#but again I don’t know business so I don’t know if this is the case | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dippindaz · 3 days ago

Note

Would you be willing to do a Billy x Reader (Eddie’s younger sister/sibling). I just feel that Billy and Eddie would hate each other so the dynamics could be fun to play with. Is Y/n just like Eddie or quiet and a bookworm? I feel liked they’d have the same curly hair, maybe same eye colour. I listened to something similar on YT recently, thought it was cool.

thanks xx

Of course!! And I definitely think they have the same hair, no way you escape those curls.

I uh—I also got a little carried away with brainstorming an idea for this request so this is gonna be a multi-part thing now!! lol, I hope you all enjoy. (Also If you'd like this request to be executed differently as I know I went a little off the rails with it, I'd be more than happy to do it just send in another ask if that's the case :) )

Masterlist here

Mentions of drug baggies and Billy being Billy, (I think) are the only necessary warnings.

The trailer door creaked as it swung open, and Billy stepped inside without hesitation, letting it fall shut behind him. The place was dimly lit, cluttered with old magazines, half-empty beer cans, and random junk Eddie never bothered to clean up. Typical. Billy barely glanced at the mess, his attention locked on the guy slouched on the couch, counting out a handful of baggies like it was just another boring Tuesday.

Eddie barely spared him a glance. “You’re early.”

Billy shrugged, smirking as he leaned against the doorframe. “And you’re slow.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, tossing one of the baggies onto the table. “Gimme a sec. Gotta grab something from the van.” He pushed himself up with a grunt, shoving past Billy and out the door without another word.

Billy let out a scoff, but as his eyes flicked around the room, they landed on someone else—someone unexpected.

Sitting cross-legged in the recliner across the room, nose buried in a dog-eared paperback, was you. Eddie’s little sister. He’d seen you around school before, always on the outskirts, never in the thick of things. You had that same wild hair as Eddie, though without the dramatics. Quieter. More reserved. Talking was Eddie’s thing.

Billy tilted his head, a slow grin creeping onto his face.

“Well, shit,” he drawled. “Didn’t peg Munson for the type to keep secrets.”

You didn’t look up. “Didn’t peg you for the type to knock.”

Billy chuckled, stepping further inside. “I don’t. Doors open for me.” His voice was thick with arrogance, the kind that made most girls stumble over themselves. You just turned a page.

“Huh.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, studying you. “Didn’t know Munson had a sister. Guess you don’t get out much.” He did know, he just wanted to jab at you, you were sure.

This time, you did glance up, just briefly. “Or maybe you just don’t pay attention.”

Billy grinned. “Oh, I’m paying attention now.”

He let that hang in the air, watching for a reaction. Most girls at school either giggled around him or avoided him like the plague. You just seemed… uninterested.

Before he could push further, the door swung open again, and Eddie stomped back inside.

“Alright, let’s wrap this up,” Eddie muttered, tossing another baggie onto the pile. Then his eyes landed on Billy—no, on the space between Billy and you.

His expression darkened instantly. “The hell are you doin’ talking to my sister, Hargrove?”

Billy didn’t take his eyes off you. “Didn’t realize she needed permission to talk.”

Eddie grabbed the baggies, shoving them into Billy’s hand. “Yeah, well, now you know. So don’t.”

Billy smirked, slow and taunting, before finally tearing his gaze away from you. He lifted the baggies in a lazy salute. “Pleasure doin’ business, Munson.” Then, with one last glance at you, he strolled out, whistling under his breath.

As soon as the door shut behind him, Eddie spun around. “Don’t talk to him.”

You rolled your eyes. “I know who he is, Eddie.”

“Then you should know better.”

You sighed, waving him off. It annoyed you, but you were used to Eddie’s protective side. “It’s not like I’m gonna fall for him or something. He’s just a guy.”

Eddie scoffed. “Yeah. A guy who’s bad news.”

You just shook your head. It didn’t matter. A crush was harmless, right?

Harmless.

Right.

