#Billy’s life is just one exhausting experience after another
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rainbow-femme · 1 month ago
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What do you think that first conversation between Billy and Charlie was like after Jake spilled the secret? Billy comes over looking to chat and Charlie is just at the kitchen table with a thousand yard stare like “My daughter doesn’t look like my daughter but her adopted daughter does and also I saw your kids’ bare ass before he turned into a giant dog”
Let this poor man have just one normal day
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multi-fandomfuckboy · 2 years ago
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Stranger Than Fiction
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Part 20: Snowball
Billy Hargrove x Reader (Slowburn)
Part 1,... (Masterlist)...Part 21 (Coming Soon)...
AN: Long time coming for this one! I hope you guys enjoy it! I had a great time writing it and I have honestly been thinking about this for a while so it's so good to finally get it posted! I want you all to know that this is only a season finale and is NOT the end of the story. We have a little ways to go ❤️
Word Count: 4,569
Warnings: Anxiety, mentions of death, dancing, guilt, mentions gun
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The coming days are a blur. There was a lot of talking that night. Everyone explaining their side of the crazy story that had been unfolding all around you. The pieces began falling into place and by the end of it you had a pretty clear picture of what had occurred over the past 4 days and where exactly you fit into it. 
By the time the stories merged together everyone was ready to sleep for a week. You went with Steve to drop off Dustin while Jonathan dropped off Nancy, Mike, and Lucas. It was around 3 in the morning when you finally got home, Steve’s car pulling to a stop in front of your house. You feel nervous. Exhausted but on edge, still worried about the darkness lurking around the corners. 
You jump when Steve places a hand on your knee. Meeting his eyes in the dim light of the car you see understanding. He doesn't want to be alone either. 
“Do you mind if I stay here?” He asks. You look at your empty house and for a moment think of your mom coming home in a few hours and finding Steve Harrington on her couch. But when you look back to Steve, you can’t imagine being alone right now, not yet. “My parents aren’t home and… I don't know, I just…” He sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair frustrated. 
“No.” You cut him off. “You can stay, I-I feel the same way.” you admit, smiling gently. He returns your smile gratefully. You instruct him to park a little ways down the street so he can sneak out when your mom gets home. 
The two of you enter the house and you lead him to your bedroom, grabbing extra blankets from the hallway closet. You set up a little sleeping area for him on the floor next to your bed. You each take turns showering, and you let him borrow some of your baggiest clothes to sleep in. When you are both settled in bed, there is a tense silence. You don’t know how to tell him that you're grateful he’s here. That you feel better knowing he’s next to you after all of this. 
“Can you leave the light on?” he asks. You smile up at the ceiling. 
“Yea.” you say, there was no way you were turning off the light anyway. After another beat of silence you turn onto your side, lowering your arm off the bed and take his hand. He threads his fingers through yours without hesitation. It’s the most comforting thing you can think of right now, and it seems to work because both of you are asleep in minutes.
You wake up a few hours later to the sound of your mom coming in. You wake Steve and quickly sneak him out the window before going to greet your mom. She only has a couple of questions about your weekend at Nancy’s and you do your best to come up with a story. She doesn't press though, most likely just relieved that you’re spending time with friends like you used to. 
It is strange going back to school. Similar to the last time, but now everything just feels… silly. Days ago you were fighting for your life against other worldly creatures and now Mr. Johnson is asking if you completed the make-up assignments. It’s enough to give you whiplash. 
Luckily, you have Steve, Nancy, and Jonathan there. Never all at the same time though. Things are still uncomfortable now that Nancy is officially dating Jonathan. Steve hasn’t talked to you about it once. You know that he thinks if he keeps on acting like he doesn't care, eventually he won’t. But you see it in his eyes each time he sees them together, his heart is broken. 
You and Steve have been hanging out a lot more now, even without Nancy. Something about surviving a near death experience together really makes a friendship stronger. Nancy had Jonathan so Steve had you. 
Things are still strange between you and Nancy. Even after everything came out and Hawkins Lab took responsibility for Barb's death, there still seemed to be this space between the two of you. You, sometimes, wonder if it will ever be the same between you. If it ever could be. 
You are working on it though. Making an effort to remain friends with her. You still love her, but it’s different now. You both are. 
You manage to attend Barb’s funeral. You don’t remember most of it. The chilling numbness creeping over you, the fog descending in your mind as the priest spoke and they brought out the casket. You know that you cried and that when you started to shake Steve wrapped an arm sound you. You couldn't watch as they lowered the pine box into the ground, turning your face into Steve’s shoulder. He didn't say anything, and you're thankful for that. At some point Nancy took your hand, squeezing it tightly, crying next to you. It was comforting to know that Barb’s parents would get some amount of closure, but you doubt you will ever be able to look at them without feeling the stab of guilt. 
It’s good to finally be able to grieve the loss of Barb, with Nancy. It heals some of the space between you. As the weeks go by most of your time together is spent filling out late admission college applications. It doesn't feel as daunting when she is talking you through the process. She even helped you submit a couple of creative writing scholarships. It’s strange, actually thinking about the future.
Mrs. Henderson must have spread the word that you were babysitting again after she ran into you the night you were looking for Dart, because the next week you started getting calls. You were hesitant at first but with the thought of paying for college looming over you, you slowly started to take jobs. Keeping it within the party at first, but eventually branching out. 
You never did get a call from the Hargrove house though. 
You haven't spoken to Billy since that night. You have seen him around, of course. In the halls, in class, driving by. But, every time your eyes meet he looks away quickly or avoids you completely. You try not to dwell on it too much, when you think about that night you can’t ignore the twisting in your gut.
Billy not speaking to you could have something to do with Steve, who had not gotten over his broken nose yet, sticking close to your side. You had tried to explain to Steve that he didn’t have the whole story. But, it's difficult to do that without sharing things that were not yours to share. 
You can’t say that you mind. Steve is one of the few people you would trust with your life. But, it’s getting a bit ridiculous. You swear that any time Billy comes close to you, Steve will angle his body to block you. He always plays it off, but you know that it’s intentional. 
A new routine starts to form as the weeks pass. You still walk each morning, Steve driving you to school most days. You typically spend lunch with Steve as well, since Nancy normally eats with Jonathan in his car. After school you spend an hour doing homework and college prep with Nancy. You pick up babysitting jobs on Tuesdays, Thursdays and weekends. The rest of your time is filled with writing. 
The stories are still dark, mirroring the dreams that still haunt you each night. It just seems like the best way for you to get the darkness inside of you out, on paper. Luckily you haven’t felt anything close to what you felt in your mind the night El closed the gate. The only person you had told about it was Steve, both of you agreed that since it had stopped there was no need to worry the rest of the group.  
When the Snowball approaches Nancy convinces you to volunteer with her. She explains that it would look good on scholarship applications. You agree, and that’s how you ended up picking up trash around the middle school gym. 
You found an outfit in the back of your closet that you are fairly certain hasn’t seen the light of day in 2 years. Despite your mom’s best efforts, it still managed to look wrinkled. 
It isn’t all bad. The music is decent and you get to spend a bit of time with Nancy, reminiscing about your own middle school dances. Best of all though, is watching the awkward pre-teens navigate their feelings for one another. There's something refreshing about the way they take a deep breath, stealing their resolve, before taking the plunge and asking their crush to dance. Their minds, undoubtedly, spinning with panic and fear of rejection. 
It must seem so important to them, so terrifying. That’s what kids their age should be scared of. Not monsters and government cover ups. 
You smile to yourself, watching Lucas pair off with Max. You had seen that one from a mile away. A girl even asks Will to dance. You watch Dustin attempt to ask a girl to dance. She laughs and walks away. He turns to try again, only for the other girls to turn away. Your heart gives an uncomfortable squeeze. He looks around lost, alone… before heading for the bleachers. 
Setting down your trash bag you take a step towards him but feel a hand on your elbow, stopping you. Turning you see Nancy smiling knowingly at you. 
“I got this one.” She says, nodding in Dustin’s direction. Her smile is kind but there is a glint of sadness in her eyes. “Kind of reminds me of when we first met.” Your brows draw together, trying to recall when that was. You have known each other for so long it is hard to say. Seeing your confusion she chuckles softly. 
“We were all so little, I’m not surprised you don’t remember.” She says kindly. “Barb and I were at the park, and there was this group of boys that kept messing with us, knocking over our toys and pulling our hair.” The sadness in her eyes makes sense, the memory flashes through your mind. 
How could you forget the day you all became friends? 
“We were both crying on the bench when you came out of nowhere and started yelling at them.” you laugh at the memory, tinged with the sadness of missing your friend. “I’m not even sure you were saying actual words.” She recalls chuckling. 
“I think I was pretending to be a dog.” you add causing her to laugh. 
“Well whatever you did, you scared them away and got our toys back. When you came over you told me that we looked sad and scared so you wanted to help.” Her gaze flickers to where Dustin sits on the bleachers. “You’re the reason we all became friends in the first place.” She says, her voice laced with sadness. “You’re always trying to help, and I guess what I’m trying to say is… Thank you.” When your eyes meet hers again there is a glint of unshed tears in her eyes. 
Swallowing past the lump in your throat, you smile, pulling her into a hug. She holds you tightly. 
Clearing your throat you pull away, not wanting to cry in the middle of a dance. 
“You got this one.” you say gruffly, moving to pick up your trash bag. Nancy gives you one last smile before crossing the gym to Dustin. You watch her lead him to the dance floor, gently showing him how to dance. Your heart aches watching them. Memories of Nancy, Bard and you dancing together fill your mind. Nancy doing her best to get the two of you to move in any coordinated manner, eventually devolving into a mass of giggles and jumping around. 
You have to turn away. You continue around the gym, picking up trash, until you see Eleven walk in. Mike sees her instantly. You watch as he leads her to the dance floor, the two of them cautiously coming together, so happy to be in the same place, together, alive. They awkwardly sway to the music and you can’t help but recall what Max had said to you on the kitchen floor. The comparison she had made between Mike and yourself. 
Seeing Mike reunited with the person he thought he had lost hits you in a way you were not prepared for. The idea that something so amazing could happen for them and the fact that it would never happen for you. El is back, but Barb is gone forever. A bitter resentment twists in your gut, acidic bile rising in your throat at the thought. 
You're disgusted at yourself for the feeling. You should be happy for them. What kind of monster thinks something like that? 
The large gym suddenly feels too small, the music disorienting. The jumble of bodies makes it too warm. Your palms feel moist where they grip the black trash bag with white knuckles. Looking around frantically, you see the exit out the back of the gym and hurry towards it. 
Pushing open the doors you rush out of the bustling gym into the freezing December night. The frigid air bites at your feverish skin, soothing you. You focus on taking deep breaths, in through your nose and out through your mouth. You stare after each exhalation, a small puff of breath shimmering in the dim light. Each inhale like ice, slowing the pounding of your heart, cooling the fire churning in your mind. After a few moments, your breathing comes more evenly and you run a shaking hand though your hair. 
The world around you is so still. The cold seems to have calmed the earth, as well as your racing mind. Standing in the alleyway between the gym and the rest of the school, you gaze up at the night sky. The inky darkness speckled with shining stars. It’s calm. The sound of music drifting softly from behind you. 
Hearing something move in the darkness to your left, you jump. Turning, you freeze, spotting a shadowy figure leaning against the wall in front of the dumpster, roughly 100 feet from you. You can’t make out their features from this far away in such low lighting. You see the low glow of embers flickering at the end of a cigarette that dangles from their lips. 
Your body is rigid, muscles taught, your hand reflexively moving to your waist despite knowing your pistol is not there. Before your mind can decide between fight or flight the figure speaks. 
“So, they put you on trash duty, loca?” A familiar voice calls. You feel yourself relax at the sound of Billy’s voice, releasing a breath. Billy pushes himself off the brick, standing upright as you approach, your eyes adjust to the light and you see him more clearly. 
“Lurking in alleyways now?" You ask, drawing closer. "Very cool.” you shoot back, hoping the panic is gone from your voice as you stop in front of him. His outfit is more formal than you are used to seeing, a collared blue button up that matched his eyes well, along with a leather jacket and jeans. You vaguely wonder if the jacket is doing much to keep him warm. His lips twitch upwards at your comment, the embers of his cigarette glowing brighter as he inhales again. 
“Not lurking, just…” He turns his head upwards, exhaling the smoke above your heads before levelling his eyes back on you. “Chaperoning.” He finishes, flicking the butt of his cigarette to the ground, using the toe of his boot to extinguish the remaining embers.
“That makes two of us.” You say, taking a step around him to get to the dumpsters lining the alleyway. Setting the garbage bag down, you open the lid of the large green container allowing it to fall back clanging against the metal loudly. You reach for the bag, preparing to hoist it in, but Billy’s hand beats you to it. 
“I got it.” He says, quickly lifting the bag and tossing it in with little effort. You stare at him for a moment, confused. 
“Thank you.” You say, hesitantly. He wipes his hands on his jeans, only grunting in response.
He hasn’t said so much as a sentence to you in over 6 weeks and now he’s doing you favours? Turning back to you, he shoves his hands into his pockets. He seems to make himself look somewhat smaller, hunching his shoulders slightly. You’re reminded of the way he had shrunk next to his father, your stomach flipping uncomfortably. His eyes find yours and you see the conflict in them. He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something but stops, closing it again. 
The only sound between you is the music drifting from the dance. His eyes hold yours and you have to look away, suddenly feeling warm under his intense gaze. You clear your throat, hoping to relieve some of the tension. 
“Well, I-uh, I should…” you trail off, gesturing behind you to the doors leading back to the gym. Billy’s eyes remain transfixed, you feel heat begin to creep up your neck. Swallowing thickly, you move to take a step back, hoping to avoid any confrontation. 
Before you can pull further away Billy’s hand reaches out, grasping your arm. His hold on you is surprisingly gentle, almost hesitant, and you notice that despite the cold air, his palm is warm. Glancing down at where his hand makes contact with your skin, you notice the healed scars on his knuckles. Your mouth suddenly feels dry. He clears his throat, drawing your attention back to his face. 
“Listen, I’m not really… good… at stuff like this.” He admits gruffly. His eyes hold yours, his brows pulling together as the small muscle in his jaw flexes. You swear that in the dim light you see a dusting of pink in his cheeks, it must have been the cold. You wait in silence, watching him struggle to speak.
“Thank you.” he practically has to spit the words out. Your mouth gaps slightly. Billy was not one for niceties and you’re fairly certain this is the first time he has thanked you for anything. 
Your shock turns to confusion, not entirely sure what he’s thanking you for. 
“For what, exactly?” you ask as gently as you can. His eyes shift, falling to his boots. 
“For that night you helped me find Max.” he explains, avoiding your eyes. “You really saved my ass with Neil.” he goes on. Your stomach twists at the memory. More specifically the way Neil had looked at his son as he stood, terrified, on the front steps. It had put you on edge then and now you know for good reason. 
The gratitude you had seen in Billy’s eyes before he disappeared into the house suddenly makes sense. You have no idea what Neil would have done if you hadn’t insisted on speaking with him that night, but if Billy’s demeanour is anything to go by, it couldn’t have been good.  
“You’re welcome.” You say, your voice barely above a whisper. Billy’s eyes meet yours again as he takes half a step closer to you. Against your will, your heart races at the proximity. You are suddenly aware of the heat radiating off of him, making the empty air behind you feel even colder. The hand encompassing your arm twitches, the warmth from it seeming to creep over your skin. You find yourself wanting to draw closer, to close the small distance between you and be consumed by the warmth. There is a pause of silence, the music emanating from the gym filling the space. 
“Dance with me.” Billy says, suddenly. It’s less of a request and more of a gentle demand. You gap up at him not knowing what to say. It’s such an outlandish offer. It’s the middle of December, in an alleyway behind the gym at a middle school dance. His lips twitch upwards at your bewildered expression. 
“What? Never danced with a guy before?” He asks, in a tone meant to be teasing. Your face heats up as you try to recall a time that you had been asked to dance, it had to have been in 8th grade. 
“N-no, I have.” you deny. “It’s just we’re in an alleyway and- and it's freezing out.” you try to explain your hesitance, his grin only growing wider. The flash of his white teeth makes your stomach flip. 
“Don’t worry loca, I’ll lead.” He assures you, the hand on your arm sliding down to gently hold your waist. He takes another step towards you and all the excuses die on your tongue as he smiles softly down at you. Your mind races, trying to recall what Nancy had taught you. 
Squaring your shoulders towards him, you place your hands, arms extended, on his shoulders. Billy’s brows pull together, taking in your rigid posture. 
“Jesus christ, what are you? 12?” he asks. You open your mouth to bite back at him but the hand on your waist pulls you closer, pressing your body fully against his. Your breath hitches as he slots one of his legs between yours. 
“Now your arms go here. '' he instructs, his free hand moving your arm up around his neck, moving you, impossibly, closer. Your heart is pounding against your ribs so hard that you're certain he can feel it through where your chest is pressed against his. His hand trails down your side to your back, holding you against him with a firm pressure. He lowers his head, leaving the only space between you a few inches between your faces. You can feel his warm breath mingling with yours. 
“Now feel the music, move with it.” He instructs, his tone gentler now, just a whisper between you. You can feel his breath fanning across your cheeks, under the smell of cigarettes you smell his peppermint toothpaste. You do your best to focus on the song over the sound of blood rushing in your ears. Taking a deep breath you begin to shift your feet slightly. Billy clicks his tongue. 
“Loosen up a little, move from here.” He tells you his hands sliding down your sides to grip your hips, moving them against his in time with the music. You’re not fully aware of the butterflies fluttering in your stomach, too consumed by the way his body is moving. Feeling him sway along with you helps you move more rhythmically. The two of you begin slowly, building your confidence, Billy leading you. His body seems to consume you, guiding you along with him. Part of you is amazed at how he is able to fluidly move the two of you together as one, along with the music. 
You begin to move independently, feeling more confident, his arms always around you. Becoming engrossed in the way the two of you are moving together, not even aware of the cold anymore. Your hand absentmindedly moves along his shoulders to the base of his neck, your fingers threading through his curls. They are surprisingly soft. You hear Billy hum, the sound vibrating through his chest. Without warning, he bows his head, leaning forward into you while his hands support your back, lowering you into a dip. 
You can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up in your chest. Billy chuckles at your reaction, lifting you back up. Your smile remains on your face as he continues to move the two of you. 
