#I��LL BE DROWNING IN A POOL OF MY OWN TEARS | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vanchlo · 4 years ago

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The Assistant / Chapter Forty-Eight, “I’m Home”

*Not my gifs*

Clickable Links:

- Masterlist feat. all chapters and Character Surveys

- Inspo tag

- Hecky Playlist

- Read on Wattpad

Word Count: 7.6k words

Warnings: None

Music Inspo: Forever Like That by Ben Rector (click to listen)

SNEAKYYYYYY PEEK

His eyes find mine first and I can’t tell if the sage green is blurring because my eyes deceive me, or that his betray him. Within seconds, it seems that both of our eyes have made a mess of themselves with tears, his shed onto my hand when he brings it to his lips with a kiss. I’m certain that he could taste mine when I steal a kiss from his lips, and those that water his neck with them, sure to not smudge the sentiment that waits to become permanent above his heart.

“Harry Styles,” I giggle nervously with hot cheeks, shaking my head as I stare at the floor, our intertwined hands blocking my view ever so wonderfully.

“My Rebecca Ann.”

Lifting them, my eyes find him like they always so easily do, and so do the divots that fall into his cheeks. The three words that I feel like repeating over and over to him fall again from his lips in a hushed whisper.

I love him more than I did just a second ago. Again.

"When I’m with her, I feel happy to be alive. Like I can do anything, even talk to you like this. So, that’s what I think love is. When I’m better because she’s here.” - Boy Meets World

“Reckon ‘ve neva seen a sight mo’ beautiful in me entire life.”

“Sounds like you haven’t lived long enough then.”

“‘m serious, Becks, yer absolutely gorgeous,” I exhale all in one breath, and with so many others wanting to spill out and join. “Yer everythin’, bug.”

“Oh, hush.”

“Or else, what, Becks? You’ll make me be quiet? Hmm, ‘d like t’ see you try that one, babe,” I tease, letting my nose drag along her cheek and my laugh float over to her ears. “Reckon yer takin’ too long. ‘m an impatient bloke, y’know.”

It’s a tragedy to silence her lips budding with a bubbly laugh, but my, do they taste magnificent. Her smile does as well, and so does the song that ignites from my fingers as they run down her arms free of wires and tubes, albeit an annoying cast.

“Meant it, y’know, that yer so beautiful,” I whisper against her mouth, lifting my head to punctuate my words with a kiss on top of her head. “You look good and seems like you feel that way, too.”

“Mmmhmm,” she murmurs from below me, the corners of her rose colored lips curling into her cheeks.

The pink has begun to return to them and so has her dimple indefinitely. It doesn’t compare to the fluttering inside of my chest at the sight of her ocean eyes peering up at me, the flecks of gold glimmering in the light. Admiring her seems to grow better as if climbing a mountain, because next, I get to enjoy the familiarity replaced with her wavy hair pooled over her shoulders.

“I’m ready,” she exhales nervously, and the baby freckles dotting her cheeks blur in front of me. “Harry, don’t cry, or else you know that I will too.”

“‘m sorry, ‘m jus’ so bloody happy,” I laugh, finding it hard to stop my lips from quivering as I look at her - the familiarity of the jeans and hoodie hugging her body, the new purple Vans bright on her feet, and the flicks of mascara she insisted on wearing even though she doesn’t need it. “‘m so unbelievably happy that I get t’ bring ya home, bug. Finally.”

“Me too,” she croaks, a glistening tear falling into the divot of her dimple before collecting at her chin. They disappear from my view, both luckily and not, when she pulls me into her arms. I can’t complain about it, though. “Thank you. I could never say it enough for everything, Harry, you-.”

“Yer welcome, Becks, forever and ever. No need t’ thank me, I know ya woulda done tha same fer me.”

“I would have,” she whispers against my neck. I nod into her hair that my nose is smothered by in the best possible way, and it makes me wonder if you can overdose on the smell of orange blossoms and vanilla. It seems a happy drunkenness may come from smelling it, afterall.

It’s a feat in and of itself to leave her arms, but it shrinks in comparison to the relief I feel at wiping her tears away, unsure of the last time I felt happy to do this, or this happy at all.

“Shall we get goin’ then, love?” I ask her, thumbing at the imperfection in her cheek that could never be anything short of perfection to me.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Becks nods. “But, one thing first.”

“What’s that? I didn’t think ya wanted t’ spend anotha second in this place.”

“I don’t, but one last kiss is okay,” she smirks and quickly, I’m tasting the absence of melancholy and pain in her kisses. I know that they still sit there, somewhere near, but I choose to ignore them at this moment and to pretend that I can kiss her sadness away. “Okay, now, we can leave.”

“I know ‘ve been waitin’ too long t’ do so . . look at you being a superhero and e’rythin’, bustin’ outta here within a week . . Let’s bring you home already, bug.”

It’s rather hard to get used to - not one, but two things. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to how beautiful she is and I thought she was a sight when we left the hospital, but damn, was I wrong. She keeps doing that, proving me wrong, always has. I like it more now than I did in the beginning. Now, wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets in her bed, it really is by far the best sight.

My glowing smile sputters and almost goes out completely when I sigh with a hand in my hair. I just had gotten used to the idea of her being in a hospital and trusting the nurses, and now here I am, her nurse. I liked the thought at first, but now that it’s happened and I’m here, it scares the daylights out of me.

What if I do something wrong?

What if I, of all people, hurt her - elbow her in the stomach in the middle of the night, mess up her bandaging when I rewrap it, or worst of all, mess up her meds?

It all frightens me when I know fully well that I should be the happiest person on earth right now to have her home. But after she got over her bout of sickness, I kept waiting for something else to happen, and I’m still sitting on the edge of that seat, waiting. I never saw the accident coming, but I want to expect the next one, as if I could ever stop something like that from happening. Pffft, I’m no superhero. I don’t know who I think I am, but I know that I want to be everything she needs, and yet, deep down I never could be.

“Harry?”

“Ya, bug? You alright?” I murmur, my hand falling to my side. “Ya need anythin’?”

“Eh, just for you to watch some FRIENDS with me,” she mumbles, cocking her body to look at me over her shoulder. The eagerness taut in her features melts away, and I straighten up, hoping that I didn’t blow my own cover.

“Alright, Harry?”

“Yeah, ‘m fine, Becks. Jus’ thinkin’ ‘m gonna hafta readjus’ me rules fer fallin’ asleep in the middle o’ watchin’ sumthin’ as we might both break that rule,” I quip, leaving my watch in the doorway to join her under the covers.

Worrying away at my bottom lip, I fail to ignore how that lie went over about as well as if she would’ve told it to me. I could be a good liar, but never to her, and the thought itself cements my insides with guilt.

Her laugh fills the dark with some light inside of me, and her famous toasty body nuzzles against mine.

“You’re sure?” Becks wonders aloud, and meeting her questioning gaze is overdue as I stare off into space.

“‘Bout what?” I reply, a V belatedly forming between my brows in wonder.

“If you’re alright. I’m sorry, but I don’t think that I believe you.”

“Oh, that,” I exhale with an ironic laugh that couldn’t be anything but sad. “Ya, I dunno if I believe meself eitha,” I answer at last, feeling much too sour to keep secrets from her that sprout into lies.

No, if I’ve learnt anything recently, it’s that life can flip you on your ass in a moment. I could lose her in a blink, and I very well almost did. The very last night that I want to be thinking is, ‘why did I tell her that silly little lie when I could’ve just grown a pair and told her the truth?’

“Harry, what’s the matter?” she speaks up, lulling the monsters away with her fingers scratching my beard. “I think you need a nap, you’ll feel better after some sleep, and in a bed.”

“No- I mean, ya. Yer right, but that’s not it.”

“What is it then? You can talk to me, love,” she says, and the sentiment weeds into my thoughts and greets my heart.

“I jus’ . . I wanna be enough fer you, Becks, and I dunno if I can,” I confess gently, avoiding her intimidating gaze and instead, entranced by her twirling that braided ring.

“Harry, where’s this coming from? Why do you feel that way?” Becks sighs sadly, and within moments, I wish that I’d never said a thing.

“Nevamind, ‘s jus’ tha sleep deprivation talkin.’ Ignore, silly ol’ me.”

“No, I won’t ignore what you said, because it’s not true,” she replies firmly. The prickly wrapping of her arm cast rubs at my jaw when she turns my head to look at her. “I can’t force you to talk, and I don’t want to make you do anything, but . . I’m here, Harry. You’ve said that loads when I’m afraid or losing my shit . . and I dunno, it grounds me.”

“Thanks,” I smile slowly, feeling the words warm up on my tongue. “I want mo’ than anythin’ t’ take care o’ you and ‘m over tha moon happy yer home, but . . ‘m afraid I won’t do a well enough job, or that ‘ll mess it up.”

“You won’t, Harry,” she assures me, leaving circles drawn onto my cheek that may be invisible to everybody else, but me.

“How d’ya know?”

“Because you’ve shown me how good you can take care of me, especially this week, and the whole two and a half years I’ve known you, Harry Styles,” she insists, leading my eyes back to hers. “I know you’ve told me it a hundred times, but I think it’s time you heard it too - everything is going to be okay. I’m okay, and you’re going to be okay.”

I nod quickly, swallowing against a dry throat and feeling the slick swiping of her finger catch the tears. They don’t just stop there and proceed to drown her fingers, and then the fabric of her shirt when she drags me over to her and against her front.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” she hums softly, zings of electricity left at the sight of her fingertips beside my spine. “This is the real scary part, huh? To come home and to act like everything is okay, and to return to real life . . I feel it too, it’s kind of suffocating . . but I know that we’ll get through this, taking care of each other. I’m not going anywhere, love.”

“Thank you . . fer stayin . . fer bein’ here.’”

“Always, Harry.”

“Always,” I murmur, gently breaking through the tangles found in his hair, falling like ribbons between my fingers. Licks of the vanilla and something musky waft from his hair when I press a kiss to the crown of his head.

I let my heavy sigh fall into his curls as my cheek molds to his skull, a hummed song escaping my lips. It sings itself while I drag my fingers through his hair until there are no more snarls or tangles to be found, and my fingers ache from drawing circles into his back. The sniffling and sobs have ended finally, replaced by gentle snoring. His chest rising and falling against mine brings a quiet peace to me, and only now can I let my eyes fall shut, unsure if I feel heavier or lighter now. All that time where I was trying to heal, and even now, I was numb to the fact that he was breaking at my side, further and further.

I hope that you’ll let me fix you, too, Harry.

Sunlight creeps in through the hastily drawn shades, leaving my eyes scoured with white patches in front of them. Blinking them away slowly, my gaze wanders to the covers I lay beneath and that take me a few moments to place. It all comes together, like puzzle pieces, as I watch my bedroom sharpen around me. I feel the smile tug at my lips when I find the tousled head of dark curls lying opposite of me. He’s more real than he was a second ago when his thickening beard rubs at the back of my finger, and his locks fall through my fingers. Creases form on his forehead and a light moan sounds from behind his lips.