———————————————————————————

Later the next day you find yourself being dragged to the arcade with the kids. Arcades were okay, a bit too loud and overwhelming for you, but you’d go if it made the buttheads smile. The bells above the arcade door jingle as Dustin and the others rush inside, already chattering about high scores and token strategies. You’re about to follow when a voice stops you in your tracks.

“Didn’t take you for the arcade type, Munson.”

You freeze for half a second before turning, already bracing yourself.

Billy Hargrove is leaning against the side of his Camaro, cigarette dangling from his lips, one arm draped lazily over the car door. The setting sun glints off his silver chain, making the smirk on his face look even more infuriating.

You school your expression. “Not often.”

Billy exhales a slow stream of smoke, eyes dragging over you with interest. “Then what’s the occasion?”

You cross your arms. “Why do you care?”

His smirk deepens. “Just makin’ conversation, sweetheart.”

You glance over your shoulder, where the kids disappeared inside. A distraction would be nice right about now. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be? Maybe a mirror to admire yourself in?”

Billy chuckles, pushing off the car. “That was the plan,” he admits, taking another drag. “Then I saw you.”

You roll your eyes. “Lucky me.”

Billy grins like you just handed him a prize. “Yeah, lucky you.”

You shift on your feet, debating if this conversation is even worth the effort. But Billy takes another step forward, the amusement in his eyes sharpening like he’s enjoying every second of this.

“Y’know,” he muses, tipping his head, “didn’t expect Eddie’s little sister to be so—” He drags his gaze over you, slow and deliberate. “—cute.”

Your breath hitches before you can stop it, and heat creeps up your neck.

Billy notices. Of course he does.

“Not much of a talker, huh?” he teases. “That’s alright. I like a challenge.”

You force out a scoff, hoping it covers the way your pulse kicks up. “You’re wasting your time.”

Billy flicks the ash from his cigarette, watching you like he’s already decided that’s not true. “Nah. I don’t think so.” He takes another lazy step closer, lowering his voice just slightly. “I bet if I asked real nice, you’d keep me company.”

You narrow your eyes. “Why would I do that?”

His smirk curves into something slower, more deliberate. “Because you’re curious.”

Your stomach flips.

And he’s right.

Before you can decide whether to snap back or just ignore him, the arcade door swings open, and Lucas steps outside. He barely glances at Billy, his focus locking onto you instead.

“You coming?” he asks, eyebrows raised.

You exhale, grateful for the interruption. “Yeah.”

Billy’s smirk lingers as you turn away. “See you around, Munson.”

You don’t look back.

But even as you step inside, you can still feel his eyes on you.

———————————————————————————

You didn’t see Billy for the rest of the weekend, and though you saw him today you thankfully hadn’t talked to him. Only issue? He’s in your class. You’ve been keeping your head down, eyes glued to your notebook, willing yourself to focus. The teacher is droning on about something—probably the Cold War, or maybe Nixon—but it’s hard to tell over the sound of Billy Hargrove’s constant, low-voiced disruptions from the seat beside you.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmurs, leaning in slightly. “You don’t have to pretend to be so into this. Bet you’d have way more fun if you—”

You don’t give him the satisfaction of looking at him. “Shut up, Hargrove.”

He lets out a short, amused chuckle, unfazed. “Feisty,” he muses. “I like it.”

You grip your pencil tighter, refusing to take the bait. He’d started this the second he strolled into class late and took the empty seat next to you. Just your luck. You weren’t sure if he even belonged in this class or if he just did whatever he wanted and no one stopped him.

Billy shifts again, slouching in his chair, twirling a pen between his fingers. “You know, ignorin' me doesn’t make me go away.”

“No, but it makes me feel better.”

His lips twitch into a smirk. “That so?”

You don’t answer. Across the room, your teacher gives an exhausted sigh, rubbing his temples. “Mr. Hargrove, unless you’re going to contribute something insightful, I suggest you keep quiet.”

Billy raises his hands in mock innocence. “Just tryin’ to have a conversation, sir.”

The class snickers, but you just exhale slowly, willing the clock to move faster.

