#billy fanfiction

[cherryssodapop]

Billy Hargrove One Shot: Your Heartbeat Next to Mine

JA PIERDOLEEEE THIS TOOK FOREVER TO WRITE

angst, angst and ANGSTTTT!!!! sO mUCh TENSION oml ishbdvihbf I promise there's a happy ending. LORD this story was a ride.

female!reader

synopsis: Billy loves you but he doesn't know how to deal with it. His insecurities get the best of him and he abandons you. It's okay though cause you guys work through it. You're a feisty bitch though, you don't let him get away with his behaviour... not entirely at least.

your revenge fit at the party

I got a little carried away...hhahhha okhopeyouenjoy-

-

There was something unspoken between you and Billy Hargrove, a tension that seemed to hum in the air whenever you were near him. On the surface, you could call yourselves friends, but even that label felt too simple for whatever this was. The truth was, your connection with Billy defied explanation. Friends don’t make your heart race with a single glance, don’t leave you second-guessing your reflection or whether the shirt you chose might catch their attention. Friends don’t make you obsess over every tiny detail—or purposely choose to test their reaction with a little extra effort.

It was only Billy. Only he could make you so hyperaware of yourself, set your pulse pounding just by standing a little too close. Only he could make you laugh until you couldn’t breathe, sharing moments so raw and real they felt like they belonged to another world. With Billy, you felt safe—your heart felt safe. He was the keeper of your secrets, and you were his. Whatever this was between you, it wasn’t just friendship. It was something deeper, something you couldn’t name but could never ignore.

In turn, Billy made sure you noticed him, even if he wouldn’t admit it. He’d wear just enough cologne that its scent lingered in the air when he walked by, flash his brightest smile, his teeth so white they practically gleamed, or feel his pulse spike when your hands accidentally brushed helping you with a book on the library’s top shelf. Naturally, he insisted on grabbing it for you, throwing in a cocky, "Your short ass couldn’t reach far enough," as if his heart wasn’t racing from the simple touch.

It was unnerving. Billy was never uncertain around girls. He always knew exactly what to say, how to say it, and the tone of voice to use to get his way. It was second nature, and it worked like a charm every single time. But with you? God, for the first time in his life, his brain stalled. His mouth would hang open, and he couldn’t string two coherent words together. It terrified him. And when Billy was uncomfortable, when emotions clawed too close to the surface—he did what he always did: avoid.

Avoid, deflect, evade. Put on the mask, walk away. Find a distraction, wait for the feelings to fade. It had always worked. No one got too close, and he didn’t get hurt. Relationships, real connections—those always crumbled before they began because Billy kept everyone at arm’s length. He told himself it was better that way. He’d been alone his entire life, so why should now be any different?

But then there was you. The second he realized he couldn’t stop thinking about you, it unraveled him. What was it about you? Why did you make him feel so exposed? Why did you leave him fumbling, questioning himself, wanting more in a way that scared him half to death? Billy didn’t have the answers, and it drove him mad. You weren’t like anyone else, and that infuriated and captivated him all at once.

The way you were so genuine with him—so kind—it threw Billy off balance. He could tell there was no hidden agenda behind your kindness; it was just who you were. The way you looked at him with those big, curious eyes had a way of softening something inside him that he didn’t even know was there. And you weren’t just kind—you were strong. Fearless, even. You didn’t hesitate to call him out on his bullshit, no matter how bruised his ego got. You’d lay it all out for him, and though he might roll his eyes in the moment, he appreciated it more than he’d ever admit. Someone had to keep him in check, after all.

You were stubborn, too—a little firecracker who wouldn’t listen to him even if your life depended on it. It made him laugh more often than it frustrated him because, inevitably, you’d figure things out for yourself and come back with that guilty look in your eyes. And every time, without fail, he’d hit you with an "I told you so." That was the rhythm of your friendship: equal parts looking out for each other and creating chaos together. It was a kind of energy Billy hadn’t felt since he left California—a carefree, reckless joy that made him feel like a kid again.

Your bold, unapologetic spirit ignited something in him. You were so unapologetically you, and Billy couldn’t help but admire it. He loved that about you. Loved you. Though he wasn’t sure when it started, or how it happened, he knew one thing for sure: you had a way of making him feel alive in a way no one else ever had.

The moment Billy admitted it to himself—that he loved you—he panicked. Abort. Abort immediately. There was no way this was happening. He couldn’t possibly have feelings for someone, let alone the one real friend he’d managed to make in this godforsaken town. He wasn’t about to ruin that by making things weird. And yet, he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

You were beautiful—too beautiful, really. The kind of beautiful that made his chest ache. He’d seen plenty of pretty girls, but none of them compared to you. From the way your eyes lit up when you were excited, to how your hair framed your face, down to the dimples that appeared when your smile stretched just a little too wide. He was a goner, and he hated it. But the heart wants what it wants, and it doesn’t ask for permission.

Reality, of course, had other plans. He knew you were aware of his reputation. How could you not be? He’d been pretty shameless about it, after all. And because of that, he also knew he’d never be enough for you. Not in a million years. Not him—Billy Hargrove, the town’s walking disappointment, his dad’s words forever burned into his mind. He couldn’t give you what you deserved.

But damn, did he wish he could. He wished he could hold you, tuck you close to his chest, and tell you how your eyes sparkled in the sunlight. That you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He clung to that fantasy because it was all he’d ever have.

And that’s why, the day he realized his feelings, he made a decision. He pulled back. Removed himself from your presence. It was easier this way. For you. For him. At least, that’s what he told himself as he let you slip further and further away.

Billy disappeared from your life like a shadow at sunrise, pulling back completely. He began treating you the way he treated the girls he’d hooked up with and discarded, as if you didn’t exist. No glances, no words, not even the faintest nod of acknowledgment. One day, it was as if you were everything, and the next, you were nothing.

You didn’t know why. You tried calling him, catching him between classes, approaching him in the halls, but every time, he brushed past you like you were invisible. It was maddening. You replayed every interaction in your head, trying to pinpoint the moment things went wrong. What had you done to push him away so completely? You hated conflict, especially with him. He was the one person you cared about the most, and now he was gone without a word.

You even worked up the nerve to confront him at his house. Each time, though, Max answered the door with the same confused look and a string of familiar lines.

"He doesn’t want to see you." "I don’t know why either." "He’s been brooding in his room for days." "Yeah, like hell he’ll tell me." "He’s been a bigger dick than usual lately." "Did you guys get into a fight?"

Every time, you’d shake your head and apologize for intruding, only to leave with a heavier heart. It was like trying to climb a wall that only grew higher the harder you tried. His defenses were back up, stronger than ever, shutting you out completely. But why? What had you done to deserve this?

Weeks passed, and the weight of his silence became unbearable. You’d chased answers, dissected every memory, and tried to piece together a puzzle with missing pieces. But you were tired. Whether it was something you did or something he was dealing with, it didn’t matter anymore. The message was clear: Billy had made his choice.

If he’d moved on, maybe it was time you did, too.

-

The full moon hung high, its silver light spilling over Hawkins and casting an ethereal glow on the summer night. You couldn’t remember if it was Tina or Carol who threw the party, but it didn’t matter. The music was loud, the liquor warm in your veins, and for once, all the thoughts that usually clouded your mind were blissfully absent. You were having fun—finally letting loose.

At least, you were until your eyes wandered to the crowded dance floor. And there he was. Billy.

Your stomach dropped like a stone. He was the last person you wanted to see tonight, especially now. He was right in the middle of the floor, tangled up with some girl—Vicky or Cindy or Becky, you didn’t care enough to know her name. Grinding, touching, doing all the things he’d been doing with whoever caught his attention these past few weeks since he’d cut you off. A cigarette hung from his lips, and his cheeks were flushed, a telltale sign of the alcohol coursing through him.

It pissed you off. It really pissed you off. But you had to play it cool. It wasn’t like that between you two. It never was, and as Billy had made abundantly clear, it never would be.

Still, just as you were about to look away, his eyes found yours. Your breath caught, and for a moment, it was as if the world around you stilled. His movements came to an abrupt halt, the cigarette slipping from his lips and landing with a hiss against the girl’s skin—what was her name? Fanny? Mandy? She yelped, storming off in a fit, but Billy didn’t even register her.

Instead, his gaze stayed locked on you. His expression was unreadable, his eyes burning with something you couldn’t quite name. And even though every rational part of you screamed to turn away, to break the connection, you couldn’t. Not yet.

Billy looked at you like he wanted to devour you, and honestly, who could blame him? You looked absolutely stunning. The cheetah-print dress hugged every curve of your body just right, showing off your long, toned legs. Your black leather jacket, adorned with studs, added a rebellious edge that was so quintessentially you. You looked like the kind of rock star MTV would kill to feature, exuding confidence and effortless cool.

The black platform boots you wore gave you a few extra inches, adding to your commanding presence, while your makeup accentuated your features to perfection. Your hair, styled in a flawless blowout, framed your face like a masterpiece. Tonight, you were more than just beautiful—you were a living, breathing work of art.

And Billy wasn’t the only one who noticed. Guys had been sneaking glances at you all night, their eyes lingering a little too long. One of them, in particular, caught your attention—and Billy’s. Steve Harrington. The tension between them was practically palpable, and the way Steve’s gaze lingered on you only seemed to make Billy’s grip on his composure slip further.

Your eyes flicked to Steve, who was off to the side dancing, then back to Billy. Back and forth, your gaze darted between the two, until a mischievous grin crept across your face—the kind of grin you wore when you were about to cause trouble. Billy’s jaw tensed, his blue eyes narrowing as if silently begging you, Don’t you dare.

But his expression only fueled your resolve. With zero hesitation, you slipped through the throng of partygoers, weaving your way toward Steve. He turned as you approached, his signature smile already in place. Before he could say a word, you grabbed his hand, a playful spark in your eyes, and tugged him along behind you.

You led him straight back to where you’d been standing, making sure Billy had the perfect view. If he could play his games, so could you. If he thought he could act like you didn’t matter, well, it was time for him to get a taste of his own medicine. Let him watch. Let him feel it. Because tonight, you weren’t playing by his rules anymore.

“Y/n! You look amazing! Having a good time tonight?” Steve called out over the thumping bass, his grin as easy as ever.

You returned the smile, but there was a hint of something sharper in it—something you’d picked up from Billy. The kind of smile he wore when he wanted to make someone squirm. You didn’t have to look to know he was watching; you could feel the heat of his stare from across the room. Billy Hargrove wasn’t subtle, not when it came to you.

But tonight wasn’t about subtlety. He needed to feel the same ache clawing at you, the same frustration. Otherwise, the knot in your chest wouldn’t unravel.

“Sure am,” you said, stepping closer to Steve, your voice dropping just enough to make it linger. “Looking pretty good yourself, Harrington. Mind if I take a closer look?”

Your hands slid around his neck as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The music shifted, Samantha Fox’s "Touch Me" pumping through the speakers like a soundtrack crafted for your little game.

Steve didn’t hesitate, his hands finding your waist as your hips swayed in time with the beat. The air thickened around you, the crowd blurring into the background. You knew Billy was watching every second, and that’s exactly what you wanted.

You and Steve were close. Too close. Uncomfortably close for Billy’s liking. His jaw tightened, fists flexing at his sides as he watched from across the room. The sight of you with your arms around Harrington made his blood boil.

His left foot twitched forward, instinct begging him to storm over and put an end to whatever game you were playing. But he stopped himself, freezing mid-step. He couldn’t make a scene—not here, not now, not with so many eyes watching. Instead, he stayed rooted in place, his icy blue gaze locked on you.

Alright, pretty girl. You wanted to play the long game? Fine. Billy could play it, too. Patience wasn’t his strong suit, but when the moment called for it, he could summon enough to keep his cool.

You were a brat sometimes, no doubt about it. It infuriated him, sure, but it also thrilled him in ways he didn’t like to admit. He lived for the challenge of putting you in your place, and tonight? Tonight, you were practically begging for it.

Billy smirked, leaning back against the wall with feigned ease. His time would come. And when it did, he’d make sure you remembered exactly who you were dealing with.

As you danced with Steve, your eyes darted to Billy. His gaze was sharp as a blade, cutting through the crowd to you and your intoxicated partner. The intensity in his stare sent a thrill through you—your plan was working.

Deciding to push things further, you tilted Steve’s head back, giving yourself better access to his neck. His hands roamed boldly, brushing over your lower back and grazing your ass. You ignored it, too focused on the next move. Your lips found his neck, and you began sucking, leaving a mark that would be impossible to miss. Steve let out a low hum, his eyes fluttering shut as you worked the patch of skin into a deep purple bruise.

When you were satisfied, Steve leaned in for your lips, but you teasingly caught his lower lip between your teeth, tugging just enough to leave him wanting more. The song ended, the crowd's energy fading as the music shifted to something slower.

Breathless, you locked eyes with Steve, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. But when you glanced back to where Billy had been standing, he was gone.

A flicker of worry danced in your chest. Was he off doing something reckless, or had your plan fallen flat? Either way, you kept your composure, releasing Steve with a parting wink.

“That was fun,” you said, flashing a coy smile. “Catch you later.”

As you walked off, weaving through the crowd, you headed toward the hallway to freshen up. The muffled music faded behind you as you found yourself surrounded by doors, each leading who knew where.

The bathroom had to be close, you thought, glancing at the nondescript doorframes. Before you could decide which to try, a door to your right swung open, and a strong hand grabbed your arm. You barely had time to react before you were yanked inside, the door slamming shut behind you.

Billy.

His grip on your arm was firm, his chest heaving slightly as he leaned in, one hand pinning the door behind you. His intense, angry eyes bored into yours, and the heat of his fury practically crackled in the air.

Your heart raced, but not from fear. His jealousy, the sheer possessiveness in his gaze—it sent a rush through you.

The room was small, a bathroom with a sink to your left and a shower tucked behind it. The dim light from the mirror reflected off Billy’s sharp features, highlighting the tension in his jaw.

It was safe to say your plan had worked. He was pissed. Jealous. And if you were being honest, it thrilled you more than it should have.

“You think you’re real cute pulling that little stunt back there, huh?” Billy’s voice was low, trembling with barely restrained emotion. He tried to sound angry, but his vulnerability bled through. Seeing you with someone else shouldn’t bother him—you weren’t his anymore. Hell, you were never his to begin with. But it hit a nerve he couldn’t ignore.

“Wow, Hargrove. Can’t handle me playing your game—and doing it better too?” you snapped, venom lacing your voice. It was the first time you’d spoken in months, and you weren’t about to hold back. Why should you spare his feelings when he’d done nothing but trample yours?

He released your arm, stepping back, visibly startled by the way you used his last name. “I didn’t realize we were on a last-name basis, Y/L/N.”

“I didn’t realize we were on any basis at all,” you shot back, your voice sharp and unforgiving.

“Three months, Billy. Three fucking months you don't talk to me. You just cut me off, treating me like I’m nothing, like everything we went through together, all the memories we made, meant absolute jack shit to you. And on top of that, you made me feel like I was the one who messed up! Like I did something wrong, and I wasn’t even given the chance to understand, let alone fix it! And now, here you are, locking me in a room and acting like some jealous boyfriend of mine because I was dancing with Steve Harrington!?”

“You did a whole lot more than dance with him,” he snarled, the jealousy in his tone unmistakable.

“Oh, and like you were doing anything less with what’s-her-face—Candy?” Tears blurred your vision as you spat the words. Couldn’t he see? Couldn’t he understand how heartbroken you were? That Steve was just a distraction, not the reason for your pain?

“That’s not her name,” he muttered, his voice softening. He quickly realized that his whole plan to get back at you for earlier was falling apart—of course it was, because there was one huge issue between you two: Billy had cut you off without explanation, and you weren’t going to just let that go.

“Oh, so you even remember her name? Great. Well, why don’t you go cry on her shoulder, then?” You turned to leave, reaching for the door, but Billy slammed it shut and spun you back to face him.

“Y/n, you don’t understand. It’s not like that!” he exclaimed, desperation clear in his voice.

Your eyes narrowed, your tear-streaked face a mixture of anger and disbelief. “Are you serious right now?” you thought to yourself. Your voice was trembling as you tried to steady your breathing.

“Well, since you’re not letting me out of this bathroom anytime soon,” you said, “why don’t you go ahead and explain? I’m all ears.” You hoisted yourself onto the sink counter, crossing your arms and legs, daring him to speak.

Billy stood frozen, his head lowered like a guilty child caught red-handed. His hands fidgeted at his sides, and he avoided your gaze. Only you could unravel him like this, turn the usually unshakable Billy into a nervous wreck.

“Well?” you pressed, your patience wearing thin. “Say something!”

“I didn’t expect to see you tonight,” he finally admitted, his voice quiet. “Especially looking so… well, so you.” His gaze flicked over you, lingering just a moment too long. Even in the middle of this heated exchange, he couldn’t help but think you looked stunning.

You rolled your eyes at the attempted compliment, though a small part of you, deep down, appreciated it. “Don’t think flattery is going to get you out of this.”

“I know it won’t,” he said quickly, cutting you off. “Just… listen, okay? I know I screwed up. Big time. But I—well, you—”

“What? I what, Billy? Why did you leave me?” you demanded, your voice breaking.

“Because I love you!” The words burst out of him before he could stop them.

The room fell silent. You stared at him, stunned, your heart pounding in your chest. Did he really just say that?

“…There, I said it. I love you, I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you this whole time,” he continued, his voice shaking now. “And I know we were just friends, and I’ll admit it, that friendship meant the world to me. But…”

“So instead of talking to me,” you said, stepping off the counter and closing the distance between you, “you just disappeared. You love me, but you choose to fuck around with other women?”

“Because that’s all I’m good for, right?” Billy’s voice cracked, his frustration giving way to despair. “That’s all I’ve ever been good for. You know me, Y/n. You know how I am. I figured… I figured I’d ruin everything if I told you. And I thought… I thought you didn’t feel the same.”

It was heartbreaking to hear, but the weight of his words didn’t surprise you. Billy’s bravado, his sharp tongue, and his cocky smirk—they were all carefully constructed armor, shielding the deep scars his father had left behind. You knew enough about Neil Hargrove to understand that Billy had spent years being told he wasn’t good enough, couldn’t do anything right, would never amount to anything. The man’s words and fists had conditioned Billy to believe he didn’t deserve good things, that his role in life was to destroy or be destroyed.

This wasn’t just about you. It was about years of internalized shame and self-doubt, ingrained in him by a father who had never let him feel worthy of love. To Billy, losing you wasn’t just a fear—it was a foregone conclusion, another thing to fail at, another thing to ruin. So he’d done what he thought was inevitable: he pushed you away before you could leave him first.

You felt your heart ache for him. For the boy who had tried so hard to outrun the shadow of his father’s voice, only to let it guide his every move. And now, standing in front of you, his walls crumbling, he wasn’t the cocky, confident Billy Hargrove the world saw. He was just a boy desperate to be loved but terrified he didn’t deserve it.

Tears filled your eyes again as you cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing against his skin. He leaned into your touch, exhaling shakily, like he’d been holding his breath for months.

“Oh, Billy,” you whispered, your heart softened at his words. All the anger melted away as you pieced it together.. “You ran away because you thought I couldn’t love you back?”

He nodded, too ashamed to meet your eyes. “I know. It’s stupid—”

“You’re not stupid,” you interrupted, your tone firm but kind. Wiping a tear from his cheek. “But you’re a damned fool, Billy Hargrove. And you couldn’t be more wrong.”

His eyes snapped up to meet yours, hope flickering in their depths.

“What are you—”

"I'm saying I love you too, idiot," you manage to say through your tears, a smile breaking through as Billy mirrors your expression. The two of you let out a small, breathless laugh, the absurdity of the moment sinking in. One simple conversation could have avoided all of this—weeks, maybe months, of tension and missteps. But then again, nothing about the way you two loved each other had ever been simple.