“Shh, go back to sleep, it’s okay,” I coo against his hair with a kiss, feeling my smile widen when his arms come around my middle.

“So, this is real,” I whisper, tracing shapes through his Queen shirt, relishing the sleepy warmth he spreads across me. With a huff, my hands find new homes on his body and I let myself fall back to sleep, thinking of all of the other dreams I’d like to come true next.

Shoots and zings of pain awaken me the next time, followed by the creaking of the door and a different voice.

“Ree, you awake?” somebody whispers from behind the door, but when I see the shock of green hair, I wonder how I could forget that face for a second. “Hey, morning- well, for one of you. It’s time for your meds, and I made some brekky. You should have your pills with it, I can bring some in for you.”

“Morning . . No, it’s okay, I want to let him sleep. I think he needs it more than me, do you think you could help me up and out?”

“Sure thing,” she whispers, her pink bunny slippers making soft pat-pat noises on the hardwood floor.

“Sweet dreams,” I wish ever so softly into his hair smelling of Sundays baking with my gran. Regrettably, my arms jelly like from sleep slide away from him, and I inch towards the other side of the bed.

“That had to have been the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah, it’s like living in a dream,” I remark with a happy laugh, exhaling when my bum finds the cushions of the sofa. “If you would’ve told twenty-four year old that I’d be waking up to Harry in my bed at twenty six, I wouldn’t have believed you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me, I wouldn’t have believed you, either,” Skye giggles, setting down a plate in front of me with a soft clatter, accompanied by the tap of a glass of orange juice.

“Okay, Chef Robbins, how much do you think I can eat? I’m not bloody pregnant, now am I? I’m just injured, not eating for two here,” I quip, nevertheless picking up the fork and stabbing at a curd of scrambled eggs.

“Don’t you even, you need to be getting your appetite back. I don’t expect anything less out of you - eating all of this. You have every damn food group on this plate, thank you very much - Harry would be proud.”

“He would. What, did you blooming write up a food menu with him, or something?” I ask through a few bites of fluffy eggs.

“No, but we did come up with a list of groceries together, so I reckon that’s fairly the same.”

“You, go grocery shopping, since when?” I say, crumbs littering my fingers when I pick up the half slice of buttered toast, shoveling cheesy eggs onto them.

“Since your bloody boyfriend bullied me into doing it.”

“Hmm, I should’ve had him do that a long time ago,” I laugh, and it’s welcomed by the sound of her obnoxious one. “My bloody God, you’re going to wake him up with that honker of yours, you know that!”

“Whoops, I better shut up. I need you all to myself for a change.”

“Oh, hush up, you had me all to yourself for twenty years or so, reckon you can give me up for a little bit,” I jest, watching her wild bed head shake back and forth with her disagreement. “Also, when’d you become a cook? This is good.”

“It’s eggs and cheese, no duh it’s good and it’s easy. Is he going to have any? There’s plenty more.”

“I dunno, I want him to get some more sleep. The poor guy’s been sleeping on a sofa for the last week, for Christ’s sake.”

“Fuck,” she sighs, biting into her toast with a crunch, leaving grape jam on her lips quite adorably. “Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.”

“What?” I say, staring at the blobs of jam on her lips until I hear my name rasped from the other side of the room. “Harry. H-hi, good morning. There’s uh, breakfast if you want some.”

“Oh, thanks. ‘ll use tha loo first.”

“And maybe put a shirt on, or, maybe not after all,” Skye jokes under her breath, but loud enough for me to hear as I watch Harry disappear down the hallway enclosed by the kitchen’s back wall. Every inch of his sleepy body regrettably leaves my eyes, including the mess of bedhead on him, the lack of a shirt, and amongst other things, those green eyes that only relaxed when they found me.

“Shut up, you creep!” I retort, failing to keep my chuckle to a low hush when her contagious laugh does its magic.

“All I’m saying is that I’m not complaining about the new house guest,” she explains with a shrug of her measly shoulders, standing to her feet. “I guess I’ll give the happy couple some privacy and eat my brekky with Buffy in my room.”

“Yeah, you go and pout, and leave my boyfriend alone in the hallway.”

“I can’t promise anything!” Skye squeals, her slippered feet slowly becoming harder to hear.

“Mmm, when’d ya wake up, bug?” somebody else asks, but I was ready and noticed him the moment his tall body walked back into frame.

“Only a few minutes ago.”

“Oh, how’re you feelin’? Did you take yer meds yet?” Harry questions, rubbing at his eyes on his way into the kitchen, too far away for my liking.

“I’m fine, but sore. Skye woke me up in the middle of the night to take my meds then, and I’m just about to take some more. How fun.”

“Oh, ‘m sorry I missed ‘em last night, Becks. I thought I set an alarm on my phone,” he yawns, his drowned out voice accompanied by the scraping of the pan.

“Yeah, I turned it off after she had done it, because I wanted you to sleep. That’s why I didn’t wake you just now, you need to sleep more.”

“I know, but ‘m okay. I woke up and saw you weren’t there, and I couldn’t fall back asleep.”

“You’re cute when you’re all worried,” I joke, chewing the last bite of scrambled eggs as the sofa cushions dip underneath me. “And shirtless.”

“Oh ya . . sorry ‘bout that. I mean it when I say yer a li’l heater, Becks, and with all o’ those blankets, I must’ve gotten too hot and taken me shirt off sumtime,” he explains with a shake of his head, the bright flesh of the strawberry contrasting to his bubblegum pink lips that surround it. Okay, Becky, it is too early and my brain is too foggy to be having these kinds of thoughts already today. “Alright, babe?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. The strawberries just look so good,” I lie, picking up one and biting into the juicy fruit. I’m unsure of how to feel about the fib going over his head, but it’s whisked away when his cold toes playing footsie with mine instead nudge mine repeatedly.

“Pills,” he insists from across me, nodding to the foreign looking organizer sat on the coffee table before me.

“Yes, yes, Nurse Styles,” I exhale, leaning forward to grab them, but I stop when a tight pain radiates through my abdomen.

“What’d I tell ya ‘bout bein’ careful, love? Ya can’t push yerself too hard now. Are you okay?” Harry coos, dropping his fork onto the plate sat on his lap, making quick work of grabbing the case for me.

“I know, Dad.”

“Now, what’d ‘d say ‘bout all that bein’ stubborn shit . . huh?” he rasps, voice framed by the clicking and clacking of the case opening and pills shaking about.

“I know, I know, you’re just fun to tease.”

“We know that too,” he answers, setting the case aside and clearing his throat a few times until I look at him.

“What, do you not know how to use your words?” he only dips his head a little lower and sighs.

“Watch tha mouth,” he huffs jokingly, dropping the slew of pills into my palm with a nod to my orange juice.

“You never said anything about toning down the sass.”

“Didn’t gather that I needed t’, Rebecca Ann, ‘ssa given,” he replies with his seesaw like shoulders helping him talk, finishing off the last few bites of his toast.

With a groan, I pick up the heavy bottomed glass and between a few glugs of juice, swallow down the multitude of pills. I chase them down with a few more bites of strawberries and hash browns.

“That betta not be all yer eatin’, Becks,” Harry tuts from my side, scraping his fork along the plate to gather the last scraps of eggs.

“I’m done.”

“No, yer not. Ya can be afta ya have two mo’ bites o’ p’tatoes, a strawb’rry, and finish yer juice,” he instructs, pointing his fork at the various food items.

“Fine, Dad,” I grunt, returning the fork to my hands and doing as he says. “You know, I’d make some joke about how you’d be a good lawyer, or better yet, a good father being all bossy, if you weren’t getting on my nerves.”

“That means ‘m doin’ me job then,” he chuckles softly from his perch on the sofa. “Hey, where d’ya think yer goin’?”

“What, I can’t go pee without you having to know that too?”

“Sorry,” he barely squeaks, looking away sheepishly from behind me.

“It’s okay, just chill on the ‘hovering dad thing’ when you’re well, not a dad.”

“I wouldn’t hafta act like yers if ya did what yer told with a li’l less attitude,” he bites back sarcastically, and I wish that he could see my eyes rolling from this far away.

“I learned from only the best!”

“Hey!” his protest meets my ears just as I close the bathroom door with a giggle, sighing when I get off my dodgy ankle to relieve myself.

“How upset are ya with me?” Harry coos, a creak heard behind him as he shuts my bedroom door.

“I’m not upset. I’d just like a little more ‘friendly nurse’ and a little less ‘drill sergeant’ from you, is all.”

“‘m sorry, bug, but we know both yer ‘bout tha most stubborn person we both know,” he explains, daring a few fingers to stroke my cheek. “C’mon, open ‘em up, Ocean Eyes.”

“No.”

“Becks,” he drawls with a feisty giggle, dragging his nose down the expanse of my cheek. “Y’know ya can’t stay mad at me fo’ too long, ya’ve never been able t’.”

“Oh, wanna bet?”

“Rebecca Ann,” he whines, bringing forth a giggle from my lips at his beard tickling my neck.

“What, Harry Edward? I swear, we’ve known how to push each other’s buttons since the beginning.”

“I don’t disagree,” he says in that breathy laugh. “C’mon, let’s have a cuddle, babe. You can’t deny me.”

“Oh, wanna bet?” I chuckle, moving away from him, finding that this stupid arm cast of mine gets stuck everywhere and on everything.

“Becks!” he scoffs with the most offended look on his face when he leaves my neck. “Be nice t’ me, ‘m jus’ tryna love on you, bug.”

“I don’t disagree,” I quip, relishing in the eye roll I receive and fully deserve, and enjoying the happiness that trickles from my lips next.

“C’mere, li’l one, yer bein’ a li’l shit again, I think I may have even missed it,” Harry says, the bed dipping under his weight as he returns me to his arms, draping the covers over us. “My bug,” he coos, following the nickname with a slew of kisses to my cheeks.

I think I’ve almost made it, almost.

“Harry, would you stop it already?!” I groan, exasperated by the sound of shuffling items and the pew-pew of the spray bottle.

“‘m almost done, Becks.”

“That’s what you said half an hour ago, Harry! Ugh, stop cleaning already and come and watch FRIENDS with me. We both know you’re not really watching it when you’re cleaning, no matter what you say,” I sigh, flipping open the covers in invitation. He stands back up and his eyes cast over to me with a raised eyebrow. Both of mine inch towards my forehead in response, challenging him. “Harry Edward, I swear to-,” I wheeze, losing my control.

“You swear what, huh, Rebecca Ann?” he responds, at last setting down the rag and cleaning spray on my desk that has never sparkled or looked so tidy as it does now, along with the rest of my bedroom. “Huh? Talkin’ a lotta shit, aren’t we? I swear t’ God, yer all bark and no bite,” he continues with a smile, the overhead light glinting on his gold cross necklace laid over his Beatles shirt that, much to my dismay, he slipped on after a shower this morning.

“You wanna bet?”

“Ya, I do,” he says, his hands falling splayed onto the mattress in front of me. My God, is he a tease with those long muscular arms, and licking those rose colored lips.

Fuck.