By the time the bell rings, you’re out of your seat in an instant, shoving your books into your bag as fast as humanly possible. But you should’ve known better.

Billy’s already leaning against the lockers when you reach yours, arms crossed, that same smug smirk playing at his lips.

“You always this fun, or just in class?”

You glance at him briefly, but you don’t stop twisting your locker dial. “What do you want?”

“What, can’t a guy say hi?”

You roll your eyes, pulling the door open. “Hi. Bye.”

Billy doesn’t move. If anything, he seems more amused. “Eddie put you up to this?” he asks, tilting his head. “The whole avoiding-me-like-the-plague thing?”

You huff, shoving your books inside. “No one has to tell me to avoid you.”

“Ah.” Billy nods, like that confirms something. “Right. So you just listen to every word your big brother says?”

“I have my own brain, thanks.”

“Yeah?” He leans in a little, and for the first time, you hesitate. He notices. “So what’s stoppin' you?”

You blink. “Stopping me from what?”

“From having a real conversation with me.”

You scoff, slamming your locker shut. “Maybe I just don’t want to.”

Billy studies you, eyes flicking over your face, your stiff posture, the way your fingers tighten around the strap of your bag. He smirks—but it’s different this time. Less cocky. More… calculating.

And that’s what makes your stomach twist.

Billy Hargrove was a lot of things—reckless, arrogant, charming when it suited him—but he wasn’t aimless. If he was talking to you, pushing your buttons, keeping you on edge, it was because he wanted something. And Billy Hargrove always got what he wanted.

But why you?

That was the part that didn’t make sense. You weren’t stupid. You knew what people like him were like, knew the way he treated girls at school—like conquests, like challenges, like something to pass the time. You’d spent years keeping your head down, staying out of the drama, and ever since he moved to Hawkins, out of his orbit, and yet now, for some reason, he had decided to step into yours.

And the worst part?

A tiny, traitorous part of you didn’t entirely hate it.

Billy watches you carefully, waiting for something—a crack, a slip, a reaction he can use. When you don’t give him one, he exhales, clicking his tongue. “Shame.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What is?”

“That you’re so damn stubborn.” He takes a step back, like he’s already won something. “But don’t worry, sweetheart. Like I said, I enjoy a challenge.”

You roll your eyes, pushing past him without another word.

Billy chuckles under his breath as he watches you walk away.

You shake off the lingering feeling of Billy’s eyes on you as you weave through the crowded hallway. The last thing you need is to be thinking about him, but the interaction still clings to you, like cigarette smoke that won’t wash out.

It doesn’t help that your next class—English—feels like a blur. You’re barely paying attention as you slip into your usual seat near the middle of the room.

“Jesus, you look like you saw a ghost.”

You blink, snapping out of it. Robin Buckley is staring at you from the next desk over, eyebrows raised in amusement. She twirls a pen between her fingers, already halfway slouched in her chair. “Or, like, had an existential crisis in the hallway.”

You snort, rubbing a hand over your face. “More like the second one.”

Robin perks up. “Ooh, do tell.”

You hesitate, but before you can come up with a reason not to, the words are already slipping out. “It’s Billy.”

Her nose wrinkles. “Hargrove?”

“No, Billy Joel,” you deadpan.

Robin shoots you a look. “Okay, first of all, don’t sass me when I’m trying to provide moral support. Second of all, what did he do now?”

You sigh, tapping your fingers against the desk. “Nothing… technically. He just keeps—" You pause, struggling to put it into words. "—I don’t know. Talking to me.”

Robin’s eyes narrow. “Talking how?”

You shift uncomfortably. “Like… I don’t know, like he’s testing me or something. Seeing how much he can get away with.”

Robin hums, tapping her pen against her notebook. “Lemme guess. The classic Hargrove moves? Smirking, standing too close, saying weirdly suggestive things but in that way where if you call him out, he’d act like you’re the crazy one?”

You blink. “Yeah. That’s… disturbingly accurate.”

Robin leans back, shrugging. “I’ve seen him do it before. He’s got a type.”

