

“Was that your little errand today?”

“So what if it was? He deserved to die. I saw the way he looked at you.”

“D’awww, you care about me or something?” [Y/N] crooned, setting a plate of cookies on the coffee table.

“Nah, I think that reporter was right. Just tryin’ to blow off some steam,” Dabi smirked.

“Glad I could lead you to just the guy then.”

“Yeah yeah, get your ass over here,” he said, rolling his eyes. Dabi pulled [Y/N] onto his lap.

[Y/N] liked when he would stare up at them with those content eyes and lazy smirk. They liked being taller than him, if only for a bit. Leaning down, [Y/N] captures his lips in a kiss. They always start off slow and sweet, but Dabi’s patience wears thin and it turns steamy in a matter of seconds. He runs his hands over [Y/N] ’s sides, grasping at the thin shirt.

“Stop hiding from me,” Dabi murmured, breaking the kiss and pulling it over their head.

[Y/N] ran their fingers across his scars and staples in a light feathery fashion.

PS!! requests are open, so drop me somethin if you’d like!

#dabi #dabi x reader #gender neutral reader #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #dabi x you #anime fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction

89 notes · View notes