"This whole time?" he asked softly, his voice carrying the weight of regret and longing.

You nodded, your heart swelling and breaking all at once. He wiped his tears with the back of his hand, then pulled you into a hug so tight you could feel the unspoken ache in him. This was what he had wanted, what he had dreamed of, and yet he couldn’t help but wish it had come under different circumstances.

When he pulled back, his hands stayed on your shoulders as he searched your eyes, now lit with a fragile hope. His fingers traced the line of your chin as he leaned in, his lips hovering close to yours. But just before he closed the distance, your hand pressed firmly against his chest, stopping him.

"But it doesn’t change the fact that you broke my heart and put me through hell..." you said quietly, your words cutting through the fragile moment. The light in his eyes faltered, dimming into something more pained and uncertain. Of course, it wasn’t going to be easy—nothing with you two ever was. He stepped back slightly, his hands falling away.

"I know," he said, his voice raw. "And you have no idea how sorry I am, sweetheart. I pushed you away. I messed it all up. And in the process, I lost you."

You nodded, the weight of his admission heavy between you. A part of you wanted to forgive him immediately. You wanted to let the warmth of his arms and the tenderness in his eyes convince you that it would all be okay. But fear lingered—fear of being hurt again, of rebuilding something so fragile.

"You did lose me," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"I did," he said, his tone unwavering. Then his eyes lifted to meet yours, filled with a quiet determination. "Losing you meant losing everything. But you know what? That just means I’ve got nothing left to lose now."

Before you could process his words, his lips crashed into yours, desperate and unyielding. It wasn’t careful or perfect—it was messy, raw, and filled with everything he’d been holding back. And for once, you didn’t stop him.

Your arms wrapped around him, tight and possessive, like a cobra coiling around its prey. Pulling him closer as your lips met in a searing kiss. It was urgent, almost frantic, like neither of you could get enough of each other. His hands found your waist, pulling you in tighter, as if he wanted to lose himself in the feeling of you against him. Your heart raced, a mix of desire and something deeper, something tangled with the emotions you couldn't quite untangle yet.

The kiss deepened, his lips moving against yours in perfect sync, as if you had done this a thousand times. His tongue traced the line of your lips, asking for permission that you gladly gave, and soon you both were lost in the heat of it. You could feel his breath coming faster, his body pressing into yours, and you responded just as eagerly, matching his pace. The kiss was messy, desperate, a blend of passion and pent-up frustration, the kind that had been building between you for far too long.

His hands slid to your back, pulling you even closer, his fingers digging into your skin as you kissed him harder, deeper. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that matched your own, the kiss now less about exploring and more about releasing the tension that had been between you both for far too long. You could taste the remnants of alcohol on his lips, the heat of his breath mixing with yours as your bodies swayed together in sync.

When you both finally pulled away, breathless, your chests heaving as you tried to catch your breath, Billy leaned his forehead against yours, his fingers gently cupping your cheeks, still trembling from the intensity of the kiss. His lips brushed against yours one last time in a soft, lingering kiss that held more than words ever could.

“Baby girl,” his voice was husky, still thick with emotion, “I know things are messed up right now, but if you’ll let me, I promise I’ll fix it. I mean it.”

You took a deep breath, eyes meeting his with a mix of vulnerability and determination. "Look, how about we meet up tomorrow and talk? As a start… yeah?"

He smiled, his lips still tingling from the kiss. “Deal. But what do you say I take you home tonight?”

You smiled back, feeling a warmth that had been missing for so long. “Sure, take me home, Billy.”

[hogwartsandhawkins]

Prove Me Wrong

Chapter 12: Don't Be A Stranger

If you need to catch up here's the masterlist

Summary: Apparently... Jess has new plans for Christmas

Warnings: Mentions of Neil (gross), crude language, cursing, Neil being homophobic if you squint, Billy being a little shit. I think that's it, but as always, let me know if I missed something.

Word Count: 4.8K

Author's Note: I'm so sorry I've been MIA for so long but I'm officially back from my month and a half vacation! TBH I've missed you guys and hope you all enjoy!

“You chaperoning tonight?” Steve walked with Jess toward the parking lot from the gym as they left practice much earlier than usual. The coaches considered this an “early Christmas present” but ensured the basketball team would be having practice a week before school started again in January. The Snow Ball had been the talk of this school week even if it was only meant for the middle schoolers. However, it had also been an excuse for the high schoolers to throw their own parties or get-togethers, not to mention it marked the beginning of winter break, something everyone, including Jess, was looking forward to. 

“Not this year, you?” Jess already knew the answer. Steve never enjoyed that kind of thing, and even if he did, both Nancy and Jonathan would be there tonight, which would have made him want to change his plans. 

Steve shook his head but added, “I’m helpin’ mini-Harrison with his hair tonight though and droppin’ him off tonight.” 

“Who? Dustin?” 

“Hell yeah Dustin. He’s gonna kill it tonight, I know it.” Jess laughed at the thought of Steve combing another teenager’s hair for them. 

“So what are your plans tonight then?” Jess contemplated this question. She wasn’t sure whether she would start on the tedious task Mr. Crowley assigned both her and Billy as Billy probably wouldn’t want to spend his first night of freedom studying. Considering the night it was, she was sure that Hargrove already had plans. She then looked out into the lot and saw him leaning against the familiar blue car, cigarette already placed in his mouth of course. Max was there as well, which surprised Jess since their practice was released 20 minutes after Max’s school was. 

“Uhm, maybe get a head start on some schoolwork. I’m not sure really.” She kept her eyes on Billy though, hoping that maybe that would change.

“Lame.” Steve teased. He continued to walk with Jess, passing his own car as he did so.

“Uh wasn’t that-“

“I thought I’d walk you. Besides Max is there,” was all he said, keeping his eyes on the pair in front of them now, eyeing Billy skeptically as he walked up. “You excited for tonight, kid? You’re first one, right?” 

Max beamed up at Steve, clutching her board as she responded, “Oh yeah, can’t wait, especially since Henderson said you’d be doing his hair again, and that went soooo well last time.” Steve cringed at the memory of two weeks ago, which was described to Jess as a wreck. Dustin apparently was adamant about doing it himself, as he was a hands-on learner apparently, and it ended with screaming from spraying product right in his eye and a small chunk of hair being ripped out due to his hair tangling in the comb, which Dustin swore was due to him balding. 

“Yeah well, I’ll be doing it tonight… I think.” Steve began to stare down Billy again who was also looking at him intently, blowing smoke straight at Steve when he glanced over at him. 

Steve aggressively waved his hand once to get most of the smoke away from him, annoyed by the gesture. “Harrington.” Billy nodded his direction once Steve was able to get most of the smoke out of his face. 

“Hargrove.” They stared at each other for a moment longer when Steve continued, “Guessing you got big plans tonight,” he prodded, insinuating he would be partying with Tommy and Carol, as the pair were always up to something during the Snow Ball. 

Billy swiped his teeth with his tongue as he crushed his red with his boot, smirking to himself when he looked down to ensure it was fully put out. “Don’t really know, Harrington. Depends on what this one wants to do.” He gestured toward Jess, which caused Steve to shift uncomfortably, not enjoying the thought of Jess spending as much time as she had been with Hargrove. Steve rolled his eyes at this, being the first to break the staring, and directed his attention back to Max. 

“See you when I drop Henderson off. Don’t have too much fun.” He directed his last statement to Jess, shoving her arm lightly as he finished his sentence, flashing her a smile of acceptance to lighten the mood. He made sure to give Billy one last look of disapproval, though, before he turned back in the direction of his own car, shaking his head as he left them. 

Jess sighed as she watched her best friend leave. She had made it a point to hang out with Steve more this week, as there wasn’t much for her and Billy to do for their shared reading and she felt as if she had been blowing him off more the past week. However, she felt guilty when she would sometimes imagine what Billy was doing during her moments with Steve.

Considering his failed relationship with Nancy, a relationship that he sacrificed a decent amount of his friends for, she knew he needed her in a way. And the feeling was mutual. He had been the one person she could turn to after the haunting incidents from a year ago and again just a couple months ago. She knew she could never lose Steve. And yet, here she was, spending time with the one person Steve couldn’t stand. Throughout the week Steve had come to accept her and Billy’s strange partnership, which Jess always defended with, “we may as well get along for the project” or “he hasn’t been a total ass yet” occasionally sprinkled in their conversations. 

This thought also irritated Jess. She wasn’t able to do right by Steve, her best friend since moving to this town, when she secretly enjoyed Billy’s company. And she couldn’t do right by Billy, a boy who over the past weeks had shown just how great of a friend he could be when she constantly undermined his character around Steve. She began to realize she was running out of time, that she would have to be truthful eventually, and that she was on the verge of hurting someone’s feelings. But just like cleaning out her closet, she decided to push this task for later. After all, she wasn’t exactly lying, was she?

“Okay, Jess, I’m in.” Max’s voice ripped her from her thoughts as she turned back around to face the passenger side of Billy’s vehicle. 

“Oh, right.” Jess lowered herself in the seat, placing her bag on the floor of the car as she closed her door softly. Billy still had a smirk plastered on his face as he too watched Steve walk toward his car, but it fell when he shifted his head to Jess who was looking at him, mildly annoyed. 

“What?” 

“I know you’re just trying to piss him off.” 

“You don’t know shit, Jess.” Billy gave her a teasing smile as he reached toward the glove box to retrieve his Ray Bans. 

“I know he really doesn’t like you.” 

“Yeah, well.” He placed the glass on the bridge of his nose and pulled out of his parking spot, unphased by Jess’s statement. Jess tsked at his nonchalant behavior rolling her eyes slightly, turning up the radio for background music. “So what are you doing tonight, Logan? You’re not one of those freaks who chaperone are you?” 

Jess nudged his arm harder than intended. “I used to be, thank you very much. But no, not this year.” 

Billy laughed at how offended she was. “I’m just sayin’ I don’t understand why any normal teenager would want to spend their night doing that.” 

“It’s not that bad. It’s actually kind of nice.”

“Whatever you say, princess. You know, we haven’t broken in your ‘new’ TV yet.” Billy began to raise his eyebrows at her. “Let me take you to Family Video and actually pick out a good movie.” 

“I actually already watched Sixteen Candles this week in my room. So it is broken in.”

“Without me?” Billy pretended to be hurt by this fact, gasping at the end of his question for effect. “After I moved it to your room and everything?” 

“You don’t even like that movie.”

“I do!” Max spoke up from behind them, leaning in closer to the middle console as she scooted her body closer to their seats. 

Jess turned to face her, smiling triumphantly as she addressed her. “Well then maybe we should have a movie night.” She then eyed Billy smugly, insinuating he was the one who had shit taste in movies. Max bounced excitedly at the thought of this, realizing that she would have all the free time in the world this winter break. 

“Alright Logan, you let me pick one movie, and the rest can be all the corny chick flicks and sci-fi shit you pick out.” 

The three of them pulled into the Mayfield/Hargrove driveway, Billy turning off the ignition before turning to Jess. “Wanna come in for a bit, need to pick up my wallet and drop the kid off to get ready for the Shit Ball.” He flicked Max’s forehead as he said the last part, earning his hand a loud swat from Max. 

“The Snow Ball.”

“Whatever.” Jess once again rolled her eyes at their bickering and left the car, but before Jess could position the passenger seat to allow Max to leave comfortably, she instead climbed the middle console as she normally did in the mornings and stepped on the seat before crawling out. “Aye, watch the shoes shitbird.” Max ignored him, walking into the house first with her skateboard in hand. Jess and Billy quickly followed, Billy holding the door for them, closing it once they were all inside. Max quickly retreated to her room, Billy leading Jess to his. 

Billy walked straight to his mirror, which stood next to a table that had an assortment of colognes and an ashtray. His wallet was placed next to the tray. Billy thumbed through it to make sure its contents were still there and turned to see Jess standing by his dresser, eyeing what appeared to be a photo album. “Ah shit, forgot to put that away.” He began to grab for it, but instead of putting it away as he first intended, he opened it in front of her. “I guess I did promise to show you California, huh?” 

Billy flipped through the album and within seconds made it to pictures of his favorite beach. It looked exactly as Billy described last weekend. The sand looked so soft like it couldn’t possibly burn your feet even if you stepped on it on the hottest day. The ocean was crystal blue, white foam collecting at the edge where it met the shore. Jess looked at the picture at the bottom left and saw the same beach, but this time a beautiful woman was standing in the middle, smiling as bright as the sun that caused her to shield her eyes when taking the shot. 

“Is that…”

“My mom,” Billy confirmed. He stared at the picture with Jess, his face still as stone. 

“You look a lot like her,” Jess replied softly, afraid that the comparison would make him uncomfortable. Billy nodded his head. He knew this already. Everyone said it. 

Except Neil. 

“Yeah…” he whispered, his head nod accompanied by a melancholy smile. Jess turned the page slowly, allowing Billy time to stop her if he felt the need to. When the page was flipped, what she found instead of the same beach were birthday pictures, a young Billy posed in almost every one of them. She looked at the middle picture on the right page and saw Billy smiling behind a cake with five candles lit in a circle. The color of the frosting caught Jess’s attention, as it was a strange shade of purple with random blue streaks hidden in spots of the cake. 

“You like purple as a kid?” 

“What?”

“Your cake.” Jess watched as Billy’s eyes made his way toward the same picture, and then he began to shake his head. 

“No, uh, my favorite frosting’s strawberry.” He began to run his index finger over the cake lightly before pulling away again. “But, you know, strawberry frosting’s pink.  And my dad didn’t like that so much. Made my mom fix it. She was tryna turn it blue.” Billy then turned the page and directed Jess to another cake, this time it was a shade of bright red and had six candles that were not yet lit. “My dad didn’t like the purple too much either but said it was better than nothing.” He then let out a sad laugh as he kept his attention on the new cake.

“But the next year my mom changed the color. Perfected it, I guess. That’s kind of why red’s my favorite color now, got used to it every year.” However, this wasn’t entirely the case. The truth was, though he did favor red when buying certain clothing and objects for his room, he would much rather be able to say that pink was his favorite. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was due to the fact that he wasn’t allowed the color in his life. Maybe it was the way that he was envious Max was allowed it though she was able to choose not to like it. But he chose red, just like his mother did, and that would have to be enough. 

Before Jess could figure out how to respond to this, Billy began to navigate effortlessly through the pages again, where he found more recent pictures of himself and other teenagers who looked around his age at the same beach he showed her earlier. They stayed for a moment as he pointed out certain pictures and memories before he grabbed the album and plopped it on his bed, nodding toward it, indicating she should go sit. He went to the opposite side dropping himself down as well as he moved the album closer to the pair. Billy propped his upper half with his left elbow, his lower half draped off the right side of the bed. His head would have been on her lap if he hadn’t been holding himself up, making Jess shift nervously. They continued to look at pictures of the beach before Billy changed positions, allowing his eyes to meet hers. 

“So whatya think now, Logan, east coast or west coast.” Jess looked away from the pictures and down at Billy, who was already giving her a smug grin, looking up at her with a glint in his eye. 

“Mmm…” Jess then shrugged her right shoulder forward, rocking the upper half back and forth, teasing her uncertainty, “I guess California isn’t too bad.” 

Billy turned himself once again, facing the album, his arm now brushing against Jess’s leg as he continued to flip through the pages with his other hand. There were now pictures of carnival rides and games. Behind most of these pictures was a beach, but it was much more crowded than the beach Billy had been showing her. 

“Santa Cruz beach boardwalk,” Billy said as he continued to turn the pages. Lots of pictures were taken here, many of which had what looked to be an 8 or 9-year-old Billy throughout them. There was only one of what looked to be a younger Neil, still sporting the same mustache he had now. Unlike his son, he wasn’t smiling as he barely wrapped his arm around Billy for the picture. “My mom always wanted to visit the Bay Area.” 

They continued to look through the pictures, Billy attempting to only show her the pictures of things to do in the state of California and avoid pictures of his family and childhood home. It wasn’t until Billy glanced down at his wrist to look at the time when they decided to leave his room. “Better get goin’ if I’m picking the movie tonight, huh?” Billy playfully smacked Jess’s leg as he began to pull himself off the bed. He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out his keys, jingling them in his hand as he made his way to his bedroom door. Jess left the album open on the bed as she followed him out of the room, both of them walking out the front door together. 

Billy walked toward the passenger door as he began to make a habit of opening it for Jess when she was riding with him. She remembered when she used to be annoyed by the gesture, but now she realized that she rather enjoyed it, allowing him to shut the door for her when she was secured inside. When he entered the car as well, he quickly peeled out of the driveway, ensuring they were no longer driving on Cherry Lane when Neil’s vehicle pulled in. 

They pulled into the parking lot for Family Video in record time, Billy wasting no time as he promptly exited the car. He began rounding the front of the Camaro but stopped when he watched Jess open her own door and exit just as quickly. Jess noticed where he was standing and looked back at the door before looking at Billy again. 

“Oh. Sorry.” 

“Didn’t I say I was a gentleman?” 

“Eh. You’re kind of on and off with it.” Jess smiled back at him as he shook his head. 

“Smart ass.”

Billy walked closely behind Jess as they entered the store, making a point to open the door for her before they did. She began to look around the store, beginning to walk toward the left. However, Billy grabbed her arm and began to steer her to the right of the store. “Wrong way, princess.” She looked in the direction of where he was leading her, and her eyes began to widen as she saw the section they were entering. 

“Absolutely not!” 

“Ah come on. I’ll be right there.” 

“Yeah. That makes me feel soooo much better.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

He let go of her arm and began thumbing through the horror movies, looking around to try and find something more interesting than what was already in front of him. He then looked over at Jess again, still expecting an answer to her earlier statement. 

“You seem like the type to try and scare me even more than the movie is going to.” 

“You should learn to trust me a little more, Logan.” He then held up two tapes and faced them toward her. “How about I let you choose.” Jess was now looking at Friday the 13th and Halloween II. 

“How about…” She mocked the way he spat out his last sentence “… neither.” After what happened in Hawkins, she would have thought her fear of horror movies would have subsided, that nothing could beat the fear of what she witnessed both last and this year. It was only a week before Halloween that Steve also attempted to watch Halloween II with her and Nancy, and instead of Nancy cuddling up to Steve as he intended, she was allowing Jess to hide behind her as she refused to look at the screen. Steve looked only slightly put out the rest of the movie, earning Jess the nickname “cock-block” for the rest of the week. 

“Alright then, smart ass.” He put back Halloween II, the movie Jess would have picked if she really had to, considering she had already “seen” it, and held the other tape in his right hand, beginning to steer Jess to the front counter with his left. 

“Are we really gonna watch that?” 

“I’ll let you pick out the snacks.” 

“Great...”

Billy successfully added the rented movie to his family’s account and the two of them left, Jess shuffling her feet a bit slower than usual, slightly less excited for tonight, not wanting to seem incredibly lame for her inability to watch the screen as the movie Billy picked out played.

As they left the parking lot, Billy drove passed the mini-mart everyone usually picked out snacks for a movie from Family Video, and instead began in the direction of the grocery store on the other side of town. Jess began to turn her head toward the mini-mart and began to open her mouth before Billy quickly interrupted.

“Can’t go there. The guy won’t sell to me.” 

“Won’t sell to… what do you mean ‘won’t sell to you’?”

Billy just gave her a mischievous grin and turned his attention back to the road. Jess then scoffed. “You really think we’re gonna be drinking in my room with my parents in the same house?” 

“Relax… it’s just for me. Unless you actually wanted some. Then whatever.” Jess just shook her head in response, failing to hide her smile as she pretended to disapprove. 

They arrived at the grocery store where Billy apparently had the “hookup”, a middle-aged man who looked like he would rather be anywhere else but there. Billy quickly went after a six-pack of American Colonial and then turned to Jess. “Whatever you want, princess.” 