Your stomach twists slightly at that. “And what’s his type?”

She gives you a knowing look. “Girls he thinks he can mess with.”

You make a face. “Great. Love that for me.”

Robin tilts her head, considering you. “So… what are you gonna do?”

You exhale through your nose. “Ignore him.”

Robin snorts. “Yeah, good luck with that. He’s like a cockroach—impossible to kill and way too smug about it.”

You groan, resting your forehead against your desk. “This is so stupid. Why is he even bothering?”

Robin shrugs. “Could be a few reasons. Maybe he’s bored. Maybe he wants to piss Eddie off.” She pauses, then smirks. “Or maybe he’s just got the hots for you.”

You whip your head up to glare at her. “Shut up.”

Robin grins. “I’m just saying! You’re cute, he’s an asshole—it tracks.”

You roll your eyes, but your face feels warm. “He’s not interested in me. He’s interested in annoying me.”

Robin shrugs. “Eh. Sometimes those things overlap.”

Before you can argue, the teacher calls for everyone’s attention, starting the lesson. You sink lower in your seat, pretending to take notes, but Robin’s words stick with you.

What if she was right?

And worse… what if a tiny, irrational part of you wanted her to be?

The rest of the school day drags, but you do your best to push Billy from your mind. Robin’s words still linger, though—He’s got a type. You tell yourself she’s wrong. That Billy’s just messing with you because he’s bored, because you’re Eddie’s sister, because it entertains him to get under your skin.

But then, like clockwork, he finds you again.

You’re at your locker, swapping out books, when you feel it—someone hovering just close enough to be intentional. You don’t have to look to know who it is.

Billy Hargrove leans casually against the locker beside yours, arms crossed, smirk firmly in place. “Miss me?”

You huff, slamming your locker shut. “Not even a little.”

“Ouch,” he says, pressing a hand to his chest in mock offense. “And here I thought we were bonding.”

You roll your eyes and turn to walk away, but Billy easily matches your pace, strolling beside you down the hall.

“Relax, Munson. I’ll behave,” he promises, voice lighter than before. “Scout’s honor.”

“You were never a Scout.”

He grins. “True. But I’m thinkin’ maybe you don’t hate me as much as you pretend.”

You scoff. “What gave you that idea?”

Billy shrugs. “Just a feeling.” He glances down at you, his smirk shifting into something less predatory, more amused. “So, what do you do for fun, Munson? Besides avoid me, of course.”

You hesitate, caught off guard by the normalcy of the question. “Why do you care?”

“Just tryin’ to figure you out.”

You steal a glance at him, expecting the usual smugness, but for once, he just looks… curious. That’s what makes you pause.

Billy Hargrove doesn’t ask questions just to ask them. Everything he does is deliberate—he pushes, he pulls, he tests the waters. And right now? He’s testing you.

Before you can decide how to respond, the warning bell rings. You pause, gripping the strap of your bag.

Billy clicks his tongue. “Guess you’re off the hook—for now.”

You shake your head, stepping away. “Whatever, Hargrove.”

But really, it wasn’t whatever. You couldn’t lie—to yourself, at least. Since the day Billy appeared in Hawkins, you’d found him attractive. How could you not? But you also knew exactly what he was. Trouble. And you had enough of that in your life. You weren’t interested in being another notch in his bed frame, another girl he’d charm just to discard.

The rest of the school day feels like a blur. You can barely focus on the lessons, your thoughts drifting back to Billy. The way he keeps popping up, his questions that always seem to lead somewhere you’re not quite sure of, the way he looks at you like he knows exactly what buttons to push. By the time the final bell rings, you’re more than ready to leave.

You grab your bag and head out the door, trying to ignore the heavy feeling of being watched. The halls are crowded with students streaming out into the parking lot, eager to start their weekends. But you don’t get far before you feel it—that familiar presence. Someone too close, too intentional.

Billy. Again.

That same infuriating smirk plastered on his face. “Well, well. Fancy seeing you here.”