As the music slows, so does he. You pant a breath, trying to contain your smile as he slowly comes to a stop. He smiles back down at you in a way you haven’t seen before, his blue eyes sparkling. The closest you had seen was when he was talking about California, or when he was drugged. It makes your head feel fuzzy. He still holds you close to him, his eyes on you. With his eyes searching your face so intently, you suddenly feel embarrassed, averting your eyes. 
“Thanks.” you say, not even sure what you’re thanking him for, but feeling like it needs to be said. You feel his hands tighten slightly on your waist. 
“Don’t mention it.” he breaths. There is a pause, your eyes glancing back up to him. Your heart skips a beat when his eyes shift over your face, flickering momentarily to your lips. “I owe you anyway.” he chuckles, pulling himself away slightly. Without his body pressed against yours, you're aware of the cold air is around you. As much as you want to pull him close again, you reluctantly remove your arms from him. 
You're about to ask him what he means by owing you when the sound of the gym doors opening startles you both. Nancy stands in the opening, peering out into the alleyway. Seeing her before she can make out your face in the dark, you take a step away from Billy, his hands falling from your waist. Finally seeing you, Nancy sighs.
“Hey, I was looking for you.” She says. You try to smile, tugging at your clothes, suddenly aware of how wrinkled they are. 
“Sorry, I was taking out the trash.” You explain, hoping that the darkness conceals the reddening of your face. Nancy’s eyes narrow, adjusting to the darkness, darting between you and Billy before settling on you. One brow quirked inquisitively. “Right.” she says. You know that her investigative mind is already spinning. “Just making sure you’re okay.” It's a question. Nancy knows what happened between Billy and Steve. She knows what he is capable of, something you had momentarily forgotten.
“I’m good.” you assure her, smiling as best you can. “I’ll be back in a second.” you say quickly. Nancy glances at Billy once more before nodding and closing the door. 
Exhaling, you turn to look at Billy. His gentle smile has been replaced by a cocky smirk, it makes you want to shove him. 
“Smooth.” He crows, stepping back to lean against the wall. Rolling your eyes you run a hand through your hair, goosebumps rising on the skin of your arms, trying to put the way Billy had felt against you out of your mind. Glancing at him, you watch as he fishes his pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket. You’re not sure what compels you, but you swallow past your embarrassment and speak up.
“Did you want to come inside?” You offer. Billy levels his eyes on you, a new cigarette dangling from his lips.
“Nah, I’m good ‘chaperoning’ from here.” He says, putting air quotes around the word, before retrieving his lighter and igniting the cigarette. Part of you wants to stay, another part wants him to come with you, but in the back of your mind you know that he will stay and you will go. That’s the way that it has to be, for now.
Turning, you head for the doors back to the bustling gym.
“I’ll see you around, Loca.” Billy calls after you.
Despite everything, you smile at the familiar goodbye.
“See you, Billy.” You reply, before opening the doors, walking back into the light of the gym, leaving Billy in the cold, dark, outside. 
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Part 1,... (Masterlist)...Part 21 (Coming Soon)...
AN: I hope you guys liked it! Finally a bit of steam in this slowburn!! Just a little taste of what's to come! Let me know what you guys think, leave a like of a comment! I read every one of them and appreciate it SO MUCH!
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gingericywolf · 8 months ago
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[Go to start] - Part 3 -
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He sailed until he found the entrace to the bay he saw from the valley. A long stretch of seaway cutting right in the middle of the island. He could not see were or if it ended. Once again he hopped on Billy's saddle. It would be useless to keep on with the raft if the seaway didn't cut straight across.
He kept to the right side, nothing too noticeable going on. Classic herbivores, a few rexes, loads of pteranodons.
The weak rexes provided great fighting experience for Billy, downing one after the other. As he flew away after one of these battles a big dust cloud and a loud screch stopped him. Talons of a bird, paws of a lion. Fur and feather mixed in one creature. A Griffin. A swirl of emotions swam inside him, not helped by the dark reds and purples of the creature. He didn't want to think of it now. He didn't want to think of him now. He put a note on the map for the spot and pressed on, one small weight seemingly lifting after it.
Over the next mountain a beautiful scenery surprised him. A big lake surrounded by plains, falling down in waterfalls, in rivers ans another waterfall until it reaced the ocean on the other side. Morellatops and Maewings roaming around under the shade of sparse trees. Not too far a second smaller lake. It seemed like a paradise.
He was about to land when a loud step and a huff made him yank the reins to go back up. The terror of every survivor, a wild Giganotosaurus, had just showed up just under him. One second too late and both him and Billy would have been turned into blood mush.
He landed on a higher area, looking at the fearsome beast whose teeth would cause tremendous bleeding. Very few creatures would survive against it.
But he wanted a closer look to the terrain. See were to possibly build. Place down a sleeping bag just in case. He looked his loyal pteranodon in the eyes, a crazy-possibly suicidal idea coming up. The pteranodon subtly shook his head, not wanting to risk it, but is mind was set.
They flew down, zooming next to the dinosaur.
'Ehy big head! Want to try some chicken wings with a side of scottish tastyness.'
He didn't need to, he definitely didn't need to as the Giga roared just at their sight and started chasing them, billy's frantic flap lf wings the only thing keeping them far away enough from the deadly maws, praying to not run out of stamina.
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It was his luck that the Giga got soon distracted by the easier ground preys, making quick work of them.
He circled around, back for the raft, knowing now that the inland stretch was a closed bay and he had to circumnavigate the whole area. It took him hours to get back to the same spot, a sleeping bag ready to place. He admired the view - ignoring the sounds of another Giga munching on the local wildlife- and flew back down over the waterfalls, counting the pros and cons of the area. It was definitely high on his list of places to live in, even with Giga's as neighbours and Rexe's trying to recreate the Land Before Time scene with the Brontos on a cliff.
Going on, he squeezed between the land and edge of the map, stopping as the day started to fade for a quick rest. A bright red argi caugth his attention. It was colored just like a big Ara macaw. He looked up at Bird; the feathered friend looking extremely exhausted by the travelling and the weight of the supplies. A friend would be nice for him.
While in the process of taming the colorful argentavis, a second looking stronger one got close. He ended up taming both and a passing doedicurus after a few hours.
Parrot and... he needed a name for the other one. 3 birds started to be too many to bring around.
He took the saddle off Bird to swap it on the stronger argentavis and finally laid down on his bed, resting.
His mind going back to the rex on the cliff. An high level female, if he could get her with the crazy male he saw early in the day he would be set for life. With a Giga roaming he had to be careful, while a trap started forming in his mind.
End part 3
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fragmcntedsouls · 9 months ago
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How were you ever supposed to process a death when it was your own? Billie hadn’t exactly dealt with her unresolved issues of the matter – nor really spoken to anybody about it, not even Briggs. Instead, like most things she sealed it up tight and locked it away; burying it as deeply as she possibly could. Except, it didn’t matter how deeply she thought that she had buried it – somehow, that box always split itself open. The OEA had taken her life once. They had tortured her, experimented on her to the point of death, but that would never happen again. 
No matter how tightly she boxed it all up, she still remembered how he held her. Remembered his tortured screams and sometimes when she closed her eyes, she could still hear him begging her not to leave. How desperately she had wanted to stay. To fight for him, to open her eyes - but as his body held onto hers, she recalled how after a long tiresome journey, she finally felt safe. Too exhausted. How desperately she wanted for none of that to matter now. For those thoughts to simply disappear for the both of them. She was living, breathing – alive; but it wasn’t enough to rid either of them of the haunting memory of what the OEA had done. His admission caused her entire body to ache. As though each nerve ending had been exposed. Her bottom lip trembled, to be loved by him, to be loved so intensely was a gift. “Every day you save me” Billie’s fingers traced down his arm, before taking his hand into her own “every day since the day that we met – you’ve saved me in one way or another.” Rolling her lips together, she fought to blink back tears that gathered in her eyes “i’m not going anywhere. They can't do that again, they won't.” 
Billie focused on calming her heartbeat, steadying the tremor of her bottom lip; understanding that he would be far more vigilant towards those signs now. She didn’t want him to worry about her – but again, in roles reversed; she knew that wasn’t a possibility. ‘I won’t let you fall’ never had she believed anything more. “I know you won’t” her brow creased, her head shaking just a little, but her eyes never left his, not even for a second. Although her admission was painful, she needed it. “I’m not okay” an unsteady breath filtered from exhausted lungs, her voice still hoarse from all of the forced screaming “but I will be. I’ll heal and we’ll take on whatever comes next together.” 
A soft smile caressed her features, the expression subconscious as he leaned into her touch and no matter how many times he would provoke a reminder, she would always counter it. “Maybe we all do, but not from each other. You’re the light in my life. My happiness - my whole heart. I’ve been lucky enough to be able to love you twice in this life, Briggs Mikaelson and even on my happiest days, my world will never be as bright as it is when you’re the centre of it.” Billie's smile gained a little more strength, raising herself to brush her lips against his as she spoke each word “we're better with each other.”  
Stepping closer as his fingers enclosed around the material of the shirt, Billie’s head titled as she released a slow and steady breath unable to refrain from teasing him just a little suggestively “huh, so that’s what inspiration feels like?” Her hand lifted again, returning the nape of his neck as she smoothed down the wet hair there “trust me, i’ve got plenty more inspiration where that came from.”
One arm eased beneath his, wrapping around his waist as though to take a little weight from his frame as she held him beneath the waters stream “right here” she promised, “always.” The water was eventually beginning to run a little clearer, having gone from crimson to a dusky pink. Each movement was seamless, her hand willingly guided by his own as he rose it towards his chest; the connection causing any residual tension to flee her frame. Biting the inside of her lip to contain the smile that threatened her, the adoration was clear from her eyes alone. To be loved by him was a gift. “Good, because that’s kinda what I was going for” she teased, but the sentiment choked her up as she spoke. All she had ever wanted was to be seen as anything other than death. But life? Even she couldn’t comprehend how, but it was clear that he meant each and every word. “You’re the best thing that's ever happened to me too, you always have been.”
Billie pushed her damp curls back from her features with her free hand before returning it to his neck, she then rose up to capture his lips with a longing kiss; the warmth of the water dousing both of them now. Smiling into the kiss, a subtle hum vibrated against his lips, her palm detecting each thud of his heartbeat. Her hand slowly wandered down his chest, only lifting her lips from his enough to glance down towards his torso, seeing wounds that only seemed to be producing fresh blood. She could only imagine how much agony he was still in, carefully manoeuvring her digits between the wounds as not to aggravate them further “you’re still – bleeding” both concern and confusion laced her tone, eyes lifting to meet his again “is that – shouldn't they be healing?”
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The loss of her, holding her as she slipped away, it was the brokenness. He used to say he'd never fall in love, that it wasn't his thing. The truth of it was he'd never love again. Tonight had opened up a rage, his grief converting into an unquenchable fire. That night with Billie had been a light dimming into darkness. It had been hours in the night, in an empty place, until there had been no question she'd never be opening her eyes. The hardest thing he'd ever done was walk away from where he laid her in final rest. It had felt wrong to leave without her. "Billie, I won't survive it," he muttered, "to keep breathing when you're not here...that's death without peace. So it has to be my responsibility. I have to be strong enough to save you. It's all I've tried to be since: someone who would have saved you." And then he couldn't save her, couldn't save Riley, couldn't save anybody.
With everything heightened, he didn't want to cheat. He'd always be attuned to her, but now he could hear the subtle changes to the rhythm of her heart and the breath trapped in her throat. He could tell she was fighting the reliving, feeling the whirlwind they'd been through tonight--were still going through. Her body wore the signs of her suffering, the bite of her lip the sign of her pain. Pain he may not be able to take either. But she had to be ready to tell him all of that. "I know, but this--you and me--it's real too. And if we have to make the rest of it real, then we'll take it on together. I won't let you fall."
Leaning into her touch, it was as though the pain could dissipate, a distraction from the way it ripped through his body in every other moment. When he focused on her, it wasn't so bad. "I need forgiveness for a lot of things," he argued softly. He kept provoking these reminders, and he knew it wouldn't be the last of her reassurances. It felt impossible to believe she loved him, even more so that she needed him. After all he'd failed to do to protect her, he had been proven rather useless already. "I need you," he corrected, emphatically, "I'm better with you."
The press of her lips to his temple brought his eyes to close briefly, to savor and memorize the moment. It was a much needed breath of playfulness, one small reminder they hadn't been broken completely. His fingers gripping lightly on the fabric of one of his shirts she was wearing, a light pull against one corner of his lips as he teased, "you should consider motivational speaking. I feel very...inspired."
He wanted it to stop, to finally have some peace again, but it felt like an impossibly long journey ahead. He felt her body graze against his as she stepped closer, skin-on-skin where her hand met the back of his neck. The pain was excruciating, and he wished, in part, that she had left so she never had to witness this. The other part, the selfish part, found it less miserable with her here.
Opening his eyes, he ran his fingers lightly across her hip. "I'm with you," he repeated, fighting against the rush of memory--hearing the same assurance he and Asher gave each other at the gala. "You're here." She was his anchor, he needed her. And better than that, he loved her. "Billie Dawson," he fought to steady his breath, to focus on her and her only. She didn't have to stand in here with him, hold him through it, but she did. That was who she was. "You're the best damn thing that's ever happened to me." Taking her hand, he guided it down to linger over his heart as he spoke, "you are life to me. You're my life."
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itsstrange · 3 years ago
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Solace
Relationship: Billy Butcher x Reader
Prompt: “I know you’ll always love her but you need to keep living/going,”
A/N: Just wanted to apologize for taking so long to deliver this request, I’ve just been very busy with life that I stopped writing for a while but I’m so excited and happy that I got to finish this Fic!! Another reason why I took long to finish this was because I was trying to add as much details as I can before I published it, and with that being said I really hope y’all like this!! 💚✨
Requested by @vegetarianmonster
->Takes place right after {2.08} <-
Got a prompt in mind? Click Here
Summary: Losing his wife caused nothing but pain, anger and lost, however, it also made Butcher realize a couple things.
Word Count: 5.4K
Warnings: Mention of Death, Hurt, Comfort, love confessions, Fluff.
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Enjoy! ✨
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“You sure you’re okay?”
“I’ve had worse don’t worry,” (Y/n) softly grunts as she lowers her shirt, hiding the bandages around her torso,
M.M scoffs as he puts away the medical supplies, “Fine. Just don’t be hollerin’ me when you start coughin’ up blood,”
(Y/n) carefully chuckles at the man. She knew he didn’t mean it, he cared far too much to let her die from.. anything really.
Sitting on the trunk, legs dangling in the air, (Y/n) let’s out an exhausted sigh as she clutches her side. The day has been truly fucked and extremely long. The air around them was still tense, everyone felt it and everyone was affected by it. It was worse coming back in the car, dead silence engulfed the small space, felt as if one small simple noise would trigger the awaiting burning flame.
Once they had arrived to the park, everyone couldn’t be more eager to get off the car and breathe freely, yet it still felt like everyone was walking on egg shells.
“What a fucking day,” She whispers to herself, earning an agreement noise from the man beside her,
“He’ll never outlive it,” M.M comments, but continues with, “At least not on his own,”
(Y/n) shakes her head in disbelief, “Who would? You can’t just pretend..— you shouldn’t,”
“He will,” That had her looking over to the man, they give each other a knowing look before she slowly nods her head along with a soft ‘yeah’.
Silence settles between them once again, birds chirping, cars honking in the distance, and trees swaying from the wind is only heard around them. ‘Don’t do it. He won’t want it, he’ll push you away just like he did the first time. Let him grieve alone, in his own way, his own pace’. The voices argue in her head as she thinks about it. A part of her knows it’s a terrible idea, but another part fears of leaving him alone to soak it all in by himself. Knowing from experience, (Y/n) knows it’s dangerous to accept the feelings alone, nothing good will ever come out of it.
Knowing too well that her mind is all made up, she carefully hops off the trunk, slightly groaning when pain shoots up her right side. With a hand holding on to her wound, she slowly makes her way across the field, ignoring the way M.M is eyeing her as she walks away, but not bothering to protest or stop her from her plan. He knew too well it would be no use with her, but he also knew it’s what he needed.
It didn’t take long for (Y/n) to reach them. But not wanting to disturb the grieving pair, she stood leaning against a tree trunk. Keeping her distance. Ray-ban shades on her face and cigarette between her lips, she watches them both.
From where she stood she can see Butcher and the kid sitting next to each other on the grass, looking out towards the lake of the park, both silent as they most likely replay the devastating memory.
Guilt settles heavily on (Y/n’s) chest as she watched them both, staring out to the lake with a sadden, pained, glazed look on their faces. Oh how much she wished she could have done better, fought harder, but there was only so much she could do, she was human after all. Going up against a hundred year old supercharged Supe with immunity towards bullets did not cut it, and it was moments like that-that had (Y/n) second guessing on her normality. She knew, if she had the V in her system she’d be able to fight against Stormfront and give them time to make it out. She would have made it out if things were just.. different. If (Y/n) was different.
(Y/n) is brought out of her thoughts the same time Butcher begins to pull on his necklace, and to her surprise watches as he gently slips it over the kids head. The sight alone tugged on the girls heart. Billy Butcher may be a complete maniac, mess, asshole, scoundrel human being, but he still has a heart. Yes, it has been ripped to shreds numerous times, printed with anger, hate, and violence, but at the end of the day.. that same torn up heart—that is barely hanging on, still shows a glimpse of light. He may not see it, but she can. And it’s enough for her to work with, gives her some hope that he is still worth fixing, or at least to put back together.
The sound of tires rolling on gravel and sounds of doors shutting breaks her focus from the pair. Straight ahead was Mallory and her guards, just as the Deputy Director makes her way over, Butcher and the kid get up from the ground. (Y/n) remains in her spot, quietly watching as they make their way towards the SUV’s and nodding at her boss when greeted. As the brute man gives his farewells to the kid, (Y/n) takes another hit of her cigarette before squishing it against the bark of the tree and turning around to head up the hill.