“Whatever I want.” Jess repeated back, reassuring Billy that she will be getting just that. Considering that she would be forced to watch a movie that would cause Billy to tease her for the rest of Christmas break, she figured he owed her. She made her way to the candy isle first, grabbing a few Charleston chews bars and then a Twix bar. She handed these over to Billy, freeing up her hands as she walked over to the chips and crackers isle, grabbing a bag of Doritos and a package of room-temperature microwave popcorn. “You’re lucky I have drinks at the house,” she stated smugly and began walking toward the register Billy pointed out to her earlier. 

“Is that everything…” The middle-aged man, apparently named Brian, asked with a monotone voice. 

“Yup,” Billy responded, not looking back at the man until he slid his cash out of his wallet and handed it to him. 

“One thirty-two is…” 

“You can keep it big guy.” Billy grabbed the bag and the six-pack from the side of the register, nodding at Brian as he turned to leave. 

“Yippie…” Jess heard Brian sigh as they walked away. 

The ride to Cherry Lane was longer as this grocery store was not on the same side of town as their neighborhood was. When they eventually made it back home, it was beginning to get dark, which made Jess slightly anxious. 

“Shit, I think dinner’s done…” Jess began as she unclicked her seat belt and reached for the door handle. The original plan, as described by Billy, was for him to drop her and the goods off, park his Camaro back at his house, and wait a few hours before climbing her roof to her window. However, she looked back at Billy with something else in mind. “Do you… wanna maybe come in? For dinner I mean. I don’t think my parents will care. You can still come back later tonight.” 

Billy looked at her for a few moments, watching her nervously shift as she asked this question. It caused him to smile. If he were to tell her the truth, he would say how much he enjoyed the first time he ate dinner with her and her family, and how she would never have to ask if he wanted to do it again. All she would have to do was tell him he was welcome to. 

Instead, he dropped his smile and shrugged nonchalantly, looking away from her and to her front door. “I mean, I guess.” 

“You don’t have to if…” Billy was already out of the car, unwilling to have her finish that sentence. 

“Let’s get to it, Logan.” Billy was at her car door again, opening it as she grabbed the plastic bag from her feet. When her door was closed, she noticed that he had taken the six-pack out of the car with him. 

“You said that was for you!” She whispered harshly at him. 

“It is. For tonight.” He winked at her and positioned the pack at the bottom of the bag, covering it with the rest of the snacks. “Why do you think I asked for your shit to be double-bagged?” 

“Dammit, Billy.” 

“Better hurry upstairs.” He winked again, nudging her with his shoulder. “Hey, don’t worry. I’ll distract them. They love me.” 

He was right. For some strange reason, they had taken a major liking to him, especially since the TV incident. And to her dismay, her mother refused to stop talking about how Billy Hargrove was such a ‘nice boy’.

Yeah. Right.

Jess swiftly unlocked the front door and made her way to the stairs, movie in one hand, the now heavy plastic bag in the other. 

“Hey mom, I’m just gonna-“

“Oh hi, hun. Oh and Billy! What a wonderful surprise! Dinner’s about ready if you’re hungry dear.” 

Billy had obviously occupied her parents without even trying, giving Jess an ample amount of time to stash the bag before either of her parents even wondered what she had. When she made her way back downstairs Billy gave her a chum smile, accompanied by another wink as he made his way to the dining room. 

“Told you,” he whispered just loud enough for Jess to hear, both Mr. and Mrs. Logan scrambling around the kitchen. 

“Shut up.”

Dinner tonight was made up of skirt steak, Mrs. Logan’s famous garlic mashed potatoes as served last time Billy stayed for dinner, and an assortment of roasted vegetables. As usual, it was amazing. The silence that accompanied the occasional sound of silverware clanking against porcelain was soon interrupted by Mrs. Logan. 

“Oh! Billy!” Mrs. Logan took a drink from her wine glass before continuing as she captured the rest of the table’s attention. “So my husband has been talking to your father…” she smiled at Mr. Logan, missing Billy’s cringe at the mention of his dad. “They’ve been doing a lot of that at the bank, and the topic of Christmas came up.” She was now looking back at Billy and Jess, both their expressions confused. 

Mr. Logan cleared his throat, nodding as he was beginning to remember the conversation his wife was alluding to. “Right. So we normally do Christmas Eve with the Harrington’s and their boy Steve. He’s actually on the basketball team as well, I’m sure you know him.” 

The same mischievous smile from the car came back as he looked over at Jess quickly before turning his attention to her father. “Oh yeah. Harrington. We’re great friends.”

“Oh good. Figured you would be.” Billy glanced over at Jess again as she cleared her throat. “Well we were thinking, since your family is new into town, you guys live practically next door, and since you, Steve, and Jess seem to be friends, I invited your family over for Christmas Eve as well. We just do dinner and-“ 

Mr. Logan was interrupted by Jess choking on her steak. She reached out for her water and chugged a bit, clearing her airways before looking at her dad. Billy was covering his smile with his hand, his elbow propped up on the table, attempting to look unphased. 

“Sorry,” Jess coughed out. “D- do you think we’ll have enough room? I mean, we don’t have that many chairs and-“ 

“Oh don’t be silly, it’ll be fine. Besides, the table extends and I’m sure we’ll find some other chairs upstairs," Mrs. Logan butt in. Billy remembered the room upstairs with all the old, mismatched furniture, and wondered if any of those chairs would be in any condition to be sat on, considering most were missing legs. 

“Alright,” Jess said in a small voice, pushing her food around with her fork. It wasn’t the idea of having Billy over for Christmas Eve that made her uneasy, rather, the fact that she would be having Billy over for Christmas Eve with Steve Harrington. It will be a whole evening. A whole evening of Harrington and Hargrove in the same house. At the same table. And she would be in the middle of it. 

The vexatious glint in his eye was still there as he removed his hand from in front of his mouth and looked back and forth between her parents. “That sounds great. Can’t wait.” He then smiled over at Jess before bringing back his attention to his food and began to eat again. “By the way Mrs. Logan, dinner is amazing.”

Jess continued to sneak annoyed glances at Billy, who was smugly eating his dinner, apparently amused at what just happened. When everything was finished and both Billy and Jess brought the remaining dishes back to the kitchen, Billy once again spoke up. 

“Thank you so much for tonight, but I should get going soon. Again, Mrs. Logan, dinner was great.” 

“Well thank you for stopping by, don’t be a stranger!” Mrs. Logan called out to him. 

Billy strutted his way back to Jess, who was standing at the landing of her stairs by the entryway. As he reached out for the doorknob, he looked down at Jess, towering over her until he bent down so his lips were just at her ear. 

“See you tonight, gorgeous.”

@nix-rose @fandom-princess-forevermore @ooo---hazelgrimm---ooo @axionn @defenslessheart-main @the-lost-are-ignored

[bebx]

"undoing this character's death would take away his sacrifice and character arc" girl I don't give a shit. I'm bringing him back through the power of ao3 fix-it fics and there's nothing you can do to stop me x

[writerstruggle]

nothing is better than a well-written heavy angst fic

[smutbutoutofnowhere]

shoutout to all my fellow smut enjoyers

[angelsforthenight]

i could eat that girl for lunch… (ellie williams)

ways you can help gaza🇵🇸

summary: you post cute pictures on your story in the hopes of gaining a certain girl’s attention… luckily you get more than what you anticipated ;)

cw: mdni, fem!reader, texting, cunnilingus, desperate top!ellie, teasing sub!reader, cannibalistic metaphors, cursing, ellie is goofy lmao

you’re this close to screaming. the winged eyeliner on your left eye somehow keeps fucking up; either looking too splotchy or shorter than your right one. what’s pissing you off the most is the fact that you aren’t even going anywhere… getting all dolled up just to take it all off in 15 minutes, just to post cute little photos on your story and, of course, just to get her attention.

ellie williams. the name rolled off your tongue with such velvety sleek. every single one of your friends knows her name; has had to endure through your countless obsessive gushes.

you two had met during a party. having been in a drunken haze, you barely remember the first conversation that sparked such an interest, but you do remember her gin breath against your ear: asking/shouting, amidst the blaring music, if you had wanted to go somewhere a little more quieter. the night ended up in you being fingered in her car, before being driven back home by her. a freckle-faced angel in a leather jacket coated with small pins and badges. you were immediately hooked. but it’s been a week since then, and you two haven’t spoken. having achieved her number, you thought of messaging, but didn’t want to come across as desperate, even though you so are.

you thank instagram suggested for bringing you her account on a platter; being filled with niche, introverted posts of every cool-looking thing but her face. she doesn’t even have a “me” highlights! you can’t tell if her lack in posting her face is a blessing or a curse. so here you are, getting ready to post on your story since you followed her the day before. the skin around your eye is starting to sting by the amount of times you’ve been wiping and restarting your eyeliner. it needs to be perfect. you’ve orchestrated all this to be perfect. you take a deep breath and focus, striving to get the perfect wing.

“thank fuck.” you murmur under your breath once you finally get it right, before enveloping your lips in lipstick. you admire yourself in the mirror once done. you look fucking amazing.

since you spent way too long putting on your makeup, it wouldn’t be fair to yourself to only post one picture, so you post a couple. a mirror picture following up a layout of 4 images with the perfect song in the background. a little smile tugs at your lips as you replay the story two, three, four times before setting it on do not disturb and finding something else to do. your heart pounds at the thought of ellie seeing it, praying that she’ll interact. even a simple like will do.

after removing your makeup and getting into your pyjamas, you click on a movie to pass time, setting your phone on do not disturb. half an hour passes, and you’ve been neurotically checking your phone for a sign of ellie to appear on your notifications, but nothing. you check your story to see if she’s seen it but again, nothing. another hour passes, and you check for any sign of ellie. nada. look at my story, you freak! are the words etched in your head, words you wished you could telepathically scream at her. you remember you set your phone on do not disturb for a reason, so you place it far away and focus on finishing the film.

a while later, you’re slumped on your couch on the verge of falling asleep. the movie’s ended and it was so boring that you’re finding it hard to keep your eyes open. you decide to check your do not disturb notifications one last time before taking a nap, until your eyes fall on the name ‘ellie.’ you immediately jerk up, awake and alert: your thumb automatically pressing the notification centre so you can see what it reads.

seventeen minutes ago.

ellie liked your story

ellie liked your story

ellie replied to your story: doll face

ellie replied to your story: you need a seat? lemme volunteer 🙏🙏

a shit-eating grin lights up your face. fucking finally! not once but twice! you excitedly draw your knees up to your chest, eager fingers tapping away, ready to respond - regardless of how long you’d been waiting for her texts. play it cool….

y/n: hahaha thank u thank u <3

y/n: (replied) oh word?

you’re surprised and very happy when you see the ‘typing…’ your heart doing goddamn backflips.

ellie: wooooord

ellie: literally cannot stop replaying ur story… bring that over here 🙁

ellie: come over

!!! your heart sinks all the way down to your ass. the hell does she mean come over?

y/n: ur not serious lmaoaoaooa

ellie: i’m being deadass,,, come over.

you look at the time. it’s almost 1 in the morning.

y/n: idek where u live bru😭😭😭😭

y/n: if anything you should come over since you’ve driven me to my house b4

ellie: mmm nahhhh

you blink in disbelief when ellie sends her location over. she’s not kidding.

y/n: girl i look bummy… i don’t even have any makeup on anymore :< took it off

ellie: i really don’t care

ellie: plsplspsls come over

ellie: u won’t regret it……………. trust 🤓🤓

next thing you know you’re leaving your house in your plaid shorts and a silly graphic tee. thankfully, ellie only lives 10 minutes away, so you take a bus before walking up to her apartment.

y/n: i’m cominggg

ellie: LOL yeaa you will be coming real soon 😇😇😇

though you cringe at her text, your body betrays you; your stomach forming a deep pit. she’s so sultry and playful you don’t know even know what to think. and there goes your heart again, hastily beating away like there’s no tomorrow. you reach the door, a trembling hand raising up to knock.

“hi.” ellie beams, smiling like an idiot. her eyes seize you from head to toe, “nice fit.”

“told you i looked bummy...” you mumbled, trying your best not to seem nervous. ellie moves aside so you can come in. her apartment smells exactly like she does; that faint campfire scent, conjoined with a forest-ey musk. a forest fire you were more than willing to burn in.

“so…“ you begin, with nothing prepared to follow up after that.

“sooooooo….” ellie repeats blithely.

“it’s been a week since… you know…” you whisper, awkwardly shifting your legs.

“since…?” ellie blinks, furrowing her eyebrows. she’s taunting you, trying to play innocent when it’s pretty fucking obvious what you’re on about.

“the party.” you respond, entertaining her coyness for no reason.

“party?” ellie pretends to think, looking up at nothing. “oh!! yeah… jesse’s one.” she smirks.

you smirk back, furrowing your eyebrows in amusement. “you could do so much better at playing dumb, y’know…”

“you think so?” ellie narrows her eyes, tilting her head as she steps closer. the impish smirk on her face never leaves. she’s having fun. you both are.

“yup. for your own good, don’t choose acting as a career.”

“for my own good?”

“for your own good.” you haven’t even realised how close you two are to each other now, daring eyes locked with another pair of daring eyes. takes one to know one. a silence permeated with tension fills the room.

“c’mere…” ellie finally mumbles before cupping your face with both hands and bringing you in for a kiss. you’re quick to melt in her grasp, your hand finding it’s way to ellie’s hair, giving it a playful tight squeeze that elicits a quiet groan from her. her hands, those goddamn hands, then move to your waist, pulling you closer. you two don’t even waste time before you’re making out with such fervor. save the sweetness for later, it’s the hunger that’s on display for now. the memory of her lips were starting to slip away from your mind and you’re glad you’re here to reboot it.

once you pull away, ellie’s eyes drift to something behind you. you follow her gaze, only for your eyes to land on a chair in the middle of the goddamn living room. it’s so random that you can’t help but burst out laughing.

“why is there a chair?” you ask in the midst of your laughing fit. it’s not even that funny, but the laughing is helping with your nerves.

“it’s for you.” ellie giggles too, a light pink tint on her cheeks that’s hard to miss.

“me?” you blink rapidly, your gaze darting from the chair to ellie, “do i sit?” you ask stupidly.

“no, you stand.” sarcasm laces her tone, as she giggles a little more, “go sit.”

“don’t order me around like i’m your dog.” you respond playfully, but you do as she says. despite your ‘tough’ front, you’d do anything she’d tell you to. guess she was being literal about offering you a seat…

ellie grins down at you, angling your chin up so you’re looking at her. you can feel the heat start to prickle in your face, down your neck and pervading the rest of your body. her thumb traces along your bottom lip, slightly dragging it down. there’s that same darkened look she had back in her car, one that makes you feel so small.

“so cute… like a human deer.” she murmurs distractedly, almost like she’s talking to herself instead of you. your head grows fuzzy, blushing even more. you mindlessly squeeze your thighs together, trying to ease the growing heat in between. ellie notices.

“you doing okay?” she softly asks, unable to mask the smug look on her face. you nod quietly. with her eyes kept on you, she lowers down until she’s on her knees, her smile growing. she kisses the top of both your kneecaps in such a tender way it sends tingles down your spine.

“can i eat you?” she breathes, her voice hollow and needy. it takes a second for those words to register in your brain.

“you…” you trail off. ellie’s gaze is very, very distracting. so intense and intrusive. she patiently waits for your answer, resting her chin on top of your knees. how can someone look so adorable and intimidating at the same time?

“please?” she adds, and you smile. a realisation has just dawned on you: you like to make her wait.

“eat me?” you cock your head to the side in feigned confusion. now it’s your turn to play dumb.

“yeah… like, your pussy.” ellie mumbles, becoming so desperate that it’s funny. she needed to be humbled at least a little. “i want a taste…”

“yeah?” you mock, and ellie’s face warps into a frown. “stop teasing me.”

“it’s only payback.” you shrug.

“for what?” ellie whines.

“for taking a week to text me.”

ellie stares at you for a moment. “then let me make it up to you…” her eyes travel down to your clamped thighs, wanting to open them up so bad. truth is, you’d let her devour you. chew you up like a deranged creature and watch her greedily lick the blood from her fingers. but teasing her was just so damn fun.

“aren’t your knees getting tired?” you tease, cupping the side of her face as she stares up at you with puppy eyes. it’s getting hard to resist. ellie immediately shakes her head.

“for you? never.” she whispers. your grin broadens in satisfaction. such sweet words. meaningless? maybe, but cute nonetheless.

“fine…” you sigh, leaning back and gesturing for ellie to go forth. ellie’s face lights up like a bulb, eagerly parting your legs. the movement makes you shiver, as you can feel the heated moisture of your arousal seep through your underwear. despite your shorts still being on, ellie’s lips travel up, both hands gripping your sides as her lips leave fond, wet kisses along your inner thigh. her teeth clench around the hem of your shorts, letting out a muffled chuckle as she playfully pulls your shorts down with her teeth. she’s kidding around but that’s one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen in your life.

you adjust your knees so that your shorts can be pulled down. you’re so wet your underwear is fucking see-through. you just know she’s about to say something.

“someone’s real excited-“

“shut up and keep going.” you hastily cut her off out of embarrassment. ellie laughs, glancing at you one more time before leaning back down again, dragging her ardent tongue up your inner thigh. you gasp quietly, and that little noise influences her to do more, letting out a sigh of her own; the sort of sigh you do when relaxing in a hot bath, or when pissing after holding it in for so long… like she’s needed this. you’re startled when ellie drags her tongue right in the center of your clothed heat, your breath hitching. you want more.

ellie’s teasing is relentless and mean. she sucks your clit through your underwear, eyes on you; observing the way your hips are desperately buckling up, the way your thighs are twitching.

“so mean…” you whine as ellie flicks and rolls her tongue against your underwear.

“did you want something?” ellie blinks. again with the coyness. you scowl and ellie grins in return.

“you can’t outdo the do-er, babe.” she chirps, pulling the drenched underwear off your legs. she opens your legs wide, staring at your pussy like it’s the best piece of artwork she’s ever seen. you can practically see sparkles in her eyes. you shiver when you feel her fingers pry your cunt open.

“so fucking hungry for you…” she whispers, her breathing shallow and her eyes glazed-over. she gets to work immediately, a firm trail up your vulva before kissing it with her lips. a fleshed moan doesn’t fail to escape your own lips, as your eyes flutter shut. of course she’d be good at this.

ellie moans too, gripping your thighs and pulling you closer, burying her face in between your legs as she goes to town on you. she’s moving like she’s starving, like she hasn’t eaten for weeks and has been presented with a banquet.

her lips tug at your folds, your pussy slick with a mixture of your arousal and her spit. every single time her lips hit your clit it elicits yet another strong reaction from you. she’s so vigilant that she’s quick to notice that that’s your most delicate spot, so she abuses it; kissing it and pulling on it, her head shaking as she pleases you with her tongue. you nourish her with hushed praises: ones like “yes, yes…” or “you’re doing so good” to keep her going. it fuels ellie like no other, and drives her to go harder, a little faster.

her movements are so consistent and perfect that you could froth in the mouth right here and now. you grip her hair tightly, and ellie adores it: groaning happily when you squeeze too tight. you mindlessly push ellie’s head closer to your pussy, feeling the tip of her nose buried in. your moans begin to crescendo. you’re in fucking ecstasy.

“getting close, are we?” ellie pants, her thumb rubbing your clit in slow, teasing drags as she resumes sucking on your cunt.

“i’m gonna cum… i’m cumming… e-ellie…” you babble, tears threatening to pour; and it isn’t just the eye tears we’re talking about here…

“yeah? you gonna let yourself go?” ellie stares up at you, her voice a little higher and breathier. her face is warped into one of pleasure, like she’s the one being fucked.