You exhale sharply. “Yeah, it’s almost like we go to the same school.”

Billy chuckles, pushing off the car to fall into step beside you. “Y’know I like your attitude.”

You shake your head, already regretting engaging, but it doesn’t matter, Billy doesn’t give up easily.

“So,” he says casually, hands slipping into his pockets, “how come I never see you at any of the parties?”

You snort. “Because I don’t go to them?”

“Tragic,” he muses. “You’re really missin’ out.”

“Pretty sure I’m not.”

Billy tilts his head, studying you. “Lemme guess. Not a fan of loud music? Drunk assholes?” His smirk grows. “Or just worried big brother Munson wouldn’t approve?”

You roll your eyes. “You’re obsessed with Eddie, you know that?”

Billy chuckles. “Nah. But it’s fun gettin’ under his skin.”

You scoff, shaking your head as you approach Eddie’s van. Billy follows, stepping in front of you just before you can reach the door. “Y’know,” he muses, “you keep actin’ like you don’t like talkin’ to me, but you never actually tell me to leave.”

Your lips part, but before you can find a response, another voice cuts in.

“What the hell is this?”

Eddie.

He’s standing a few feet away, arms crossed, a deep scowl etched into his face.

Billy grins. “Hey, Munson.”

Eddie ignores him, eyes locked on you. “You good?”

You sigh. “Yeah, Eds. We were just—”

“She was just enjoyin’ my company,” Billy interrupts smoothly, flashing a grin.

Eddie scoffs. “Yeah, sure she was.” He looks at you again, more serious now. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

You huff, glancing between them, then finally step around Billy toward the passenger side of the van.

Billy doesn’t stop you, but as you open the door, he calls after you. “See you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

You don’t respond.

The van door slams shut behind you, and as Eddie pulls out of the parking lot, you can’t help but glance back out the window at Billy’s retreating figure. Something about the way he’s been acting lately nags at you. It’s different from how he’s treated everyone else; he’s not pushing you away, not provoking Eddie, not throwing his usual taunts.

The second Eddie pulls into the street, he lets out a sharp scoff.

“Seriously?” He shoots you a look, eyebrows raised. “Billy Hargrove?”

You roll your eyes, already exhausted. “It’s not like that.”

“Oh, really?” He snorts. “’Cause from where I was standing, it looked an awful lot like he was trying to work his slimy little charm on you.”

You huff, shifting in your seat. “He was just talking, Eddie. You’re acting like I was about to jump into his car.”

Eddie groans, rubbing a hand down his face. “That’s how it starts, dude. First, it’s just talking, then he’s got you riding shotgun in that stupid Camaro, then—” He shudders dramatically. “God, I don’t even wanna think about it.”

You cross your arms. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“No, I’m being smart,” he counters, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “Hargrove’s a dick. And I don’t mean in a ‘he’s kind of an ass but deep down he’s okay’ way. I mean in a ‘he’s a total, no-redeeming-qualities, king-sized douchebag’ way.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, staring out the window.

Eddie sighs, his voice softening just slightly. “Look, I know you think I’m overreacting, but I’m serious, alright? He’s not good news.”

“I know that,” you mutter, because you do. Everyone does.

Eddie shakes his head. “Then why the hell were you even talking to him?”

You hesitate, fingers fiddling with your bag strap. “I dunno. It just… happened.”

Eddie exhales heavily, drumming his fingers against the wheel. “Just promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

“I won’t,” you say automatically.

But something about the way Billy looked at you lingers in the back of your mind. He was charming, you’d give him that.

The drive back to the trailer is quiet. Eddie’s hands grip the steering wheel tight, and his fingers tap the rhythm of a song you can’t quite make out. You steal a glance at him, the tense set of his jaw making it clear that he’s still fuming about Billy. You know he’s just trying to protect you, but there’s something in his posture that hints at more than just concern—he’s pissed. It’s not like he hasn't made it obvious, but there’s an edge to his anger now, a frustration that’s starting to gnaw at you too.