I can’t hold back anymore and press on the back of his neck, losing my fingers in the tight ringlets of hair sitting there, smiling into the kiss.

“Hey, watch it!” he exclaims, pulling away quickly and sucking on his bottom lip that my teeth had just sunk into. “Bloody hell, remind me not t’ doubt you anymo’, you li’l shit.”

“Your little shit,” I correct him with a smirk, pulling him closer by the neck and trying not to laugh at the shocked look on his face.

“My, you are sumthin’, aren’t you, Becks? I betta watch out. I gotta strong one here . . atta girl,” his smile is the last thing I see before his lips return to mine. “Wait a second.”

“What? I wanted to kiss you some more.”

“Oh, stop whinin’, my li’l baby,” he titters, walking away much to my dismay and opening the door to my closet. “What have I found here, hmm? ‘s this a photo album o’ baby Becks?”

“Oh, you found that?” I giggle, yanking up the covers to my shoulders and enjoying my view of him crossing the room. There is just something else about a man in joggers, sigh.

“Ya, when I was cleanin’. Looks like me hard work paid off afta’ all,” Harry says, sliding under the blankets with me. “What’re you starin’ at me like that fer?”

“Nothing,” I sigh shyly, scooting over until my head finds his tummy and his arm finds the curve of my shoulders.

“What’re you blushin’ ‘bout, li’l one?” he giggles from above me, laying his arm over the closed photo album. I only find that he’s forgotten it when I dare to peer up at him, and his eyes are waiting on me.

“I just- I dunno,” I huff with my cheeks aching from shy smiles. “This is kind of all I ever wanted, give or take a few parts. Including the waking up to you shirtless in my bed, and looking all cute in comfy clothes.”

That breathy laugh sparks his lips into a smile again, followed by his bottom lip escaping to between his teeth nervously.

“I don’t disagree,” he quips, and this time, I actually groan at how cheesy he can be. “Really tho’, Becks, I wanted all o’ this too. I dunno what t’ do with meself now that I have it all - get t’ wake up t’ you in tha mornin’, take care o’ you, spend me day watchin’ FRIENDS with you, and now, lookin’ at yer baby pictures with you. I can’t wait t’ see what our kids are gonna look like.”

“Stop it, or I’ll cry again,” I croak, swatting at his chest, but it’s nothing more than a tap.

“I hope those are happy ones,” he whispers into my hair, and a small laugh joins the tears running over my lips. “Bloody hell, think I might spill a few as well. Look at these, were you tha cutest baby or what?” Harry sighs happily after opening the book to a random page, lifting it to get a better look at a photo of four-month old Robbie and me in matching Winnie the Pooh Halloween costumes. Looking up at him, something twinkles in his eye and in his cheeks where the dimples sit lower than ever.

I hope oh so badly that our babies have those dimples of his. Someday.

Until then, I’ll soak up these days of waking up to him, hopefully shirtless, and falling asleep together watching our favorite show, and wondering how it could get any better.

Every day seemed to run into the next, and in the best way possible, don’t get me wrong. I got to wake up to Harry beside me, toasty in my bed, and due to that, absent of a shirt and I was not complaining. No, siree. Some body parts still hurt quite a bit, but slowly they hurt less and less, and through that time we got our routine down. Pills three times a day and then twice, Skye helped me with showers, physical therapy three times a week, my ankle became more steady, I could stay awake for longer periods at a time without needing a nap like a growing puppy, and quickly, I was fighting Harry for the last sausage or cookie.

He was enjoying it too, I could just tell. I would bet a lot of money that he couldn’t be enjoying it as much as me, though.

To say that I didn’t get sick of him would be a lie, because oh, were there moments. First, there was his incessant cleaning to keep him busy, which luckily was remedied by his Zoom meetings for work that he’d take in the living room once a day while I napped. Secondly, I swear he watched me and closely as I ate, and it got annoying very fast. The naps and Zooms helped loads though, as did the few times he went home to grab different clothes, do laundry and the like, and go grocery shopping, but even then I missed him a little bit. As soon as he left because I got sick of him, I wished he would come back, and that’s how it went again and again.

The cold bites at my cheeks, sure to have left them rosy and wind chapped. Not quickly enough, the car begins to warm up and so do I.

“Alright?” he says with a warmth to his voice that curls around my icy bones. Turning in my seat, I find his lips pinker than ever as he rubs the feeling back into my arm, my free one. Nodding at him, he returns it before pulling the seat belt over him and checking his mirrors.

“Are you?” I ask, a few moments after he had begun to drive.

“Mmmhmm,” he responds, kneading at his lips once we arrive at a red light, briefly meeting my eyes but not holding them.

“You’re . . acting weird, Harry,” I say slowly, unsure of my words and how he’ll receive them. “I’m the one still getting nervous about being in a car, so what’s your excuse?”

“Nuthin’ . . ,” he insists, grabbing hold of my hand when the light turns green, twirling the bracelet around my wrist absentmindedly. “‘Kay . . I was wonderin’ if we could stop somewhere befo’ we go home. Y’know, if yer not too tired afta P.T. jus’ now.”

“No, I’m good- I mean, yeah, we can. Preferably, if I can sit down at this place you’re going after that workout I just had.”

“I think that can be arranged,” Harry grins, avoiding my prying eyes that search for a hidden meaning in his words. Narrowing my eyes, I squint at him, hoping that will help me to decode his answer, but I come up empty. Sighing, I look away, unsure of why he isn’t letting me read him this one time, but forgetting it after I remember how unbelievably handsome he’s looking with the beard and ochre colored beanie pulled over his curls. “Stop starin’ at me, woman,” he titters, and I only reply with a confused shake of my head.

Sighing, I pull my phone from my pocket and find the absence of new texts, still. A smile tries at my lips when I revisit my screensaver that I gloss over at times, a giggly selfie from bed with Harry. I trace the dimples in his cheeks and the smile pinching them before letting it fall back into my pocket.

The shelves of items and hangers of clothes don’t do anything for me, nothing jumping out at me to buy it, and so I wander on to the next little shop, a bakery. Soon, a gooey cinnamon roll occupies my time as I wait, wait, and wait.

“What’s taking you so long, Harry?” I grumble under my breath, finding a seat in the corner of my favorite little coffeeshop down the street. It feels good to get off my ankle that still bothers me at times. Setting down my hot chocolate, the cinnamon roll stills in my hand when I look up and find my familiar view.

If I look hard enough, the sun is streaming in through the windows and that Bon Iver song is trickling from the speakers again. The mystery novel is sitting in front of me, beside a half empty mug of coffee, and there he is. He’s making jokes with the barista at the front, arms folded over the tall flat surface where outgoing drinks are placed for pick up. My heart could do it again, race incessantly like a horse out of its gate, and I’d likely remain glued to this seat, unwavering but not unwanting.

Dinggggg!

Blinking, I’m jolted from the memory by a sound, and suddenly, the sun isn’t leaking into the coffee shop and he isn’t standing there, belonging to somebody else anymore like I had dreamt about last night. My nightmares sure are getting creative these days, drudging up old memories from last summer, the summer from Hell. They must be drying up if they have to resort to the time I saw him in this coffee shop after he’d starting dating somebody else, the day I felt shocked in my seat dying to say hi to him, but more afraid than ever. It feels like another person then, to be afraid to go up to Harry and to say hi, but that’s how it all was. It’s how it all felt, and how I was feeling. He felt like another person entirely and so did I, as if strangers.

Shaking my head and then grimacing at the slight ache that it still holds, I glance down at my phone to find the text that I’ve been waiting for.

sorry it took me so long bug. i hope ya found something u liked at one of the shops, or coffee, knowing u ;) i’m guessing ur at the coffee shop still from ur snapchat, so if u turn the left corner, and go down to the end of that block, you’ll find me there ;) see u soon baby

I can’t hide the smile that sticks to my lips as I leave with the cinnamon roll tucked safely into my hands, but it wavers when I come across the shop he speaks of. I double check and I triple check before finding his Range Rover parked a few yards away, telling me that this is the place. How odd, I think, as the bell tinkles overhead and the classic rock music greets me.

It only takes me a few moments to find him, waiting on a brown leather sofa in a waiting room of sorts, wringing his hands in his lap. Uh yeah, I can only think of one reason why, and no more than that. I can’t tell if the anxiousness painting his body worsens or remains the same when he spots me in the doorway, standing to his feet and taking my hand.

“Hey, that’s mine!” I exclaim, grabbing for the last bite of the cinnamon roll that he steals from me. “Harry!” I sigh, watching him feed it between his lips, but he leaves one last bite pinched between his fingers.

“Oh, ya want this?” he smirks, holding it out for me. I inch forward and am surprised with a messy kiss that tastes of cinnamon and sugar, sparking a song behind my lips. “Here, baby Becks,” he coos, feeding it to me at last before he tugs on my hand to follow him.

“Harry, what’s going on? Why are we here? Why are you here, or do I even need to ask?”

“I thought ya graduated top o’ yer class, so ya should know why we’re here, Ms. Lawyer. Use yer deductive reasonin’ skills, Becks - why do ya deduce we’re at a tattoo shop?”

“Harry,” is all I say, voice absent of anything and everything as I follow him down a short hallway, and into a room that resembles a doctor’s office. It’s not much bigger, but is a spitting image with the massage parlor looking black bed-table-thingy.

“Matt, this ‘s Becks, and Becks, this ‘s Matt,” Harry says, and a tall man turns around and shines his pearly whites at me. “He’s been doin’ me tattoos fer awhile now, best artist I know.”

“H-Hi, nice to meet you.”

“You as well, I’ve heard a lot about you over the years,” Matt responds warmly, waving over to a comfy looking black office chair against the wall. Harry has already helped himself to the massage parlor looking thing, and his North Face and jumper have found their way off of him, too. “I hear you’re the reason we’re here today.”

“Wait, I am? What?” I answer, eyes flitting over to Harry’s. I’m sure of the alarm that blazes in them, and the flames only grow higher when he lets go of my hand. I can’t say that they die down when he slides off his long sleeved shirt dotted with nineties Nickelodeon tv shows, showing the entire room his sculpted torso and inked arms. The sage in his eyes warms and he scoops my hand up again, squeezing it and rubbing hearts into the back of my hand.

“Ya ready t’ see what ‘m gettin’, Becks?” Harry grins ever so proudly, I don’t think that his grin could be any more shit eating than it is right now.

The moments follow and they pass as Matt takes out a piece of what looks like tissue paper on it with purple ink, the design obscured from my eyes. The last thing he does before leaving is to press it to the blank slate above Harry’s heart, and slowly peels it away, revealing the image to me at last.

His eyes find mine first and I can’t tell if the sage green is blurring because my eyes deceive me, or that his betray him. Within seconds, it seems that both of our eyes have made a mess of themselves with tears, his shed onto my hand when he brings it to his lips with a kiss. I’m certain that he could taste mine when I steal a kiss from his lips, and there are those that water his neck with them, sure to not smudge the sentiment that waits to become permanent above his heart.

“Harry, is that-,” I begin at last after pulling away from him, my hand falling from his cheek slick with tears.