“yeah… please ellie, i’m really close…” you whine: barely coherent, light tears streaming down your face. ellie chuckles at how adorable you look, taking a second to appreciate how good you look when needy. she dives back in, her nails digging into your thigh as her mouth moves with the perfect vigour to push you off the edge. and oh, you do.

one last strong lick gets you off: your spine bending backwards, same as your head as you let out a strangled scream. you grip her hair tightly, your eyes momentarily rolling to the back of your head as ellie purposely continues to extend the high a little bit. eventually, she pulls back. the both are you are completely out of breath - huffing and panting like dogs.

you slump back in your chair, completely out of it and in a daze. ellie smiles.

“you okay?” she murmurs, appreciating your cute, spent look. you nod quietly in response.

“fuck, my knees.” she mumbles, before sitting back and stretching them. you laugh a little.

“there was no need for the chair.” you reply.

“i know… but i wanted to. it was hot.”

“it was.” you smile. you’re glad you decided to get dolled up for your story tonight.

a/n: i’m back! i’ve been so caught up in school that i haven’t been able to post fics as much but i’ll try 2 be more active :33 i’m absolutely obsessed with billie’s lunch so i made an ellie fic based off of it. hope u enjoyed and if u have any requests leave them in the ask inbox !!!

[opossum-that-serves-cunt]

stockholm syndrome being a "rare psychological disorder" is some bullshit because I feel like it's very natural to watch a horror film and want to fuck him.

[moralesluvr]

ꨄ some texts with girlfriend!bils !!!….i haven’t seen any of these so i decided to make some !! hope u enjoyed <3

[aemondsbabe]

Give Me an O!

summary: billy walks in on you in a bit of a compromising situation, and you finally go after what you want

pairing: billy hargrove x cheerleader!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, reader is very flexible, minor injury it's fine, piv sex, unprotected sex oopsy daisy, public sex technically, hand over mouth, fingering, breast/nipple play if you blink, dirty talk, reader's hair is long enough that she can have a ponytail but no other physical descriptors are used, billy is a himbo, steve harrington cameo

word count: 5k

a/n: finally getting around to a request from @sweetshifter! thank you for the idea bby & i hope ya enjoy! also, my first time writing for stranger things! yay! images in the header are for aesthetic purposes only!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

gif creds to @unwanted-animal

🖤 my masterlist

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

“You sure you don’t want me to stay with you?” Your best friend asks as she slings her gym bag over her shoulder, “I don’t mind staying a couple minutes.”

“Nah,” you shrug, still panting a little from practice as you lean to the side with a little sigh, stretching down toward your leg, “You go on, I’ll catch you tomorrow.”

“Alright, cool,” she chirps, glossy lips flicking up into that sincere, beaming smile that had become her signature, “Bye!” She calls over her shoulder as she turns, white tennis shoes thumping against the shiny wooden floor as your name echoes around the gym. 

“Bye, Chrissy!” You reply with a smile, glancing up as the heavy metal doors at the side of the room click closed, leaving you alone for the time being. 

With a tired huff, you check your watch, one that matched Chrissy’s exactly – gold with a baby pink face. You’d gotten them at the mall last summer, a joint birthday present. 

4:34pm.

A sigh leaves your lips as you lunge forward, hands planted firmly on your hips as you try to ignore the slight burn in your thigh. So, that’s… like, forty-five minutes until basketball practice starts, you think, eyes pointed up at the white metal ceiling as you do mental math, trying to figure out exactly how long you’ll have to work on your stretches. 

Deciding to give yourself a few more minutes before calling it a day, you breathe out steadily through your pursed lips as you switch sides and lunge forward again, savoring the light burn in your calf. After a fifteen second count, you move onto your hands and knees, needing to stretch out your back. 

You hum softly under your breath, one hand planted firmly against the blue tumbling mat beneath you as the other reaches back and grabs onto one of your ankles, your limbs forming a graceful arch above you. A small grunt leaves you as you pull your leg up as high as you can, before dropping it down and reaching back with your other hand to do the other side. Mid-pose, you swear you hear one of the gym doors click open, the one out to the hallway with the locker rooms and various storage closets judging by the direction, but you’re so focused on holding your pose, you honestly can’t be sure. 

Huffing, you decide to just ignore it – Probably just the janitor or something, you think, keeping your eyes focused, once again, on the white metal ceiling as you roll over onto your back. 

Breathing steadily, you let your eyes slip closed as you press both legs together before slowly lifting them up, using your hands and elbows to support your back as you lift onto your shoulders. Wincing slightly at the twinge of pain from your left one, you work through it, trying to keep your breath steady. As your green and gold cheer skirt pools at your waist, you silently pray that if it is a janitor, that it’s at least not the creepy one.

Slowly but surely, you work both legs up and over your head until the tips of your white sneakers press into the mat, your arms planted firmly onto the floor for support. 

One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi, you count silently, breathing a little shakily as you focus on balancing… and on ignoring your shoulder. 

Suddenly, a loud wolf-whistle cuts through the silence of the gym, punctuated by a few slow claps and the heavy footsteps of someone walking across the wooden gym floor. 

“Aah!” You squeak as you topple to the side, concentration thoroughly broken. Huffing, you prop yourself up on one elbow as your head snaps up, eyes already narrowed into an irritated glare. Upon seeing who it is, you can’t help but sneer.

“Can I help you, Hargrove?” You sigh, exasperated, rolling your eyes as you angle both legs out in a side split, determined to get through your stretches even with the added annoyance of Billy’s presence.

“Just admiring the view, princess,” he drawls, blue eyes trailing up the length of each of your spread legs in a way that makes your cheeks flush, “You’re real good at that, aren’t you?” He questions, plump lips quirked up into that signature, flirtatious smirk. 

“Good at what?” You ask, brows furrowing as you bend over to the left, easily grasping the toe of your tennis shoe as the muscles in your legs stretch into a taut, familiar ache. 

He chuckles at that, hands on his hips as he studies you, the spicy, woodsy smell of his cologne filling the space around you. He cocks his head to the side, pearly white teeth flashing every few seconds as he chews a piece of gum. 

“Stretching,” he all but purrs, golden curls blowing slightly from the large fans that hum loudly on the ceiling. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he ogles at you, watching carefully as you bend to the right, “I bet it’d be really easy to just fold you up like a pretzel, huh, sweets?” 

With a sigh, you finally let yourself relax for a moment and tilt your head up to look at the boy as you lean back on your hands, your ponytail swishing across your shoulder blades as you do. 

“In your dreams, Billy,” you murmur, trying to keep the expression on your face plaid, wholly uninterested, which is easier said than done. 

You don’t like Billy, and you’re very quick to correct anyone who says you do, even if it is just friendly teasing. But, well, there’s something about him that just draws people into his orbit – charisma combined with a certain mystique. You knew from talking to the girls in the locker room that he was a lady’s man, and a player, but from how they all talked about him, there appeared to be something more there, some hidden layer that no one had been able to crack yet. He’s different from the other boys in Hawkins, no small town charm to hide behind. 

Plus, come on, he’s gorgeous. You might not be Billy’s biggest fan but you have eyes. 

“Damn right, in my dreams,” he murmurs, pulling you from your thoughts as he draws out every syllable of your name in a low, husky tone, familiar smirk playing at his lips like always. 

Cocking your head, you narrow your eyes as you peer up at him, “Aren’t you going out with Amber now?”

“Wouldn’t exactly call it going out…,” he answers as he bends down on one knee to retie the laces of his shoe, shooting you a little wink as he does so. 

“Does Amber know that?”

He pauses at that, a little huff of laughter bubbling up from his chest as he fixes you with a grin that is much too self-satisfied for your liking. “Now, princess,” he starts slowly, blue eyes narrowing at you playfully as he rests a forearm across his knee, “Why do you care so much about what I’m doing with Amber?”

“She’s my friend, Billy,” you say, sitting up a little more, the chill from the AC units making the hairs at the nape of your neck stand on end. 

“So, it’s definitely not because you’re, I dunno, jealous or anything?”

“No!” You cringe inwardly as you say it, too quick and too defensive and just what the blue eyed boy had been hoping for, judging by the smug grin plastered on his face. 

This is how it’s been between the two of you for months now, ever since his stupid Camaro had rumbled into the school’s parking lot way back in August. Since then, it’s been a whirlwind of teasing jokes, sitting through History class after History class as you feel those blue eyes practically boring a hole in the back of your head, and somehow mustering up the willpower to dodge his advances. 

In the nearly three months since his arrival, Billy had managed to charm his way through at least a handful of girls, maybe more depending on which rumors you listen to, but you are determined not to fall for it, not to be just another notch on his bedpost. 

Which would be a lot easier if he’d leave you the hell alone. 

Flustered, you pull your knees up, tucking your chin over top of them as your arms wrap around your calves, silently rolling your eyes as Billy drops to the blue tumbling mat, rolling onto his back with a satisfied sigh, making it clear to you that he was here to stay. 

“Why’re you here so early, anyway?” You question, glancing at your watch once more, “Basketball practice isn’t for, like, another half hour.” 

“Had to drop my stupid step-sister off at some trash arcade,” he grunts, annoyed, “Didn’t wanna waste the gas to go all the way home, plus…,” he pauses, tilting his head to the side to slyly grin at you once more, “I figured I might get here early enough to catch the end of cheer practice.” 

“Creep,” you scoff, much more playfully than you’d intended to. 

The two of you fall into a, surprisingly, comfortable beat of silence. You let your eyes trail over Billy as his own droop shut, one arm propped behind his head as he lazes on the gym mat, jaw clenching every so often as he works the gum in his mouth. You start at his feet, taking in the faded black canvas material of his Converse before you let your eyes roam up his long, tanned, muscular legs. Finally, you reach the familiar dark green shade of his school-branded shorts and your eyes wander up the expanse of his stomach and chest, covered by the grey t-shirt he wears, the familiar eyes of Hawkins High’s tiger mascot staring blankly into your own. 

You nearly gasp as your eyes trail up to his face again, only to find his steely eyes already looking at you, a knowing smirk etched into his face as you feel the apples of your cheeks flush. 

“It’s rude to stare, princess,” Billy drawls, catching you red handed.

“And it’s not rude to perv on me stretching?” 

“Never said it wasn’t,” he shrugs with a little chuckle, sitting up and resting one forearm on a bent knee. You merely roll your eyes as he studies you for a second, the blush on your cheeks deepening enough that you can feel the slight tingle of blood rushing under the surface. 

“Whatever,” you sigh, shaking your head as you stretch your legs out in front of you again. You stretch forward again, letting out a breath as you grab at your ankles and try to ignore the way Billy sits up, propping his forearm up on a bent knee. 

“Could you, like, put your legs behind your head and all that?” 

“Probably,” you say with a little eye roll. 

“Will you?”

“Not for you!” 

The two of you carry on like that for a moment longer — you working through various stretches and familiar yoga poses as Billy seems overly curious about each one, questioning if you can twist into all kinds of poses. 

“Can you do a handstand and do the splits?” He questions, grinning when you groan in frustration, eyes trailing up your long legs to the bottom of your short cheer skirt. 

With a huff, you stand with one hand on your hip, the other pinching at the bridge of your nose as Billy’s incessant questions throw you off the silent count in your head again.

“Did you want something or are you just trying fuck me over?” 

“Mmm, close, princess,” the blond teases, earning another glare from you. Playfully, he holds his hands up in surrender, “You’re single, aren’t you?” He asks, smirking triumphantly at the way you balk.

“I’m not talking about this with you, Hargrove.”

His smirk widens when you don’t deny it, blue eyes darkening as they travel over the length of your body once more. “Look, all I’m saying is that the guys talk in the locker room and… well, I can’t help but notice that your pretty name just doesn’t come up.”

“Maybe I have better things to do than put out for you assholes,” you smirk, quickly stretching out your problem shoulder before kneeling back on the tumbling mat, meaning to finish up with a couple quick pushups.

Undeterred, Billy merely matches your smirk with one of his own, watching as you kneel next to him. “Just come with me to Harrington’s Halloween party next weekend, sweetness,” he offers, his voice a low rumble, “Come on, a couple hours, some drinks. Hell, I’ll even dress up with you, whatever you want.”

“Hmm,” you hum, taking a second to tighten your ponytail as you shoot him a playful little smile, “Whatever I want, huh?” 

“Name it,” he says lowly, watching appreciatively as you get on all fours. 

“Okay, how about…,” you stall, drawing out your words as you extend your legs behind you, grunting softly as your shoulder zings with pain once more, “Willie and Indiana Jo– Ah!” You cut yourself off, exclaiming in pain as you land with a small thud on the mat, wincing. 

“Whoa, hey,” Billy says softly, scrambling onto his knees, brows furrowed as he gingerly helps you roll over onto your back, “You okay?”

You nod, glancing away with a little embarrassed huff as you rub at your shoulder. “Yeah, it’s nothing. I just probably sprained it earlier during practice or something.”

“Lemme take a look at it,” he says, offering a hand to help you up.

Not expecting such chivalrous behavior from Hargrove of all people, you only nod dumbly and let him pull you up off the mat, chest heaving.

“Here,” he murmurs, gently nudging at your arm until you turn your back to him. You can hear the tumbling mat crinkle as he steps closer to you, the warmth from his chest practically radiating through his t-shirt as the spicy musk of his cologne seems to envelope you once again. 

“You better not be using this as an excuse to feel me up,” you warn, albeit playfully, pulling your ponytail over the opposite shoulder. 

“In your dreams,” he teases, goosebumps peppering your skin from the low way he says your name and from the gentle brush of his fingers over the back of your arm as they trail their way up to your shoulder. 

He’s silent for a moment, carefully pressing warm, slightly rough fingers against your skin, watching until you wince just slightly when he pokes at your shoulder blade. “That’s where it hurts?” 

“Mhm,” you nod, lips parting ever so slightly as he kneads around the area. You can practically feel him smirking when you sigh a moment later, his fingers working perfectly over the sore muscle as his other hand anchors itself at your hip, “You’re… actually, like, really good at this,” you murmur with a little laugh, needing to find some way to break the silence. 

“My mom is – was, she was a masseuse, back when we lived in Cali,” Billy explains, leaning in closer, his lips all but brushing against your ear as he speaks softly, like he’s telling you some deep, dark secret, “I might’ve looked at one or two of her books.” 

“Really?” You ask, brows furrowing as you turn your head to look at him over your shoulder.

“Sue me, I was thirteen and they had nudes in ‘em,” he chuckles, biting into his bottom lip when your breathy laugh morphs into a moan when he presses just right against your shoulder. The fingers of his other hand tighten on your hip as he pulls you back against him, his lips just barely grazing over the crook of your neck, “But I still picked up a thing or two.”

“Clearly,” you breathe, brows tugging together as you tilt your head to the side, an open invitation. The blond doesn’t need any more convincing and you let your eyes flutter shut as his lips descend upon your neck, pressing hot kisses against the sensitive skin. 

The rise and fall of your chest grows shallow as the two of you seem to lose yourselves; you gasp as the hand on your hip trails down over your thigh, until Billy can drag the tips of his fingers beneath the white and gold hem of your pleated skirt just as the hand on your shoulder begins slowly moving around your ribs, to your front. Despite the AC units humming away, you can’t help but feel flush as he presses himself against you, already half-hard against the small of your back. 

With a gasp, you jerk away from him at the sound of a door opening and closing in the hallway, muffled voices and laughter filtering in through the closed doors of the gym. 

“Dammit,” Billy mumbles behind you as he quickly glances at the clock hanging above one of the exits, sighing disappointedly when he sees the time – fifteen minutes until practice. 

Deciding to finally give in to the wants you’ve been harboring for months, you grab one of his hands and playfully bite your lip, nodding to one of the sets of gym doors, “Follow me.” 

Smirking, he follows behind you as you quickly make your way to the doors, both of you pausing for a second to make sure the coast is clear before you bolt down the hallway. A second later, you’re pushing Billy through a door into a random classroom.

“This is the old Health room,” you explain, gasping as he turns and presses you against the old door, the metal of it cool against your back as you quickly scan over the empty room, dim other than the early evening light spilling in through the thin slats of the blinds, “No one ever comes in here.”

“Uh huh, fascinating,” he nods, turning his head to spit his gum into a small trash can by the door, before eagerly pressing his lips to yours. He smirks into the kiss as you mewl, his lips parting to quickly swallow the sweet sounds you make.  

Always one to give as good as you get, your lips move against his just as fervently, both of your hands trailing up underneath his t-shirt as you rub over his stomach, muscles taut under your touch. His tongue slips into your mouth in the same second he presses against you, his thin gym shorts doing nothing to conceal the hardness of his length as it presses against your lower stomach. 

You arch into his touch as his hands cup your breasts through your uniform, a low growl rumbling through his chest as you rake your nails over his chest and down his stomach. Boldly, you reach down and palm at his cock, savoring the surprised grunt he lets out before you quickly nudge your hand down the front of his shorts and into his boxers. 

“Shit,” he breathes, one hand still kneading at your breast as the other skates back up your thigh, his forehead resting against yours. Biting your lip, you watch through hooded eyes as you experimentally stroke over his cock, marveling at how hard he already is, like velvet over steel. 

Just as you feel him twitch in your grasp, the blond pulls away from you with a teasing grin and presses one last kiss against your lips before tapping the back of your thighs, urging you to jump. 

“Fuck, there you go,” Billy rasps, fingers digging into the curve of your ass as you clamber up into his arms, your shoulder only barely smarting as you wrap your arms around his neck. “I gotcha,” his muscular biceps flex as he quickly walks a few feet from the door and deposits on you on top of the, thankfully barren, teacher’s desk pushed haphazardly into the corner. 

“Billy,” you sigh, the sound being practically pushed from your lungs as he presses himself back between your thighs, cheer skirt rumbled around your waist as he all but folds you in half – your hands cling to his shirt desperately, one leg wrapped securely around his hip as the other ends up slung nearly over his shoulder.

“Yeah, princess?” He taunts with a wolfish grin, smirking at the way the muscles of your thigh twitch as his fingers move toward your pussy, hardly hidden beneath your boyshorts. You all but levitate off the desk as two of his fingers swipe over your slit, the apples of your cheeks flushing when he chuckles triumphantly, the thin cotton doing nothing to hide how wet you are. “Finally gonna give me what I want?”

You can feel your ponytail bobbing wildly at the crown of your head when you nod, a whiny moan blooming from your lips when he moves his fingers in tight circles against your clit, the flimsy material of your underwear quickly dampening against his touch. 

“Yeah, yeah, Billy,” your hands tremble as you pull at his t-shirt, desperate for what you’ve been wanting for so long, “C’mon, please!”

“Easy, tiger,” he laughs, tongue running over his bottom lip as he easily tugs his shirt over his head, your own hands scrambling to push down your boyshorts. Taking mercy on you yet again, he helps you, eagerly tugging the white cotton down your legs. He damn near tears them in two as he pushes your underwear over one sneaker, letting them dangle from your ankle. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes, crowding against you again as you lean back on the desk, propped up on your elbows. You stare up at him, lips parted, as he all but folds you in half, warm hands pressing against the backs of your thighs, “Fucking leaking and I’ve barely touched you.”

“Oh!” You hiss, trying your hardest to keep your voice down, head thudding back against the desk as Billy quickly tugs his shorts down, just enough to get his cock out, and teasingly runs it through your folds, “Billy, oh my God, just do it!” You all but beg, teeth biting into your bottom lip at the wet sounds of him moving against you, deafeningly loud in the otherwise quiet room. 

Were you anywhere else, Billy would have absolutely no qualms about teasing you to within an inch of your life – payback for playing cat and mouse with him for almost three months straight. Lucky for you, he’s just as nervous at the thought of getting caught with his pants down as you are, shuddering to think what Neil would do if he got expelled over this. 

With a barely contained growl, he pushes into you, his cock sliding easily to the hilt with how wet you are. Your back arches off the desk as he slides home, stretching you beautifully as he fills you completely.

“Oh – oh my God,” you breathe as he stills, giving you a few seconds to adjust. Your hands scramble over the smooth top of the desk before you grab onto his wrists as his hands hook behind your knees. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans – the way he grumbles your name makes your walls clench around his length, punching another grunt from his chest as he starts shallowly thrusting against you, grinding his hips against yours. 