As the van rumbles down the road toward the trailer park, you lean back against the seat, eyes trained on the world outside the window, your thoughts still lingering on the brief encounter with Billy. What the hell was that about? He hadn’t been his usual smug self. Something about it felt different, almost… normal. But you knew better than to let that pull you in.

When the van turns into the gravel lot, you finally sit up straight, looking out the window at the trailer. The silence is thick between you and Eddie, but it’s not uncomfortable. Neither of you is really ready to talk, but eventually, Eddie pulls the van to a stop outside the trailer.

He kills the engine, then turns to you, eyes still intense. “You sure you’re good?”

You nod, not trusting your voice to come out steady.

He’s quick to catch it, though, his brows knitting together. “What’s goin’ on with you and Billy, anyway?”

You sigh, pulling the door open and stepping out into the cool evening air. “Nothing,” you say, though you don’t even believe it yourself.

Eddie’s eyes follow you as you move around the van and up the steps to the door of the trailer. You can feel his gaze on you, but when you look back at him, he’s already turning away, clearly ready to call it a night.

It’s quiet inside the trailer, the soft hum of the fridge being the only sound. Eddie slams the door behind him, and you hear the familiar clink of him tossing his keys on the counter. The normalcy of it settles over you, but your mind can’t let go of Billy. You try to shake it off, but the lingering look he gave you, his sudden charm, nags at the back of your mind.

Eddie’s voice breaks through your thoughts. “You know, if Hargrove’s gonna keep trying to mess with you, I’m not gonna sit by and watch it happen.”

You stop in your tracks, looking back at him. His expression is hard now, serious.

“You don’t have to protect me, Eddie,” you mutter, though you can feel the familiar prickling of tension creeping up your spine.

“I’m your brother. It’s what I do.” He shrugs, trying to look casual, but the anger is still there, simmering. “Just don’t do anything stupid with him, alright? He’s a real piece of work, and I don’t trust him for a second.”

You want to argue, to tell him you’re fine, but something about the way Eddie looks at you stops you. You just nod, even if you’re not sure you’ll follow through.

The truth is, part of you is curious about Billy—curious in a way that makes you uncomfortable. And for all of Eddie’s warnings, the pull Billy’s subtle charm has on you is harder to ignore.

But you can’t let it happen. Not with him.

It’d be stupid. You’re the responsible one, the careful one. Eddie’s future didn’t look the brightest, but yours was looking okay right now and you needed to keep it that way. To take care of your uncle when he was older, to make sure Eddie had a roof over his head. You didn’t have time to screw up. Which meant you didn’t have time for stupid high school romances, especially not with someone like Billy.

Eddie flops onto the couch, kicking his feet up on the table. “So, what’s on the agenda tonight? Homework? Overthinking? Staring at the ceiling and contemplating existence?”

You snort, pouring yourself a glass of water. “All of the above.”

He grins, but it fades after a beat. “Hey,” he says, more serious now. “You know I’m not trying to be an ass, right? About Billy?”

You sigh, setting your glass down. “I know.”

“I just—” He sits up, resting his elbows on his knees. “I don’t want you getting caught up in something you’ll regret. You’re smarter than that.”

You press your lips together, nodding. “I know,” you repeat.

Eddie watches you for a second longer, then sighs, leaning back again. “Alright, well. If you start getting brainwashed by his stupid pretty-boy hair, I’ll stage an intervention.”

You roll your eyes but smile despite yourself. “I thought you only considered Steve a pretty boy.” You tease.

Eddie holds up a finger as if he’s about to inform you of something major. You chuckle as he drops it back to his lap. “Touché.”

The night passes in the usual rhythm. You finish up some homework while Eddie strums lazily on his guitar, eventually getting caught up in his D&D notes. By the time you both call it a night, the house is quiet except for the low hum of the TV in the background.

But as you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, you can’t seem to stop your mind from thinking about Billy. His stupid face, stupid smirk, and yes, that stupid pretty-boy hair. You’re not used to it. You’re not the kind of person who has a lot of crushes or interest in people. And it frustrates you to no end that you can’t seem to control your thoughts.