“Mmmhhm, ‘s yers,” he answers with a definitive nod, several meanings encapsulated in his words, but I take with me only a few. My fingers trace above his skin the four numbers, ever so familiar to me. “Yer handwritin’, Becks.”

“Why 2024?” I wheeze, wiping away the lingering tears, knowing that they aren’t going anywhere anytime soon. As I speak them, the answer rings behind my eyes, but I wait for his answer.

“‘Cuz,” he answers, like it’s ever so obvious, willing my eyes back to his waiting pair. “I know this year’s only started, and ‘s been a bit o’ a shit show t’ say tha least, but ‘s tha year that brought you back t’ me, and let me keep you. ‘ll be grateful t’ it forever, and t’ you, Becks.”

“I love you,” I whisper, not having decided to say the words and yet, there they are, spilling themselves to his ears.

“I love you, baby, mo’ than anythin’,” he giggles happily, a tear breaking free from his eye to course down his cheek. His beard is ticklish against my temple where his lips litter kisses and love, the reason those very numbers are about to become permanent right where his heart lives under his chest. “I found a grocery list you had written tha other day, and I dunno- I jus’ loved tha way you wrote tha year and how those numbas meant so much . . and mo’ importantly, I couldn’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout how I wanted t’ forget all o’ this . . yer accident. So, instead o’ forgettin’, I wanna remember this bumpy start we’ve had, by this, havin’ yer writin’ on me fer me life.”

“Harry Styles,” I giggle nervously with hot cheeks, shaking my head in disbelief as I stare at the floor, our intertwined hands blocking my view ever so wonderfully.

“My Rebecca Ann.”

“Are we ready to get this show on the road?”

Harry nods at me with a questioning look, and I nod at him, squeezing his hand.

“Alrighty then, let’s do it,” Matt announces with enthusiasm in his voice, something that wanes inside of me at the prospect of seeing Harry in pain.

If he can do it, going through about as much hell as I did after that car hit me, then I can at least do this. The insane amount of flattery and the overwhelming love that radiates off of him as the tattoo gun begins to buzz, helps to soften the blow.

I love him more than I did just a second ago. Again.

It smells the same, and sounds like before. I welcome the familiarity, but a shy nervousness sits in the corner of my mind, and deep down, inside of my gut. An excitement tries to overtake it up there, and I wait on the sidelines to see what will happen.

The thought is whisked away when there’s a whisper of a touch against my temple, and my body bumps habitually into his, seeking safety. Blinking hard and looking upwards to my left, I find a smile waiting in those molten sage eyes.

“Alright, bug?” Harry coos, leaning down to press his lips to mine briefly. I nod in reply, waving my thumb over his jawline hidden in thick facial hair, a sight I never thought I’d see inside of these four walls. “Are ya ready t’ get back into tha thick o’ it, Becks?”

“Are you kidding me? It’s about time that you let me come back, I’ve been going mad sitting at home having nothing to do for the last few weeks, and especially since you’ve been back part time since last week,” I answer, the song he sings joining that of my own when his fingers brush against my ribs that don’t ache from his touch anymore, and his nose nudges at my temple that doesn’t hurt when I laugh too hard.

“Hey, I know that, but I wanted t’ make sure ya wouldn’t over exert yerself and yer arm ‘s still gettin’ all caught up bein’ in that cast fer awhile. Also, I rememba a certain sumbody practically forcin’ me t’ come back, I didn’t have much say over tha matter. Hmmm, I can only wonder who that’d be,” he jests, and all hints of my poker face run away from me as he raises his eyebrows at me. The very pair he let me have my way with the other day, which lasted about five seconds before he started whining, even though the woosey has fresh ink on him.

“I know, you’re still being Daddy Harry,” I sigh dramatically, its ending found in a deep chuckle that he elicits from my lips with a surprise bear hug. His laugh drips with molasses too, and I feel like this couldn’t taste any sweeter, my arms hidden under his blazer and nudging at his belt.

“I’ll manage.”

“I know ya will, ya always do . . my Becks. ‘ll be there t’ help too,” Harry smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of my head as the electronic number reaches to twelve above our heads. My head falls to the crook of his neck where it’s longed to be . . for such a long time. Years. His solid arms filled with safety lift from me and return once they wrap his violet blazer around me, and only do I close my eyes when his lips find a temporary home on the top of my head. “Y’know, I dunno what t’ call you now - mentee, colleague, girlfriend.”

“You can just call me either or, boss boyfriend,” I suggest, meeting his glowing green eyes while an electronic ding sounds overhead, signaling another floor passed.

“Sounds good t’ me, Rebecca Holte,” he hums, a corner of his mouth curled into his cheek and sharing that happy dimple with me. The chipped black nail polish teases at my sight when his thumb runs over the brand new scars dotting my cheeks that he’s healed with his kisses. “Ya betta make this one last fer a while now, we have a meetin’ right off tha bat,” he says firmly with raised eyebrows, but a smile teases at its corners.

Standing on my tiptoes, I lean forward and close my eyes, seeing the glinting flecks of gold in his eyes as I taste the honey on his lips. It’s hidden in the words that pass unspoken between our lips, cut short by the declarative beeps and the number sixteen waiting atop, seventeen just around the corner. With a giggle, I steal one last peck from his lips, and watch as he shakes his head after my wandering hand squeezed his bum.

“C’mon, you li’l shit,” he mutters with a roll of his eyes, adjusting the strap of his shiny, new messenger bag strewn across his chest. “Or would ya ratha I say, ‘shall we, Becks?” Harry asks, holding out a hand in front of us, and I nod.

“Let’s go, boyfriend,” I say with a large smile, catching the wink he gives me as our shoes click and clack on the marbled black tiling of the firm’s floors.

Now, I have.

I’ve really made it now.

I thought I had once or twice before, but this is it. I have it all, and more is on the way, and no longer are the dreams out of arm’s reach. No, they’re right there where I can touch them, and so is a very special one that won’t stop smiling at me, and I wouldn’t ever want to stop smiling at him.

Another thing I’m sure of is that I’d never want to stop listening to the song that flows from his lips, I could listen to it for the rest of my life.

THE END . . FOR NOW

Don’t miss Harry and Becks’ future adventures in the sequel to The Assistant, The Partner, coming soon! Until then, you can catch up with Hecky when The Firsts, an Assistant Blurb Series, begins September 14th at 12pm CST! Keep an eye out for the masterlist post for The Firsts, to be published soon! I could never thank all of you enough for reading and for sticking around this long with me. I am so excited to continue this series and for you to see what’s coming ;) See you in two weeks!

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ultradiplr · 5 years ago

Text

Devotion

A Priest!Sigma/Reader fic.

Plot: You’re showing the good father your devotion.

Tags: BJ. Priest Kink. Church Sex. Reader is gender neutral.

A/N: Yeah, I have no excuse for this other than im nasty. I actually already had this written up like months ago for an unnamed character so I just slapped Sigma on it to tide me over. Enjoy, and also I’m sorry, but I'm also not. :)

“Tell me, what do you seek here, child?”

Father Kuiper’s voice, ever steady in its deep monotone that warmed your skin and chilled your bones, asks above you as you kneel in prayer in front of him. Although you don’t have the guts to look at him you can imagine him, tall, broad, larger than life, dressed in his beautiful black cassock standing with his back toward the crucifixion hanging over him.

“Forgiveness.”

You repeat like you’ve always had during his sermons, except this is not one of his sermons. There is no congregation to drown out your one measly voice, instead you are alone with him in the church and your one voice booms it’s rehearsed answer.

“Is that all, my child?”

He sounds unimpressed, uninterested even and wants something more, deeper. You gulp at feeling his intense stare on you as he prowls around you. You know he is walking with a rod straight back, long graceful strides hidden by a long cassock, he is careful in his steps, calm, collected and in no rush. He would have his long arms held firmly at his back, hands clasped as he observes your with an ever calm face always on the precipice of a smile. you watched him for so long you know his every move, his every expression, the timing in his strides and the evenness of his breaths. And yet you are terrified to be so close to him, terrified to disappoint him.

“Acceptance.”

You try not to stutter and speak clearly, eyes glued firmly down at your entwined hands in front of your and the cold, hard floor. He stops behind you and you can faintly feel the heat from his legs at your back. your breathing quickened ever so slightly as you waited for him to answer, head already swimming from the thought of him standing so close.

“And what kind of people does God accept?”

He says in a soft tone, kind and caring but never less deep and haunting to you/ You jump a little when a warm hand gently appears on the top of your head but you quickly lean into its heat.

“The devoted.”

You say with a sigh, eyes fluttering shut as he begins to pet your head softly, fingers pulling slightly at the strands of your hair. You lean into his touch and your back hits his legs. Slowly he tilts your head up to face him and his fingers frame your face. your eyes open to look at him for the first time. He is looking down at you, an expression you have only ever caught from afar, hungry and angry. You felt your skin burn again but your body became ice, terrified and excited at the same time.

“And are you, my child?”

His question is pointed and his calm voice is tipped with unusual severity, the unfamiliar change makes your stomach churn, like your gut was telling your something bad was going to happen. Yet you didn’t want to leave, didn’t want his warm hands to leave your face or sturdy presence to disappear.

“Always, Father.”

You speak in an intake of breath and holds it there, staring up at him and waiting. You were truthful, you ’ll always be devoted to the words of the Lord and in turn you’ll always be devoted to him. He was your Shepard, your leader, you ’ll always follow him, listen to him, be loyal to him.

“Show me.”

He says deeply, softly and calm but it sent a shiver down your spine with the implication. You let out your breath as he stroked your cheek with his thumb which you leaned into before kissing his palm, staring at him to gauge if you were correct. He sighed softly at that and you felt warmth spread through you with happiness.

You turned your body to face him still kneeling, watching his stone cold face, slightly hungry, slightly surprised, watch you in turn. His hands returned to your face, one stroking your head while the other cupped your cheek. His thumb traced your lips carefully, and without thinking, you opened your mouth slightly to take his finger. His breath hitched and you felt another wave of happiness that ended in your core. You sucked his finger in a way that made you blush harder, knowing what he was thinking, knowing what he wanted. Your heart was soaring, aroused at knowing that your dear priest wanted you so carnally. You know the way he looked at you during church, the way he sounded when you came to him for confessions, the way he watched as he gave you communion every Sunday.

He pulled his finger from your lips with a soft pop, his tongue slipping out of his own mouth to wet his dry lips, his eyes lidded with lust. His thumb grazed your lips again, smearing the little saliva on it on them.

“What do you want, child?”

He asks strained. Its permission he wants and are a little saddened he does not already know the answer. He always had your heart and soul in his care, and will always have. You tilt your face and kiss his palm again with a smile, looking up at him with loving eyes.

“You, Father.”

He huffed at your answer in a sort of laugh of disbelief. He uncups your face and brings it to his crotch, parting the cassock to reveal his black pants underneath and begins to fumble with his belt one handed, intent on keeping one hand on your head, perhaps needing to hold on to you to make sure this was real.