The two of you dissolve into a flurry of breathy mewls and sighs, each of you desperately trying to keep quiet as the muffled sounds of skin against skin and the dull creaking of the desk fill the room. Your eyelids flutter as you watch Billy above you, golden curls bouncing with each of his thrusts as a light sheen of sweat covers his tanned chest. 

Grunting lowly, he presses harder against the backs of your thighs, practically pressing your kneecaps against the desk below you, blue eyes sparkling as you easily follow his movements. With the small change in angles, the head of his cock thrusts perfectly against that sensitive spot within you, and he grins triumphantly as you tremble beneath him. 

“That the spot, princess?” He questions, smirking when you nod your head with a little broken squeak, “Fuck, I can’t wait to get you in a bed – bet you can bend in all kinds of pretty ways, huh?”

“Y-Yeah, yeah, Billy,” you agree, willing to agree to just about anything as long as he keeps moving. You can hardly contain the moans spilling from your lips as he works you higher and higher, the adrenaline from the possibility of getting caught as well as the rush of finally having him making you rush toward your end faster than you normally would. 

Breathing heavily as your pussy clenches at his cock, he lets go of one of your thighs and shoves your shirt up, unceremoniously taking your bra with it. You bite at the back of one hand as he teases at your breasts, using one hand to pinch and pull at one nipple before moving to the other as he stares down at you with half-lidded eyes, brows furrowed in concentration. 

“O-Oh, my – fuck, I’m –” You moan brokenly, squirming beneath him as you feel yourself nearing the edge, teeth biting desperately into your bottom lip as you claw at his forearm and waist. 

Cockily licking over his lips, Billy leans forward as he grinds against you, his hips putting pressure on your clit as he covers your mouth with one hand, propping himself up against the desk with an elbow as his other still grasps at the back of your knee. 

You squeeze him tightly as the tail end of his happy trail rubs deliciously over you, giving you just enough stimulation to throw you over the edge. 

“Yeah, princess,” he encourages, grunting with nearly every thrust into you as he feels you clenching around him, pushing him further and further toward his own edge as he clenches his jaw, determined to hang on as long as possible. 

After only a few more thrusts, he quickly pulls out with a small groan. “Fuck, fuck,” he pants, chest heaving as he strokes his cock, painting your lower belly with stripes of his release.

Both of you still for a moment, breathing heavily as you each come down. Half expecting Billy to simply get dressed again and leave, you’re surprised when he softly kisses you, more relaxed this time, as his warm breath fans over your cheek. Dazedly, you kiss him back, your lips moving together unhurriedly as you card your fingers through the sweat-damp curls at the nape of his neck. 

After a moment, you part and your lips quirk up into a shy smile as he moves back half a step, giving you enough room to sit up. 

“Oh, uh,” you breathe, looking down when you feel his cum cooling against your skin. Glancing around the room, you pout a little when you don’t see any tissues or paper towels, “There’s paper towels in the locker room?” You offer, looking over at Billy, watching as he quickly tugs his shorts back into place. 

“I got it,” he says with a small smirk and before you have time to question what he means, he quickly tugs your underwear off your ankle and uses them to wipe at your skin, grinning meanly when you look up at him with wide eyes.

“Jackass!” You exclaim, laughing softly despite yourself, “That’s the only pair I have with me!”

“Nothing wrong with going commando, sweetness,” he says with a wink, chuckling when you wrinkle your nose at the thought while you pull your bra and shirt back into place, “Come back to my place and I’ll was ‘em for you, my parents don’t get back until late, anyway.” 

“You just want a round two,” you laugh, hopping off the desk and straightening out your skirt the best you can before running your hands over your hair, trying to smooth out your ponytail. 

“Told you I was gonna fold you up all pretty,” Billy smirks, crowding against you yet again once he tugs his shirt back on and lightly grasping at your jaw, “Something tells me you won’t have a problem with that either.”

“That’s presumptuous, don’t you think?” 

“Sure, yeah, I dunno what that means, princess,” he says, grinning when you laugh, your hands pressed against his chest as he quickly tucks your boyshorts into the waistband of his shorts, “Just come back to my place, hm?”

“What about basketball practice? Jason hates when people ditch.”

“You really think I give a shit about what Carver wants?” Billy laughs, taking one of your hands in his as he makes his way toward the door.

“Okay, okay, fine,” you finally agree, rolling your eyes playfully as you let him pull you out into the hall.

“And come with me to the Halloween party?”

“You have quite a list of demands, Hargrove.”

“Hey,” he says with a little shrug, glancing at you as you walk side by side toward the locker rooms, “That’s what you get for teasing me.”

You merely giggle as the two of you round a corner, nearly freezing and nervously glancing over at Billy when you come across Steve, chest heaving as he leans over a water fountain. 

Standing straight, he wipes at his lips with the back of his hand, narrowing his eyes at Billy, watching as he quickly scoops up his duffle bag from where he’d tossed it down earlier in the hallway. “Dude, why’re you leaving? You’re almost, like, half an hour late for practice.”

“Yeah, well, tell Carver something came up,” the blond boy huffs dismissively before taking your hand once more. You shoot a bashful smile at Steve, blushing as you and Billy walk toward the doors out to the parking lot. 

Behind you, Steve takes a minute to connect the dots, brows furrowing as he plants his hands on his hips. After a second, his eyes widen and he shakes his head. 

“Come on, at school?” He calls down the hallway, shaking his head as you and Billy laugh, “Fucking animals, man.”

gen tags: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @wickedfrsgrl @echos-muses @imawhorecrux @avidreader73 @marvelescape @rae-11 @ms-morningstarr @chaotic-fangirl-blog @grsveeth0m @twglitching @hb8301 @delulumhaggy @burntliquorlips @fan-goddess @cl-0-vr @kittendoll05 @beautbuck @eponaartemisa @trshngyn @brettlovessuckingcocks @alerisc @moonriseoverkyoto @wolfdressedinlace @do-double-g @kennafild @cruelworldlana @mheraxes @eternallyvenus @chaotic-fangirl-blog @simp-hub-bro @badxbabyyy @venchi-cremino

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

[hellfire--cult]

Harrington!reader who struck up a friendship with Billy after finding him crying. It wasn’t long until she developed a crush on the older boy. But she knew she was the least attractive girl in school, and on the cheerleading squad. Every girl was all over him, she never thought he’d see her that way.

Movie Night

I'm so sorry, I got carried away, and I made it super long, SO I HOPE YOU ENJOY AND I HOPE EVERYONE ELSE DOES this has: fluff, angst, mean brother persona on Steve's behalf, OOC Billy Hargrove, soft side.

wc: 8k (i got a lil inspired, no one requests Billy and I love to write him 😭)

Stupid Steve. Stupid school. Stupid fucking stereotypes.

You understand, you get it, the fucking sister of Steve Harrington should be the perfect girl, perfect as her idiotic brother. If only they knew that being in every single sport isn’t what Steve wants, it isn’t what he desires, it isn’t what he always dreamed about. 

But it’s not that perfection they want from you, oh no. It’s not your fault you have bad eye sight so you have to wear glasses, and for some reason that made you fucking undesirable. Just because you are wearing glasses, and you’ve been wearing them ever since middle school, where there were minimum problems with it, and now in high school when you just want to be able to date someone, or even kiss, it’s almost impossible because of them.

So yes, you knew people didn’t want to be with you, and you knew that it was all because of the idealization of the Harrington girl not meeting their expectations. Jokes on them, every single fucking guy in school looks like stepped on shit.

When you finally got into freshmen year, you already knew Steve was the most popular guy in school, always boosting about it at the dinner table, father always saying how proud he is for Steve being the captain of almost every fucking imaginable sport. You looked up to Steve, you really did look up to your brother… Until you crossed those forsaken high school doors, and the only face your brother sent you was that of disgust and turned his back on you.

And that sets your fate.

Now as a Junior, your brother finally graduates this year. Ever since he started dating Nancy who is in the same year as you, he has relatively changed. At home, he now tries to invite you to hang with him at the mall, or tell you to have dinner together when your parents aren’t home… You declined his invitation every time. You prefer to eat dinner in your bed, alone, while he drives away to be with Nancy. Just you, your books, and some good music. You are fine. 

It doesn’t help the fact that you have just one friend at school, and she’s not even always with you because she is Nancy’s Best Friend. Barb was always nice to you, and it’s the only one you talked to in class, because then in cheerleading practice, which you had to enter because you needed extracurricular credit because your parents said so, you were given the cold shoulder by every teammate there. You didn’t participate in the cheers really, you just wear the uniform every now and then and pass them bottles of water.

You just have to survive one year, just one more year and you can go to college, probably start anew, meet people, meet someone. You fixed your glasses on the bridge of your nose as you took notes while sitting at the bleachers, hearing the squeak of the tennis shoes of all the boys in the basketball team just going around. You hear a thump, making your eyes look up to see your brother laying on the floor, making you frown.

Then it made sense, as Billy Hargrove smirked, helping your brother stand up again. 

You knew that he wanted to take Steve’s position as the most popular guy at school, getting prom king and all that shit. You have heard your brother complaining about him on the phone sometimes, maybe to Nancy or to one of his friends. From what you’ve seen, Billy looked like a tough and irritating guy, and there is no need for you to get close to him at all, and you really could care less about what he does to your brother.

And that is basically your everyday life. Invisible, and you’re fine with that.

You’re fine. 

“Hey, can you believe that guy?” Your head snapped up to see your brother at your door, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. You raised your eyebrow at him, looking back down at your book. “If he takes away my captainship in the team, I will– Dad will fucking cut my head off.” 

“That’s what you get for following his dreams from day one.” You mumble in a low tone, but he caught onto it, frowning at you.

“I have my own dreams. I don’t follow his.” You nodded at that while still not looking at him. You really could care two shits about all of this. 

“Maybe Nancy can help you with this kinda stuff. I'm busy.” You heard shuffling at the door and then a sigh. You heard steps and you raised your head to hear him slam his door shut, and you knew he was probably getting ready to go to a party or something because of the music he started playing on his radio. Not once you were invited to one of those, not even by your own brother. He had hosted parties before, and you were commanded to stay in your room all night. The only time you came out of your room was to the bathroom to pee, and even then you had to wait because people were always making out inside. 

You got up from bed, closed the biology book to then set it on your desk, looking over to your library of VHS’s tilting your head to check what to watch tonight. You picked Terms of Endearment and Sixteen Candles. Your collection was full of romance and dramatic movies because it’s just your favorite genre to watch. Same with your books, your favorite being Sense & Sensibility. 

Steve left after a few minutes, and you made your way down to start your Friday movie night, and tomorrow will be the same, next weekend too. You should get more movies, you are on a roll of rewatching stuff by now. But it was at this moment, when you put the cassette into your player, and you finally sat down and started watching Sixteen Candles that it all simply fell apart.

Your rough facade crumbles down as you see the romance of the characters on screen, the friendship that is displayed in these movies, late calls with friends, kicking your feet because the guy you liked kissed you, or even called you to spend time with you. You stare absentmindedly at the screen as you see the kissing scene finally happening and your fingertips brush over your lips, just softly, tracing the shape of them.

After a few hours Steve finally returns home, completely sober and cursing under his breath. He sees the light of the living room turned on and some blue light shining on. He walked inside to find you asleep on the couch with the TV still on. He sighed, walking over to turn it off but then his eyes looked at your form, making his face completely fall down.

He bent over your figure to see the dried tears on your cheeks, falling down onto the couch. He looked over to the coffee table to look at what you were watching, getting hold of the case. You watch the same movie every Friday night… And every Saturday night. He rubbed his mouth with a frown to his face as he looked back at your frame. And he always repeats the same action every Friday night and every Saturday night.

He stands up to grab the blanket that’s over the couch to put it over your body, and with tears in his eyes he bends over to press a soft kiss at the top of your head with a quiet whisper that he always repeats and that you never hear, not that you would believe him anyway.

“I’m sorry.”

Monday came way faster than you expected, and the morning was even quicker. Your parents were still away on their business trip, but Steve and you knew they were just out on vacation by themselves. Why have children when you just push them aside? 

You take out the lunch bag with your sandwiches in it, and you walk out of the school doors and into the football field which was deserted because it was lunch time, so it always gave you the best opportunity to head behind the bleachers to have some peaceful time for yourself, and that was until you almost dropped your bag as you screamed and flinched when you saw someone already there who snapped his head back at you.

Billy Hargrove.

Your breathing was heavy and your eyes were still trying to focus from the scare but as soon as they did you realized that Billy’s eyes were filled with tears, one or two might have escaped because you could see the glistening trail that they left behind on his cheeks. You were trying to talk to him, but then his eyebrows furrowed together, a tight angry look on his face.

“The fuck you looking at Harrington?” You flinched back at that, annoyance switching inside of you instead of fear. This guy was crying and has the audacity to sound threatening?

“Oh, right, sorry, it’s just seeing Billy Hargrove actually having feelings is a sight.” His eyes snapped wide at your response, surprise crossing his features while he stared at you this time. “Who’s staring now?”

“Oh, right, sorry, it’s just that hearing you fucking talk for once is a sight.” You were taken aback by his response, mimicking yours. You sucked on your right cheek in annoyance as he wiped his cheeks away.

“Well, off you go.” He snaps his head at you, a frown on his features to then letting a smirk spread on his lips.

“I came here first. You go.” You scoff at that, shaking your head at him.

“No, I always come here at lunchtime, it’s my place.” 

“Well, that’s lonely as fuck.” You know that. You fucking know that, he doesn’t need to say it to your face, not the heartthrob of the school. Before your heart could turn in pain you nod at him.

“Fine, take it for today.” You turn to finally walk away. Maybe you can eat at the picnic table in the forest? But sometimes the stoner would go there to deal, and you weren’t judging Munson really, you gotta do what you gotta do to survive. 

“Wait.” You stopped on your tracks and slowly turned around to see Billy slumping down on the ground, his back resting against a column of the bleachers while he rested his forearms on his bent knees. “You can stay here if you don’t tell anyone you saw me like this.” 

Who would you even tell this to? He might be scared that you would tell Steve about it, but Billy seems to not know you don’t actually have a good relationship with your brother, and you have just one casual friend in this school. You look in between the bleachers and towards the woods and then you look back at Billy, giving a sigh and finally sitting down with your legs crossed. 

It was silent between you two, almost uncomfortable but not quite. You were eating your sandwich and you took out a bottle of water out of your bag too. You glanced once at him, and he was looking at the distance, just breathing slowly. You wanted to know what happened to him, because he didn’t seem like the guy that would cry easily. He looked at you, raising an eyebrow up at you.

“Why do you eat here?” He asks and you clear your throat, taking a sip of your water.

“Why were you crying?” 

“Touché.” You gave a nod in understanding. You weren’t going to talk to him if he wasn’t going to talk to you. You looked inside your bag to grab onto the other sandwich, and you handed it to him. He looked at it with a frown and then back at you.

“If you’re here it means you didn’t eat. Basketball players need food.” You calmly say to him and he looks down at the sandwich, taking it from your hands, and then taking a bite out of it, grimacing in disgust.

“What the fuck is in this?” He looks down into it and you smirk at him, finishing off your own.

“Mustard and pickle sandwich.”

He ate the sandwich anyway. It was nice to eat lunch with someone for once, even if that person was Billy Hargrove and it would be a one time thing in your life… Though, it wasn’t. Billy was back behind the bleachers almost everyday after that. He wasn’t at all that persona that he was with everyone else with you. The cocky insufferable bastard you knew was all a mask, and you could see it when he told you about how Tammy Thompson tried to hide a fart with her cough in class.

“You’re fucking kidding…” You were giggling, covering your mouth as you both sat in front of one another, and the closeness slowly shrinking as two weeks went by of eating lunch with him.

“I am not, she actually thought it was discreet, but I heard it. Not that I said anything about it, but it was a total boner killer.” You raised an eyebrow at that, swallowing your apple that you were having as dessert.

“What, girls can’t fart Hargrove?” He rolls his eyes at you and then raises his hand to flick your forehead, making you wince and rub the skin he left in a red state.

“I didn’t say that. When you trust someone enough to do it in their face, sure. Not in the middle of class, and much less when you are a chair in front of mine.” At that you let out a laugh, throwing your head back. He chuckled and took a swig of his cigarette, blowing the smoke to the side so it wouldn’t hit your face.

“God, I really don’t pay attention to shit like that.” You took another bite of your apple and Billy was still looking at you, clearing his throat, making you look up at him.

“What do you do on Friday nights? I mean, your brother is at every single party but you are nowhere to be found.” He asks you and you feel your cheeks flush slightly at that. You look down at your apple and swallow your bite.

“I often watch movies. Have my own movie nights, sometimes with popcorn, and if I am feeling fancy, S’mores.” You gave him a small smile as you took another sip of water but Billy was still looking at you with a frown to his eyebrows.

“By yourself?” And you suddenly felt embarrassment washing over you. How pathetic were you? He is a guy that has every student in this school eating at the palm of his hand, plans of going out somewhere almost everyday, a date every single night, and you just watched movies and read books for company.

“I– I have to go.” You suddenly blurt out, standing up abruptly to then wipe your jeans from the dirt of the floor. Billy was following suit, doing the same thing, and about to stop you, but you were already walking away. You didn’t need the reminder of how stupid all of your life sounded. You didn’t need it from him. You were always reminded of it by your father, saying that you should be more like his son. Your mother says that at her age she already dated someone and had tons of friends. Steve showing off his new relationship and friends to you, keeping you in the shadows from everyone.

You didn’t need more reminders.

So when you got home, and realized Steve was already out of sight, probably at Heather’s party, you took your time to shower, put on some comfy sweatpants, a white t-shirt and a gray hoodie, and you grabbed your movies and went downstairs. Maybe they will cheer you up from all the stuff that has happened with Billy today. It’s stupid, you both don’t talk to each other all day, yet at lunch you just talk non-stop.

Sweet popcorn was today’s choice and you were already salivating at the smell of it all. Once it was done you put it in a bowl and headed over to the living room, turning the TV on, and putting Pretty in Pink in your VHS. Steve must be getting drunk with his friends by now, dancing to Roxette or something like that. You popped a single popcorn in your mouth and you were about to press play but you were interrupted when glass knocking was heard from the sliding door to the garden.

You jumped up in fear, eyes widened as you quickly turned your head and saw Billy fucking Hargrove outside the doors. You blinked once, twice, three times. Wasn’t he at Heather’s party too? You stood up from your seat, blushing at your attire but he already saw you in it, no time to actually go change. You fixed your glasses at the bridge of your nose as you walked towards the doors to finally unlock them and open a side for him.

“What the fuck are you doing here Billy!” You almost screamed at him, but he raised his hands up in a surrender mode and chuckled at you.

“By that yelling I am assuming your parents are still gone. Let me in, I’m fucking freezing.” He walks past you and you scoff at the nerve of this man. You close the door and you see him looking around with his hands inside his black leather jacket. Your eyes trailed downwards for a second, taking in how tight his pants were, but you snapped out of it, walking around him so that you were facing him.

“What are you doing here?” You ask again and he simply shrugs, still looking all around your house. 

“Party was lame as shit, and you said there was a movie night here tonight. That seemed far more interesting than Tommy trying to do a keg stand and falling onto it, breaking his nose.” He walks to the couch, sitting down on it and he immediately grabs the bowl of popcorn from the coffee table. Your mouth hangs open again at this, going to the couch and sitting down next to him.

“You– I don’t need your pity.” You say to him, looking down at your hands as you played with the hem of the sleeves of your hoodie. He chuckles at that and shakes his head.

“Sweetheart, I don’t pity anyone. The party was really fucking boring.” He takes a popcorn in his mouth and he hums at the sweetness. You raise an eyebrow to look at him. You never thought Billy Hargrove would be on the sweet side of stuff. “So, what are we watching?”