She’s lingered long enough, least she can do is give them the space to say goodbye. ‘Was it a goodbye?’ She thinks to herself. ‘Or will the kid be around every once and a while from now on?’ Who knew, whatever Mallory has planned for the kid, (Y/n) knows he’ll be in good hands. She just hopes whatever Mallory did plan on doing with him will be a great benefit for him and everyone else, the kid has been through so much already. He should—deserves, to know the whole truth about anything and everything that will occur in his life from now on. He’s been lied to almost his entire childhood— for the right reasons obviously— but now it’s time for the truth, and only the truth. He’s seen already with his own eyes how the real world is, painfully, but it’ll shape him up to be a better person than his father will ever be. Not that he’ll ever have to prove himself to anyone, but he’ll know as he continues to grow, that he can and will become a better person. With the love and education that Becca taught him, it’ll guide him through the right path.
As (Y/n) made it back up the hill, Frenchie and Kimiko were climbing back into the car. Getting closer M.M approaches her, slipping his shades on his face.
“Our names are clear. We’re heading back to the shop to pack up, gonna tag along?” He motions his head to the vehicle behind him,
Oh how good it felt to hear those words. Not that her time with The Boys has been an adventure, an exhausting, traumatic adventure, but she sure misses her actual bed.
Glancing over her shoulder, (Y/n) debates whether or not she should stay, but eventually turns back towards M.M, giving him a short nod about joining them. Even if her skin crawled at the thought of leaving him alone during times like this, she knows it’s best to give him space, as much as she fought the urge of walking back down the hill to embrace him in her small frame, she knows him too well. He’d only brush her off, leave her in the forest without a word and will most likely disappear from her life. Again. So, to save her from the pain, she gave him the space he needs right now, even if she knew it was total bullshit, but she humored him and respected his choice. For now.
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“You good from here?” M.M’s voice settles behind her as she shoves the last piece of clothing into her duffle,
She glances over her shoulder, nodding at the man standing in the entrance of her so-called room.
Which really was just a divider separating her space from the rest of the basement, and only having a curtain as a door. Her bed, well, sofa bed, was up against the wall on the right, a 30x12 5-shelf muscle steel rack on the left to keep her clothes and a wooden crate by her bed that had a lava lamp for a light, which was a gift from Hughie, is all she really had in her space. Along with her Beretta M9 by her head and Winchester 1897 by the shelf. Wasn’t much.. like at all, but she didn’t need anything else, she wasn’t exactly living in a dorm room to have anything else.
“Yeah. Yeah I’m good,” She sends him a small smile before sitting down on her bed with a sigh,
It had been an hour or so since she left him alone in the park and he still hasn’t showed up, nor has he reached out for.. honestly anything, anyone, and she couldn’t not help thinking about him. She worried about him, worried he’d do something stupid, per usual, but worried he’ll do anything that’ll put his life in danger right before disappearing into the wind, leaving her again. Even if she already had a gut feeling that’s exactly he’s planning on doing, she just wanted to be able to see him one last time before he leaves. For good this time. Maybe even.. let him know the truth. If it really was it this time, really was a goodbye, then she’d want him to know the truth.
“Hey,” M.M softly calls her, watching her every movement and reading her thoughts just by looking at her face, “Don’t waste your time waiting on him,”
(Y/n) let’s out a small sigh through her nose as she closes her eyes. He was right. She knew he was right, and she also knew deep down that she’d leave at some point.
“And as much as Butcher is.. Butcher, he wouldn’t want you to either,” (Y/n) slowly nods her head, fingers fiddling with the zipper on her duffle,
“Yeah… yeah I know,” At her last words she spares a glance at him with a faint smile on her lips before looking back down at her duffle,
M.M watches her in silence for another couple of seconds, observing her form, watching as she tugs on a splash of dried paint on her duffle, then let’s a small smile tug on his lips.
They’ll both be fine. Eventually. He strongly believes they will, mostly because both pair are scary similar to one another and knows both pair need each other, they’re each other’s anchor, just like Hughie is Butcher’s canary, he knew the same rules applied when it came to (Y/n) being his anchor and vice versa.
“Just don’t be a stranger kid,” M.M comments once again, bringing a wide sincere smile on her lips this time,
(Y/n) looks over at him again, smile still plastered when she turns around, walking towards the lava lamp. Hughie wouldn’t mind, she thinks to herself as she unplugs it from the wall.
“Here, give it to your little one,” M.M only holds out his hand with a shake of his head,
“Keep it. You’ll give it to her yourself, her birthday is in a month,” (Y/n) drops her gaze down with a shy smile, feeling warmth in her chest at the small invitation,
Nodding her head she steps towards him to embrace him in her arms, which he accepts by draping his own large frame around her.
“Drive safe,” She mumbles against his shirt before pulling away,
He nods, “Only if you will,”
With that he leaves her corner. From where she stood, she watches him grab his own duffle bag along with a stuffed penguin in his hands. She doesn’t ever remember him getting the plushie, but that doesn’t remove the soft smile from her lips. Once he walks up the stairs, hears the basement door close shut (Y/n) let’s out an exhausted sigh as she zips up her bag. Grabbing her Beretta from the bed and placing it behind her pants, she grabs her rifle and duffle bag before walking out her room.
“Mon ami,” That lovely accent makes her turn, seeing Frenchie walking towards her with a small smile,
She smiles back, placing her duffle on the couch and slinging her rifle across her chest before embracing him in a firm hug.
“Tu fais attention mon ami,”
She nod her head, hugging him a bit harder, “You too Frenchie. Both of you,” She said it directly at them both once she saw Kimiko walking out of her own room,
After letting go of the Frenchman, Kimiko immediately braces her into her small warmth. Wrapping her arms around her waist as (Y/n) wraps her own arms around her frame, rocking them too as they enjoy their farewells, feeling her smile widen when she hears her soft chuckle. As she pulls back she begins talking to (Y/n) in her own way, she wasn’t as good as Frenchie is to understand her language, but she did learn a couple things, as well pick up a few swear words from her.
‘I will miss you. You will always be my friend. My family’
The last word has her chest warming up, as well as feeling a couple tears building behind her eyes.
“You’ll always be my family too,” She tells her before embracing her in her arms once again,
“Take care of this one for us okay?” She asks her after pulling away, which she nods with a wide smile as she looks over at Frenchie,
She smiles at them both, feeling her heart tug when Frenchie wraps an arm around her small shoulders. They’ll be okay. She think to herself. Giving them a wave goodbye, she turns around, grabs her bag from the couch and head towards the stairs, but once she hit the third step she turns around once again to give them another farewell before climbing the rest of the stairs. Walking down the pawn shop she waves goodbye at Aziz, the owner behind the counter, which happens to be an elder man with light caramel skin, with a grey mustache and grey trimmed hair underneath a black Irish flat cap. He is a very kind, friendly, humorous, elderly man who went beyond the line in accepting to keep them all hidden underneath his pawn shop. Turned out he has known Frenchie much more longer then she knew and even offered him the basement to start his little operation, which if you thought about it, he sounded a lot more dangerous than he looks.
After bidding her farewells with Aziz and promising him she’d visit every once and a while with small gifts, she left the shop. Walking down the walkway with her duffle hanging on one shoulder and rifle sling across her chest she makes her way towards the small alley where her car awaits. However, as soon as she turns the corner she sees the one and only Mallory leaning against her car, cigarette in between her lips, black shades on her face. With a black SUV waiting in the distance not too far from her.
(Y/n) already had a itching feeling on why she was there, waiting for her against her car, and a part of her wished she was wrong, but knew she wasn’t.
“What are you doing here?” She asks once she’s within reach,
Mallory exhales the tobacco with a heavy sigh, “Don’t wanna take your time away, just came to offer you about a proposition and I’ll be on my way,”
No, leave. Tell her no. Is the voice that kept playing in her mind, but of course (Y/n’s) heart went ahead and decided for her. Nodding her head for the woman to continue, (Y/n) unlocks her trunk to toss her stuff inside while she listens.
“Putting together a team, off books with the support of Newman to keep tabs of the Supes,” Mallory watches her very carefully, she may not have shown curiosity through her body, but Mallory can read her like a goddamn book and knew she was interested,
“What did Butcher say?” (Y/n) asks instead, knowing too well she had offer him the same idea first,
Even if a part of her was wondering if he had taken the job or if he declined it. She was hoping he did.
“Didn’t say. But you and I both know what he’s planning on doing,” Yes she did, he’s running away, disappearing off to god knows where,
(Y/n) shuts the trunk close in silence, lost in thought about Butcher, about the offer, why she should take it, why she should leave it, why she should just disappear as well, why she should just grow up and face reality, there’s nothing for her to run away from. Her heart was there in New York and in what she was trained to do, her heart knew what it wanted, what it craved. Who it needed.
“Think about it. You have my number, give me a call when you decided, or don’t.” Mallory says after a minute of silence and begins walking towards the SUV that was slowly meeting her halfway,
However, right before she climbs into the backseat she turns to her again, “I could really use your help (Y/n),” She says sincerely before climbing into the truck,
She watches the SUV drive away then leans against her car, thinking about the offer, weighing the cons and pros, but knew it was pointless when her heart had already made the decision for her.
++++
(Y/n) stops right in the entrance of her doorway, observing every inch of the place that was once home, observing how much of a mess those fuckers made when they raided her apartment. Literally looks like a full blown war erupted in her living room, the couch was flipped upside down, books, papers, glass scattered throughout the floor, her t.v smashed in and on the ground as well. Table lamps thrown across the room, what is that cereal? Jesus even that was also scattered on the floor, if the living room looked like shit she sure as hell knows the rest of the rooms aren’t any prettier.
With an exhausted sigh, she tosses her duffle to the side, places her rifle against the wall, shuts the door, then stands still for a couple seconds before picking up the first item off the floor, and that’s how she spends half her night, cleaning the living room and kitchen as much as she can. By time she was semi done with the living room it had already hit 10:30 pm, she didn’t know—she didn’t want to know how long she spent cleaning but better than to do it tomorrow morning.
She was in the middle of sweeping the ground when a knock is heard at her door. Placing the broom against the couch, which she had flipped back to its original state, she wipes her hands on her jeans and walks towards the door. One hand reaching for the knob while the other reached behind to grip on to her gun, a habit she had but now these days she never knows. Slightly creaking the door open she peeks through the crack, feeling her face and hand relaxing when she sees who’s standing at her door.
“Postmates,” Butcher greets with his small smirk and raises a bag of food, her food that she had ordered 20 minutes ago,
With a soft sigh she opens her door wider and steps aside for him to enter, which he does so gradually with that same small little smirk on his lips.
“How d’you find me?” She asks after shutting the door,
Butcher, who was observing her apartment for the first time, bends down to pick up the broom that apparently had fallen on the floor before speaking, “Still got yor phone linked to that find yor shithead friends app,”
Shit. She had forgotten about that, but honestly didn’t regret leaving it on, otherwise he wouldn’t have gotten here.
Without another word, or even waiting for her response, Butcher places the broom against the wall before making his way inside the kitchen. Where he begins to unload her food on the island table. Just as she makes her presence appear by the door frame, Butcher extends a black plastic fork her way without looking up, but does so after a while of having his arm in the air. Hazel eyes lock with (E/c) orbs staring at him, observing him.
From her point of view she can still see dirt stains on his face, hair tussled on top of his head, coat stained with dirt and mud, then notices how his left hand—his knuckles were still bandaged up. But what she first gathered was the exhaustion, the pain, the defeat written on his face. She’s seen exhaustion on him, she’s seen the pain, but not once has she seen him with such defeat.
Billy Butcher is a man driven by anger, violence, determination. So seeing him give up in life, was painful for (Y/n). She hated seeing him this way, she hated how much he’s been through, she hated how much he’s lost throughout the years she’s known him, and she just hated she couldn’t comfort him in the way she wanted to comfort him. Not that he’d allowed her anyway. It just wouldn’t be right, it wouldn’t be appropriate, not after losing his wife. So instead of saying anything that’ll only add on to the tension around them, she quietly walks towards him and takes the fork from in between his fingers before sitting down on the table.
“Want some?” She asks him, opening a takeaway box of chow mein, having a knowingly feeling he hasn’t ate,
Butcher shakes his head as he leans his hands on the table, catches the moment where she rolls her eyes as she pours a good amount of noddles on a plate before sliding the takeaway box at him. Tired eyes glance down at the medium size box in between his arms, then softly chuckles as he grabs a fork of his own before grabbing some noddles of his own. After both of them had a good portion of food on their plates, they both sat, well more like (Y/n) sat and Butcher stood across from her, and quietly enjoyed their dinner. More like breakfast, lunch and dinner. (Y/n) doesn’t even remember if she had ate or not, it’s been that long of a fucking day.
“Mallory talk to you?” Butcher asks after a while of silence, fingers tracing the brand sticker of his beer bottle,
You hadn’t even noticed when you stopped eating until he had spoken out. Apparently you had finished eating ten minutes ago and have been twirling some leftover noddles with your fork, awhile lost in thought. Thinking about the tragic day that had occurred, about the offer that you yet still have let Mallory know your decision, and of course thinking about what will happened once Butcher leaves your apartment. Well you know, but what you don’t know is how things will be left between you too.
Glancing up from her nearly empty plate, (Y/n) meets with tired hazel orbs observing her. Without saying anything she only nods her head, carefully watching for his reaction. Which he only stares at her for a couple seconds before inhaling deeply through his nose and nods.
“As she should. She needs skills like yors,” Is all he says as he takes the swig of his beer and gently places it beside him,
(Y/n) debates on her response, knowing too well what his answer would be, but states it either way.
“Same to you,” She watches as his eyes have randomly found her table interesting, then catches a very, very faint smile tugging on his lips,
He slowly shakes his head, “Nah. She’s ‘ad enough,” He stays quiet for a good minute before continuing with, “Fink it’s finally time to go off grid.. ‘ad enough o’ this life,”
His words punch a whole in her heart, she was expecting them sooner rather than later, but it still stung like a bitch. Having him say them out loud made everything too real, made it seem as if time was honestly slipping away, made it seem as if her world just got much more darker.
“Tell you the bloody truth… I’m tired. Just.. fuckin’ tired,” Butcher remained staring down at the table, hands now clasped together,
Again, she hasn’t seen him this defeated, this lost, and she hated seeing him this way. She couldn’t blame him, she couldn’t tell him not to feel this way, it just wasn’t possible. Not now anyways. Seeing him giving up right in front of her left a bad sour feeling in her stomach, she’s seen him at his lowest back when they had gotten back from the military, and it was the same look he had on right now. However, she knew it was worse. Much worse.
If the war they both fought alongside didn’t fuck him over like it had done to her, then she’s certain losing his wife right in front of him sure did. It was the last stitch that had him together, and now with Becca gone, that last piece of string had finally given its last strength to hold every emotion Butcher had stored inside. Now Butcher isn’t like any other civilian who’s emotions have been broken free, no, Butcher was like a volcano combined with a nuclear bomb. Now that his emotions have been set free from its confinements, the brute man was literally a burning volcano ready to erupt at the slightest thing.
However, what worried (Y/n) the most was his mentality. His plan to end the pain, the loneliness, the disappointment, the loss, the guilt, everything that was possibly weighing on his chest she worried he’d use a bullet to end it all once he was alone. That was her fear. So, the least she can try and do is get him to change his mind, even if she knows trying to convince him is like trying to convince a bull he does not have to ram into everything and everyone that steps in his way. But she’ll try regardless, because she loves and cares for him far too much not to.
“Listen to me Billy..,” She calls him by his first name, which she rarely does and immediately causes the Brit’s eyes to meet her own as she continues, “I know you’ll always love her.. but you need to keep going,”
She stays quiet for a second then adds with a shaken tone, “Billy.. I need you to keep going… because I can’t live in a world knowing you won’t be in it,”
Panic begins to rise in her chest when she realizes what she had said. Practically admitted in front of him. She can’t exactly back track her words, can’t exactly cover them with something else, she had already said them out loud. For him to hear. Might as well right?
“I just can’t live without you Butcher. I lost you once.. please don’t make me lose you again.” She claims the truth, referring to the time when Butcher had went awol when the group had broken up the first time,
She never heard from him again. It hurt her, it broke her when she knew he wasn’t coming back, until he did and it was then that all her emotions she had once felt for the British man had came crashing down on her once again. And now, she was laying them all out on the table, right in front of him.
When she had finished ranting her feelings towards the man, she finally averts her eyes from her plate that have been staring at the same noddle as all the words were pouring out from her, and settles them with hazel ones. Who were staring at her with an unreadable expression, not making the heaviness in her chest any better, in fact it only made it worse. As Butcher quietly stayed staring at her, not moving a muscle, (Y/n) thought she had ruined things, made them worse by blabbering her goddamn feelings to a man who had just lost his wife.
Nice going idiot. She curses at herself, not being— not wanting to look up at his eyes, fearing she’ll see disgust or disappointment. So, instead she closes her eyes with a shake of her head as if telling him to forget everything that had been said, and stands from her chair to walk out the kitchen. However, before she can step a foot away from the table she feels a large hand gripping onto her wrist and pulling before feeling a pair of rough lips clashing with her own, then feeling a hand settle softly on her cheek.
“Is this your way of saying goodbye?” She whispers against his lips as she breaks the kiss,
He stays quiet for a couple seconds before replying with, “It were.. if me plan went to shit,” Then continues with, “As much I luv Becca I know ‘ave to keep movin’ forward.. but that’s only if yer’re by me side,”
She furrows her brows, not quite understanding where all of these confessions are coming from. She never did think he’d feel the same way about her, considering all he ever wanted was to get revenge for her, then save her after finding out she’s alive. His main focus and priority was Becca. His wife. So of course she’s a little confuse at the moment.
“W-What?” Is all she’s able to say,
Butcher softly sighs through his nose, letting his thumb rub soothing circles against her cheek as he stares straight into her eyes.
“I didn’t realize it or maybe I were just bein’ a cunt and afraid to admit it but.. it’s always been you, (Y/n).” He softly whispers and continues with, “After.. after that night with Becca.. I’ve realized that I’ll I wanted was you. But like always I’ve kept it ‘idden and went on with the bleedin’ day,”
He’s in shock still. He’s not sure what he’s saying. She kept telling herself. Which was understandable for someone to lose someone close to them, so all she did was gently grab his hand that was still on her cheek and shook her head.