Seeing an opportunity of praise, you glide your hands up his legs to sit on his thighs. He looks at you, blushing even more as he moves his hand to let you do it yourself, both hands now on your head, moving excess hair out of your face.

You blush deeper as you feel his growing erection under the thick fabric of his pants and cant help but bite your lip when he finally gets free. Long but slim and sitting in a pool of salt and pepper pubes. You couldn’t help but see the resemblance of him in it, as silly as it was. You were confident in saying his was above average and a lot nicer than it could be for someone his age. You held it gently in one hand, gauging the shafts weight while the other gently massaged his balls eliciting a first true moan from him.

You looked up at him and smiled as he watched you with a piercing stare,

“Show me your devotion, child.”

It was a breathless and strained demand, like he was trying to keep his composure still, and you happily obeyed, spitting in your hand and beginning to stroke him. He wasn’t thick and you could wrap your hand around him but he was long and you wondered if you ’d be able to swallow him, sure he’d hit the furthest reaches of your throat. For now you just focused on preparing him and stroking him, licking occasionally and responding to what you gauged he liked by the way he gripped your head or huffed a groan.

Slowly you began to suck on him, just the tip at first as you let him adjust to the feeling, before slowly taking more and more of him in every other bob. Before long you had worked down to maybe and inch from his base, tears spilling from your eyes from the strain and lips puffy from the constant rubbing.

He was no longer looking at you with his head thrown back in bliss but still audible in his praising groans and sighs. You knows he's close from the tightness of his balls and shaft, the quickness of his breathing and the uncontrolled thrusting of his hips. You yourself are lost in lust looking up at him, his tall frame towering over you in holy black, backed by the high ceiling of the cathedral and their intricate paintings and carvings hidden by the night. He was worth every bit of worship as the things that surrounded him to you.

He hunched over suddenly and stilled, staring down at your again, breathing heavily and looking mad with his dishevel. He gripped your head tightly as his periwinkle eyes darkened to almost purple locked with your tear filled ones intensely.

“Swallow.”

It was a harsh, strained, and very uncharacteristic command as he pushed you the last inch to his base and came violently down your throat, scrunching his face up and bowing himself over you. You swallowed, not like you had any other option, and felt the warm, thick liquid dribble down your throat in a trail. When he pulled out a string of saliva followed and he looked utterly destroyed.

As he was lost in the afterglow, you smiled and placed kisses all along his shaft, lost in the moment for your love for him, for your need to praise him and show him your care. The gentleness brought his attention back to your and he watched, humming pleased in seeing your devotion for him in your eyes.

“All of that for me?”

He asks as he pets your face, relaxed and amused, giving you true, blissed out smile. He laughs at your eager nodding and bends down low enough to place a kiss on the top of your head. He puts himself away and helps your stand, wrapping an arm around your and kissing your head again.

“I think you have earned a special reward for your devotion.”

He says as he leads you toward the back of the church. The night was still young, and the good father was never one to leave a person of his congregation unsatisfied.

#Sigma #Sigma Overwatch #Overwatch Sigma #Siebren de Kuiper #Sigma/Reader #reader insert fanfiction #self insert fanfiction #Sigma fanfiction

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mariamermaid · 5 years ago

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Ghost

Billy Hargrove X female Reader

Summary: Hawkins most popular bad boy and bad girl always had a special connection, and with the upcoming summer holidays things are about to change…

Words: 5k+

Warning: Swearing, Smoking, drinking

A/N: Inspired by Halsey´s Ghost

——————-

I’m searching for something that I can’t reach

You remained seated on the motorcycle, the helmet waiting in front of you. The cigarette still hung loosely from the corners of your mouth, the red stains from lipstick fading with each puff you took. You hated Mr. Wesley for the fact that he had given you detention on the very last day before the summer holidays. He never liked you anyways.

But now it was finally over, even though the hours had stretched for what seemed eternity, the dread was finally over and nothing could stop you from the holidays.

But then you heard the howl of a car, approaching you from the side. You recognized the motor sound and didn´t even bother to take your eyes off the school building.

“What are you doing here, Y/l/n?”

“Billy”, you breathed exhausted. For several seconds you thought about giving him some snarky comment back, but you were too tired to put up with his bullshit.

“Wesley had given me detention.” You explained, finally tearing off your eyes the building to look at Billy, who was sitting in his blue Camaro. He was smoking as well, but you just finished yours and threw it away.

He huffed. “Detention? The old cunt Turner did the same with me.”

It was your turn to let out a rough laugh, then you eyed him again. He had been watching you in the meantime, just to avoid the eye contact now.

“There´s a party at Cathy´s today, you coming?” He then asked after a short silence.

Billy and you didn´t talk much, when you did, you mostly just threw comments at each other and argued. You both had a reputation to sell and especially after he had moved here, you had often battled for the titles. But after a few months, you had given in, deciding to share your territory with him. You barely actually talked to each other, it made sense you didn´t know much about him. But somehow you had gone from previous enemies to allies.

“Cathy that bitch? She´ll love to see me there!” You added with a grin. Billy nodded smiling as well.

“Right, didn´t you almost break her nose?”

“Didn´t she call you a fucking dick the other day after not wanting to go on a second date?”

You both laughed and you felt a certain weight being pulled of your shoulders. The sun didn´t stand that high anymore, the temperature dropping to a still warm but endurable level. There were no clouds, the sky was perfectly blue and birds chirped in the trees around the school.

“You got any plans for the holidays?” Billy shook his head.

“Nah, not really. Mostly starting to work as a lifeguard.” You huffed again, pulling the helmet finally closer to your body. “How fitting, you checking out girls all day and even getting paid for it.”

“Well, will you come by?”

“You wish, Hargrove. I´m not a pool person.” He chuckled lowly, while you rolled your eyes.

“Don´t tell me you don´t have a nice bathing suit for that ass of yours.”

You shrugged innocently. “I don´t, prefer to go without one at all.” You watched Billy swallow; his eyes fixed on you. “But a public swimming bath is not the place for that.” You continued smiling devilish. Then you finally pushed down the sunglasses from your head, giving him one last glance.

“Especially not with you there.”

After you put on the helmet and started the bike, you took off but still heard how he screamed after you.

“You coming to the party or not?!”

You were already too far and the machine too loud, instead you showed him the middle finger, knowing well how he hated it when you provoked him. In the mirror you could see that Billy first licked his lips, then scratched his jaw, before leaving the parking lot as well.

I don’t like them innocent, I don’t want no face fresh

Want them wearing leather, begging, let me be your taste test

You did indeed come to the party, which was already in full swing. You arrived late, not having planned to come any earlier. It was just past midnight and at least 90 percent of the people were already drunk. Luckily, the warm weather still lasted and the ripped shorts you wore were enough for the night. As always you were accompanied by your leather jacket, but you had left the bike at home. You already knew you would be drinking. Cathy stood in the front yard, flirting with a football player but when she caught an eye of you, she angrily approached.

“What are you…” You didn´t give her a chance of talking and instead, you took the cup in her hands. She almost flinched at your touch, that bloody nose of hers was a good warning.

“Heard there was a party”, you added simply and continued to walk through the garden where the most people had gathered. With a quick look into the house you saw that snacks and drinks were inside, and two couples heavily making out. In the backyard was a bonfire, a table where beer pong was played and two large speakers echoing with music.

Somebody almost ran into you, until you recognized the girl.

“Hey Nancy!” You greeted her, she smiled awkwardly, the boy holding her hand was Jonathan Byers.

“Already leaving?” You grinned and she further blushed. Nancy and you had known each other for ages, you had played together in kindergarten and when Steve was being a dick to her, you had her back. As much of a reputation you had, you never depended on images and when eyeing the two, you thought they were a cute couple.

“Yeah”, she stuttered and now Jonathan also blushed. You patted her shoulder, offering them a genuine smile. “Then have fun.”

You further chatted with various people in the crowd until the loud screams interrupted your current conversation. Together with your friend, Craig, you approached the newly formed group.

It was mostly boys, they all had gathered around one certain dirty blonde-haired boy, who just had finished jugging a beer keg. He didn´t drown the last slug and spitted it around. The group around him cheered and some even applauded; they acted like animals. While turning to shower his success Billy´s eyes landed on you, his dark orbs were dilated and hunger laid in the deep blue.

Just then you drowned your cup as well.

He grinned and strolled over to you. By his walk he was already full and when he patted Craig on the chest, you couldn´t help but roll your eyes.

“Craig, my dear friend, would you be a darling and give us some space.” Billy didn´t wait for him to protest and practically pushed him away. Craig watched you cautiously, but you shook your head, telling him that it was fine. Craig was one of the best baseball players in Hawkins and you knew he was working hard towards a scholarship, which was also why he neither drank or smoked.

Billy casually slipped his arm around your shoulder, he smelled like smoke, beer and his discernible perfume, he always wore. But you shook off his arm.

“Y/n, didn´t think you would come?”

“Didn´t want to be missing out on seeing you drunk idiot.”

He acted offended, until realizing that you weren´t drunk. He grabbed your arm again, this time harder to make sure you wouldn’t slip away again, but not in a hurting way. “C´mon we´re getting you something to drink.”

He lead you inside the house, on the couch was still the couple making out, the other one in the kitchen left at the side of Billy Hargrove, who gave them an annoyed glare.

He gave you another cup of cold punch and watched you take a sip.

“Oh, Y/n, I know you can do better.” You glared at him, a playful glare, then you drowned the cup. And another cup.

The next one you decided to take slower and Billy seemed to approve now, that he pulled you away again. You found yourself in the dark hallway, somehow already lost in the unknown house. In some inexplainable way, you didn´t mind though. Billy was still able to walk straight, well almost, but he spoke a little besotted.

“You didn´t tell me your plans for the summer, besides going skinny dipping without me, which is really a shame!”

You took out your cigarettes, knowing well that Cathy´s parents probably didn´t want to have smoking in the house. You offered him one as well, which he gladly took. While you packed them away again, Billy had pulled out his lighter and you leaned closer to catch the fire. You felt his eyes watching you closely, the small fire being one of the only light sources, your face getting illuminated.

When you looked up, you starred directly into his piercing eyes.

I like the sad eyes, bad guys, mouth full of white lies

Kiss me in the corridor, but quick to tell me goodbye

Billy leaned closer and closer, his breathing bringing the flame out of rhythm. Luckily, you weren´t yet drunk, and you quickly yanked away. The sudden movement of yours created a small wisp of wind, which extinguished the flame. For a few seconds you only heard him breathing, you had leaned back at the wall until he moved to lean against the opposite wall as well. Then he used his lighter again for his own cigarette. His eyes only catching the light for seconds, sparkling.

“I got no plans.”

It was dark again, sometimes you saw the cigarette blaze when Billy took a puff. But you knew he was watching you, because so did you.

“No plans? No vacation with family?”

He didn´t see how you bit your lip, how you pressed your fingernails into your hand.

“No, my dad´s working abroad anyway.”

He immediately realized how you didn´t mention your mother, feeling sympathy, but not telling.

“So, you´re all alone all day long?”

“I got a cat.” He huffed.