A smirk formed on your lips. He was gonna fucking hate it, that’s what he gets for barging in your house.

Yet–

“I fucking hated Duckie.” You were wide eyed at him. He had paid complete attention to the movie, even giving small commentary that he really liked the fact that the girl stood up for herself. He turns to look at you, a frown coming to his eyebrows. “What?” 

“I just… I didn’t think you like this genre of movies.” You reply to him, a little bit nervous for some reason and he smiles at you and then looks back at the screen.

“I never watched one of these. They have a lot of plot, and they’re interesting.” Your eyes sparkled in excitement and you grabbed his shoulder, which made him look at you alarmingly.

“You’re in for a ride.”

Billy came back again the next day, taking the chance that Steve was out at Nancy’s for the night. He then sneaked into your room while Steve slept and you played Grease on your small TV and VHS that were on top of your dresser. He actually enjoyed it, but despised it because it was a musical. The next time, he actually came through the front door, and you both finally watched Sixteen Candles together. Now, Saturday Night, Steve was at Nancy’s for a family dinner and Billy was taking out two beers from the six pack he came with.

“I don’t drink…” You say to him and he raises an eyebrow up at you. 

“Daily or weekly, but you have tried alcohol. One beer is not going to kill you Sweetheart.” You nodded at that and you grabbed onto the can, sitting back down on the couch. You opened it as Billy walked towards you and plopped down with a huff, already taking a swig out of his can. You grimaced at yours and you took a tentative sip, lowering the can to look at him, completely disgusted by the taste and he simply threw his head back in laughter.

“Disgusting.” You say to him and he shrugs at you, sending a smile your way.

“It’s an acquired taste baby, you just keep drinking it, if you feel fuzzy you can leave it.” You felt your heart accelerate at him, feeling the butterflies exploding in your stomach. You didn’t know when your relationship with Billy took a turn for the better, but he actually sends a smile your way this time when walking down the halls, he sometimes greets you when you pass by him in the hallways, like he is not making it seem like he doesn’t know you.

So it was hard not to fall for him. It was undeniable at this point, and even if he was strong and mean, and an ultimate bully to everyone else, he comes here to your house, watches romantic comedies with you, eats popcorn with you, and you two talk about nonsense all evening. Nobody knows about this, and you’re happy to have this secret between the two of you. You can live in the fantasy a little bit longer.

“What did you bring?” You look at the cassette he got and you look at the front of it. You grimaced again and showed it to him. “The terminator?” 

“Classic sweetheart, it’s an action movie, you gotta expand your movie knowledge a bit.” You didn’t want to complain, it was the first time Billy suggested to watch something he likes, and in reality you were interested in knowing it, and hopefully like it the way he does.

News flash, you didn’t like it.

“Why are there so many guns?! It's unnecessary!” You complain, your beer gone and you do feel a little fuzzy but not too much. You just felt giddy. He laughed at your side and shook his head as he drank his second can.

“That’s what action movies are, baby, they are irrational, little to nothing of plot, and shooting everywhere.” He says and you sigh at that, shaking your head. The room filled with silence as Billy looked forward, his smile slowly disappearing. “You know why I come here often?”

You straightened at that, blinked with confusion as you turned to look at him. You frowned when you saw how serious he got, just out of nowhere, and your belly turned for him, not in a romantic way, but more of a worry kind of nervousness. 

“Because parties now bore you?” You ask him and he gives you one chuckle and then shakes his head, resting it on the backrest of the couch, looking at the ceiling.

“You help me distract myself.” He took a deep breath in as you kept looking at him and you knew it was something he was having a hard time talking about. “The day you saw me crying… I was actually afraid.” 

“What?”

“My father… Let’s just say he has– a rough hand. Any slip up I make, I just get a punch out of it… I’m just so angry all the time, so unlike my fucking self and who I actually am when I am at school. I just let out my anger towards people, because I cannot take it out on my own father.” You could see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, and you knew he was trying to choke back tears as he talked. Your heart just knotted at seeing him like this, feeling helpless, not knowing what to actually tell him.

“Billy–”

“And you… I tried to be mean to you… And you actually had the guts that no one had at this school yet. Talk back to me.” His head turned to finally look at you again and your eyes burned at his confession. “I couldn’t be mean to you… With you I can— I can be calm, watch a movie, talk about how creepy that Creel house is and how we should sabotage it– I mean, the only thing I talk with the people from school? Chicks, sex, cars, alcohol.” 

You couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on your lips, turning your whole body to face him, your legs coming to rest on top of the couch too, bending them and resting your side on the backrest. 

“Well, I am glad I could help in some way… My house is always open for you Billy.” His eyes were just staring into yours now, the only thing being heard in the room were your breaths, until he finally talked.

“Can I kiss you?” 

What?

There is no possible way you heard that from him. This is a dream, it has to be a dream. There is no way Billy Hargrove, your now friend, your crush, the guy you like has asked to actually kiss you. This only happens in movies, in books, and it never happens in real life, at least, not to you. 

“W-Why would you want to kiss me?” And Billy’s features turned into saddened ones at your words. Don’t you realize how beautiful you are? He straightened up on the couch, his body turning to face you as well as both of your hearts jumped out of your chest.

“Why wouldn’t I want to kiss you?” was his short answer. Your belly turned in pure nervousness now as your body grew a cold sweat. You never kissed anyone, and Billy seemed to know how to do it, and you were just too inexperienced. A flush came over all of your body as you fixed the glasses on the bridge of your nose and you looked down to avoid his gaze.

“I– I never–” You gulped, not being able to finish the phrase from how stupid it sounded. A warm hand was pressed on your cheek, making you lift your head up to look at him again, and you didn’t realize how close he got to you, his blue eyes staring into yours.

“I ask you again… Can I kiss you?” And you finally give him a nod. You weren’t going to miss this chance, not for one second. He still wants to kiss you despite you not knowing what you were getting yourself into. He smiled at you and grabbed onto your glasses, pulling them off your face and setting them on the coffee table. “They were just going to get in the way.” 

You took a shaky breath in, his hand still on your cheek as he slowly leaned down towards you. You closed your eyes and his remained open to remember your features as he finally does what he has been wanting to do for the past weeks. At first it was a simple attraction of course, but he knew it was more than that, and he was scared as shit about it… But he never wanted someone as much as he’s been wanting you.

His lips connected with yours in a soft peck, brief, and you let a breath go out of your lips, only for another peck to land. Then another, then another that lingered there a bit more, and then the next one he just stayed there, and suddenly started moving his lips, guiding you as your heartbeat made you deaf in your ears. How do people do this and not faint at the spot?

The lip smacking was heard in the room as your hands finally were brave enough to travel, one scanning his bicep, the other one moving towards the back of his neck, feeling his skin under your fingertips. His free hand landed on your waist, not pressing too hard so that you know that he is being mindful of you. At this point, Billy would already be inside someone, satisfying his needs, but with you… He wasn’t going to do that, at least not now, not yet, and that is if you let him. 

He wants to take care of you.

He pulled away for a second, his lips touching yours still as your breathing mixed with one another’s in soft pants. You were feeling as if you were burning all over, not knowing what was happening with you. You never felt like this before, and maybe it has to do with the fact that not only was Billy good looking, but you also feel more than just friendship for him.

“You okay?” You nod frantically at him, wanting more, giving him a peck on the lips making him chuckle in a low tone. “Sorry baby, but I need more.” 

He suddenly pushed you back on the couch, crawling over you and you didn’t even think, you just wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and he kept his bottom half away from yours, even if it pained him on his thighs from the strength he was doing to keep himself up. His lips connected with yours again, rougher this time, more desperate, the kiss suddenly turning into a very heated one as he suddenly licks your bottom lip a few times.

The butterflies in your belly explode as you open your mouth and his tongue finally slides in. You gasp at the feeling, your hands finding his biceps through his blouse, and you felt his chain hitting your neck at every movement. One hand was still gripping on your waist, while the other remained at your nape, pulling you deeper into the kiss. 

You really can’t believe this is happening, not to you, not with Billy, it doesn’t make sense that he looked your way, it doesn’t make sense that he actually wants to kiss you, not when he has Heather on his tail all the time, or Carol even if she is dating Tommy. Or Janet. You always hear them talking about him in the bathroom, always planning their move on him, and this feels you with a sense of power, with a sense of accomplishment and pride in yourself. 

Your hands ran through his hair and he groaned into the kiss, and that ignited so many things inside of you that you never felt in your life, and you wanted to hear more of it. Billy was trying his best to keep himself in a hovering position with you, but he was finding it harder and harder to do so. He can’t go on, at least not today when it was your first kiss. He didn’t want to scare you, even if your urges were the same as his, because he could feel your need to pull him even closer.

The door suddenly clicked and both of your eyes snapped wide open, pulling away, looking at one another, panting heavily. Best scenario, it's your parents, and they would be thrilled that you actually, and finally, have someone over at your house… Now, worst case scenario–

“What the ACTUAL FUCK?!” You both sat up on the couch to look over at Steve, who was standing there in the living room, wide eyed, and his face reddened bit by bit. Shit.

“Steve–” You started talking but he raised his hand at you, to then point a finger at Billy.

“Get the fuck off my sister.” You wanted to roll your eyes at this, because why is he acting all protective now? You finally got some action in your fucking life and he wants to take it away from you.

“I don’t think she wants me to leave.” Billy dares to say, glaring at your brother who took a look at the coffee table, seeing the cans of beer. His mind started racing, and Billy followed his gaze, his mouth opening to talk but Steve was running up the stairs already. Your eyes widened and you pushed Billy off, standing up quickly and urging him to do the same.

“You have to leave!” You were trying to push Billy towards the front door but his feet were still planted against the floor with a frown to his face, and your head snapped to the stairs to see Steve running back down with his baseball bat in his hands. Billy’s eyes widen when Steve starts to approach him with a swinging motion.

“Taking fucking advantage of my sister is something I won’t take from you Hargrove, so get the fuck out of my house before I crush your skull in!” 

“Shit, Harrington– Fucking listen for a second–” Steve’s baseball bat hits the backrest of the couch, and you could see the dent of the wooden under it that he created. Billy ripped himself off you and gave you a look as if asking if you were okay.

“I’ll talk to him, you go.” You tell him and he gulps, looking back at Steve with a threatening look on his face which Steve only scoffed at.

“I’ll talk to you later.” Billy says with a small squeeze to your hand as he walks out of the house, passing by Steve. Your brother follows him to the front door and he doesn’t walk back inside until Billy drives away with his Camaro. After the roaring engine can be heard in the distance, Steve slams the door shut, throwing the bat at the floor and stomping back into the living room where you were standing there with a glare on your eyes as if you were about to kill him.

“When I saw his fucking car out in front of the house I thought it was a stupid coincidence, and I come in here to see you about to have sex with the sluttiest man in the goddamn school! What are you thinking!?” You frown in anger at that, stepping towards him.

“I am his friend! I wasn’t going to have sex with him, and he wasn’t taking fucking advantage of me! I drank ONE beer, ONE!” You yell back at him and he fake laughs as he runs his hand over his face.

“The first time you have a guy in this house, and it is Billy FUCKING Hargrove. The one guy that I am fighting with for Captain at our basketball team, the one guy that gives me the hardest fucking time of my life at the moment, and you want me to just accept that he wants to be with you because he WANTS TO?” Your chest hurt at those words, your own coming out in soft stutters at Steve’s blind rage.

“He even asked me if I wanted to, and I said yes–”

“God, you cannot be this fucking stupid! He hates me, makes my life a living hell, and you seriously think that he is a nice guy!? You really think there is no ulterior motive!?” He yelled at you and his words were stabbing you in every part of your body, your head already spinning from how harsh he was being with you.

“Why? Is it impossible that he actually wants to be with me?” You try to say loudly at him, even if your fingers start to feel numb. He scoffed at that, looking at you.

“Yes, and I don’t think you are dumb enough to not see that.” He was referring to so many other things, and it was regarding Billy’s persona, in Billy’s actions, in his rivalry with him… And when he saw your tear rolling down your face, his anger evaporated as if water was being thrown at him.

“Okay…” Was your defeated response. You turned around to retrieve your glasses from your coffee table and Steve winced, clenching his eyes tightly together as pain rushed through his body. 

“That wasn’t what I meant– Hey, listen to me, I really didn’t mean it to sound like that–” But you weren’t listening, putting the cassettes back into their cases and turning off the TV. You grabbed them and walked past him, going up into your room. Steve stood there, knowing he hurt you once again, not knowing what to do but run a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath as he started pacing back and forth.

He didn’t mean it to sound like no guy would want you, he didn’t mean it at all like that, yet the words coming out of his mouth betrayed him, completely. He doesn’t know how to make it up to you, because if he had given you the chance to go to the parties with him when you asked in your freshman year, many times, and told you yes instead of no, you would have more experiences, you might even have friends. If only he had let you come out of your room at his own parties when you asked him, almost begged him to let you participate, but he declined each time. Then in your sophomore year, you didn’t ask anymore, just accepted that he wasn’t going to tell you anymore about them, and you automatically locked the door whenever he hosted a party. 

This year, he tried to invite you, many times. You always declined. You didn’t even want to eat dinner with him, and he knows you want to leave the house as soon as possible thanks to him. Even with your parents. For the past two years he had been so blind because of his father’s approval and the one of all the students in Hawkins High that he didn’t notice how your parents didn’t ask you stuff at dinner. All questions were always directed to him. He noticed this year, and he tried to tell them you had nailed your exams, and the only thing you got from your father was ‘As she should.’

He was the cause of who you were now. Not at all the bubbly and animated girl that asked him to raise her up like an airplane in their backyard, not at all the small girl that put makeup on him pretending she was a stylist, not at all the middle school girl that got excited to see him whenever she got home from school to tell him about what she learned that day. 

He walked up the stairs and raised his hand to knock on your door, only to hear soft sobs on the other side, muffled. He wonders if you had also cried when he denied you all those times. He doesn’t know how to even make it up to you. He doesn’t know if he even can. 

So the next day, when you didn’t come out of your room, he let you have your alone time. Now on Monday he tried knocking on your door, only to receive the notice that you felt sick. He tried walking in but your door was completely locked. His eyebrows twitched and his mind had come up with a plan. A plan he will terribly hate. A plan that might end up badly for him. But it’s what he deserves for what he did to you. 

Billy looked everywhere for you, and even asked Barbara Holland where you could be. She told him that she hadn’t seen her at Science that day either, so his best guess was that you had skipped school. His jaw clenched when he asked other people about you and some of them didn’t even know what you looked like. He waited for the bell to ring, and he was going to tumble Steve down if he had to in order to see you. He didn’t care.

But when he walked out of the school doors to rush to his Camaro, he was surprised to see Steve Harrington sitting on his trunk with his arms crossed. Billy’s eyes hardened at the sight, walking towards him, tilting his head in question at the brown haired boy who was looking at Billy with a mix of emotions behind his eyes.

“Harrington. Get off my fucking car.” He says and Steve gulps as he looks to the side.

“I fucked up.” At that Billy’s eyebrows turned into a frown, but his fists started clenching as Steve kept talking, telling him everything, everything he did to you, and what he had said to you that night when Billy left. 

While this was happening, you were combing your hair after the shower you took while sitting on your bed. You had taken a shower because you were greasy from yesterday already, and you really didn't want to get up, but you didn’t have a choice. Ever since Steve said that, you didn’t have the guts to actually call Billy because at some far away place in your mind, it made sense. 

You were invisible, and suddenly you were noticed? It doesn’t sound real. 

So maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it really was to get into your pants to mess with your brother, and that was honestly the most reasonable explanation for it. You frowned when you heard the door open downstairs, your door was left open so you could hear some drawers being open, to then hear steps coming up the stairs. Your eyes widened when you saw Steve slamming himself against the door frame of your room.

His eye was completely inflamed from a punch received to the face, his nose was bleeding and he was holding some ice covered in a rug to soak the blood in it. From what you could see, his lip was busted as well and his breathing was coming out of his mouth, almost in a pant.

“Steve, what happened?” Even in your hatred for him, seeing him this way made your heart fill with worry, pushing all of the other feelings aside. You were about to rise from the bed until Steve raised his hand up at you.

“I deserved it.” He looked towards the hallway and your eyes widened when you saw Billy coming into view, a pack of frozen peas on his right hand, his eyes glaring at Steve as he passed by him and into your room. His eyes turned to yours and you couldn’t help but look up at him, completely stunned. Steve groans and closes the door for you two as he heads downstairs. 

“What… Did you…?” You stutter as you sit back on your bed, seeing Billy’s injured hand as he sat on your bed too, nodding as he looked at you.

“I sure as hell did. Fucker deserved it. He told me everything, from the very beginning, and also what he said to you on Saturday night right after I left.” You feel your face flush with embarrassment and you look down at your hands again. You are not understanding what is going on, nor why Steve would go and tell your life story to Billy. “Though I have to say… Your brother does care for you.” You scoff at that.

“Right. Like he cared for me the past two years.” You reply with venom in your voice and you feel Billy scoot closer to you.

“He knows. He knows what he did to you. Your freshman year was the punch on the eye, your sophomore year was on his lip… And what he said on Saturday was the one on the nose.” He lets out a chuckle and you feel mixed emotions to that. You were happy that he defended your honor, but Steve was still your brother and you didn’t want physical harm to come to him.

“Don’t punch him again… Please.” You slowly looked up at Billy and his blue eyes were already looking at you. Your heart rate picked up the longer he stared at you.

“Do you really believe what he said to you that night?” He asks you, a small worried tone behind his voice. You feel yourself gulp and you look away in embarrassment or nervousness, you no longer know.

“I– After years of feeling this way, it was a very possible scenario.” You say to him in a low voice, your fingers playing with each other. You see him put the bag of peas away, and his hands look for yours. You look down to see his right hand completely bruised up, some skin completely chipped off on his knuckles. You gasp at that and his hold gets stronger on you, making you look up at him. He was closer now, making your breathing get stuck in your throat. 

“How can I prove to you that I want you? How can I prove to you that I like you, that I like you very much that I drive myself insane with this fucking feeling, because god knows I am not good with relationships…” For the first time you see a blush come to his cheeks, and his gaze looks down at your connected hands, like how you do when you get nervous. “But I wanna try that with you.” 

Your heart leapt out of your mouth almost, not truly believing what was happening, but the bruised knuckles made it more real, the blush on his cheeks made you realize it was no dream at all. This man in front of you wants you, despite it all, and you both have so many broken pieces to pick up inside one another, but you figure that you can help each other. You can mend his heart back, as he can mend yours.

“I think… The first step would be a date…” You say to him almost in a whisper and he chuckles as he looks up at you. He squints slightly at that as if in thought as your smile grows on your face while looking at him.

“I have an idea for it. I think they are showcasing the new Rambo movie.” He says to you with a smirk to his face and your mouth fell open at that, shaking your head.

“I am not watching an action movie on our first date!” He chuckles at that, his face coming closer to yours slowly, and you feel magnetized to him as you both leaned into one another. 

“Oh, I bet you prefer the one where the bad boy goes for the intelligent and perfect girl, that genre, right?” You squint at him, pretending to be offended by his words.

“Don’t act like you don’t like those movies Hargrove.” At that he chuckles, his left hand snaking to the back of your neck to pull you closer to him, a soft breath hitting your lips as he talks.

“I might have a thing for romance.” His lips touched yours again, and you smiled through the kiss, your own hands resting on the back of his head to pull him deeper into the kiss, to taste him even better. Your lips moved along with his, taking in eachother’s breaths, bodies coming closer at each second.

“Don’t fuck my sister, I draw the line there. Not today, not with me here.” You both heard Steve’s voice behind the door, making Billy groan in annoyance and pull away from you to glare at the door as the steps could be heard and another door closes down the hallway.

“I am punching him again.” Billy says and you were glaring at the door too.

“My turn.”

A/N: Well shit, I hope you enjoyed. IT TURNED OUT TO BE A ONE SHOT.