“Butcher, you’re not sure—,”
“I fuckin’ know wot I want,” He interrupts her, grabbing both sides of her face now and itches closer to bee, lips ghosting hers as he speaks once again, “So please tell me.. that you feel sumfink, uvverwise I’ll walk out-,”
He wasn’t able to finish his words considering she latched her lips with his. Both of them melt against one another from relief as they deepen the kiss. The hand that was gripping onto the labels of his jacket was now making its way towards his bearded jaw, where her fingers gently tug on his beard before making their way into his hair at the nape of his neck, and tug firmly. She wasn’t sure if she or him let out a shuddering breath, but neither of them cared, all they were focused on was each other’s lips, warmth. Although, she was sure that in between kisses it began tasting a bit salty, and knew right away Butcher was crying. Causing her to kiss him much firmer and hold him tightly against her body.
“I’m with you,” She says in between kisses and feeling his hold on her waist get firmer as he tries pulling her closer to his chest and buries his face in the crook of her neck,
Tears silently rolled down his face, she knew this because every now and then he’d let out a hot shuddering breath against her neck, awhile sometimes rubbing his cheek against her skin causing him to smear the tears. But she didn’t care, she allowed him to cry silently, allowed him to hug her in a death grip, allowed him to peck kisses on her neck, because she was hugging him with the same grip while promising him she’s here with him. That things will get better because she’ll be there with him.
They remained in that position in the kitchen for another good 10 minutes before (Y/n) guides him towards the living room by the hand. Where they both laid in each other’s arms in silence, giving each other kisses every once and a while until Butcher began dozing off by her fingers lazily drawing circles on his chest. It wasn’t long until he finally fell asleep, hearing her last words ring in his ears, sending him in a safe, peaceful sleep.
“I’m always with you Billy,”
—————
-Hope y’all enjoyed this angst fic! ✨
-Again, sorry to the requester for taking so long but I never did break my promise and I finally delivered ♥️✨
-Make sure to Turn On Post Notifications!! 🔔for more Updates!!
—————
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thebreakfastgenie · 2 years ago
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📓!!!! 💜💜💜
My very first MASH fic idea which I started and I'm still planning to finish someday, was about a Pierce family reunion in 1953. Everyone is all excited to see Hawkeye now that he's back and like, kind of a war hero, and Daniel asks if he's up for it and he says yes but like... is he though? This is very soon after he gets back, still late summer of 1953, and he's spending most of his time either sleeping or trying to, because he's exhausted. This isn't meant to be a particularly dark take on post-war Hawkeye, it's more that he just got back. So they have the reunion and he goes and it's probably not a great idea, Daniel keeps asking if he's sure, but he says he's fine.
And Billy is there.
He should have known Billy would be there but he didn't really think about it. And it's not like he hasn't seen Billy, but he hasn't seen him since he remembered. He's seeing him with new eyes. Billy is still kind of the golden child, but a bit peaked-in-high-school. He has an unremarkable job (nothing as impressive as being a surgeon) and he wasn't in Korea (I haven't decided yet about WWII but either he had desk job and he's been bragging about his service or he had flat feet or something). And Hawkeye is getting all this attention because he's like, kind of a war hero, and Billy is definitely a little jealous, but also Hawkeye very much does not want this attention and he's trying to hide behind the potato salad and white-knuckling cans of beer.
So everything settles down a little bit and Billy starts telling a story about his kids (because he has a perfectly nice wife and two little boys and Hawkeye never thought to wonder about how he treated them until now) and tells everyone how his boys rented a rowboat a couple weeks ago and he never realized how dangerous those damn things were and he's laughing about it.
And then he brings up the incident with Hawkeye from when they were kids and there are a few different ways this might go and I haven't decided which one yet. One is that he just mentions the time Hawkeye almost drowned and leaves out the details, both true and false, probably leading to one of the older adults reminding everyone Billy saved Hawkeye's life. And in that version I'm not sure if Hawkeye speaks up with the truth or not. Another way is that Billy actually tells the truth, casually, something he feels a little bad about but, well, kids are awful, right? And it's been so long, surely it doesn't matter now, which is why he's okay with everyone knowing.
In all of these, Billy isn't being manipulative or deliberately abusive. He's not evil. It's about how something that can be a small thing, a cruel but ultimately minor action he took as a kid, can be a much, much larger thing for the person it happened to. Billy has moved on and he really has grown (there is no indication he is abusive towards his wife or kids it's just something Hawkeye wonders about) but that experience was so traumatic for Hawkeye it followed him to a war. Plus, talking about it now, talking about Billy's kids talking out a dangerous rowboat, and all the kids in the family are running around the table, for a recently post-GFA Hawkeye is.... a lot.
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buddiebeginz · 1 year ago
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I'll never get over how over the top the hatred is for a teenage character who barely did anything while he was on the show.
All of the scenes regarding Lucas in relation to Billy are open for interpretation.
Billy tells his kid sister to stay away from a boy who makes her upset (who he literally watched fight with her) and who her dad probably wouldn't like her hanging with and would probably kick Billy's ass for.
Later in the season Billy grabs and pushes Lucas after he finds Max alone in a house with a bunch of boys. This was after Steve lied to him and not long after his dad had attacked him. Judging by Billy's behavior while fighting with Steve (i.e. sobbing while he was beating the shit out of Steve) he was likely in the middle of a ptsd episode from the earlier encounter with his dad.
I don't know why Billy antis like to use these two scenes as some kind of gotchu moment to point to Billy's alleged racism. In the first place nothing about any of these scenes is explicitly racist. They're all very much open for interpretation. And I know many people love to point to interviews where the Duffers have flat out said they intended for Billy to be racist but here's the thing what a creator intends does not always end up on the screen. Also watching media is a very subjective experience. Look at all the non canon ships people ship because that's how they interpreted two characters in a show/movie. Most importantly Dacre himself as said he didn't see Billy as racist and therefore didn't play him that way.
The thing is even if Billy had some racist ideas from being raised by an abusive homophobic (probably also racist) asshole of a father that shouldn't mean he deserved to die. He deserved to grow and change and have a better relationship with his sister which I truly believed he wanted. I get people disliking Billy if they see him as racist but I'll never get the complete vitriol that a lot have in the ST fandom to the point that to this day people still make posts celebrating the horrific way he died. Speaking as someone who grew up in a similar environment to Billy it hurts so much everytime I see people saying awful things about him. He was just a teenager and never really even got to experience life. I don't agree with everything he said and did but I do believe Billy had the ability to become a better version of himself and he deserved that chance.
The worst part of talking about all this in the main ST fandom is that it's impossible to have any kind of civil dialogue, like I see this scene/character one way and you see it another no big deal. A good portion of this fandom has decided that Billy is a racist and literally deserved to die and anyone who so much as tries to see the complexities of a fictional character is a racist bully sympathizer. It's honestly exhausting. Like if you dislike Billy and if you see him as racist fine you do that in your own spaces and allow us the same courtesy to see him how we want in ours.
howww do you not care billys literally racist bro 😭😭
the thing to me is like. it’s fiction.
i obviously don’t have the same beliefs as this fictional character and neither does the harringrove fandom. in fact, it’s full of beautiful people, just like the actors who play billy and steve.
i’ve seen people write fanfiction for worse “villains” and i keep scrolling bc it’s not that deep. some people ship hannigram and that fandom isn’t endorsing cannibalism by making art for those characters. fiction is meant to be played in, not policed.
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pixla · 3 years ago
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hi hon! i adore your writing and i have a request for tommy: so you know that scene in the caves when alice breaks her leg and cindy has to like put the bone back into place? could that be with tommy x gn! reader instead? and both of them have a really really cute moment where the reader confesses how they never felt alive until they met and started dating tommy? they both survive and flashforward with fluffy smut pls?
Special thanks to the j-st-patricks-day and all my friends who helped with the process of writing this fic <3
broken bones and beating hearts
Tommy slater x nb!reader
Warnings: swearing, graphic descriptions of murder, graphic descriptions of injury (eg. Broken bones and stabbings/cuts), Possessed!Cindy, alice dies, Arnie dies, vomiting, fluff, pet-names, knocking out teeth, sex, unprotected sex, this au doesn’t fit with any of the other films (feel free to tell me if there’s any others)
Word count: 3.2k
POVC= point of view change
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Tommy gripped your wrists pulling you out through the narrow cavern as it collapsed only seconds later. “Fuck!” You tucked your legs close to your body, trying to shake the feeling of Cindy's grip around your ankles. “What the fuck is happening?” You looked up as Tommy still held you close, you both too scared to move from the previous near death experience.
Everything was normal. You had all just ran out into the woods, you and Alice teasing Cindy about some stupid witchcraft book she had found in nurse lane’s office. But then Cindy decided to slash Alice and Arnie’s guts open with a machete.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck!” You cried, bawling your hands into fists, wandering down what felt like endless hallways. You both soon realised that you had been going in a circle. It didn’t make any sense, it felt like another dimension or a mirror maze, where everything looked the same, maybe even was the same. “Y/N.” You turned your head to face tommy. “What?” He looked at you confused. “I didn’t say anything.”
You were going to shake it off as you just imagining it, but then you heard it again. “Y/N!” This time you knew it wasn’t Tommy, it was a woman. “Hello?!” You yelled out, hoping that someone had finally come to your rescue, but Tommy just continued to look at you like you were crazy.
You strayed from Tommy’s side following as the voice repeated your name. “Where are you going?” Tommy yelled after you as you wandered, not bothering to pay any attention to his questions.
You followed the voice, bending through the same corridors and hallways, not knowing where you’d end up. It was when you twisted round one corner you halted in your steps. It was a huge room, far larger than any of the ones you had previously found. But the greatest way it stood out was the mass in the centre of the room.
It was dark and fleshy, like clumps of meat thrown into a pile. You gasped as you stood closer gaining a better look at the thing. It was alive. It rose up and down almost like it was breathing and it thumped like a beating heart. With each whisper of your name you grew closer, drawn to it. You reached your hand out transfixed, but when your hand melted into its flesh, you froze.
It all flashed through your brain so fast. Cyrus Miller, ruby lane, billy baker…Cindy Berman. It was every single one of those shadyside phycos, even Cindy. It was all of the pain, all of the suffering and all of the evil. You lifted your hand, a thick slime dragging with. You backed up slowly, expecting to hit a wall. You were soon proved wrong when you felt your body fly backwards.
You cried out as you landed with a thud, Tommy finally catching up to you, peering over to find you clutching your leg in pain. “Shit, are you okay?!”
He had jumped down helping to lift you from the pit. You sobbed, tears running down your cheeks like a broken faucet, your hands clutching at His shirt. Tommy held you running his finger gently through your hair, shushing you softly as you buried yourself into his warmth.
Tommy gently slipped from your hold, leaning down to examine the damage. It was bad. So bad, you could practically see the bone protruding from the skin. You felt your gut wrench at the sight causing you to lean over beside you, regurgitating your dinner onto the cold cave floor. “Don’t look, okay? Just look at me.” Tommy leant over wiping your mouth with his jacket. You nodded slowly, trying your best to keep your eyes locked with Tommy’s despite how hard your morbid curiosity urged you to look down. Ripping his plaid jacket into strips he looked up at you. “We’re gonna get out of here. You’re gonna get out of here. No matter what I do, I’m gonna make sure I protect you, just like I always have.”
“I love you so much Tommy. I’ve never and never will love someone the way I do you.” You lean into him pressing your foreheads together. “I can’t lose you, okay?” He nods sympathetically, pressing a light kiss to the slope of your nose.
“Do you remember those dates we’d go on, out to the forest at night, and we’d just lay there, staring up through the cracks in the trees?” You nod. “I want you to think about that, okay? I want you to think about how many more we’ll go on once we get out of here.”
You hold a tight grip on his arm as he wipes away at the area. “I’m gonna have to put it back into place now.”
You pleaded with him, as the tears started again. “Please, no. Please just leave me here. Just go and find help okay? I can’t do it Tommy, I can’t do it”
“Hey, hey, hey. C’mon, look at me.” He places his hand on your cheek, tilting your head to look him in the eye. “You're gonna be fine, okay? You just gotta focus right now.” You nod timidly, the tears starting to slow.
He holds the bottom of your calf with one hand and your heel with the other. “Just count to three and I’m gonna do it, okay baby?” He looks up at you, his soft words lulling your anxiety. You bite your knuckle nervously, unsure as to how you should answer, but the look of trust in his eyes persuades you easily. “Okay.”
You breathe in. “One, two-” You let out a blood curdling scream as a large crack rung out, bouncing against the walls of the cave. Your fist gripped Tommy’s forearm tightly as you cried out a series of various curses. “You fucking asshole.” You whine out in pain, letting out an airy laugh trying to brighten your rather dull circumstances.
“You're okay baby.” You wince as he wraps the piece of fabric he had ripped from his jacket around your leg, tying it tight enough to hold you together for the moment. You grabbed Tommy’s shoulder as he wrapped his arm around your waist lifting you from the ground. You hiss as you feel your leg throb from the sudden movement. “Do you think you’re able to stand?” Tommy watches as you wobble trying to stay grounded. You nod. “Yeah.” You had no choice and you both knew it, if you wanted to live, you’d have to.
You both started your journey, finally entering a new environment as you trudged deeper into the earth of Shadyside. Why did these tunnels even exist? The intricate details of the maze made it easy to come to the conclusion that they were man made, but by who? Not once had you ever heard of these tunnels, and by the looks of it, nobody else had either, despite nurse Lane of course.
“Be careful.” Tommy tightened his grip around you. “You might slip.”
“Okay.” You mumble, too exhausted to form a real answer. You looked around at the walls, floor and ceiling. The further the two of you walked, the denser this moss became. You felt a wave of familiarity but you couldn’t quite place it. Red moss…red moss! It hit you, Cindy! Her red stained shirt, she said it was from the moss in the outhouses. “Tommy! It’s the fucking outhouses! We fucking made it!” You would probably be jumping up and down with joy right now if it wasn’t for your broken leg.
You look up, spotting the out house toilet openings. Wow, real nice, you’re both sitting in Sunnyvale shit and piss right now. “Yeah, but how are we supposed to get out?” Tommy sighs looking up at the roughly 15 foot climb. “You can’t climb that.”
You look at him. “Yeah, but you might.”
“No. I’m sorry but no, I’m not leaving you down here, especially when there’s Cindy running around up there trying to kill us. C’mon let’s go, if we’re at the outhouses, we must be near to camp.” He directs you along but before you can both carry on your interrupted. “Did you hear that?!”
“No I-“
“Shush.” You both stayed quiet listening as to what caught your attention. It’s screaming. Someone is screaming from the outhouses. “Hey! Help! Please, we’re stuck down here!” You yell trying to get the attention of the voices.
The space grows quiet as the screaming halts, the both of you waiting nervously for any indication of life when a head pops out from one of the seat holes. “What the fuck are you guys doing in the toilets?!”
It was ziggy, Cindy's sister. “Ziggy..” you wonder if it’s right to tell her what’s happened to her sister but you decide against it, not wanting to put the girl in such an emotionally vulnerable state whilst she’s already physically. “Gary’s up here too!” She yells down as Gary’s head pops out another toilet hole. “Hey!” He yells, surprisingly light heartedly considering there’s a murderer running around camp butchering little kids with a fucking machete. “Can you get us out of this fucking toilet or not?!”
Gary had managed to make some sort of bucket contraption with some rope. “It’s just like You’re Gothel climbing up Rapunzel's hair, okay?!” He yelled down, lowering it down to you.
You're about to slip onto the contraption when you hear Ziggy's unfortunately very familiar screams, and before you know it Gary’s decapitated body lies beside you on the floor. You and Tommy let out an in sync gasp, him pulling you away into his chest, as to protect you from the image. “We’re gonna have to find another way out.”
You think to yourself. Alice…she had shown you something whilst you were robbing nurse lanes office with Arnie. “I know how.” You pull out the book that started this whole thing.
“Baby, I don’t get how that book is gonna help us, let’s be honest it’s some random witches and wizards bullshit written how many hundreds of years ago?”
“No, tommy.” You turn the book to him parting the pages. “It’s a map.” You rest the book on the floor, the two of you leaning over it. “It's a map of camp, you see over here, these x’s are the graves we found. And over here, that’s where we entered.” You point your finger on the page. “Here, there’s another exit. Mess hall.”
His eyes lighten. “Jesus, fuck! You’re so smart!” He pulls you in for a kiss.
—-
You sat, your back arched over as you watched Tommy laid on his back kicking open the vent that led to the mess hall when another scream rang out. You instantly knew that it was ziggy, far too acquainted with the tone of her screams.
“Tommy!” With one final kick the vent flew open, Tommy hauling himself through in a split second. “Don’t move, stay here! I’m gonna go help Ziggy.”
Tommy always cared so much for the kids at camp, you honestly weren’t surprised that he was willing to risk his life for one of them.
—povc—
Tommy barged through the doors of the mess hall, an all too familiar song ringing through the speakers, the noise made his head thump as it blared.
Tommy followed the screams, grabbing a mallet that lied on a nearby counter. Cindy stood beating at a supply closet door as ziggy screamed from within. Tommy pulled cindy's shoulder for her to face him as he swung the mallet into her jaw. Cindy tumbled to the ground as she spat a mouthful of blood and teeth onto the floor. Tommy hesitated holding the mallet in his hand, ready to strike Cindy. But before he could come to any decision Cindy grabbed her machete from the ground slicing at Tommy’s thigh.
Tommy dropped to the floor, his mallet sliding across the freshly mopped floor tiles, Cindy rising to her feet, towering over Tommy. Overpowered, he crawled backwards digging the heels of his hands into the cold tile floor. He was braced for impact when Cindy stopped turning around.
—povc—
You lunged at her digging the knife you found into her back, pulling it out as she turned to face you, plunging it into her chest over and over until she hit the floor unresponsive. You fell. You had finally reached your limit. Your leg was broken for fucks sake and you just murdered Cindy. Pure-hearted, hard working Cindy Berman. You plunged your knife deep into her chest until you split it down the middle. You dragged your body over to Tommy’s wrapping your arms around him, wetting his shirt as you became inconsolable. He held his hand at the back of your neck placing soft kisses onto the top of your head. “It’s okay baby, it’s okay. She’s dead now, we’re gonna be okay.”
You heard as ziggy opened the closet door, dropping to her knees at the sight of her sister dead on the floor. The red headed girl pulled her sister's body over to face her, wrapping her arms around Cindy crying into her cold lifeless body. You crawled over to the girl pulling her away from her sister's touch into yours. “I’m sorry.” You whispered.