“Maybe I should come and visit, we could have some fun.”

“You don´t even know, where I live.” It was true, Billy didn´t know where you lived, but he couldn´t admit that.

He wanted to ask you more, finding himself getting more and more interested in your personal life. He also felt surprisingly peaceful, he didn´t have to pretend around you.

But your pleasant moment was again interrupted by someone.

Melissa Andrews, she sat next to you in Math and often helped you when you didn´t understand something, ran past you and stumbled into the bathroom to throw up.

You sighed and stubbed out the cigarette with your foot.

“Sorry, Bill.”

Then you joined her in the bathroom and closed the door behind you. You knew that it was better when nobody saw her in that state.

Melissa kneeled in front of the toilet, both of her hands grabbing the seat. You emptied your cup into the sink and filled it with water. Then you sat down at the rim of the bathtub, holding back Melissa´s hair. When she took a break to look up, you offered her the water.

“C´mon drink up, it´ll help I promise.”

She drowned the cup in one, then she faced the toilet again, bot not vomiting. You watched how her eyes lazily looked around, she must have felt pretty dizzy.

“Was…”, she tried, but it took a second try for her to finish the sentence.

“Was that Billy Hargrove with you in the hallway?”

You chuckled and filled the cup a second time.

“Yeah”, you answered nonchalantly, giving her the cup again. Melissa sipped, finally looking at you and not anymore the toilet, but still sitting on the bathroom floor. She started grinning.

“Oh, so the bad girl and bad boy are a thing now?” You shook your head, still smiling.

“Me and Billy? Hell no!”

She rolled her eyes. “Then why was he in here with you, talking, instead of outside with his boys or flirting with somebody?”

You knew she wasn´t wrong because her words made you think. It was your luck that Melissa had to throw up again and dropped the topic.

You waited for half an hour, until you were sure that Melissa was finished, at least for now. You then helped her stand up.

“Do you want me to get you home?” She nodded tired.

Her arm was linked with yours when you left the house and Craig quickly caught sight of you.

“Need help?”

You shook your head. “I think she´s fine for now, I´m going to walk her home, it´s only a few minutes.”

Melissa and you sometimes had studied together, you had been at her place a few times and it was not even five minutes away. When you reached the house, Melissa fumbled with the key until you unlocked the door. “Are your parents home?”, you asked whispering and she nodded.

You didn´t have to turn on the light, her room was the first door on the left and you managed to get her into bed and even take off her shoes. Then you quietly snuck out the house again, sighing relieved that her parents hadn´t noticed.

You wandered back to Cathy´s party, but the alcohol that had hit you previously, had vanished again, as well as your party mood. You decided it was just the fact that you had spent half an hour in a bathroom, and it would come back again. Melissa´s words still spun in your head. Then why was he in there with you?

You shook your head and entered the backyard again, but when turning a corner, you saw Cathy pressed against the wall, her lips crashing against Billy´s.

You sighed and rolled your eyes; your good mood was now completely ruined. A bitter taste spread in your mouth and your stomach turned.

Leaving the party again and now final, you decided to walk back home. Why did it bother you so much that Billy and Cathy made out?

You say that you’re no good for me

‘Cause I’m always tugging at your sleeve

And I swear I hate you when you leave

But I like it anyway

You didn´t know that Billy had seen you in the window´s reflection and immediately sprinted after you. He silently swore to himself, then he grabbed his car keys and drove away from the house party, only to find you two streets away. Again, you recognized the car engine and continued walking, while he pulled down his window.

“Need a ride home?”

“No.” It was a lie; your house was in the woods and it would take you at least 45 minutes to get there by foot.

“C´mon Y/n, you could show me where you live?”, he was leaning down so he could watch you from his seat.

“You shouldn´t be driving, you´re drunk, Hargrove.”

“I also shouldn´t let a lady walk home alone, in the dark in the middle of the night.”

“Yeah, you´re right. Somebody could kidnap me!”, you exclaimed, growing annoyed with him.

“For example, in a blue Camaro.” You added and Billy´s grin dropped. He quickly gathered himself again, ready for his next try, but you abruptly stopped walking, lowly growling.

“Leave me the fuck alone, Hargrove!” You screamed furiously, your fists clenching.

The motor stopped, in the background two houses turned on their lights, alarmed by the sudden screaming.

You shook your head, feeling how angry, hot tears started forming in your blurry eyes. You spun back around, not wanting to face Billy anymore longer. Then you quickly walked away, even though it took all your strength not to run.

My ghost, where’d you go?

I can’t find you in the body sleeping next to me

My ghost, where’d you go?

What happened to the soul that you used to be?

***

A week later, you found yourself feeling way better.

On the way home you had smoked almost an entire pack of cigarettes, then you couldn´t fall asleep at three in the morning, had taken a shower, watched the sunrise, finally fell asleep and woke up hungover.

It was time to take care of yourself.

You had almost completely stopped smoking and instead of going to any parties, you went to bed earlier. You had finished an entire book and were on your way to the second. Your house in the woods was right next to a small lake, surrounded by high firs. It was peaceful and quiet, exactly what you needed. You spent most of the time outside, either reading or swimming, while your cat often joined you. Your father wasn´t home as usually.

It had taken a few days to adjust and to forget that awful night that stuck to your memory like a disgusting piece of gum, but now you had almost forgotten about it.

So, while you sunbathed by the lake, you couldn´t anticipate what was happening in the very same time, not too far away from you.

With a loud thud and a following gray smoke escaping the hood of the blue Camaro, the car stopped.

Billy was stuck in the middle of nowhere, there wasn´t even an emergency phone nearby, and he couldn´t make out why the car had stopped. Annoyed he pushed back his locks and light another smoke. It was about then when he realized the gravel path leading into the woods. Maybe he could find a hut or even a house with a phone. He made his way through the forest until he reached a house. It took him by surprise, it wasn´t even a shack; it was an actual house. A good, expensive looking one, made out of light wood with a chimney and large windows.

He rang the bell, but nobody opened, he looked around, the garage was closed; what if nobody was home?

He still decided to take a closer look and walked around the building. The small, turquoise lake surprised him even further, but what surprised him the most, was the girl laying in the grass at the end of a gangplank.

You laid on your back, your cat, Maple, chilling on the dock, watching hopeful into the water for a fish. You wore sunglasses, the book next to you, you hadn´t heard the doorbell. Or Billy approaching.

“I see you do own some nice bathing suit.”

You jerked and sat up to find him staring at you from the small hill, where the house stood.

“Billy? Billy Hargrove?!” He chuckled and further approach, until he was only a few feet away. You suddenly felt a little exposed, you wore your favorite two-piece bathing suit, which actually looked really good, yet you felt uncomfortable.

“What are you doing here?”

“Believe it or not, it´s pure coincidence.”

“Oh really?”, you asked overly sarcastic. Behind your sunglasses he couldn´t see how your eyes twitched.

“My car broke down.”

“What if I don´t believe you?” He crossed his arms.

“Then go take a look on the road.” You sighed; your peaceful day was gone. Finally, you rose and walked to him, but his eyes not once left your face to check you out. You casually patted on his shoulder. “You can use our phone.”

He wanted to follow you into the house, but before Maple ran past him, hissed at him and then followed you as well.

“She doesn´t like strangers”, you added and entered the living room through the back door from the terrace. “Nice house you got.”

“As I said, my dad´s always working.” “So, we´re all alone out here?” You rolled your eyes.

“Phone is in the kitchen.”

While he walked to the large kitchen with marbled details and several plants, you took the stairs to your room and quickly put on a light dress. It wasn´t something you wore to school, let alone the fact that you couldn´t wear a flowy dress on the motorcycle.

When you came back to the kitchen, you could listen how Billy just ended the call.

“Yes, I´m waiting, what else should I do? See you then.” He hung up, seeming angrier than before, but then he looked at you and his face softened again.

“How long will it take?” “They say the earliest they can come is in an hour.” You both let out a sigh, until you walked to the fridge. “Ice tea?”

He nodded and sat down on the stool at the high counter top, watching how you poured two glasses. Your open hair softly swung with your movement and so did your dress. Then you put down the glasses and sat across him. He offered you a small smile.

“You look pretty.”

You raised your brow, taking a sip. “Do I?”

He blushed slightly, quickly glancing down to avoid your eyes.

“Yeah, you always do.”

“Oh my god, did Billy Hargrove just compliment me?”

He laughed, finally facing you again and you smiled as well.

“What about Cathy?” You then added, still grinning but the words visibly stung him, his lips pressed to thin line. “Oh wait, let me guess; it was only good for a night!” His smile had completely vanished and he clenched his jaw, trying not to turn a hair. He knew he would regret it…

“We just made out”, Billy mumbled. “No details? What about your bad boy reputation?” You asked, provokingly whispering to the end.

“What about your reputation? Leaving parties early, then not coming at all anymore?”

“Oh Billy, there´s a significant difference between you and me. You have the womanizer reputation, the guy that beats up the other one because he looked at him the wrong way. I have the image to not give shit about them, there are only a few people that actually matter to me and if somebody hurts them, I give them hell.”

“So, you´re saying I don´t care about anybody.”

“Oh no, you do, you just think it´s weak to show it.”

He bit his lip, his knuckles turning white while holding the glass. You were right, you almost always were.

You’re a Rolling Stone boy, never-sleep-alone boy

Got a million numbers and they’re filling up your phone, boy

I’m off the deep end, sleeping all night through the weekend

Saying that I love him but I know I’m gonna leave him

“You care about your sister, Max”, you added while standing up again.

“I care about you.”

“No you don´t-“ “Yes, I do. I couldn´t sleep after that party, I didn´t know if you had come home, if you were safe… I called Melissa and Craig, even Nancy, but they hadn´t heard from you.”

You stood at the other end of the kitchen; your mouth slightly opened. After seconds had passed, you licked your dry lips, hoping it would help to get some words out.

“Sorry, I didn´t know you were so worried about me. But I had called Craig the other day…”

You watched his jaw clench again. “Yeah, he didn´t really want to talk to me, probably thinks I´m gonna steal you away.”

“Steal me? From who?”

“Oh, you know, Craig”, he eyed your confused expression. “You know he has a thing for you, right?”

It was your turn to avoid the glance. “No, I didn´t.”

“I mean he´s perfect for you, Hawkins best football player, king of the school, there´s nothing more a girl could wish for.”

“I don´t wish for him, I´m sorry to not feel the same way he does.”

After several minutes of silence, you cleared your throat, trying to push away the awkward mood.

“I´m going to wait outside.”

You placed yourself back on the blanket, Maple only a few feet away and always keeping a wary eye on Billy. Billy followed you as well, but remained standing, looking uncomfortable around, unsure what to do. You sighed and closed the book you just had opened again.

“You can sit down if you want to.”

He did as said, and you continued to read, well pretend to read your book.

“What are you reading?”

“Pride and Prejudice”

“Shouldn´t we read that next year in school?” You nodded.

“Yeah, but I had some free time and it´s actually not that bad.”

Billy gave a barely noticeable nod, then silence sat in again.