[naturesapphic]

Pressure

Billie eilish x fem!reader

Warnings: smut, strap-on, daddy!billie, tongue sucking, choking, cussing

A/n: @bilswildflower said she wanted someone to write it so I thought I would make a little something hehe

Billie had you against the wall pounding into you with no mercy in her veins. You were in one of the rooms backstage on the Stephen Colbert show and Billie had already went on, but will soon be performing one of her songs called “lunch” live. She would be going on in ten minutes and here she was fucking your brains out.

“F-fuck daddy!” You moaned out as Billie had your legs wrapped around her waist and your hands clawing at her clothed back. Her face was in your neck leaving love bites behind as she used one of her hands that was holding you up and trails it up your body. She lifted her face out of your neck and gripped your throat in her ring covered hand and kissed you deeply.

You both moaned in each others mouths and Billie starting shoving her tongue down your throat. You whimpered as her tongue explored your mouth and removed her hand from your throat to trail down to your stomach and apply pressure to see where the strap is. She smirked against your lips, breaking the kiss “mmm…right there…let’s see if I can go deeper how’s that mamas?” Billie whispered against your ear and you felt your eyes roll in the back of your head at her tone.

You whimpered out a yes and Billie gave you a smile and leaned down to kiss you again. She used her strength to put one of your legs over her shoulder and started pounding into you more at this new found angle and you moaned loudly. Hearing the moans and noises you make because of her makes Billie go absolutely feral. You kept moaning against her mouth and Billie takes that at another invitation to push her tongue in.

She swirls all in your mouth and finds your tongue and starts sucking on it, leaving trails of spit coming down the side of y’all’s mouths. You felt the strap on go deeper and deeper and Billie put her hands on your stomach against and pressed down back on it and smirked. “That’s more like it. Are you gonna come for daddy sweet girl?” She asked and you nodded, pressing your sweaty forehead against hers. Her thrusts started to become faster and harder making your legs shake, as you let out one final guttural moan before you came all over her.

She smiled and slowly pulled out of you, your cum leaking out of your pussy. Billie licks her plump lips at the state you are in and picks you up in her arms and sits you on the couch. She goes into the bathroom and gets a warm rag and starts cleaning you up as you sat on the couch, panting. “You did so good for me babygirl. So good.” She praised you and you gave her a tired smile as she leans down to kiss you softly. Someone knocks on the door telling Billie she’s about to go on and she looks at you “stay here and get some rest baby because im no where near done with you.” She rasped out and gave you a wink before helping you put your underwear and pants back on.

She then gives you her blazer to cover up with while you take your little nap. Billie walks to the door before spinning around and looking at you with a loving expression “I love you mamas.” She said sweetly and you felt your heart burst at the sincerity in her voice. “I love you more bils.” You say and she gives you a wink before she walks out the door. You smiled to yourself before covering up with her blazer. You nuzzle it up to your nose since it’s smells like her and fall into a deep sleep.

A/n: hehe I hope y’all enjoy and I hope @bilswildflower this is what you wanted! Remember my requests are still open for Melanie Martinez, billie eilish, and my other characters I write for. Remember to stay hydrated and that I love you! And this fic is also for @billiesbabygirl

Tag list: @mxqdii

[toxicanonymity]

omg the way every inch makes me drool idk what u did to me i haven’t been the same since 😃 ur so talented i owe u my kidney for that fic alone ! would ever consider part two?? no pressure !!!

EVERY INCH 2

2200 words, m!ghostface x f!reader

follows Every Inch. NEXT: Every inch 3

SERIES MASTERLIST

A/N: He's never unmasked. He is night walks coded. Thank you for all the love on my first Ghostface fic. This was a "one shot fail" because of your engagement & enthusiasm. WARNINGS: I8+ piv, noncon, he calls himself daddy, voyeurism, dirty talk, masturbation, knifeplay, hair pulling, manhandling, choking kinda, degradation, pet names. NO USE OF Y/N. 

SUMMARY: Last time you saw ghostface, he was unconscious from the car wreck and you had your way with him. Now, he's coming to take what's his.

You've put Ghostface behind you, at least in terms of fearing for your life. He's finally left you alone. He must be too humiliated to face you after you restrained him and had your way with him in the car while he was passed out. You still look at the picture you took every day.  You'd like to get it printed and stick it on your bathroom mirror.  He looks so pathetic with his own mess all over his robe. But it's not just the humiliation you love to see. It's his cock. . .

Yeah, his cock.  You've thought about it more than a few times. He would've given you every inch. All you had to do was ask. And the video of him whimpering? You save that for special occasions. Like when you need to cum in a hurry. 

It's Friday night and you're lying in bed after getting home from seeing a movie.  You make sure your vibrator is charged before you start reading, but soon enough you get distracted.  You're looking at your video of Ghostface coming all over himself when a call pops up on the screen. No ringtone.  Your phone is still on silent from the theater.  

The restricted number still makes your heart jump even after such an empowering victory. But you rip the bandaid off and answer it on the first ring. "Hello?"

"So... how'd you like the movie?" the voice changer asks you. 

You panic and hang up, but when he calls right back, you answer again. "This isn't funny, whoever you are."

"You know it's me, baby. You feel it in your. . . pants."

"What do you want?"

"I asked how you liked the movie." 

Friday night. Lucky guess. You know he’s not going to let it go, so you might as well answer. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of acting aghast that he knows what you did tonight.  "Fine, I liked it. It was fun,” you say dismissively. 

"Picked a bad time to refill your drink. . .  Missed a great kill."

Your heart jumps. ". . .you were there?" The theater wasn't even that crowded. How could he go undetected? Surely you would have recognized something about a man you rode into oblivion. 

He's bemused. "What, you thought I was gone? Nowhere?”

"wishful thinking," you reply. 

Ghostface says, “Oh, we both know what you really wish for. . .”

You’re not even going to argue. 

“How was your date?" 

"How was yours with your hand?" You retort.

"You didn't look interested.” 

"What, are you gonna ask me out?" Your face heats up as you hear your own words.

"Not tonight. 'Cause you've got a date with that toy and my picture, don't ya?”

You freeze. 

He taunts, "Want a third wheel?"

You ask, "How long have you been watching me?"

"Never stopped, sugar." You feel like a fool for thinking he had. “I’ve just been a little. . . distracted.” 

You scoff. 

". . . Okay, did you call just to talk?"

"Wanted some audio with my visual this time."

"Pervert."

“oh I'm the pervert," he chides. Your face is burning up.

"You know, you’ve still got something of mine.”  His knife. You’ve hid it somewhere special.  “Keep comin’ for it. . .but don’t wanna interrupt you.”  

You look out your window, which faces the woods.  "Cause you put on a good show, baby." There’s never been a reason to close the curtains.  You preferred to see danger coming. Danger like him. A lot of good that’s done you. 

“You’re a creature of habit, aren’t you?” 

Are you that predictable?  

“Lucky for me,” he adds darkly.  His breathing becomes audible.  “Oh, you like this, don't you . . . knew ya would. . .  .  .Dripping already.” His voice is steady through the equalizer, but his speech pattern tells you his dick is hard. And god damn if he isn’t turning you on. 

“Dip a finger and show daddy how wet you are.” 

Before you know it, you're doing it. You don’t show him, but you curiously dip you fingers and pull apart the clear string of of your arousal

“Two fingers . . let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”  You lie there clenching your thighs together. 

“Ah, fuck it. Go ahead, turn it on,” he says but you don’t move. You clench your thighs together.  “Turn it on,” he repeats firmer, and something possesses you to turn your vibrator on. 

“Yeah, that’s it . . .”

You don’t even need the picture now, or the video, or your reading. But you don’t exactly want to let him make you come this fast. 

He sighs and says, “You’ve got a nice, juicy pussy." He spits, which the voice changer doesn’t process.

You close your eyes and recall what it felt like impaling yourself on his cock. 

"You don't have to say it," he reassures you menacingly. "I know I’ve got a nice cock.” 

He’s right about that.  You close your eyes as you touch yourself.  You’re too horny to think straight, but in the back of your mind, you try to tell yourself he killed your friends. He killed your friends. It doesn’t make you any less turned on. You sigh in shame at yourself. How does Ghostface have you wrapped around his finger?

“Oh, it’s only natural, baby. This cock’ll fuck you right up.” God, why does that turn you on? “In the guts and the head.” 

"Real shame I wasn’t awake.” He breathes heavily for a few seconds. "Coulda been even better for you.” 

You fail to suppress a moan as heat is bubbling in your core. 

“Yeah. . .Can’t stop thinkin' about this cock, can ya?” 

You turn up the intensity of your vibe. 

“Not everyday someone takes every inch of this.” He moans weakly then spits again. “Filthy girl.  Swallowed it right up.” 

“So tell me, sugar," his breathing is even heavier now. "How do you want it?”

“What if i don’t” you lie, then gasp at the tension in your core.

“Then why’d you take it,” he says with a bite and the heavy breathing stops. 

“Because,” you pant. “It was there.”

You’re getting close.  “How do you want me,” you self-loathingly ask. He doesn’t answer. You look at your phone and he’s gone. Shit. You open the video you took of him and as soon as you hear him whimper, your body jerks as the tension bursts inside you. As soon as you finish pulsing, the regret hits you like a tidal wave. So fucked up. Soooo disgusting.  You need a shower. 

—---

You take a long, hot shower, listening to music. You sigh, feeling a little better already. You turn off the water.

“Soaking wet. That’s how I want you.” You freeze and the only sound is the dripping water for a few seconds while the song changes.  

“Come on, you’re smarter than this.” The voice changer echoes through your bathroom and you almost fall over. “What’s next? Going down to the basement?”

You stand silently in the shower with your heartbeat echoing in your ears.  There’s nothing you can do.  You squat down, hugging your knees.  There’s no good option.   

The shower curtain slowly draws open and he looms above you.

“My turn, baby."  The glint of a knife–your own kitchen knife–catches your eye. He tilts his head slightly and observes you for a moment.  Then he pulls your hair and violently forces you to your feet. You begin to slip and he catches you, then manhandles you out of the tub and you whimper. You’re thrashing around wet and naked.  He drags you to the bathroom sink and puts you between him and the sink, both of you facing the mirror. He reaches out and wipes the mirror with his robe to make sure you can see. 

The sight is surreal. You’re completely nude with Ghostface up against you.  One gloved hand cups your breast while the other raises the knife.  He stays behind you and holds your own kitchen knife to your throat.  

He inhales audibly. “So clean and so filthy.”  

You elbow him in the gut. “Let go of me.” 

“Afraid not, baby. . .” The hand leaves your breast and slides lower.  He presses on your hip, bringing you tight against him. “Too late now.” His hips push forward and the massive shape of his hard cock makes you weak. 

He holds you still with just one of his big arms as you struggle.  “Coulda had it how ya wanted.” 

The unwelcome throb between your legs is spreading through your abdomen. 

“Now you’re gonna take it right here.”  He keeps you pinned to the counter, the arm with the knife holding you still while he lifts his robe and tugs his PJ pants down.  “You’ve put me behind you after all.”  He jerks you back against him, pulling you off the counter and holding you tight against his hard dick.  He lightly trails the tip of the knife down your cleavage and your stomach, dipping into your belly button on its way down to your mound. Then he holds it handle-up and teases your cunt with the flat of the knife as you watch in the mirror. The cold metal sends a shiver down your spine and you watch your nipples harden.

“Who are you?”

“Your favorite bad guy. Ask me a. . . harder one.” He grinds himself against you.

“What do you want?”

“To know what your insides feel like.” You suck in a deep breath and register the smell of weed as his cock twitches against your bare skin. “When I’m awake,” he adds. 

He pries your legs apart with his knee, then his glove brushes your inner thighs as he aligns his cock at your entrance. “Oh you’re ready ready,” he says. He notches himself with the thick head of his cock resting snug against your wet little hole, then he holds you tight and shoves himself into you with a sigh.  You have to try not to moan with the most welcome stretch. “Hell yeah,” the mask says into your ear. Thank God you’re so wet, because there is a lot of him. He pulls back, then slams into you, bottoming out with a grunt then another sigh. You watch your face in the mirror and try to wipe the enjoyment off it. 

The hand with the knife rests against your chest as he pounds you. “You’re lucky you’re so hot.” You want to memorize the feeling of his cock inside you so you can come to it later instead of giving him the satisfaction right now.  He pants as he thrusts into you harder.  “So. . .damn. . . hot.” You look down watching your breasts jiggle as he rails you. “I don’t think so. . . baby.” He grabs your chin and makes you look back up at the mirror. Your drooping eyelids give away how good you feel. 

“Take it like a bad girl.” He grunts and brutally fucks you in the way you’re afraid only he can. No, no, you shouldn’t be thinking thoughts like this. “A real bad girl.” A climax is gathering in your lower belly.  “Cock hungry little slut,” he bites and it makes you twitch. “This pussy’s mine now, you know.” 

He buries himself inside you for another minute and makes it rough. “Now or never baby," he pants. “Know you wanna come on this cock.” God, you do. “Do it now.”  He slams into you harder than ever and groans as he begins to pulse inside you.  You can’t stop it. The feeling of his climax trips you into your own.  Your needy cunt chokes his cock, milking him of an unfathomable load.  He fucks you through it and your body jerks into his imposing, robed form. His cum is in every crevice of your core.  You can’t help but moan and sigh.

“Good girl,” he says.

His cock slides out of you, leaving a void that slowly caves in on itself. He tucks it back into his pants. 

------

Ghostface forcibly positions your chin to take one last look in the mirror. Then he picks up your phone from the counter and forces you to swipe the camera on.  He points it at the mirror and says, “say cheese.” He tosses your phone back on the counter, then slams you chest-first into the back of the door with an impact. He holds the knife to the side of your neck and says, “you’re welcome.” He really smells like weed.

“Now where’s my knife.”

“I don’t have it,” you claim. 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“What’s so special about it?”

“It’s mine.” 

“The cops have it.” 

“No they don’t. Why are you lying?”

You’re not really sure. He presses the flat of the knife so hard against your throat you start to choke. “Okay,” you manage hoarsely. He lets you breathe.  You look behind him toward the toilet. 

He drags you by the elbow to the toilet. He opens the back of it and the knife is wrapped up in a grocery bag. “You watch too many movies,” he says. He pushes you out of the way, opens the door, and leaves. The song turns to Call Me by Blondie.

NEXT: PART 3

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

Please engage (reblog/comment)  if you want more of this <333 It might go a long way in motivation.

Yes this is my night walks coded ghostface but I think most people reading this don't know what night walks is lol.

Call Me:This Blog::Red Right Hand:Canon. But in this case it especially makes sense 🥹

@hearteyed-shawty had a song rec last time: I'm Yours by Isabel Derosa.

Slasher master list

@ghostslittlegf @sunflowerleii @igotmajordaddyissues @rileyquinn07

[happy74827]

A Smile From Hell

[Homelander x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Despite the amount of unpredictability The Homelander has, he still catches you off guard with something as small as a smile.

WC: 3576

Category: Angst, Supe!Reader {TW — Homelander for obvi reasons}

In honor of Season 4’s weekly releases, this one is for the Antony Starr girlies (and you @summerrivera777777)

『••✎••』

John fucking terrified you.

He terrified everyone, really.

He had the power to level an entire city block with a glance. He was strong enough to crush a man's skull with one hand and fast enough to catch a bullet. He was an unstoppable force of nature. He was The Homelander, and he was a threat to anyone who stood in his way.

But, the thing was...

You knew everything about him. Everything.

And he absolutely despised that, but there was nothing he could do to change it. You had seen him at his most vulnerable and pathetic. You had seen his humanity, it’s amazing he still has any after the way Vought has abused him, and you had seen his inhumanity.

Jessica, or Sister Sage, had confronted you on several occasions, trying to get you to tell her your secrets. She wanted the upper hand on her arch nemesis, the only one in the world who was a threat to her. It was her mission to end the reign of the superhero she hated most, and she was willing to do anything for it.

You could see right through her, and you didn’t need magnificent amounts of intelligence to do so. You could see the fear in her eyes. You could see the doubt in her face, hear the strain in her voice, feel her uneasiness when she was near him.

John knew it, too. He just simply chose to ignore it. He had grown used to being the scariest man in the room. It’s been that way his whole life, and it seemed it was going to stay that way.

But, despite all that fear, she came to you for answers. Again.

And this time, the question was a simple one. It was so simple, yet completely understandably complicated.

How are you allowed to live?

That was a question that stumped you. It took you a long time to grasp the meaning of it, the specific answer she was looking for.

After a few clarifications, you finally understood what she meant.

She wanted to know why John allowed you to live. She wanted to know why he hadn’t killed you. She wanted to understand why you were the only person alive after calling him by his name.

Not his stage name, his real name.

For being the most intelligent person on the planet, you’d think that she’d be able to understand it. I mean, the answer was right there, in front of her face. She didn't need to be a genius to figure it out; all she needed was a little more insight.

A little bit of understanding.

"Respect," you said, your voice soft. Your words were clear, though, and she heard them perfectly.

The confusion on her face was evident, as was her disbelief.

"What?"

"It's respect. Anyone I respect is someone that deserves my respect."

She snorted.

"Right," she said. "Like he could actually respect anything other than himself."

"He's capable of it if that's what you're thinking," you told her. "And this isn’t about him respecting me; it's about me respecting him."

She narrowed her eyes at you, her suspicion rising.

"Why would you respect him?" she questioned. "You're not blind; you know exactly who he is."

Yes, you did. You knew more than most, and compared to The Seven now, you probably knew the most. His actions? Completely unredeemable. He was, in fact, a monster; there was no arguing that. He was a horrible, twisted, monstrous individual; no one would deny it.

His actions weren’t excusable, but he had an explanation. A reason for why he was the way he was.

He wasn’t born a monster; he was turned into one. That… that was the respect part. You respected him because you respected his story. You respected his pain. You respected his anger.

You respected his past; anything after that was on him.

"I don’t like using stage names to those I respect enough, so I call him John. He allows it because he knows I don’t mean it the way others would if they used his name; it doesn't hold the same power with me."

She rolled her eyes at you.

"Same goes for you, Jessica; I have no desire to call you Sister Sage."

Her flinch was barely visible, but you still caught it. Again, what is intelligence if not knowing the chances of a particular outcome?

"I’ve noticed you don’t call Deep or that fire chick by their real names."

You just smiled, leaving her to solve that answer for herself, and it didn’t take long at all. You knew the exact moment she came up with a conclusion. She was quite predictable, in that regard. Maybe you should’ve been the big-brained hero instead.

And now, you really should’ve been because when you turned down the hall, catching wind of the elevator doors opening, you knew he had listened to it all.

But you didn’t say anything, and you really didn’t say anything after a simple glance at him.

He was completely drenched in blood, a look that would terrify even the toughest of men. But not you, oh no, you were very used to that. He’s done a lot worse.

Besides, you were too distracted by the fact that the blood wasn't his. Too distracted by noticing how this time was different. He was smiling, but it wasn’t his usual cruel smile. This time, it was genuinely happy.

Relief, almost.

It reminded you of the night you two bonded. No, not that type of bond. The bond that told you both that you weren’t alone.

He had a friend, but he wasn’t really your friend. You don’t believe you could ever consider him one. Not really, not with the things he has done.

But, still, you were the closest thing he had to a friend. You were the closest he had to an equal, a person he could relate to. Jessica carried the same intelligence (obviously a lot more), but the similarities between the two of them stopped there.

You had a similar history but different outcomes.

And that reveal between the two of you happened that night. This was way back, even before Starlight joined. Back when The Seven was in its prime.

Stillwell threw a party, something she always loved to do before Teddy became her focus. It was the usual: people in fancy dresses and suits, lots of champagne and liquor.

The difference, however, was the main focal point. Usually, given Vought’s status, all of The Seven members were the main event. Everyone was mandated to wear their hero outfits. It was a great way to advertise and get people to buy more of the products.