The three of you struggled as you heard the last bell ring signalling that the bus would be leaving. Ziggy yelled out as the bus doors began to close. The wheels began to roll forwards but before it could depart a boy budged the doors open, calling out to her. “Ziggy!” You released your grip from the girl's side as she ran to him, embracing him. You rested your head on Tommy’s shoulder at the sight of the two. “I hope she’ll be okay.”
The two of you had found a place on the bus as Ziggy sat with you fellow councillor Nick goode. Finally being able to breathe, you rest your head on Tommy’s shoulder. “I’m so glad you're okay.” You look up at him smiling at his words. “Maybe you're the one who really needs protecting, without me you’d be dead meat.” You press your lips together, smiling softly into the kiss. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if I had lost you.”
Your eyes wandered to the window watching as the camp nightwing sign slowly floated away out of sight. Finally it was over.
———
After the accident medics treated and hospitalised many of the camp nightwing campers and counselors such as you and Tommy. Your leg was thankfully saved. They said if not for Tommy it probably would have had to be amputated due to infection.
It was two months since that night, you still had to use crutches but besides that, you made a speedy recovery alongside tommy. Although he was in a much less critical condition than you and was discharged within a few days, he still spent every night in the hospital with you.
You laid beside Tommy his leg slotted between yours as the velvet underground played softly in the background. You run your fingers through his hair slowly as he whines quietly into your chest. It finally felt like the first time since that day that you both could finally relax.
You pulled away from his touch leaning over him, kissing his lips softly. “You look so pretty.” You hum. He smiles into the kiss. “Not as much as you, baby.”
You lifted yourself straddling Tommy’s hips, deepening the kiss as your hands ran down playing with the hem of his shirt, travelling underneath. He pulls away, his hand rubbing your thigh. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
“I’m okay.” You reassure him, pressing soft kisses along his collarbone. You removed your shirt as Tommy’s hands floated up to your waist.
“God, you're so beautiful.” He mumbles, kissing up your chest slowly as you take off your pyjama shorts, throwing them to the floor.
You lean down unbuttoning Tommy’s jeans, taking him in your hand. Tommy twitches at the contact as you align himself to you. You lower yourself onto him slowly as his hands hold a firm grip on your lower back. Tommy lays his head back, his hips thrusting up into you.
You shiver as you lift yourself up and down, your thighs shaking from the stimulation. His thrusts hardened, your soft whimpers of his name encouraging him. “You look so fucking good right now.” He gripped your waist helping you keep a steady pace.
You steadied yourself, leaning your arms out pressing your hands against his chest as you felt yourself near your climax. “Shit, Tommy I’m gonna come.” You whined under your breath.
“Don’t worry baby, me too.” He runs his hands down your back lovingly.
You threw your head back as you felt Tommy’s hand wander down edging you on further, your breath quivering at the touch. You felt his hips buckle beneath you as he reached his peak, yours following soon after.
You sighed your body collapsing onto his chest. “I love yours so much.” You mumble into his skin as he presses a soft kiss against your forehead.
—-
It was the 16th anniversary since that day at nightwing, the two of you still happily together. Despite the permanent scar that night had left on the both of you mentally and physically, you both managed to stay strong, the event probably making the two of you even closer than you already were before.
Every year instead of hiding from the memories of that night, you both embrace it. Tommy’s favourite way to do this was to ‘reenact your youths’ in his words by driving the two of you out to the forest, where you would’ve spent so many nights together when you were younger.
You would open the sunroof and lay out the seats creating a little bed for the two of you. Probably not the safest thing the two of you could do, but most definitely the sweetest.
The two of you laid there staring up at the trees, resting your head on Tommy’s chest, your arm draped across his abdomen. Looking up at him you pressed a small kiss to the slope of his nose, pressing your heads together. The moonlight glazed over his cheeks, giving him a paler look. “You look so beautiful.”
—-
The car ride home was quiet but the atmosphere felt soft and comforting as Tommy rested his hand on your inner thigh. The velvet underground played softly on the radio as your eyes gazed out at the passing scenery.
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demibillyloomis · 3 years ago
Text
Poly Ghostface with reader having sensory overload
(I have bad sensory issues and had a bit of trouble earlier today so now I’m thinking about it... maybe someone else will like it, also I’m sorry if this isn’t reflective of how it is for anyone else, I just based it off of my own experience and it’s like 90% just Billy and Stu being slightly out of character A+ boyfriends ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)
Warnings: overstimulated, mentions of stimming though not at all specified, mostly fluff idk what to say, mentions of alcohol and a small allusion or two to drugs use (weed and the possibility of something else)...
It was Stu’s idea to host a party at the shared apartment. While you and Billy had both initially agreed, it didn’t take too long for you to change your mind.
The music was too loud, lights flashing in all corners of the room, people yelling and laughing and every single ounce of it coming at you full force all at once. At first it was fun, a little overwhelming but you where still calm, sitting with Stu as he charmed everyone around, focusing on the calming fabric of his sweater where his lanky arms wrapped around you, but within 30 minutes Stu was gone laughing and talking with people you weren’t sure he had ever met before. For a bit you just watched him, dancing like an idiot with strangers, and admiring the way the world seemed to come to life as he laughed, a small smile dancing on your lips, because even though you couldn’t hear the joke over the blaring music just seeing the way he laughed was contagious.
Once you lost sight of him though, you where left uncomfortably aware of your surroundings. It didn’t take long at all after that for it to send you spiralling. Of course the ever alert Billy noticed it first, the way your hands were shaking, picking up on how you were quietly stimming in the background of the party. You’re rocking in the corner trying to ground yourself and nearly jump out of your skin when he slips in, probably not actually being stealthy but with everything else coming full force at you, it was impossible to notice the less obviously eccentric of your boyfriends as he came up.
“Hey babylove, are you okay?” He ask but you can barely hear him over the music just shaking lightly as you try to focus on him. You take a deep breath as you count the things you can see, Billy’s big eyes staring at you with worry, they way his lips are parted slightly in confusion and his eyebrows pulled closer together, you see his lips move again but you can’t hear what he says, it’s just blending in with everything else, all coming at you too fast. You barley notice when he grabs your arm, jumping slightly, and not noticing as the worry somehow takes over more of his face.
He slowly walks you out of the party area going into the bedroom you all share, unlocking the door and closing it gently behind him again, the music is gone once you're in the safety of the room, and an almost deafening silence falls. The only sound now is your heavy breathing and the way your heart is pounding against your ribs. Billy, still almost uncharacteristically gentle, walks you to the bed, helping you sit down and you focus on the way his hand is warm and familiar as it cups the side of your face.
“Did you take anything babylove?” The nickname barley catching you attention over how your own laboured breath, but you catch it after a moment and slowly shake your head to deny, you remember absently that you had taken maybe a sip of Stu’s beer earlier but nothing else. You see Billy nod slowly, “Okay, was it just too much out there for you?” He ask again, his voice meant to sound soft and soothing, still feels loud and over powering as the world still closes in around you. He gently rubs his thumb across your cheek, making you take a note of the tears you were previously unaware of. “Babylove can you answer me?” He ask again, his voice slightly louder, and you shake your head again.
“Too much” you barley choke out as your rocking becomes slightly faster, and the tears in your eyes heavier. He whips them away once more, letting out a low hum.
“Do you want one of Stu’s sweaters?” He ask, remembering how the last time this happened, you had clung and fiddled with the material for comfort. You nod your head slowly still trying to calm yourself as he gets up to grab one from a basket of folded clothes you three had not bothered putting up before the party.
Once he hands you the familiar cloth, you cling to it tightly, feeling his arms wrap around you, he pulls you gently against him as you sob quietly burying your face in the soft material.
Once your breathing is mostly back to normal, Billy moves you so he’s spooning you from behind, pressing gentle kisses to the side of your face, “How are you feeling now babylove?” He whispers against your neck.
“A little better,” you answer even though your voice is still just a whimper and your throat is a bit raw from crying.
He kisses you again, still as gentle as can be, and you let out a sigh before the door swings open and Stu stumbles in oblivious and a tipsy, the door wide and letting the still blasting techno music fill the room, “Finally there you two are I’ve been looking for you for like twenty minutes,” his voice is loud and grating against your ears and you wince curling up farther into yourself as it all hits you again, “Fuck Y/N what happened,” he says in a softer and worried tone, shutting the door being him and rushing into the room, he crouches next to the bed, reaching over to trace your face, “Y/N are you okay love?” He questions, his eyes are red as you take him in and shake your head slowly.
“The party got too much for them, I brought them in here to help, they were feeling better a bit ago,” Billy answers for you, his voice somehow even softer before, but you’re positive he’s glaring daggers at your other partner.
Stu hangs his head in shame, “I’m so sorry Y/N, I never would have suggested we do this if I thought it would be too much for you, hey I’m going to get them out of the apartment and close everything down okay, do you want me to bring you something to drink? I think we’ve still got some of your favourite in the fridge?” His voice is low but rushed and panicked, and before you can respond you feel Billy nod behind you, and Stu is once again out of the room.
Billy’s grip on you tightens for a moment after he leaves, “I’m sorry babylove you know how Stu gets,he whispers against your neck.
“S’okay, still love him,” you whimper out again, and Billy kisses you once more laughing slightly.
“Yeah me too, just wish he’d use his brain a bit more often,” he jokes lightly, earning a small cut off laugh from you.
The two of you fall into a soft silence, your body and mind finally calming down completely, after what you assume must be at least a few hours locked away inside the bedroom.
The exhaustion it slowly taking over your body when Stu comes back in, holding a cup and smiling softly at you, the hall is now silent as he walk into the room, leaving the door wide open. He sits in front of you on the bed, using his free hand to caress your face, “Can you sit up for me Y/N?” He ask you and you nod rubbing you eyes slowly as Billy helps you sit up, and Stu gently hands you the cup, placing a soft kiss on your cheek.
“I’m so sorry Y/N, you know I would have kicked those randos out if you had come to me earlier right?” He ask, and you notice the look of guilt on his. You take a sip of the drink, smiling a little as you nod, before leaning against him, and feeling his long arms wrap around you, as he presses another kiss to your forehead. “Is there anything I can do to make this up to you darling?” He ask and you look up at him a tired smile gracing your face.
You smile wider before you tap your lips twice, earning a bright smile and one of his ever famous laughs from the taller of your lovers before he leans down and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, and you both laugh together as Billy makes an offended sound from behind you, so you turn to give him a kiss as well, and watch as Stu kisses him too.
Billy presses another kiss onto your shoulders before he speaks again, “Hurry and drink that babylove so you can get ready for bed, okay, imma get you something to change into,” he gives one more kiss to each of you before leaving the bed to do as he said. You look back at Stu who gives you another kiss.
“I love you,” he tells you, and you nod with a smile.
“Love you too,” you tell him before cuddling back into his chest while you finish your drink. Even if your boys aren’t always the best, there’s times when they make sure you know you’re loved, and even if it hurts sometimes to get those reminders, you couldn’t imagine it any other way.
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madamevirgo · 3 years ago
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Holding On Too Tight
Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x reader 
Summary: Nothing stops you from celebrating a milestone.
Warnings: fluff, angst, (s)pain, pain (au Chocolat), d3ath, idk best grab tissues
Words: 702
A/N: Song-fic alert! A few weeks ago I came across this song called ‘Dancing With Your Ghost’ by Sasha Alex Sloan, which literally screamed Billie Dean to me. I’ve wanted to write something about it for some time now, but it’s only today that the plot finally clicked. This is the first of many song-fics, but I hope you like this one. It hurt to write it, but it kind of warmed my heart at the same time? Idk. I honestly thought my first Billie Dean Howard fic would be spicier, that’s just how life works, I guess. Anyways, happy reading!
Ps: For a better experience, I highly recommend listening to the song while reading this. 
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You woke up at the crack of dawn and got to work, making all of Billie Dean’s favourites, before setting everything on the table. It was a tradition. For the 5 years you’ve been together, you would wake up on your anniversary and cook her a feast, leaving the house before she woke up and could convince you not to run around town, to collect everything you needed to spoil her. A rare occurrence, since Billie Dean usually did the spoiling - not because you didn't put in the effort, but because she didn’t like gifts. 
She said receiving them reminded her of her upbringing when her parents would shower her with material things to make up for their bad parenting. Later, people used them to buy her. No, Billie Dean hated gifts, she’d much rather hear you tell her how much you love her, and her heart would melt at the little things that you did - such as bringing her coffee when she was staying late on set, or when you’d remember something she’d tell you in passing. But on this day, every year, nothing could stop you from giving your darling wife the entire world. 
You went to her favourite stores, making a point of purchasing all the things she had eyed or mentioned at one point or another. Your phone was starting to overheat due to all the long phone calls you’d made to confirm that things would be delivered at their assigned time and places. Although you never saw her before at least the afternoon, finding that the anticipation that would build up during the day made the reunion and celebration all the sweeter - that didn’t mean you didn’t talk to her often during the day. Sharing everything and anything with her. Billie Dean loved that you confided in her, some would find it annoying how many times in a day you and she talked, but it warmed her heart. And even when you spoke often during the day, you never ran out of things to say when you lay in bed at night. The conversation always flew easily between you two. Everything did. 
By the time you were done with your errands, the sun had already set. You were exhausted and sweaty, but the excitement of what was to come always gave you a rush of adrenaline. You quickly entered the house and prepared everything before starting to get ready. Somewhere in town, Billie Dean was doing the same. In exactly one hour, she would walk through the front door and sit in her office until you came to collect her, exactly thirty minutes after her arrival. You always took longer than her to get ready, which always resulted in Billie Dean teasing you relentlessly. 
You put the finishing touches to your look, and after giving yourself a once-over, you made your way down to the first floor to double-check that everything was in place. Satisfied, you put on the record player and the familiar lyrics flowed through the house making you smile. Now comes your favourite part. Time to get your girl. 
Your face lit up when you saw her, it always did. Your hands reached for her, looking at her with nothing but love and adoration in your eyes and returned her smile. She was so beautiful. Painfully so. 
“Time for our dance, my love” you whispered lovingly, putting your arms around her, swaying to the lyrics of the song. 
I stay up all night
Tell myself I'm alright
Baby, you're just harder to see than most
I put the record on
Wait 'til I hear our song
Every night I'm dancing with your ghost
A single tear escaped from your eye and made its way down your cheek as you pulled the picture frame closer to your heart, still swaying with your eyes closed. You didn’t have Billie Dean’s powers, but if you did, you would see her with her arms wrapped around you, her head on your shoulder, dancing in sync - before she pulled away slightly to wipe that tear off your cheek. 
You didn’t have Billie Dean’s powers, because if you did, you would have heard her whisper:
“You’re holding on too tight.”
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A/N: Y’all good besties? :(
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chibi-tsukiko · 4 years ago
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Five More Minutes
A Malec fic inspired by the song "The End of the World" by Billie Eilish because it’s all over TikTok and I can't get it out of my head.
I hope you like it 🙈
click on title to read on AO3 or scroll below
Tag list : @legendofconsullightwood @themostawesomehuman @littleturtle95 @tobeornottobetequila @morgnstern @zfoxdraws @bookworm-jedi @magnus-the-maqnificent @banesbitch @fair-but-wilde-child @beclynn-herondale @khaleesiofalicante @my-archerboy @youngreckless @thomaslightwood @runecarstairs @high-warlock-of-brooklyn @itsdaughterofthemoon
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Magnus wakes to a high-pitched beeping. He flicks his wrist to silence the sound, keeping his eyes closed. The room is dark, but he can feel the warmth of the sun on his back as the first rays peek through the curtains. For a second he thinks the sound was an accident, a hallucination even, but then he feels the bed shift beside him. Guilt pinches him as he realizes he unconsciously shut off Alec’s alarm, but he shakes it off. He’s exhausted. They both are. Life has never been easy for them, but this past month has felt like every obstacle got together and hit at once. It’s been nonstop. Quality time has become getting dressed together, a quick kiss goodbye at the door, dinner, when they can both manage it, and the few brief moments before sleep takes hold. Neither of them are ungrateful for the roles they’ve earned, Magnus couldn’t be prouder, but they have needs too. Alec isn’t the only one who gets grumpy without his morning cuddles. They’re in desperate need of a vacation, and the second Magnus finds a window amongst the chaos, he’s whisking them away. Far away. Someplace tropical, with no cell service.
He feels a gentle press of lips on his temple, he hums, and presses his face into the pillow, hoping the bed will swallow him. And then more beeping starts. This time, from his own cellphone.
Magnus groans as he reaches to shut the accursed noise off right as the water from the shower starts. He flops back down onto his stomach, muffling a whine. He’s not ready yet.
Five more minutes.
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He should really take a break, Magnus thinks as he summons two more books from his library. He’s been at this for days. When was the last time he slept? Tuesday? What day is it now? It doesn’t matter. He slides the plate of food Alec had left him this morning aside so he can set the books down; it clinks against the other plates. He should really just move them to the kitchen. Stepping around his desk towards the cabinet on the other side of the room, he nearly trips over himself. You need sleep. But he can’t stop. It’s been almost a week now since Catarina had come to him about a strange sickness she’d been encountering at the hospital. A week since Alec had been tracking a series of magical explosions that had been occurring throughout the city. A week since they’d started discovering the bodies of children in the streets. Almost a week since Magnus finallyconnected the events. Too long. Now he was in a race against time. He adds more ingredients to the potion and gives it a quick stir.
They haven’t found the coward whose chosen to experiment on these children. When they do, Magnus hopes to have a moment alone before Alec hands them over to the Clave. For now, Magnus can at least put his skills to use and create a cure for the illness before it claims more lives while his anger festers.
He flips through another book, while simultaneously sending one back to the library, and summoning three more. He barely registers the press in his wards, the shuffling of feet, or the hand on his shoulder. Alec says something to him, but he doesn’t really hear. He nods, answering to what, he’s not sure. He leans back over the cauldron, giving it another stir. He’s so close.
Five more minutes.
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They’ve been here for hours. Magnus is nursing his third drink of the night, his eyes never losing sight of the server as he weaves around the other guests. Despite how often he complains about attending High Warlock meetings, he’d rather listen to those old fools reminisce than another false retelling of the Claves’ accomplishments. Magnus does his best not to correct them, he even bites his tongue when they slip in a snide comment or two. It’s not worth it, he tells himself. Alec stays by his side the whole time, unwavering, but Magnus doesn’t miss the way his shoulders sag in relief each time their conversation with officials gets interrupted. Or how he squeezes Magnus’ hand whenever someone remarks about the company he keeps.