He was leaning forward, his arms on his knees, his blue eyes facing the lake. You realized how deep, dark circles that were drawn under his eyes; he looked like he hadn´t slept in a good while.

“You look tired.”

Billy turned to look slightly back at you, but then didn´t answer.

“If you want to, you can take a nap, I´ll wake you when they come.”

You glanced back into the book, but eventually he leaned back and lied down. In a matter of minutes he seemed to be asleep and you waited by his side.

My ghost, where’d you go?

I can’t find you in the body sleeping next to me

My ghost, where’d you go?

What happened to the soul that you used to be?

20 minutes, 30, 40, 50…

Time passed and after the stated hour was over, you started to wonder when the breakdown service would arrive.

Billy continued to peacefully sleep, his nose sometimes flinched a little, but in a cute way. He had needed the sleep dearly; he woke up two hours later.

Surprised he sat up, he almost seemed shaken by bad dream.

“How long did I sleep?”

“Two hours, and seven minutes to be exact.”

“What?” He jumped up, ready to run into the next best direction, but stopped when realizing that he didn´t know where to go. Within second he went from peaceful to a disordered mess, which obviously worried you.

“Half an hour ago the breakdown service had called; they can´t make it today.”

The tension immediately left his body and his shoulders sank, but you saw the storm behind his eyes.

“Why didn´t you wake me?” He sounded angry, but you remained calm and looked him straight into the face.

“You seemed like you needed it.” His face softened; he knew you were too good to him.

“You shouldn´t do that.” His words left you confused.

“What? Letting you sleep?”

“No, getting involved with me. People around me tend to get hurt.”

You swallowed, unsure what to say.

“Y/n, I… I´ve been feeling like this for quiet a while now; I really like you. Like a lot.” He mumbled, avoiding your glance while you slowly stood up as well.

“But I know, I´ll break your heart and you don´t deserve a broken heart.” His voice was shaking and you still weren´t able to get one word out of your mouth. His sudden confession came unexpected to you.

“I´m sorry.”

Before you could a chance to speak up, he turned and hurried away. You tried running after him, but Billy was gone. As prompt as he had come, he had disappeared again.

You say that you’re no good for me

‘Cause I’m always tugging at your sleeve

And I swear I hate you when you leave

But I like it anyway

***

“Billy?” Max knocked on her brother’s door, their father wasn´t home at the time. Billy had come home on a Thursday evening, per foot, without the car. His father immediately became angry, asked him where the car was; Billy didn´t answer. After a bloody lip and black eye from him, Billy had gone into his room and since then barely left it. Today was Monday.

Max didn´t like admitting it, but she grew worried about her brother. When she was at Mike´s with Lucas and Dustin, she overheard a phone call from Mike´s older sister Nancy. She apparently had talked to a friend of hers, chatting about a party from a few weeks ago. She had said something about Billy and Y/n, hanging out there, privately in a dark hallway, talking.

First, Max didn´t think of it as much, but then Billy kept acting so weird and after three girls had called to ask Billy to a party, Max slowly became suspicious.

Max didn´t know you well, but liked you. Once a senior guy in school exclaimed that girl can´t skate and you had shoved him into a locker, giving Max a little wink.

“Billy?” Still no answer came, Max leaned against the door. “You know you can talk to me.” She added quietly. “Is this about Y/n?” She asked even quieter. Billy ripped the door abruptly open.

His face first seemed angry, but then he saw the fearful expression on Max´s- he slowly nodded.

I’m searching for something that I can’t reach

The two siblings both sat on the couch, both in silence. They tried to figure out what to say, but didn´t know how to start. They had stopped talking to each other long time ago, it was like they needed to learn it all over again. When Max just opened her mouth, they doorbell rang. She glanced over to Billy, he didn´t make a move to open the door. Sighing to herself she opened it, only to find you standing there. Behind you waited the blue Camaro, the keys in your hand.

“Max, is Billy here?”

Max starred at you perplex and then slowly nodded. “Billy?” He didn´t answer.

“Billy, you might wanna come, Y/n´s here.”

You suddenly heard steps and Billy came to your sight. First, he starred at you, then car.

You realized how he looked more tired than ever, his eyes a little swollen and his left eye had remaining yellow, blueish tints from a black eye.

“Hi”, you said a little high pitched. Max already smirked, finding herself the first one to be shipping you two together.

“I´m gonna give you some privacy.” She explained and left your sight again, disappearing in the house.

“What are you doing here?”

“The breakdown service arrived the next day, I came with them and decided to bring you your baby back.”

His eyes flinched.

“But the bill?”

“I covered it, well technically my father did.”

“I don´t need your pity.”

“It´s called a present.”

“I don´t want it.”

“But how will you take me on a date without a ride?”

He stopped, starring at you wide eyed. You took a deep breath, you had carefully put together the words and now had come the time to say them.

“I thought about what you said and maybe you´re right, maybe you will break my heart. But what if you won´t? What if we, Hawkins famous bad boy and bad girl, worked out?”

He stayed utterly still, you weren´t even sure if he heard the words you had said.

Until he leaned forward, his hands cupping your face and his lips pressing against yours.

First, you were taken back, but then allowed him entrance. Your hands softly grabbed his hair around his neck. When you finally parted again, you were both gasping for air.

“Ok let´s try it, I promise I won´t break your heart.”

“Can´t say the same.”

“I´ll take the risk.”

***

By the end of the summer Billy found himself changed, changed by you.

And when you entered Hawkin High after the break again, hand in hand, both wearing boots and similar jackets, everyone eyed you with envy. And it felt damn good.

He was finally happy in a long time.

My ghost, where’d you go?

I can’t find you in the body sleeping next to me

My ghost, where’d you go?

What happened to the soul that you used to be?

#billy hargrove imagine #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove #dacre montgomery #strangerthings #stranger things imagine #mariamermaidimagine

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takeallyourloveouttame-blog · 5 years ago

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game on.

I wouldn’t call you if I didn’t really need you. I have no one else to fucking call. The words replay in my head again and again. I’m overly tired and rightfully so. I’ve been working overtime trying to infiltrate this criminal group without luck. I could hear Dustin in the background shouting, stomping; anything to make noise and announce to the neighborhood that he was overly pissed. I knew - given Kitt’s broken voice - that it wasn’t going to be a pretty scene. I knew I would be overly pissed too. I also knew that if it was what I thought it was - my plans would be changing soon. My hands find pockets as soon as I exit the subway train and jog my way up the stairs to the brisk welcome of night. Continuous prompts remind me to stay calm and clear of mind. I don’t have enough skin in the game yet to over-emote. My only in at this point is Dustin. Mind flashes to Kitt and her quivering voice. Eyes darken as I press the damn-near broken buzzer for their apartment and hear the obnoxious gargle signaling the door is open. Pulling the door wide, I stride the stairs rapidly and don’t care to knock on the door belonging to the siblings’ shared apartment. As I enter, Dustin gets in my face, wild-eyed and face-flushed. “He beat her real fuckin’ good, man. I’m gonna kill him. I don’t care what happens to me.” Fingertips press against his chest. I can feel the heat rising off of him and can smell his bravado. I don’t doubt that he’s willing to kill for his sister, but I do know that I need him to do the opposite and remain my main point of contact to this syndicate. I also recognize that I’m not ready to see what awaits. “If you want your sister to bury your sorry ass, go put a few plugs in someone. You’re not thinking straight. Probably can’t even aim a gun right now. Where is she?” My eyes waiver toward the bathroom door. The light fixture buzzes audible through the cracked door, but isn’t loud enough to drown out the pained croons and hitched breath. “Dustin. Sit down, stay there.” Approaching the door with measured steps, I lightly rap my knuckles to the back of the unevenly stained surface so it doesn’t nudge open further without invitation. “It’s me. I’m coming in.” The door creaks as I slowly push it open - and I immediately see the same blinding red that fills Dustin’s gaze. My heart begins to drum rapidly in the barrel between my ribs and I kneel in front of her, taking in a visual assessment of the damage, thumbs pushing back hair from her face. “Please tell me there’s a corpse somewhere,” I whisper hotly through a seething clench of my teeth. “I just want to fucking shower and sleep and I can’t get my own shirt over my goddamn head without almost passing out from the pain.” “No corpse then?” I quirk a brow, and watch tears brim her eyes but refuse to fall. My jaw tenses again and I nod in understanding, straightening up to assess the shower and then her state. “This’s gonna hurt.” She nods and I bend and scoop arms around her, straightening her up and trying to ignore her throated cries. “How much do you like this?” I ask, giving a small indicating tug to the hem of her tank top. “I doubt the blood will come out. Just get it off of me,” she says and I notice the hitch in her breathing; the pain in her eyes. It doesn’t matter if she likes it in that moment. “Scissors,” I say and turn toward the medicine cabinet, opening it wide to ruffle through without a car, pushing past menstrual medications, tylenol, unmarked bottles, and tampons. “Dustin, bring me scissors,” I holler and hear him immediately shuffle around. His hand appears with a pair of shears in the crack of the door and I grab them, then close the door entirely. “Turn around,” I offer in a firm, yet gentle tone. I fight to hide my anger, but know I will get my ultimate revenge. With her back toward me, I pluck the material away from her skin and skim the scissors along the rails of her spine, slicing until the tank top splits. My hands carefully guide the material over her shoulders and down her arms, trying to be the least intrusive for her battered body. Dark, deep bruises paint her skin. Especially along her ribs. “I’m gonna undo your bra,” I say with a bit of hesitation, fingers gently clasping fabric on either side of the hook and loop. I want further consent and feel my heart ripping through my ears, but I know she’s been through trauma and don’t want her to have to console me to be able to fulfill a request that was hard for her to make to begin with. I pull the fabric apart just enough to loosen the hook from its notch and keep a grip on both ends to keep it from snapping against her burdened body, guiding the fabric down her shoulders and arms until it falls to the bathroom floor. I stay behind her and make the transition to her pants, arms reaching around to her front when I feel her hands on my forearms. “I can do my pants, you perv.” Our smiles are audible, though hers extinguishes with a pained exhale and I take a step back and swing my body to avert my eyes. Staring down a lone scar in the wall, I listen to the pain in her breathing and refusal of tears and I force myself to remember them - for later. For the right time. “Ready,” she tells me and I turn toward her, eyes dipping for a brief second over her naked form before stepping toward the shower. I dip in and turn the dials, gliding my fingers through the stream until it warms to a comfortable level. “Ready when you are,” I say, securing my eyes to hers. Her movements are slow and measured. I can tell she’s trying to cause herself the least amount of pain with each step. Her knees near the ceramic edge of the tub and I find my natural frown settling a bit deeper. “This is going to be really fuckin’ rough. Take it at your own speed and lean on me as much as you need. I won’t let ya fall.” She seethes, her lips vibrating as she lifts her leg and steps over the tub’s side, her other leg quick to follow. I can tell she wants to bleat out but she bites it back. Kitt is tough as nails and I wouldn’t expect anything less. I close the shower curtain around her and wait before I hear the familiar exhale again. My head pops through the water barrier and I see her attempting to reach for her shampoo. “Easy,” I warn, already shrugging from my jacket. Quickly kicking off my shoes and tugging off my socks, I enter the stream still in my white t-shirt and jeans, realizing I need to ditch my phone and wallet rapidly too. Outstretching my hand and securing the shampoo bottle, I squeeze a growing amount into my palm before she gives me a silent nod. She turns her back toward me and I feel relief. “Smells like a unicorn’s asshole,” I note and spread the goo between my hands before dragging my fingers through her hair gently. I remember the gash near her hairline and try to keep the suds away from it. Brush strokes of red slip down the drain. “What else do you need?” I ask, my clothes now clinging heavily to me. “This yours?” I grab a loofah and note Dustin’s obvious bar of soap - greasy hairs attached to it like a magnet. A bottle of cheap soap with a colorful label with some kind of cheesy vanilla graphic catches my eye and I hold it in front of her for verification. Stringing soap along the loofah surface, I rub it in and she turns her head. Our gazes linger and she slowly takes possession. My gaze turns and I linger in the back of the tub, listening to more hisses and grunts until she’s had enough, dried and fresh blood pooling through the running stream. “I’m done,” she says and refuses to sound defeated. Leaning forward, I flick off the water and step out, water puddling at my feet as I reach for a towel she directs me to. I wring pools of excess water from my shirt into the tub, the fabric hanging loose at my waist then take another towel and attempt to pat myself down. “Can you-” she starts and I interject. “The whole reason I’m here’s so Dustin doesn’t see his sister naked, right?” I help wrap herself with the towel and open the bathroom door. Dustin sits up, suddenly alert, though he’s poured himself at least half a bottle of whiskey just during the wait. “Your sister’s a badass,” I assure him. “You alright Kitt?” He’s clearly distraught, angered, and overly protective, but he's also eyeing me and my soggy, sloshing clothes. She nods, mostly because nothing about this is alright. She helps pick out items from her closet and I ask, “did you lose consciousness at all?” “I don’t even fuckin’ know.” I help slip the flannel on one arm at a time and secure the buttons, eyes on hers other than to navigate which button I’m on. “Just go fuckin’ commando and cut me a break here,” I relent and she nods as if it isn’t a big deal. When I bend over to secure the leggings over one leg, I struggle and she bobs for balance. “Use me,” I urge and feel her palms on my back as I struggle to roll the leggings up. “I don’t know how the hell you wear these.” Sweat threatens my brow line when I finish, straightening up my stiff spine with a grunt. “Bed,” I tell her. “Dustin, get in here!” Within seconds, Dustin jogs into her bedroom. We help her into bed and I instruct Dustin to lay off the fucking booze and whatever else. I warn Kitt to stay awake no matter how bad she wants to sleep through the night in case she’s concussed. I tell them I’m going to leave, but I stay perched on the top step in the hallway just outside of their door for hours. Dark eyes lost in a longing gaze, trapped inside my head as I plot my next move. Before I finally leave, I replay the words in my head. The words I made her tell me before we left that bathroom. “Who did this to you?” “Like you don’t know.” “I need you to say it, Kitt.” Confusion riddling her eyes - then emotion. She blinks, skews her jaw, and says the magical words: “Fuckin’ Ace.”