The theme this time, however, wasn’t about the group. It wasn’t about any of you. For the first time in a long while, John wasn’t in the spotlight.

Due to this, Stillwell banned everyone from wearing their costumes. No capes, no spandex, no leather, no masks. Just suits and dresses.

It was nice, actually. A little break from the norm. It felt good to go a night without the tight leather on your skin. You were actually surprised at how well it was received.

The rest of the members of the group seemed to be having a wonderful time as well.

Except for one.

He was standing in the corner, glaring at everyone. Madelyn had an entire argument with him about the suit. You weren’t there, but you knew exactly how it went.

His costume was a part of him. It was a symbol. It was a mask. A representation. An embodiment of who he was. Without it, he was a naked target.

Madelyn clearly did not give a single shit. In the end, the argument resulted in the two of them getting into a screaming match, causing him to storm off in a fit of rage.

So, there he was, standing alone, seething at anyone who passed him. Madelyn won; of course, she did, and she didn't even bother trying to apologize. She wasn't sorry.

She was just mad that he refused to listen in the first place.

But, hey, that wasn’t your problem. You were enjoying yourself. The night was going pretty well; the alcohol was flowing nicely, and the music was just right. You were dancing and laughing and having a great time.

But, of course, things weren't always easy for you.

You weren’t expecting it to last long; you weren’t one to have good luck. You knew, deep down, that the night was going to come crashing down on you. You were just waiting for the ball to drop.

The ball dropped the moment you decided to go cheer up the sourpuss.

It was obvious the way his shoulders tensed, and his head tilted ever so slightly. He knew you were approaching. He was aware.

"Don't," he said.

He was clearly angry, and you weren’t smart enough not to push. This is where Jessica’s powers would have benefited you greatly.

You ignored his warning, walking up beside him, mocking his stance.

"You okay?" you asked, your tone soft and light, a hint of playfulness.

His eyes flicked over to you, and the glare he gave was terrifying. His eyes were so intense, and his teeth were clenched. You could see his jaw tensing.

He was a volcano, ready to erupt.

You could practically see the steam coming out of his ears.

"I'm fine." Humorously enough, it sounded like the opposite.

"Really?"

He turned his head to look at you, his anger increasing by the second.

"Don’t you have anything better to do?"

You shrugged. "Yeah, but I'm choosing to talk to you."

He looked away from you, grumbling, "And why's that?"

"Because you’re ruining the party," you answered. "Miserable face and all."

He rolled his eyes. He actually does this a lot, believe it or not. It's the only expression he has besides anger that isn’t fake.

"And why do you care?"

You shrugged again. "I care about enjoying myself, and I can't do that when you're moping."

He turned his head towards you. He was not amused.

"Go find someone else to entertain yourself with.” He pointed behind him. "I’m sure Deep will be glad to show off his fish facts."

That one caused you to make the same face he had moments ago. The absolute look of disgust on your face was enough to bring a smug grin to his own.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Don't make me throw up, John."

The name.

It was a simple slip-up, nothing more. But, of course, it meant so much more. This was before everything, so it doesn’t seem likely that a slip-up like that wouldn’t result in consequences, but it secretly was a turning point.

He could've killed you.

He could've easily grabbed you and thrown you across the room, and no one would be able to comprehend what had happened until after you were unrecognizable.

He didn't, though.

No, instead, he stared at you, his face blank, and his mind processing. You were nervous, of course. You had no idea what was going on in his head.

After a minute, a look of realization came upon him, and you could see the exact moment the gears started turning.

Then, a simple hum fell from his lips. One said he wasn’t expecting it but was deciding whether to accept it.

Then, after a few seconds, his face relaxed. His jaw was unclenched, his eyes softened, and his eyebrows relaxed.

"Let’s have a chat."

Uh oh. That’s a code red—a sign of danger.

You were so done.

And yet, for some odd reason, you followed him. You don’t know why. It was a stupid move, in your opinion. You should've run while you had the chance. You should’ve listened and just punched fishlips or something.

You didn’t, though.

You followed him, allowed him to fly you somewhere private, and just waited. You waited for your imminent doom. You were going to die; you were sure of it.

But, for some reason, your death never came.

Instead, the two of you landed on the tower’s roof, the cold New York air hitting you hard. He had set you down on your feet and went all the way to the railing.

You stood awkwardly, waiting for him to turn around with those beams in his eyes, but they never came.

He was just looking out into the city, his back turned to you, his hands on the railing.

After a few minutes of silence, he turned his head, looking at you through the corner of his eye.

"Aren't you going to ask?"

Ask what? What was there to ask?

There were plenty of things to ask, actually, and yet you had no idea what the right thing to ask was. Because, again, even here, he was unpredictable and unreadable.

You didn't want to anger him; you knew that for sure. But you were also tired of his mind games. It was a constant battle of wit, and you were sick and tired of being left in the dust.

So, you chose something simple to say. Something easy, yet not so simple to answer.

"Are you going to kill me?"

You wouldn’t be surprised if he turned around with a smile and answered yes.

He didn’t, though. Oh no, he stayed turned, staring into the city, his eyes searching. Searching for what you didn't know.

"No."

Simple and clear.

You didn't respond, and he didn't elaborate. It was silent, and it was cold, and it was a tense moment.

But you didn't leave. You just watched him, watched his movements. The way his shoulders hunched over, his head tilting down, the grips on the railing, the way his hair slowly became unstuck due to the wind.

You always thought his hair looked better when it wasn't slicked back, but this is the first time you've ever seen it that way. It was… it was nice.

Then, his shoulders relaxed, and his head straightened. He didn’t turn around, and he didn’t speak. He just looked over his shoulder at you, his eyes piercing yours.

Even with a few strands of hair on his face, his eyes were so sharp and clear. So blue. So cold.

It felt like they were reaching deep into your soul.

It was terrifying. He was terrifying.

"Do you remember your parents?"

The question took you by surprise. It wasn’t what you were expecting, but then again, this whole encounter was the definition of unexpected.

"Yes. Why?"

His eyes scanned yours as if looking for a lie. Then, he turned back around, leaning on the railing.

"I can't remember mine," he said. "Sometimes I wonder if I even had them."

Oh. Oh. This was huge. This was a big one. You had to search deeply even to find out his actual name. Now, here he was, telling you of his past.

Of all people, he chose to tell you.

You didn’t know how to feel about that.

You were honored, yes. You were excited, definitely. But, most importantly, you were worried. Is this him letting you in? Or is it him preparing you for your demise?

It was an unknown territory, a field of landmines. You knew a lot about his past already, but now he was aware of the fact that you knew. He knows, and yet he is still giving you the information.

Why?

"I mean, it doesn't make sense. Everyone has parents, right? And I couldn't have been born out of nowhere. So, I must have had parents. A mom, a dad, some form of guardians."

His face was scrunched, and his eyebrows were furrowed. You could see the way his brain was working. He was really thinking about it, wondering how the pieces fit together.

He was struggling to make a connection, and he was mad at himself for not having it.

"I'm assuming your childhood wasn't the best," you said. You knew it was a risky move, joking about his past, but so far, he seemed to like the boldness and humor.

And he did, in fact, let out a snort.

"Understatement of the year."

You smiled but quickly stopped. It was a serious conversation, and smiling probably wasn’t the appropriate reaction.

Silence filled the space again, and he was back to thinking. He was trying; he was really trying. But he just couldn't.

It wasn't the fact that his parents were a mystery; he's come to terms with that. It was the fact that he couldn’t remember anything.

All he remembered was the torture, the pain, the experiments… nothing about how he got there. Nothing about the people before the scientists. Nothing about a home. And the fact that they were currently building a fake one for him made him so angry.

It was a mockery—a complete joke.

He felt all of these emotions and yet couldn't express them.

And he was frustrated. He was pissed off and tired and angry and sad and empty and-

"Did you rip off your tie?" Your eyes had caught sight of his bare neck, the black fabric missing.

It was the only way to pull him out of his head, and, to your surprise, it worked. You could see the moment he snapped back to reality, the moment he was pulled away from his mind.

"Yeah," he answered. "It was suffocating me."

You could tell.

His hair became more unkempt due to the wind. The strands of hair on his forehead were getting in the way, and it was getting annoying. Not for you, no, but for him.

For you, it was… humanizing. It made him seem a little less like a god.

He lifted his hand, his fingers gently combing through the locks. It was a struggle, a normal struggle that you've had with your own hair.

Plenty struggle with deviating the locks away from their desired location. You've had your own fair share of moments.

But this was the first time you'd seen him experience it. The first time witnessing him do something so simple and basic.

Such a human thing. It had you wondering what else he was capable of.

He sighed, his hand dropping back to the railing. Again, it is a normal thing to happen. But, it had you smiling, the corners of your mouth curving ever so slightly.

The action did not go unnoticed.

"What?" he asked, not even bothering to turn around.

You shrugged. "I've just never…"

Your mind kept changing images. His hair, his eyes, his shoulders, his jaw, his nose, his ears, his neck, his hand, his lips, his chin, his cheekbones, his eyebrows, his skin…

Everything is listed in your mind, including the little imperfections and details that make him, well, him. This was the first time you saw him anything other than perfect.

The perfect monster he was, the god of all men. The man of the century, the one to take the world by storm. The strongest, the smartest, the best.

The symbol, the image, the mask.

The facade.

This was the first time you saw him as just a person. A human being. Just a regular guy.

"Sometimes I wonder how different life would be if you were…"

Normal.

The word was at the tip of your tongue. You could've said it; you should've said it. It was the truth. It was obvious.

But you couldn't.

He knew where your sentence was going, though. Of course, he did.

"If I was… what?" He still wanted to hear it. He was looking for validation, and he wanted it from you. His eyes were on you, his body turned, but there was this one odd thing.

A smile.

It wasn't his usual one. The one you were used to. The one that made everyone scared and uneasy. No, this was a real smile.

A soft, small one, but still a real smile.

A true smile. As if he knew the words you were going to say, as if he knew your thoughts, and he found them amusing.

You found him amusing.

And just because of that, you didn’t give him the validation.

"It’s fucking freezing out here," You coughed in hopes of successfully changing the subject. "I’m gonna get a jacket."

He was going to argue, but you were already walking off, telling him you’d take the emergency ladder down.

Nothing was spoken about that night. No words were exchanged.

But something had changed. Something had shifted. You weren’t quite sure what it was, but it was something.

So, seeing that genuine smile again in that elevator was a shock.

He had the same face as he did on that roof. It was that smile. That one specific smile.

Capable.

That's what it was.

He was capable.

He was capable of feeling and being human. He was capable of being something other than a monster.

He was capable.

All he said to you when you walked by was a simple goodnight. Something so small, yet so big. This time, those words seemed to have a little more meaning.

So, just to raise his unsettling mood, you winked and said, "Goodnight, John."

Again, a smile.

The smile.

It was hard to continue walking, and it was even harder not to turn around. But you did.

You did it knowing you were going to have a hard time sleeping. Knowing that, no matter what, you weren’t going to forget that smile.

The demon that still had a little bit of humanity in him.

A demon that was capable.

[bebx]

“enemies to lovers as a fictional trope is harmful because it normalizes and romanticizes abuse and toxicity” my brother in Christ, touch. grass. they fuck while trying to murder each other and also they use each other’s blood as lube and yeah they look hot as fuck. what are you going to do about it?

[writerstruggle]

i don't know what canon is. just tumblr and ao3 ❤️

[fallin2pieces]

let's get in the back of your cop car, officer (charlie swan x coquette!reader)

heavily inspired by playing dangerous by lana del rey <33

cw: MDNI age gap (reader is a freshman in college and charlie is in his 40s), dubcon, p in v, dry humping, blowjob, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it..), cunnilingus, choking

authors note: this is my first ever fic! also sorry for the inconsistencies, english isn't my first language :( also lmao this was supposed to be a blurb but i got carried away 😭

- your parents were away for a business trip which left you home alone during break. you always had the nasty habit of smoking, and being home alone it was an opportunity to smoke inside your house.

- as you were cooking dinner, you were smoking in your kitchen, using your stove top to light a cigarette.

- you lazily dragged the cigarette across your lips, inhaling the smoke as you sat on your kitchen countertop.

- as the night progressed, you washed the dishes and got ready for bed

- little did you know, you've accidentally left the stove on.

- 4:38am. “fuck.” you woke up disheveled in your pink silky night gown, coughing as smoke covered your walls, filling your lungs.

- crying as you run down your stairs, you’ve realized what you’ve done.

- shakily, you reach for the family phone by your paisley printed couch and started to dial the police department as guilt engulfs you.

- “forks police department!” an older man on the other side of the phone responds. you knew it was wrong. you knew it was insensitive. maybe you were just a girl but something about the rasp and the timbre in the policeman’s voice made your insides turn.

- later on, you were sitting on your porch, the cold washington rain dampening the steps you sit on, your hair wet, lips and eyes puffy as you cry from guilt.

- a car pulls up in your driveway as a tall dark figure approaches you

- “ma'am you called, are you okay?” the same hoarse voice from the phone asks.

- you just start sobbing. you were guilty. you’ve already damaged your parents’ house.

- as the older man approaches you, he sits down at the porch with you to comfort you.

- as he sits down the smell of cigarettes and cheap perfume engulfs your senses.

- you look up at the police officer, he was even more attractive (and mature) than you imagined.

- this is wrong. you thought this isn’t the right situation to whore around.

- “i-i didn’t mean to do that officer..” you croak out, you started sobbing and he puts his arm around you

- “my name is chief swan. would you wanna sit in the car as i question you?” he asks.

- you nod rapidly as you got up and walked towards the backseat of the car. "this is the right opportunity" your mind lingered.

- “so what caused the fire?” his voice reverberating inside the empty police car as he closes the car door.

- you admit what you’ve done, stuttering and stuttering through tears.

- he just looks at you "oh poor you so alone and fragile." he thought after all you were just a girl and you didn’t mean any of this

- “officer is there anyway that you wouldn’t press charges?” you looked at him with hungry and intent eyes.

- you felt pretty bare right now. in your light pink nighties. the way he was taller, bigger and had more authority than you do… oh you felt so weak, like a bunny waiting for its predator to attack.

- as messed up as it sounds, this made you feel very warm and fuzzy, his presence made you warm and fuzzy. the way his mustache sits on his face and how his messy brown hair stands up, he looks a little sleep deprived and tired, probably from his police job. he’s just a little older than your parents. just perfect, you thought to yourself.

- you’ve never been attracted to a man his age but something about him being an authority figure made you insides turn in excitement, which made you yearn for more.

- “please officer..” you plead as you get on your knees, very intent to seduce the older man.

- he groans at the sight of you. “no no, sweetie we can’t-” he breathes out as he adjusts himself to try to hide the obvious tent in his pants.

- “officer i’ll be good i promise… just don’t press any charges on me…” you mumbled. it’s working you thought as your manicured hands fumble with his silver belt buckle

- “oh my sweet sweet girl.” he groans as he cups your sweet face as his thumb plays with your pink plush lips as he inserts his digits in your mouth making you moan around his fingers.

- “i shouldn’t be doing this.” charlie thought to himself

- you adjust yourself from kneeling, the roughness of the police car’s floormat bruising and ever so slightly scraping your delicate knees

- you use your teeth to unzip his pants as your eyes never leaved his, his hands cupping your face as he tucks your hair away.

- as you palm him through his boxers, wetness pools in your floral underwear.

- eager for some friction, you decided to use your fingers to press on your clothed cunt.

- as you fumble on his waistband, his cock still soft you whimper at the sight of his size.

- oh poor man.. you thought he was probably so pent up, no one probably took care of his sexual needs :(

- you start kissing on his cock sweetly as you look up at him..

- oh the way he stares down at you makes you feel inferior, you moan at the thought.

- slowly, you put his cock in your mouth.

- starting slow… going deeper and deeper you grow desperate for pleasure of your own

- he groans at the sight of you… so cockdrunk.. so needy for him.. it’s been years since someone wanted him this bad.

- “you’re such a good girl for me.” charlie manages to groan out, he holds you by your throat forcing you to look up

- picking up the pace, you moan and gag around his length sending him over the edge.

- he notices you yearn for attention down there :( so he signals you to stop and he instructs you to straddle him.

- with his cock out, you straddle him, kissing him hungrily as your clothed cunt pressed against his bare girth.

- as you took in his tongue, the taste of gas station coffee and cigarettes intertwined with your saliva.

- he eventually starts creeping his calloused hands to your ass, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh as he rides your nightie up making you whimper and soften into his touch.

- as he finds his rough hands up and down your body, he fondles with your breasts, nipples erect from the cold washington breeze, the straps of your nightgown falling to the side as he takes your tits out to look at them.

- oh they were so perky and so soft. he made his way down with his mouth, lapping at your soft skin, eventually finding his tongue wrapped around your sensitive nipple.

- you throw your head back moaning at the pleasure he gave you, rocking back and forth slowly finding some friction as your baby pink painted nails dug crescents into his shoulder.

- he reaches down, to lift the skirt of your nightie, reaching down to your panty clad cunt, taking his thumb and firmly tracing circles on your clit.

- you elicit a moan and collapse into him, his big strong arms supporting you as you reach your high.

- suddenly you felt brave, you pull your panties to the side and you sink down to him.

- “n-no sweetie we can’t-” he whimpers out as you lower into him, as he throws his head back.

- “please officer let me be good.. let me be a good girl..” you cry out in desperation for some relief.

- you just sat there, letting your tight cunt adjust around his big cock your as he wraps his big strong arms around you.

- “baby.. your cunt is so tight.. fuck—” he pants out while looking at your beautiful face.

- you weren’t that experienced per se… only being a freshman in college, having one night stands with guys your age that you barely even know who treat you with only lust no love, but with chief swan, it felt intimate and romantic. the way he holds you and kisses you made you melt into his arms. it made you feel like you were cared for.

- slowly but surely you went up and down, savoring his length, you’ve never had someone this.. big and girthy (and mature).

- charlie being on the older side, didn’t have enough stamina, so you were using him like a dildo over bouncing up and down his cock as you looked at how his face was painted with pleasure.

- he looks at you with so much lust and love in his eyes, he haven’t had someone take care of him like this for years.

- he pressed his calloused thumb on your clit rubbing circles making you see stars.

- this was the most pleasure you’ve received from a man.

- “such a good girl for me, taking my cock like this, don’t worry i won’t give you charges princess, no one has to know. ” he looks at you firmly.

- you shake uncontrollably. poor girl can’t take all that cock inside of her :(

- you were making his pants all wet from your juices, all the mixed sensations of him nipping at your soft skin, his thumb pressed to your clit and his cock in you was enough to send you over the edge.

- “fuckfuckfuck-” you whimper out as you come undone on him, your cunt fluttering around his fat cock.

- “you’re doing so good for me.” he says as he carries your waist up as he thrusts inside you and spills his cum inside of you.

- he quickly pulls out, pushing you to lay down on the car seat.

- chief swan got on his knees, pulls you panties to the side and started lapping at your freshly fucked cunt, his mustache tickling your clit as his mouth worked on you.

- you squeezed your legs together, pinning his head steady between your legs as he overstimulated you, as you squirm and pull on his hair.

- he suddenly knelt up, slapping his cock on your clothed cunt, rubbing it up and down your slit.

- your eyes roll back so far back it felt like you could see the back of your skull.

- “officer please-” you moaned out, chest heaving. everything about him was intoxicating. you fucking in a police car only added to the thrill, the scent of sex and his cheap cologne filled your lungs.

- “please what? use your words sweetheart.” he said between groans, as he held your chin with one hand so you could make eye contact with him.

- his thrusts became more erratic and his hips stuttered.

- “please cum on my face officer..” you said embarrassed. you couldn’t believe this filth was coming out your mouth.

- he knelt up, rapidly stroking his length as his seed painted your delicate face.

- meeting chief swan was definitely an experience.

happy father’s day to all my dilfs out there