It’s nothing Magnus hasn’t heard before, nothing he doesn’t prep for before these gatherings, but that doesn’t mean Alec deserves to hear it. He can’t do anything too outlandish, but he can cause a few drink spills. Alec catches him a few times and Magnus hides his smirk behind his glass while Alec nudges him with his shoulder.
By drink number four, Magnus is at his breaking point. He’s counted the tiles on the floor a dozen times and he’s got a tension headache forming at the back of his skull. Suddenly, Alec is tugging him away, mid-conversation, cutting through the crowd, unconcerned by the sideward glances. He finds a quiet corner at the end of the hallway and Magnus starts to ask what’s wrong, but Alec kisses the question from his lips, crowding him against the stone wall.
Magnus gasps when they part, his fingers curling into Alecs jacket as he presses their bodies together. Alec’s breath is hot against his throat and Magnus has to stifle a moan. Alec shifts to cup Magnus’ face with his hands, sliding their lips back together. It’s gentler this time, slower, and Magnus hums into it. Then all too soon Alec is pulling back, Magnus keeps his eyes closed, leaning forward to chase after the kiss. Alec mutters something about returning to the event, but Magnus isn’t ready yet.
So he wraps his arms around Alec’s neck and kisses him, soft and languid.
Five more minutes.
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Magnus’ ears are ringing. His once quiet loft, now echoes with a cacophony of shrieks and giggles. He leans against the door frame of his bedroom, a warm smirk spreading on his face. He watches his heart as it twists, turns, and jumps on the massive king sized bed. A tangled mess of ivory, chestnut, and cerulean. In his hundreds of years, he never imagined he would have this. He longed for it, hoped for it, but never expected it. Yet here it is, right in front of him. Who knew the world could fit on a single mattress. Who knew that centuries of life would pale compared to moments like this: Sunday afternoons watching his husband play with their sons.
Sons. He has sons. He’s married. The words send fireworks through his body, he never tires of saying them. He feels so full.
Alec flips both boys onto their back and moves their shirts subtly before blowing raspberries on their stomachs. The room explodes with laughter, and god Magnus wants to drown in the sound.
Alec catches his eye and sends Magnus a knowing smile. Their boys immediately tackle the distracted Shadowhunter, chanting for Magnus to join them. He knows that this time is fleeting. He’s heard from Catarina’s experience, seen it himself each time Jocelyn brought Clary to his door. Children grow fast. Soon they’ll be moving on and moving out, starting their own lives. If Magnus blinks, he might miss it. So he relishes in these moments where he can step back and soak it in. He leaps onto the bed, basking in the euphoria he’s found, gripping it like a vise.
Five more minutes.
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Magnus can’t breathe. He’s dizzy with nausea, and there’s a throbbing sensation at the back of his head. He’s vaguely aware of the surrounding commotion. His mind registers voices around him, but they’re muffled as if he’s being held underwater. He feels heavy, like someone has tied anchors to each of his limbs. Everything seems to move in slow motion, and Magnus can’t make heads or tails of it.
Amongst the haze, his focus finds his husband’s face. He’s beautiful, Magnus thinks. Not just in his features, the softness of his skin, the hue of his eyes, but in his soul, his stead-fast nature, and the way he loves. Magnus can’t believe how lucky he is. His vision tunnels, fading black from the corners, and he closes his eyes to gain composure, only to snap them back open in a panic. Afraid he’ll miss something.
How did they get here? It was supposed to be their day off. Magnus had planned a full day of lounging on the couch, but the universe had other plans, it seems. He should have silenced Alec’s phone.
The world tilts on its axes, and Magnus wills himself to stay in the moment. The hand in his is hot, he squeezes it, desperate to commit the feeling to memory. Alec’s face blurs and Magnus is quick to blink, tears smearing the kohl around his eyes. He looks disheveled, he’s sure, but he can’t care. He just needs to focus.
Please, he begs as another wave hits him.
Five more minutes.
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hawkinsindiana · 4 years ago
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i want to talk about it
ALMOST PARADISE: PART THREE - CHAPTER TWO OF ELEVEN (?)
pairing: steve harrington x henderson!reader
word count: 2.8k
a/n: you asked for it! guess what - the anGST IS BACK!!!! i have also decided not to include gifs until we get to s3 content okay? okay. enjoy!
masterlist
You think about that night often, even though there have been plenty of others like it since. It was the breath of fresh air you so desperately needed. And while your relationship with Steve has made certain aspects of your life better, not all of them are so positively affected. 
The lump that forms in your throat every time you lie to your baby brother is especially difficult to swallow. You wonder if it will get any easier. Hopefully you won’t have to keep up the charade in front of the kids for much longer.
Especially now that Mike knows, that little shit. 
It had only been four days since Steve had suggested the idea of keeping the status of your relationship a secret. Four days. You still can’t believe it. 
The group was in the middle of a rather rousing round of Monopoly; Will had just sworn never to speak with Lucas again after a painful double mortgage incident. Steve, bankrupt from Max’s hotels and exhausted by their shenanigans, decided to leave a bit early. In traditional fashion, you made sure to see him out. 
Moments after the pair of you disappeared from the room, Dustin sent the Wheeler boy to grab extra sodas from the fridge in the garage. You’re lucky Mike closed the door when he entered; no one else heard him shout in surprise when he witnessed Steve give you a quick kiss goodbye. 
Your face flushed beet red in record time. Steve could’ve sworn his heart sank to the pit of his stomach. Mike has a habit of catching him in the act.
Thankfully it didn’t take much to convince Mike not to tell the others. He could tell how much it would mean to you to keep this quiet - a part of him understands why. It also helps that the boy would never want to disappoint you. Like all of the kids, they would hate to be the cause of grief in you. 
But keeping this from your brother is the toughest part. Mike knows first hand just how much Dustin wishes you two were together. It’s unfortunate he hasn’t figured it out himself yet; Mike thinks he probably never will.
But of course, now that’s the least of your worries. 
Billy Hargrove gets bored easily; it explains much of his behavior. When something, or someone, becomes a bit too dull for his taste, he feels the need to stir the pot. You are no exception. 
You’ve learned to ignore his posse’s comments in your direction when they walk by; Tommy’s sting a bit more than the rest. Normally, you’d love to fight back and embarrass him - it’s one of Steve’s favorite things about you. But now, Billy’s involvement makes you think twice before saying anything. After what happened at the Byers’, you never know what it could be that sets him off. 
Considering what happened last week, you’re certain something similar could occur again. 
Billy cornered you at your locker, spewing his usual comments. You were unnerved by his presence but able to keep your emotions in check as he leaned in closer; it was impossible not to catch the stench of cigarette smoke off his breath as he spoke. The hand he had broken months prior twinged in pain. 
In a moment of rage fueled by your silence, Billy fisted the collar of your sweater in his fingers. The fabric tightened against your neck as he said the damning line, “I could do it again, you know.”
The delicate knit of the yarn was stretched when he finally let you go. You threw that top into the dumpster as soon as you got home. You couldn’t bear to look at it anymore.
Steve wishes that you’d let him do something about Billy; you’re too frightened about what could happen if Steve confronted him. You would never risk letting your dream become a reality.
All that kept Billy from killing Steve that night was Max, had she not intervened. You’d thank her everyday if you could. 
Even though the little moments you do get to spend with Steve help calm your mind, your experiences from November still hang over both of your consciences. Steve just tries his hardest to make sure your conversations are Upside-Down free. He wishes you both could be normal teenagers again without these traumatic experiences haunting your every move. He misses not having to worry about that.
Looking for a way to blow off some steam and relax, you suggested a horror movie marathon to the kids. Since the final semester of your senior year began, you haven’t been able to spend as much time with them as you would like.
Max’s face lit up when you mentioned the idea; Dustin scowled. He hates scary movies. It seems ironic to you considering everything the group has been through. 
After sitting through Alien, the red-headed girl’s favorite, everyone decides to take a quick break before continuing. You and Steve are goofing off with Lucas and Max in the kitchen as the microwave’s working on the popcorn. Max just smiles as she watches you two interact. 
The pair of you are approaching almost three months of your relationship. In that time, your comfort with each other has grown exponentially. While you don’t express your feelings for each other in front of the kids, it becomes very apparent to Max how drastically different your dynamic is compared to when she first met you both. 
“I’m really glad you guys were able to sort things out,” She says before grabbing another bowl from the cabinet. 
“What are you talking about?” You ask, the smile on your face drooping slightly at her words, exchanging a quick glance with Steve before speaking again, “Sort out what?” 
Lucas continues before she can, leaning back against the counter, “Just... back when you guys were fighting. It must have been for something dumb if you got over it quick.”
That has Steve’s mind spinning for the rest of the night.
In your giddy excitement with one another, you both had completely forgotten about what happened between you two that week. It all seems like background noise compared to what followed.
But whatever it was that had you angry with him, it must not have been something dumb, he thinks. Not with the way you reacted.
The kids decide to move the activities over to the Wheelers’ after finishing The Shining - and you’re thankful they do. You and Steve don’t know how much more of Dustin’s unnecessary screams you could take.
“It’s not even that scary!” Will says as he opens the front door, turning back to your brother as the rest of the kids file outside. You throw Max’s coat to her before she forgets it.
“Did we watch the same movie?” Dustin answers as he pulls his backpack over his shoulder, his face stunned as he looks between you and Steve, “And he’s the one who looks like Danny Torrance!”
“Alright, alright,” Steve grabs the door from Will and he ushers them out, “Go on, get out of here.”
Mike runs back before it’s shut, looking over his shoulder to the others to make sure he wasn’t followed. His eyes peer through the crack as he steps onto the porch, a smug grin over his features as he lowers his voice, “If you two do anything weird in there-”
“Oho, that’s enough out of you,” Steve slams the door before Mike can continue, making an effort to lock it immediately after.
Your muffled laughter reaches his ears, turning to see where you’ve disappeared behind the couch to grab a pillow you’d thrown to try and silence your brother.
“You think his antics are funny, huh?” Steve asks, placing his hands on his hips as you pop back up, your eyes sparkling, “Clearly I enjoy them much more than you do.”
“He’s lucky we haven’t killed him yet.”
“Steven!”
“What?” 
You scoff lightly at him, tossing the pillow onto the couch before plopping yourself down, “You’re ridiculous, you know that?” 
Steve’s expression flattens as you look away from him, gaze not focused on anything in particular. The thoughts he’s been having about the rough patch you two experienced begin to overwhelm him. The unanswered questions regarding your aggression towards him make him anxious - Steve can’t stand it when you’re unhappy with him. 
It comes out before he can stop himself.
“You know, uh, what Max and Lucas mentioned earlier? About us?” Steve’s words make your brow furrow, confused as to why he’d bring it up. That seems like something he’d want to keep in the past, “Yeah, why?”
“I mean-” Steve exhales before sitting down next to you, his knee grazing yours, “I was mad ‘cause I thought that you’d been the reason Nancy...”
He stops for a moment, shaking the memory from his mind. He has no desire to bring his previous relationship into this one, “I don’t know, I guess you never mentioned why you were angry.” 
He just shrugs after trailing off, eyes focused on the carpet; Steve’s not able to look directly at you while he admits it, “It just doesn’t make any sense to me, that’s all.”
Your jaw clenches as you remember the cause of your anger and how it transformed you. It seems so stupid now, that his behavior towards you meant that he’d rejected your feelings. Turns out, it couldn’t have been further from the truth.
You push those thoughts away; you’re not interested in furthering the conversation any more.
“It’s not important,” You state plainly, also not able to meet his gaze, “Lucas was right, it was dumb.”
Tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, you re-adjust on the cushion, “Let’s forget about it, yeah?”
Steve shakes his head - he’s quickly growing tired of you dodging his questions, “No, I want to talk about it. I want to know.”
“Why do you care so much? It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Because I was an asshole to you and you just…” He trails off as he leans away, arm draping over the couch, “You just took it! You accepted it like nothing had ever changed, like nothing ever happened between us.”
You huff, back pressed against the arm rest, voice quiet, “Damn right nothing ever happened.”
You freeze, surprised at your own comment. You didn’t know that you were still holding onto aggression directed at his obliviousness to your true feelings. But Steve doesn’t catch on, he only grows more concerned at your response, “What the hell are you talking about?”
You take a deep breath, thankful that he didn’t seem to understand, effectively saving your ass from whatever this revelation could’ve caused. The room is silent as you move to the edge of the seat, “Like I said. We should forget about it.”
Steve scoffs, his fingers pressed against the bridge of his nose as you stand up, “I can’t believe you’re not going to tell me.” 
You don’t turn to look at him as you take a few steps, instead opting to push both hands through your hair as you answer, “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”
“Maybe I do! What - is it so horrible that I want to know what made you mad at me?” He raises his voice and you turn towards him, desperately trying to calm your temper, “Steve-”
“So we’re keeping secrets now too, huh?” Steve says as he gets up too, arms crossed over his chest, “This whole thing’s under wraps anyways, why not bring that into the relationship? What a great idea. You’ve really outdone yourself this time, truly-”
“Oh my God, Steve-” You interrupt him, growing so impatient of him that you don’t even register what happens until it does, “Fine, you want to know?”
“Yes!”
“I thought that Nancy told you everything! Everything about how I felt.”
Your lip gets caught between your teeth as you cast your focus to the ceiling, hating how you can never seem to keep your emotions bottled up anymore - you used to be good at that.
“I must have been more obvious than I wanted because she had figured it out. That night at Tina’s party was when she finally felt confident enough to confront me about it. And I just…” You swallow the lump in your throat as you feel the tears start to burn behind your eyes. There was a reason you wanted to keep this away from him.
“I couldn’t take it anymore. I screamed at her, Steve. I just screamed at her,” Your tone softens as you remember the words that you spit at her, guilt flooding you all over again, “I was so sick and tired of watching her pull away from you when you deserved someone who actually cared about you and I was right there! The whole fucking time!” 
“I thought that she told you about how I felt,” You mutter, shoulders slumping with embarrassment and shame, “I thought she told you and you had decided to reject me.”
Steve used to think that seeing you bloodied and beaten by Billy was the saddest he’d ever seen you. But seeing the look on your face as you realize what you’ve said - he’s not sure which one is worse. And it’s all because of him. 
He should have listened to your protests; you were right.
Steve doesn’t know what to say. 
Even though it’s only been official for a short amount of time, getting to be with you has been an absolute joy. It’s been perfect knowing that the sparks are mutual. He doesn’t think he’d be able to handle it again if they weren’t. Steve can tell there’s something different about why being with you feels so amazing and terrifying at the same time.
But the idea that you’ve kept your feelings locked away and hidden from him longer than he thought? That brings about a pain in his chest that’s greater than he’s ever had before.
“How - um, how long had it been since…” He doesn’t know how to finish - he’s not entirely sure if he wants to. He’s not sure he wants to know.
One tear hits your cheek, then another, “A year.”
Even though it’s whispered, it’s enough to make him dizzy. He sinks back onto the couch, his head in his hands as the information overwhelms him. The entire time that Nancy was lying to him, you were right by his side. 
You heard everything. 
He can’t believe that you just swallowed it - all the times that he gushed about her to your patient soul, telling you the plans on how he was going to ask her to the junior prom, mentioning how he thought she was the one for him. He can’t take it.
You still can’t look at him, it would be too much. Instead, you opt to pick at the sleeves of your hoodie, waiting for Steve to finally address what you admitted.
You grow impatient yet again, emotion scratching your throat, “Please just… say something.” 
It seems like hours pass although it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. 
“I can’t do this,” The sound of Steve’s keys being pulled from his pocket catches your attention. Your eyes finally snap up and he’s already moving quickly to the exit, and you brush hair from your face before following him, “Where are you going?”
“I don’t-” He pauses as he pulls on the handle, briefly looking over his shoulder in your direction - still not able to directly catch sight of you, “I don’t know. I just need to think.”
The photos on the wall shake as he slams the door; you force your face into your palms. 
It’s ruined, you’re sure of it. He can’t even be in the same room as you anymore. Maybe you’re not as good at keeping secrets as you thought. 
Steve’s filled with regret as soon as his fingers leave the doorknob. What the hell is he thinking?
His mind quickly flashes back to the argument you two shared that night on the train tracks; he had forgotten all about it until now.
“You’re the one who caused this mess in the first place.”
His jaw clenches.
“This whole time, I knew you never liked her.”
His exhale stops short. 
“You feel so threatened by her that you had to do something about it!”
His stomach churns.
The thought of you interpreting those words as further evidence of his rejection completely fills him with regret.
And then Steve remembers how willing you were to separate from him - it hits him that you didn’t believe he’d ever see you as anything other than a friend. The very notion of him being aware of your feelings had you shutting yourself away from him completely.
He has to go back in. He can’t leave you to believe those things. And although he doesn’t think apologizing would be enough this time, he at least has to give it a shot. For your sake
Steve’s about to shove the door back open when it locks from the other side. You’ve accepted that he’s not coming back in. Why would he want to?
A shallow breath gets pushed through your lungs; it doesn’t help to calm you. At he sound of the engine of his car running, a whimper passes your lips. You’re certain you’ve lost him again.
taglist: @stevebabey / @mrsukai / @hannarudick / @crazycookiecrumbles / @hellisateenageheather / @alewifex / @l0ve-0f-my-life / @naomiiiiiiiiiii04 / @daddystevee / @thecaptainsgingersnap / @let-the-imaginationflow / @asianravenpuff / @im-a-stranger-thing​ / @mikariell95​ / @pilunb​ / @harringtherin​ / @royalestrellas​ / @ultrunning​ / @buggs177 / @poutfull​ / @yoheyyosup​ / @duchessdaisybat​ / @janieavalos / @sassisaluxury​ / @beththebubbly​ / @i-bitch-you-bitch​ / @captainstilinskis​ / @juliebean247​ / @im-nada / @whatabeautifulsurrender​ / @rexorangecouny​ / @pass-me-jeez-it / @ahoy-scoops-troop / @halefirewarrior​ / @jointhehunt67 / @peanutem / @ketchuplukehemmo​ / @m-a-r-i-n-t-p / @fangirl485 / @emmegirl827 / @lookalivesunshine-x​ / @elite4cekalyma​ / @marjoherbo​ / @just-my-fandom / @idumpyourgrass​ / @alafolieee​ / @mochminnie​ / @phantomalchemist​ / @dustyblueboo​ / @alonewolfsblog​ / @ggclarissa​ / @hufflepuffing-all-day-long​ / @bippityboppitybabe​ / @readinthegarden12​ / @bakugouishusbando / @stxtch72 / @random-girl-army / @wisdaemon
wow there are so many of you
if you wanna be added to the taglist (of if you’ve changed your url), just lemme know!