Fuckin’ Ace. Game on.

#drabble #vaughn x kitt #vaughn x dustin

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insomniiyac · 7 years ago

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Finished my third (and hopefully last) BNHA baby, Anthony~. I tried to copy the whole ref thing and failed horribly. 10/10 will never do again ;__;

Sorry for the low quality, I had to use freaking Google Slides for the text ;__;

She’s totally open for friends and such, so reblog if you’re interested

██████ G E N E R A L // I N F O

“If it wasn’t illegal, I’d have my birthday suit as my hero suit.”

name : Anthony DeLosReyes (

アンソニー・デロスレイズ)

nickname(s) : “Aunt Anthony”, “The Secret Weapon” (Neito) hero name : Inka age// birthday : 18 ll February 28th gender : female height // weight : 5'7 [172.72 cm] // 168lbs blood type : undetermined

nationality: Venezuelan-American

class : 1-B (temporarily) / 3-A

██████ B A T T L E // I N F O

quirk type : Blood Ink

quirk description : Anthony’s quirk is a mutation of the illness hematidrosis. Hematidrosis, also referred to as blood sweat, is a rare condition in which a human being sweats blood. It is very rare, so it is not very understood. However, the blood sweat generally happens in times of fear and stress. With her quirk, it is the combination of her father’s excess blood quirk and her mother’s ink manipulation quirk. Her blood is a combination of red blood cells and specialized ink cells that she can control at will by drawing it out of her pores and manipulating it.

ability1: (Ink Typhoon)- Anthony wields her ink blood as a huge wave, drowning those in it. Can cause anemia.

ability2: (Bullet Bonanza)- Combining her ink blood with keratin, she hardens it and shoot at her opponents. Very painful with strong chances of tearing of the skin.

ability3: (Ink Poisoning)- Blood Ink gets released as toxic gas, poisoning those in the area (up to 25 sq feet). Only available under times of intense stress when skin is heated enough. ability4: (Magenta Magic)- She can harden her blood and wield them as weapons such as gauntlets and bats. quirk drawbacks : This is a very unstable and dangerous quirk for its user, so if Anthony isn’t careful she may end up hospitalized from severe anemia. To use this quirk effectively, she has to keep a healthy workout regime and food palette with lots of nutrients as well as staying within a certain weight class. Stats: power: [4/5] B speed [2/5] D technique[3/5] C intelligence [5/5] A cooperativeness[5/5] A

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personality : Anthony, as described by most, is a very relaxed individual. There isn’t much that she’s particularly fazed by and often keeps up an air of optimism wherever she goes. She is also very hardworking and persistent in her goals. Despite growing up with a “literal IV needle in her arm” as she would describe it, it never stopped her from traveling overseas to become a hero.

likes : >>Spicy food. Everything needs spice- even lollipops. She refuses to eat one if it isn’t covered in chili flakes. >>Hair cuts. She prefers her hair short and loves the look of a fresh cut from time to time. >>Lighters. She doesn’t smoke or anything, but she is an avid collector of antique lighters. >>Music. Any in general, really. She has no real preference. Being naked. She’s very confident in her skin and wishes the world was the same way.

dislikes : >>Injustice. Only a villain would like that. >>Lazy, entitled people. She’s had to work hard to get to where she was today and she expects others to put in that same energy. >>…That’s about it, really. She’s fairly open-minded to things.

history : Anthony grew up as an only child to a biker father and a tattoo artist mother in New Mexico, America. Her quirk manifested at the very early age of two which made it very uncontrollable for those around her. She was often dehydrated and sick, often waking up to the horror of being in a pool of her own blood. She had to walk around with an IV needle in her at all times to keep her from passing out and was home schooled up until junior high where they felt she could control her quirk a little better. There, she was able to meet friends and develop the social life she never had growing up. She often hid her quirk and pretended to be quirkless for a while as to not freak anyone out for sweating literal ink blood. However, she drew inspiration from her favorite Japanese hero, Vlad King, whose blood manipulation quirk was similar to hers. Studying her favorite hero closely- she attempted time and time again to manipulate her quirk, mostly with damning results. She’d stay out in the school gym for longer nights as she trained herself to become a hero just like her idol. When she hit eighth grade, a huge opportunity had rise for her. Her school (which was a middle to high school) had recently developed the Hero Acceleration Program (or HAP). The HAP is an international program created for other schools to learn and replicate the same practices and experiences that are offered at Yuuei. A select amount of students are handpicked all over the world to be sent to Yuuei for free through this program and report their experiences back to their home countries. The requirements are that they are to have at least 200 hours of volunteer work, fluent in Japanese speech and writing, a GPA of 3.75, and have at least passed two AP Hero Courses with an A. They tend to pick out those from freshman to sophomore year and is automatically set up with an internship of their choice. Sacrificing the perks of high school life and social interaction, she dedicated herself to meet these requirements; studying kanji and spoken formal and informal Japanese, constantly doing volunteer work after school and on weekends, and loads of studying as well as physically training her body to its limits. She was able to fulfill all of the requirements by sophomore year, though there was one problem… her parents. They didn’t trust her to go overseas without them due to fear of her quirk taking over and killing her and them not being able to do anything about it so they held her back for another two years. Anthony trained harder, hard enough to prove to her parents that she can control it and that she was responsible enough to live out there on her own. She refined her Japanese, learned her social norms, and also lived her social life she never had the ability to years ago. They finally relented and flew her out to Japan where she attends Yuuei. There she met her childhood hero and got so emotional from the fact that he had accepted her to mentor. They set her back as an extra in 1-B so she can get used to how things worked in there for a semester. She wasn’t able to participate in the Sports Festival or the School Field Trip due to her HAP status in the school, but she participates in the training exercises and regular class time. During the duration of her time in 1-B, she took on the nickname “Aunt Anthony” due to her laid-back attitude and her tendency to play a secondary mentor to the others. Recently, due to her level of intelligence and quirk control, she was placed up to 3-A.

██████ R E L A T I O N S H I P S// I N F O

Sekijiro Kan

: Her biggest idol growing up as well as her mentor. They have a very father-daughter relationship that her actual father gets jealous of- but can’t really blame him. Kan often looks out for Anthony despite her class change and will do random checks with the teacher to make sure she doesn’t get too comfortable. The fact that she even interns under him is still surreal to her.

Pony Tsunotori

: She took a huge liking to Pony Tsunotori who shared her nationality as foreigners from America. They frequently speak to each other in English, Anthony teaching her a bit of Japanese to hopefully combat Neito’s influence on the poor girl.

Neito Monoma

: Neito’s crush is pretty one-sided, though he mostly shows it through passive-aggressively making jabs at her and other genuine mischief. He’s secretly happy that 1-B has a very capable student in their class that can probably rival majority of 1-A despite it all. Anthony knows this and continuously plays along in entertaining his crush, possibly even developing one for the sap.

██████ T R I V I A L // I N F O

“Aw babes, don’t make that face. I’ll always be your Aunt Anthony, no matter what~!”

Family: DeLosReyes, Gael (41) - Alive Quirk Type Blood Overgeneration DeLosReyes, Ximena (38) - Alive Quirk Type Ink Manipulation

Friends: Pony Tsunotori, Itsuka Kendo, Neito Monoma, Ibara Shiozaki, (all of Class 1-B really, lol), Izuku Midoriya, Kirishima Ejirou

hobbies :

drawing intricate patterns and artwork.

fun facts + headcanons:

1) Anthony is actually fluent in three languages: English, Spanish, and Japanese.

2) She managed to sucker her mom into tattooing her body as a parting gift before she left to Japan.

3) She was originally supposed to be shipped with Tetsutetsu (in which I have a fic that I may or may not post >u>)

4) She’s a nudist which is mainly why her costume shows so much skin. She uses overheating mainly as an excuse.

#bnha #bnha oc #boku no hero oc #mha oc #my hero academy oc #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #character design #digital art #anime art #my art #💉 oc tag: Anthony

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