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hargrove-mayfields · 4 years ago
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Harringrove April Day 3- Spring Break!
Billy never really did spring break. He thought it was just a stupid way to flaunt that you were rich and had no responsibilities, neither of which were luxuries he got to experience, and quite frankly, for a lot of kids, it was.
But his senior year, the tops of the class plan a huge (and expensive) trip to Lake Tahoe for the week they have off school, as in the one in California, and he just cannot pass by that opportunity. A school sanctioned trip back to his home state, that’s like a dream come true.
Of course, he’s still got to scrape together the funds to get there, because his dad sure as eggs wouldn’t be paying for a spring vacation that cut into Easter Sunday, but that should be easy enough, considering his best friend is basically a walking bank account who had already been trying to convince Billy to come with him for weeks before they’d announced the trip.
He was pretty sure at this point that Steve would cave almost immediately, and he’s right, because he’s not even halfway through asking him how he was planning on getting to Lake Tahoe before he’s telling Billy that they should fly up together. To Steve, it’s a matter of a couple hundred dollars versus his entire social life being in the toilet.
Or at least that’s what Billy thinks, and that’s exactly what Steve wants him to think, because there’s a third, unconsidered option that he’s just helplessly in love with his best friend and would do just about anything if it meant he got to spend a little extra time with him.
Except when they get there, they don’t follow the crowd of their peers to the hotel they’d all booked, because this is California, the Golden state, the place where Billy Hargrove was born and raised. Their trip was not going to be wasted on skiing with a bunch of drunk kids they hardly even liked. Not when Santa Monica was so beautiful this time of year.
They rent a car, and Billy gives Steve the grand tour of the state for the seven hours they’re in the car. It’s exhausting, it’s cramped, but it’s worth every second to see Billy so proud of the place where he grew up. Steve genuinely thinks he couldn’t be any more in love with him by the time they’re stopping by the Santa Monica Pier in the late afternoon.
Even so late in the day it’s warm in California, nothing at all like a Hawkins spring, and Steve can tell why this is where Billy thrives.
They don’t have long on the beach before the sun starts to go down, but that’s not really why Billy brought him here anyways. He wanted to see Steve’s pretty face lit up by the amusement park lights after hours, wanted to see him smile when they played games in the arcade and revel in the flush on his cheeks from the alcohol he knew how to get without an ID.
They’re walking side by side down the Santa Monica Pier when Steve stops, leaning against the railing to look out over the water. “You know I’ve never even seen the ocean before?”
Billy sidles up beside him, leaning back on his elbows and lolling his head to the side to look at Steve. “Well maybe I can take you surfing tomorrow, pretty boy. We’ve got a whole week up here, bet you’d be a pro after just a few hours.”
Steve agrees, looking away from the water to lock eyes with Billy, a confident little smile on his lips. “I did used to be a swimmer.”
“That right?” Steve nods, and turns back to the view, the sun going down behind the shore line reflecting in his brown eyes. Billy smiles and hums in his throat, “I’d like to see you in the water.”
His smooth talk makes a flush creep up on Steve’s cheeks, and he chuckles, pushing off from the railing. “Come on, B, it’s getting dark. I wanna see this Ferris wheel you told me all about.”
Their tickets cost five dollars a piece, and they board after a short wait, the line much smaller than Billy remembered it being from trips taken up here in the summers of the 1970s.
Every last time the wheel would stop on the way up to let more people board, Steve would grab Billy’s hand, the ride much bigger than he’d anticipated, and Billy’s heart melted a little each time.
At the top, his breath hitches, and Billy asks him, “So? You like it, Stevie?”
“Yeah, it’s- beautiful.” The only Ferris wheel he’d ever even been on was the dinky, broken up one at the summer festival Hawkins held each year, and the view on that thing was just trees and more trees. It was a breathtaking sight.
“Mhm.” Billy rests his chin in his hand and leans his elbow against the bar that’s holding them in the seat, and watches Steve with hooded eyes.
Steve looks downright bashful when he notices, “What’re you looking at?”
“Just enjoyin’ the view.” Steve rolls his eyes, but he’s blushing, looking down to hide a smile, so Billy sits up straighter, putting a hand on Steve’s cheek and swiping his thumb over his bottom lip. “It’s the prettiest I’ve ever seen.”
Steve scoffs in a modest way, like Billy’s words are too much, and it’s cute. He leans over, so Billy meets him halfway, catching his lips in a chaste kiss. He tastes like cheap mixed drinks and California dreaming. One of Steve’s hands finds its place in his hair, tangling in soft blonde curls, and he brings himself even closer, until the ride moves again, and he startles, pulling away with a gasp.
Billy chuckles, and presses another quick kiss to his hairline. He couldn’t be more glad that he was so vulnerable to peer pressure, that the ride was so long and Steve such a romantic.
Especially knowing they had a whole six days left in California before they had to go back to Hawkins, because he still had lots he wanted to show him.
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honeysorwell · 4 years ago
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You rush into my life, stay a little while (I know that we can have it all)
Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x fem!Reader x Sally Mckenna
Word Count: 2,7k
Summary: A concert like any other was what joined the musician Sally Mckenna with Billie Dean and her girlfriend Y/N. Even when time passes and domesticity takes over the routine of the three women, Sally still feels that everything she is living with these two women is just another welcome adventure in her life, but her perspective changes, even if silently, after an unexpected gift and she ends up remembering of words said by a fortune teller decades ago. 
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[gif by @grilledcheeseandguavajelly]
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[gif by @julianemilian0]
A/N: Hey @tltl​ !! I'm your Secret Santa! And I wish you the best for this holiday! I have no idea how things are in Italy, so if the situation is okay, I hope you can spend this holiday with the family you love. I promise I did my best to fulfill your wishes, and I honestly hope you like it!! Stay safe, and if you ever need a friend and feel comfortable with me, I'm here!
Warnings: I honestly believe that there is nothing that will trigger someone, but I think it's cool to warn that this is like an AU since Sally can leave the Hotel (even because she doesn't live in one) and she is absolutely NOT dead... and their relationship starts before Billie gets her television show.
Enjoy it!
When Sally’s younger self accepted a fortune teller's invitation for an experience with her, she expected nothing. Even in her teenage years, everyone in the town where she lived knew that the thing Sally wanted the most was to be a singer in the future, and even looking at the thought-provoking and incredibly flashy sign shining in shades of purple and gold, the phrase “I can tell you the greatest truth about you deeper desire”, the blonde one had some suspicious guesses about what she would hear.  
Perhaps some absurd about an authorial song that would be heard on a world scale, or about a featuring with some world-renowned artists  — just raw ideas that would momentarily cheer up her small, young, and a little pessimistic heart  — but nothing was even close to what she received.  
You will only find the love you want and wait for  — intense, lifelong, and reciprocal  — when you stop believing in its existence.  
The blonde girl in the printed coat remembers cursing the lady before leaving the place without paying her, but the fortune teller did not seem to care and did not try to stop the teenager from escaping, and perhaps that made Sally's perception of the situation even vaguer.  
She remembers thinking while she was going home with some friends, that maybe the city was too small and that was why the enigmatic woman had discovered about her recent breakup. She loved the bastard but after discovering that the boy who lived in her heart without worries was cheating her with a girl from the local religious choir, even with tears in her eyes, it was over.  
The thought made sense at the time.  
A teenager looking for love.  
But time passed and she became an adult woman looking for love.  
Sally doesn't know why she was graced by such a specific memory now, with Y/N's arms around her waist and her head lying in Billie's collarbone, who even just about to fall asleep, was still pressing her against Sally’s naked one.  
It was a particularly pleasant and absolutely surprising arrangement.  
In a particularly exhausting show, in which she also expected nothing from, Sally saw the two women in the audience. They seemed in love, always exchanging honest touches and sweet smiles, but even in all that passionate aura, the two pairs of eyes were always fixed on Sally.  
The concert contracts offered to Sally was starting to grow significantly, as much as the price she received for each performance, as well as the size of the places that hired her, so she was rarely in the same stage two weeks in a row.  
And something in her heart was happy about it.  
Her social media were doing well with likes as followers growing each day, her covers had a nice number of views on digital platforms. And, more importantly, she finally stopped performing only in depressing bars  — in addition to getting an audience that really paid attention to what comes out of her lips or the harmonies of her guitar  — and this was very good, much more than she believed she could achieve in her early teenage days, but still, something inside Sally would like to see that couple again.  
But in the following week, regardless of which bar the musician was playing in, they were there. And in the next one too. And the next one.  
Only in the fifth week did one of them bought her a drink.  
Y/N.  
Her expression was sweet and bright, and every time she flicked her eyelashes, something inside Sally lit up. She looked a little uncertain, but still took a spare napkin and, taking a pen out of her bag, started writing on the paper.  
The musician took advantage of the moment, traveling her own gaze at the pleasant woman beside her and silently wishing to use her fingers to make sure her hair is as soft as it looked, and if she smelled as good up close as it looks from a distance.  
But something was wrong, especially because Y/N was alone. And even without planning to do so, Sally's focus was distracted with everything around her, looking for the owner of the blond hair who always accompanied the one beside her, and a forced breath escaped through her nose angrily and accidentally when she noticed that her search as unsuccessful since the blonde was not there. However, when a subtle introduction of herself jumped out of Y/N's tongue, and a sweet smile was directed at her... that was enough for Sally to smile back at her as she started a pleasant conversation.  
Within minutes, when their cocktail party was almost over, Y/N made it clear what she intended by sharing a bar counter with the blonde musician, and Sally felt intoxicated. She always knew it was impossible for anyone not to feel intoxicated by a beautiful woman, especially when the words that slipped from her lips were so inviting, but that sounded like it was coming from another planet.  
“You performed very well on stage. A true artist. No one in the audience could take their eyes off you.”, Y/N's voice was happy and loud because a new musician was performing on the stage. She was trying hard not to have her sentence drowned out by his voice, and Sally could only smile and get in her game.  
"Interesting. Especially for someone who has heard me sing so many times.”, even with the dark, bluish light painting the entire surface of the entire bar, Sally was pretty sure she saw Y/N's cheeks flush.  
“Oh... So... You saw us?”  
No verbal response was made by the musician, she just shook her head positively before taking another sip of her own drink, patiently waiting for what Y/N would say next.  
“I like to hear talented people.”, The phrase escapes her lips like nothing, and how genuine her voice sounds makes Sally's shoulders a little less tense, “And Billie believes that you have a beautiful face and talented hands. I told her that we only saw you play the guitar so we couldn't jump to conclusions.”  
“I don’t know her, but I think Billie is quite a perception person, and I already like her.”, at the moment the words slip through Sally's tongue, she knew that she said something good because Y/N was smiling at her like if she was some huge and shiny toy she just won in some tough game at an amusement park.  
"Billie and I would like to get to know you better... But if you are not interested in our arrangement, just know that we will continue to watch you because... you have so much talent, not because we are stalkers."  
"Thank you... So, if Billie is also so interested as you said, why she is not here drinking with us?", Sally's voice sounded like all of her flirtations ones, answering the compliment with a sweet voice and asking the question with a dripping malicious amid curiosity, as she looked at the napkin Y / N had given her.  
Two names and two phone numbers, but the blonde one just wanted to make sure it wasn't some kind of joke.  
Some lost bet.  
Some stolen kiss and a sinful night while the partner isn't looking.  
"She's smoking outside, but believe me... Billie will be here in just a moment."  
And, as if she knew she had been mentioned, the blonde one in question appears at the front door and walks towards the two women at the counter as if she owns the place. If the look wasn't enough to show Sally that Y/N wasn't kidding, the blonde woman's lack of subtlety in sliding her right hand over Sally's shoulder before sitting next to Y/N would show Sally that yes, she was interested too.  
Billie Dean.  
With her formal clothes and her sagacious desire for a television program. She was not like Y/N, stepping on eggs and sighing deeply before starting a conversation with a stranger she found attractive. Billie was quite the opposite. She knew exactly what she wanted and, when Sally accepted the invite to go on an actual date with the couple, the musician found that everything reflected in those brown eyes was pure malice, even if she was immersed in unexpected grace.  
Unexpected.  
And almost unexpectedly, Sally fell in love with the two women.  
Unexpected loves were what ruled the life of the woman in printed clothes, but all with an expiration date. Her last love disappointment - with a tall and clear-eyed man that she forced herself for months to forget her name - was enough for the musician to stop believing in something good and permanent showing up.
So she let it go and forced herself to learn how to just take advantage of the incredible people who were going through her life for the time they here in her life.  
But since Sally first laid eyes on that couple, while her fingers echoed the melody of her songs in a bar she had long since gone to, they have not stopped to surprise her.  
Y/N and her apartment in pastel colors, which was the first place belonging to the couple that Sally met, almost 6 months ago. The apartment that nowadays was always full of Sally's grocery shopping. It happened in the second month when the three women went to the musician's house in search of a bottled sauce that was missing at Y/N's house for dinner, and when they stopped in a red traffic light, the suggestion flew between Billie Dean's lips automatically.  
"You could just take things you like to eat at Y/N's apartment... So we would make sure that nothing you like is missing."  
When the silence became thick inside the car, the medium lost the focus of her cell phone, focusing her eyes on Sally and Y/N, who was driving the car, to explain her thoughts, and so she received two heads producing affirmative nods and smiling before returning to the usual silence. After all, it is more practical for everyone to leave their groceries at the home of the person who cooked the most in the arrangement.  
Two months later, Sally simply thought that bringing any groceries back to her home when she rarely spent any time there was senseless.  
And that was new.  
Different. Amazing. And new.  
Because of all the things Sally didn't expect, the one at the top of the list was being silently presented with a new place to call home. Or rather, two new places.  
Whenever Sally imagined a place that would be like her second home, her mind automatically painted the image of a studio. Large, with a few instruments, a matte wallpaper, and shiny pictures hanging on the walls. Everything in addition to a table full of paper with letters being finished.  
But the present proved to be more and more surprising every day, mainly because the musician knows that she probably has more clothes in Billie Dean's house than in her own wardrobe. She also knows that her guitar and unfinished rhymes rest in the western part of Billie's office, next to the window.  
It was good. New. Passionate.  
But it probably has an expiration date. And for the first time, Sally believes she's okay with that.  
She doesn't know why she thinks about it, and especially at that moment where the two women who live in her mind are lying and almost asleep in her arms, but still, she does.  
Because she loves the simple and unique moments when she receives more affection and adoration than she imagined in a lifetime. Like when Y/N caress her hair absently after work while when she is laying down in her lap, looking for words that rhyme with the verses Sally writes. Or when Billie arrives tired of the recording studio, feeling that her energies are almost consumed and still gives her the most beautiful of all smiles when she readily accepts the musician's arms in a hug.  
But her bubble of memories bursts when Billie starts to move, and then Sally needs to move away and consequently move away Y/N so that the older blonde can get up. And she does, but not before giving them an explanation.  
"I forgot something, I bought it for you."  
You.  
It's a dangerous word, especially in their arrangement, which is why Sally remains silent as she watches Billie stagger towards the bag she used today. She is naked, with the marks of the dark lipstick that Sally's kisses painted on her legs, but the medium doesn't mind and absently rummages in her purse before, after just a few seconds, grabs a relatively large and thin velvet box in her hand, and goes back to the mattress.  
Y/N is still rubbing her face, trying to dissipate the sleep that had almost taken the best of her, just to try to give Billie all of her attention, and the image is lovely even amid the marks of Sally's lipstick staining her neck. But the musician continues lying down, enjoying the view of Billie's body in front of her without even moving a muscle, until the medium opens the box and the contents of it are seen.  
It is a set of jewels.  
A pair of earrings and two more pieces that Sally can't quite see what they are because she doesn't catch her eye on the box. And the musician only knows that the first ones are earrings because Billie gently moves Y/N's hair out of the way before placing the jewelry gently on her ears.  
It is beautiful, in gold and with only a small and delicate emerald.  
A part of Sally is enchanted by Y/N's sweet smile while she thanks for the gift - which she now wears proudly - with a subtle kiss, but another part of her being almost forgotten would like the two to do it privately.  
Because Sally knows that this happens - those sweet, domestic moments full of gentle kisses and loving touches that are shared only between the two woman - but since the arrangement between the three started seven months ago, the musician has never seen one of these moments and, a part of her just look away.  
But fast enough, Billie has two fingers on Sally's chin, gently lifting her face until her brown eyes focus. But this intense exchange of looks quickly comes to an end, because the medium smiles and moves away, bringing the musician's line of sight into a necklace.  
"I know you like your dark chokers, especially the one with the silver pendant that Y/N bought you." Billie's voice is sweet and smiling as she opens the necklace clasp.  
Sally remains silent almost without blinking, like a deer caught by a car's headlights while trying to cross a highway, but everything becomes softer and easier to understand when S/N takes her hand and squeezes it while Billie continues to talk.  
"So I looked for a set that had a necklace with a long, loose chain, even with a small stone because honestly, the rings with larger emerald stones were just dreadful...", at that moment the medium closed her eyes and for just one second she has a disgusted expression on her face as if the small mention of the jewels she didn’t like was something powerful enough to make her sick, but then her eyes open and her cheeks are painted a light pink before she continues, in a more whispery voice, "So you can use the necklace and your choker together."  
Sally feels her body move in automatic as she sits on the bed and lets the medium put the necklace around her neck, and then Billie's lips are on hers in the sweetest way the musician has ever felt and for a second she feels tears starting to form in her eyes. But Sally doesn't spill them, she just smiles. And then she feels Billie smiling against her lips too before the medium moves away and finally puts a delicate ring with a small emerald on her own ring finger.  
They don't say anything. There are no thank you, or questions about any motivation. Just incessant smiles as the three of them lie back between the covers in silence.  
Sally believes that in a few hours her face will be in pain from smiling too much, but the musician hardly cares, because for the first time in almost twenty years she wants to go back in time and pay that fortune teller.
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word-addict-lisette · 3 years ago
Note
Dear Lisette,
I am back in you inbox, yay! How was your day? How's life? How's school?
I am really mad because we had this piece of work and it was like "pen down your idea on this statement, 'i can do whatever i want on the internet as long as i don't get caught' and i put down my thoughts which were 'this statement is true, i stand by it and you can do whatever you like as long as you don't get caught and don't own up' and then people were like throwing shade at me and i looked at it. I have 5 comments.
My teachers tried to delete it, my classmates literally lectured me and then she read it out loud and the whole class went looking for that one note i made. In the comments, people are spelling my name in caps. It was my opinion, and oh, look all of them are basically hypocrites. Let me just say, these people make me uncomfortable, they don't talk about exactly nice things or approriate things and they are all commenting ( without names too may i add) like "KAT, THAT'S NOT HOW THINGS WORK!" but with my real name and just arghhh.
Also if my teachers wanted me to say, "no, that isn't the right thing to do," or any other answer that the others provided them with, they shouldn't have asked for my opinion. They should have just forced us all to just type the same thing. The other people all wrote like, "no, its unethical and bad" or "False, no, its bad" and stuff like that, filmsy evidence and elaboration. I HAVE MORALS, i am just saying the truth. I feel like the victim of a hate crime. People don't like me enough already, i am a very intresting person, uh, yeah, we are gonna stop there.
Enjoy the rant i guess? I don't know? I am sorry for loading on you but there's a little extra rant so uh, yeah. im just gonna take this out, one sec.
Ok, so uh my teacher was like, next week, we are making pancakes. Fluffy pancakes. It was changed to pancakes without eggs? and now we have to make it ourselves, at home. Where do i get flour? What do i do with the extra flour? I don't know how to cook at all, my partner who has been extremely controlling and like kinda driving me insane, ( ahem i did the whole coursework) also she uses my friend's name for everything? Like, bestie i was literally helping out and you went all, "Oh you don't want (friend's name) to see you burnt right?". Obviously i don't but if i burnt down my house, she wouldn't be surprised. I BURNT MYSELF LAST YEAR, SHE SAW ME BURN MYSELF. Well, my friend burnt me and then the week after that, she burnt herself.
This happens a lot. Also, the very common questions and statements of, "Are you straight?" , "aren't you and (friend's name) dating?", "you guys would make such a cute couple" , " aren't you bi?" and "i thought the two of you were dating," there is nothing wrong with being bi but i am not attracted to her like that. So, they use her for leverage over me to get me to do what they want and also think im dating her? If we were dating, we would both be homeless. I like my house. This doesn't only happen with her. I once got shipped with my brother. I hugged him and some guy was like, "oh you guys like each other," that was awkward. Can i just add, a lot of people like majority of that community know we are siblings.
I also get shipped with his best friend, thanks to a rumor my brother made up. So, sometimes, i would get like comments like, "oh, you like him" or "(brother's name) told me that you and (brother's best friend) are dating," we are not dating. WE ARE JUST REALLY GOOD FRIENDS. I LIKE A FICTIONAL CHARACTER. LEAVE ME ALONE. Also, everytime i have a picture of a guy on my phone or something my cousin just has to tell my brother. THEY ARE STREAMERS. ONE IS OF V FROM BTS SO I CAN TRAMATISE MY FRIEND.
Everytime i cry, someone comes in my room. It is so annoying. LEAVE ME ALONE, I WANT TO CRY. This is why i started reading sad books, listening to sad songs, watching sad movies so i have a reason to cry. There was this once, i wasnt selected to be part of my choir's competition and i was sad about it because i didn't feel good enough. THEY SAID I WASN'T GOOD ENOUGH. So, i cried but it wasn't enough so i read the saddest book i could find so i had a reason to cry but by that time, my feelings were gone. This is why i get breakdowns when im overwhelmed because of all this. You know how old i am. I have to deal with this and the pressure of always wanting to be perfect. What else can i do? I am not pretty or smart or talented or have friends, i have like 6 friends and nobody ever keeps me company. So, i focus on being perfect. 100%, i deal with not having any attention because my parents didn't pay me any attention just because i was "independent" or something?
Did i mention, i babysit all my siblings? I am the second child. I baby-sit my older brother. I am sleep-deprived because i can't sleep well at night and i constantly worry about everything and i have to take care of all my friends and it is so exhausting. Yet, i can not cry.
Thanks for staying with me through whatever that was. Uh, yeah, i took the quiz and got chaotic academia. That is my aesthetic. I really want one of those fancy skirts they wear like on pintrest and stuff? Like you know what i mean? The academia skirt? Yeah, i don't have one yet.
Question of the day, what is your dream profession or you could answer my other question which is what would you want to look like? Or you could answer both?
Ok, thank you again. i am gonna go study. Love and hugs and just literal joy sent your way!
- Kat, the ultimate dino mom of Leo, Billy Bob, Jessica, Sophie, Jackson, Sarah, Lily, the Micheals and all her other kids. (Jessica, Sophie and Jackson are mailboxes and Lily is a computer, Micheal is my screwdriver and laptop pencil, there are two micheals.)
Dear Kat,
It's really good to see you in my inbox. I'm sorry for replying late, but exams really had occupied my schedule today and I got my Saturday exam tomorrow. This week is going to be stressful and today's day has been pathetic. I had nothing to do except study and write exams. I feel like I haven't really been social recently and That I'm losing touch with people that I used to be close with and basically I'm letting overthinking take over my mind.
That is so sick. Why is someone's genuine opinion bothering them so much? I totally wouldn't be able to tolerate that. They ought to understand that there is a fine line between a fact and an opinion, and what you stated was just an OPINION. they have no right whatsoever to come at you like that. I totally agree... the teachers ought to have not asked for your opinion if all they desired was a particularly specific answer which opposed the statement. one of the reasons I hate the schooling system has to be THIS. people who are putting comments like that ought to realize that what you stated is exactly what they do in real life. They just want to be seen as the good kid here. At least you have the guts enough to speak the truth.
Miss! You don't have to worry about ranting out to me. You can rant to me for days and I'd still listen. Just go on ranting nobody is stopping you.
Ahhh! I've had that happen to me. I really understand how tough that can be. I really really hate being shipped with someone who I am just platonically friends with like you've got no valid proof to believe that we are romantically involved with each other. I've burnt myself plenty of times too. It's not a pleasant experience. Plus I also hate having controlling partners. Cause all they do is boss you around while they are barely doing a thing. It sucks.
Why? Just why? Why does it even matter to them? Who you date and what your sexuality is, is none of their business. I have no idea why people concern themselves with topics that really don't involve them. It's like people are just ready to make gossip out of anything. A person can't have a bestie without not liking them? I don't get what's so difficult to understand about that. I hate it when I'm casually talking to a guy and people start shipping us and start spreading rumors of us being in a romantic relationship. Another thing they do is, if a person likes me, they automatically assume that I like him back when I've barely even ever spoken to that guy. And yes! I like fictional characters! Don't even assume I like any of you fools cause You idiots bully me and ship me with total crackheads... And my standards are good enough for me to not include you guys in my list of *appropriate candidates* which consists of non-existent people.
Similarly, the moment I'm chatting with some guy, or like have a pic with someone on my mobile phone people just assume that fact that I'm crushing on him. Like no! I don't. We are friends... the others are celebrities, Why can't you understand that? I can't imagine how thick their skull must be considering they can't let a small statement like that sink in.
The crying thingy... I feel personally attacked. Nobody lets me do anything in peace, let alone crying. I literally use the washroom in my room and even my sister comes in there just banging on the door asking me to get the heck out of there and go somewhere else, like can't she use the other two washrooms or what? I like listening to sad stuff and reading angst cause somehow or the other it calms me down... it makes me feel at peace cause I know I'm not the only one who feels like crying. I've got a lot of friends, nobody remembers my birthday, I remember all of theirs'. They don't even text me, It's always me who takes the first step. All my friends just want me by their side cause I'm a smartass they want to show off as a trophy and cause I've got much better sarcasm than them. They just want to benefit from me. That's all. GOD, I'm not pretty at all. I look like a random idiot all the time. I look pathetic. And I lack talent... And you! I warned you, miss! You are pretty, beautiful, talented, smart, friendly, caring, kind and THE BEST!!!
I've never been given attention. Never ever. My sister has always stolen the spotlight. And I hate it. Not even my friends acknowledge me, my parents just ehhhhh. No matter how good I score, No matter how good I behave, No matter what. I'm just never good enough. My parents think of me as a rebellious kid. And I don't know what to do about that. All I've ever done is listen to them. My parents never allowed me to go out and play with my friends when I was a kid, they never let me go on overnight trips, and they barely let me spend time with the few friends I have. They never let me go to outings my school friends planned. Despite that, I never complained. I never had good friends because of that, yet I never complained. A lot of kids my age roam around in shopping malls by themselves, have sleepovers, spend money, roam around with tons of makeup on their faces, are in relationships, and even get into illegal shit. I've never done anything Like that. And yet... I'm never the good kid. I'm still the rebel.
I've got to take care of my sister almost every day. Get her to study, study myself, take care of myself while tolerating my grandmother. I really don't like my grandma, she s very fussy and just keeps yelling around the house the moment my dad and mom leave the house. I've got sensory overload because of her voice. And now I sit and have an anxiety attack almost every time she speaks. I've always got to strive for perfection as well. And I too can't sleep well at night just cause all the worries of the world, keep weighing me down.
Chaotic academia sounds good. It's the same aesthetic my sister got when I asked her to take the test! And oooh! Me too! I love those skirts and outfits they show on Pinterest. I'd love to have them someday.
My dream profession has to be that of a writer. Or perhaps even running a library. just something cozy. Ohh! I'd love to have brown hair, and I'd want to be tall just a little shorter than What I am right now. I just reached my father's height yesterday. And more or less, I'd like the rest to stay just as it is. and perhaps a lighter shade of skin tone. What about you though?
My question for you! If you were to be stranded on a beach island for a week. Who would you bring with you and how would you spend your time there. You can include whatever elements of nature you want to include like forests, lakes, and all.
Sending love, warmth, hugs, and whatever I have to spare that you would like to you!!!!
-Love from Lisette
P.S. That's an interesting family you've got, right there!
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jjmaebank · 4 years ago
Text
wish you were gay - jj maybank
A/N: So I wrote this based off my own first heartbreak haha fun! Yeah fr, this all comes from the heart and I literally poured my real emotions and experience into this so it’s really special to me. The song ‘wish you were gay’ by Billie Eilish just reminds me of it cuz I listened to it on repeat getting over it and I related to it. If you haven’t heard it I highly recommend! Also italics are flashbacks!
Summary: you and JJ had something you thought was real, you fell for him and you thought he’d fallen for you too, but this becomes an evident lie as he makes a rash decision that ends in disaster.
Warnings: angst, heartbreak
Words: 1,802
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Heartbreak. Heartbreak is a perpetual feeling that something bad is about to happen. It’s grief, fur-lined with fear that joy has forever escaped you, that there will be no happily ever after for you. Heartbreak is a tightness in your chest; it makes air feel like razor blades moving through you. It’s waking up in the morning and having three seconds where you don’t remember, and those three seconds will be the only part of the day where the dread doesn’t sit and fester in your gut.
Heartbreak was what you were feeling. After a full day of acting alright, like everything was fine and going back to normal, you’d go home and cry. You’d cry until your body was physically exhausted, to the point where you had no tears left, to the point where your face was sore. You’d cry until you felt physically and emotionally drained and then you would just lay in your bed staring up at your blank ceiling, basking in your own self-pity.
What had gone so terribly wrong? You couldn’t wrap your head around it even weeks afterwards. It kept you up at night, gnawed at you incessantly, played in the back of your mind constantly. Were you unlovable? Were you never going to be good enough for anyone? Why was it that everyone you let in pushed you away, abandoned you as soon as you let your guard down?
+
You and JJ were lying on John B’s couch after a night of partying, the both of you still a little drunk. You were wrapped up in his arms as he stroked your hair and placed sweet kisses on your forehead. You looked up at him in adoration and placed your hands on his bare chest.
“(y/n),” he said nervously, meeting your gaze.
“Yes?” You smiled, his anguish causing your heart rate to quicken.
“I’ve just been thinking, like…we’ve been messing about for a while now…and I guess I uh don’t really know what we are, but I know that I um…like you, like a lot…” he blabbered, removing his hand from you waist to scratch the back of his neck.
You continued staring at him, your mouth curling up in a smile as you felt him squirm underneath you as he tried to pluck up the courage to say what he’d been meaning to for weeks now.
“I guess…I uh guess this is me asking whether you wanna go out with me?” He asked, avoiding eye contact, too scared to see your reaction.
You grabbed his chin gently and tilted his head down to look at you.
“You want me to be your girlfriend?” You smiled. You’d wanted to hear those words for a while now.
“I- uh, yeah,” he replied nervously.
“Well then, yes,” you grinned, watching his eyes widen and his cheeks go crimson.
“Yes? As in yes you want to be my girlfriend?” He stuttered.
“What else would I be saying yes to you dumbass,” you chuckled, making him go red.
He pulled you into a tighter embrace, his whole being consumed by joy.
“Thank god,” he gasped, “that shit was scary.”
+
You remembered that night clearly, you’d never been so elated. The confusion and uncertainty between the two of you completely erased as you finally confessed your feelings for one another. You’d never felt so good in your life. You loved him, you hadn’t told him that yet, but he wanted you to be his girlfriend and that was enough for you at the time. You finally got the clarity you needed, that he was yours and you were his and nothing would change that…or so you thought.
It didn’t take long for things to go south between you and JJ, perhaps a little over a month. One of the best months of your life soon turned into the worst, all in one night.
+
“What is up with you?” You yelled at JJ. He’d been ignoring you all week, coming up with excuses not to see you and avoiding your texts and calls.
“I’ve just been busy, alright!” He yelled back, his voice laced in frustration. He was keeping something from you.
“Bullshit, J! You’re not too busy for John B, for Pope, for Kie! You’re apparently only too busy for me!” You shouted. “What aren’t you telling me?”
JJ sighed and sat down on John B’s couch, running his hands through his messy hair.
“Did I do something?” You whispered, sitting down across from him.
“No…no…” JJ shook his head, staring down at the wooden floorboards.
“Then what is it?” You pleaded, your voice threatening to crack at any moment. “Why don’t you talk to me anymore?”
“I fucked up (y/n)…” JJ said, finally looking up at you. His eyes showed pity, guilt even.
Your heart felt like it had sunk to your feet. What did he mean he fucked up? Had he cheated? A million thoughts raced through your mind as you processed his words.
“W-what do you mean?” You stuttered, your heart now beating at a speed you didn’t know to be humanly possible.
“I lied to you (y/n),” his lip trembled; he was holding himself back from crying. You’d only seen JJ cry once, after telling you about his father, so it scared you that he was showing signs of it again.
“You lied? What do you mean you lied, JJ?” You asked, your voice raised yet still shaky.
“I told you I wanted you to be my girlfriend,” he stated, his eyes still glazed with guilt.
Your breath hitched as you took in his words. Out of the million things that had crossed your mind, this was not one of them.
“I’m so sorry, (y/n), I really thought I wanted this…” he continued, his voice strained. “We had a lot of fun and I really like hanging out with you, but I just…I can’t do this…us…”
You felt sick. You felt a sob making its way up your throat as you felt your heart breaking, shattering into tiny pieces.
“So this was all a lie?” You choked, “I never meant anything to you?”
You could see the hurt in his eyes seeing what he’d done to you.
“I’m so, so sorry (y/n),” he shook his head, “I never meant to hurt you.”
“Bullshit!” You stood up from your seat, tears streaming down your face. “You don’t just fuck with someone’s feelings on accident!”
“We were drunk (y/n)!” JJ stood up. “I thought I knew how I felt, but I didn’t and I’m sorry! I was wrong okay? Fuck! I was wrong!”
“Alcohol doesn’t give you feelings for someone out of the blue, JJ,” you cried, “so you must’ve lied that night. You must’ve lied right to my face when you told me you liked me! When you told me you wanted me to be yours!”
You could barely see through your tear coated eyes and the taste of salt stung your lips.
JJ simply stood there in silence, shame overcoming him. He knew he was an idiot and he hated himself for it. He cared for you, he really did, but he knew leading you on anymore would just hurt you more than he already had.
“I just don’t think I’m a relationship type of guy (y/n)…I’ve tried but I can’t be the guy you want me to be… I’m sorry…” he sighed, sticking his hands into the pockets of his cargo shorts, biting his lip and sniffling.
“To think I was going to tell you I loved you…” you muttered, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.
JJ’s eyes widened at your confession, “(y/n)…I-”
“Save it, JJ,” you interrupted, “You’ve made it very clear how you feel.”
“I’m so sorry, so fucking sorry,” he mumbled, letting a single tear slip down his cheek.
“I really hope you are,” you cried grabbing your stuff, “and I hope that you never do this to anyone ever again.”
+
JJ Maybank had broken your heart, that was a fact. The first boy to make you feel wanted, worthy, was the same to absolutely ruin you. You spent countless nights crying yourself to sleep, blaming yourself for what had happened, convincing yourself that you could never be loved. You had to spend time away from the pogues at first, you couldn’t bear to see JJ, you wouldn’t let him see what he’d done to you just. For him to pity you.
You were so embarrassed by what had happened that you longed to blame it on anything other than the truth, the truth that JJ simply didn’t love you and he never would. But what hurt the most was thinking that he could have. The time you spent together felt so real that you couldn’t comprehend how he could discard it with such ease, just pretend like it had never even happened. He’d given you a taste of the happiness you’d craved so dearly and then ripped it away from you in the blink of an eye, that’swhat hurt the most.
What a fool you were, thinking a boy notorious for one night stands and meaningless hook ups could ever settle down permanently with the likes of you. You dreamed of being the one who he came to when he was sad, of being the first person he confided in after a beating from his father, but that’s all it was, a dream. He hardly let you in, despite your many efforts. The truth was you weren’t the first thing he thought of when he woke up, or the last thing before he fell asleep. He didn’t fantasise about your lips and the way it felt to kiss you, or how it felt to hold you or hear you laugh; he took you for granted.
You wished you could have been that girl in the movies, the girl that gets the player to change his ways and fall for her, the girl that makes him never want to be with anyone else ever again, but you weren’t her and you never would be.
+
A/N: whoooosh I haven’t written in a good 2 weeks or something so idk there you have it
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