———————————————————————————

Tuesday morning feels like a repeat of yesterday, and yet, it feels heavier somehow. You walk down the hall with your books clutched tightly to your chest, hoping for a quiet start to the day. But when you turn the corner, you spot Billy. Leaning against the lockers with that infuriating, cocky smirk plastered on his face.

He looks up at you, eyes narrowing playfully as you stop in your tracks. For a brief second, he just stares, like he's trying to figure out your next move.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he says, his voice too smooth for your liking. “You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind.”

You stare at him, suppressing the instinct to roll your eyes. He’s not really concerned. It's just part of the game he plays. "Not interested in playing your little games today, Hargrove."

Billy chuckles lowly, pushing off the lockers to step closer to you, his gaze not leaving yours for a second. "Oh, I don’t know about that. You played them yesterday."

“Don’t flatter yourself. I’m just trying to go about my day,” you mutter, stepping to the side to walk past him.

But Billy’s too quick, blocking your path with a casual lean against the lockers. “C’mon, Munson. I know I’m irresistible, no point in pretending you’re not interested.”

You swallow hard, already feeling that familiar knot of frustration building. Why could he seem to read you effortlessly? “I’m not interested in anything you’ve got to say.”

Billy’s eyes glimmer with something dangerous, and he tilts his head just slightly. "Really? ‘Cause you’ve been looking at me a lot for someone who isn’t."

You force yourself not to react. He’s fishing for a reaction, and you’re not going to give it to him. "You have no clue what you’re talking about," you reply, trying to sound steady, but your heart is racing.

Billy takes a step forward, lowering his voice, as if sharing a secret. “You know, I can tell when someone’s just pretending. You’re not as good at hiding it as you think, sweetheart.” He leans in even closer, his face inches from yours. “Why don’t you admit it? You’re intrigued.”

For a moment, part of you wants to push him away, to tell him to get lost. The logical part of you. But instead, you freeze. He’s not backing down and not deterred by you brushing him off. And part of you is happy he isn’t. Part of you is almost enjoying his attention.

“I don’t care what you think, Billy,” you say, the words coming out a little shakier than you intend. "You’re not worth my time."

Billy smirks again, his eyes lighting up in that annoying, self-satisfied way that makes your skin crawl. “Sure, Princess. You keep telling yourself that.”

He steps aside, finally letting you pass, but not before his hand grazes the side of your arm. The touch sends an involuntary shiver down your spine, and it takes everything in you to keep walking. You try to shake it off as you keep walking down the hall, but you know he’s watching you, the weight of his gaze heavy on your back.

By the time lunch rolls around, you’re exhausted—mentally, mostly. You spent half the morning trying to ignore the way Billy Hargrove had been getting under your skin, and the other half pretending like he hadn’t been in your head since yesterday. It was stupid, really. You knew what kind of guy he was. And yet, here you were, letting it bother you.

You drop into your usual seat at the lunch table, across from Robin and Steve. Eddie’s already there, poking at his food with disinterest while Robin chatters about some new movie she and Steve saw over the weekend. You try to listen, but the weight of Billy’s gaze from across the cafeteria is making it difficult.

“You’ve been a little quiet today,” Robin suddenly says, snapping you out of your thoughts. She nudges your tray. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Nothing,” you say automatically, but even you don’t sound convincing.

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, I’m not buying that.”

Eddie, who up until now has been ignoring the conversation, suddenly glances up. He follows your gaze across the cafeteria and scoffs. “Jesus Christ. Again?”

You snap back to reality, tearing your gaze away from Billy, but it’s too late. Eddie saw.

“I thought we talked about this,” Eddie mutters, stabbing a fry into a glob of ketchup.

“We did,” you reply tightly.

“And?”

“And nothing,” you huff.

Robin, sensing the shift in tension, leans in with an interested smirk. “Alright, so are we gonna pretend like Hargrove isn’t staring at you from across the room, or…?”

Steve groans. “Seriously? The dudes a dick,” He says as if you don’t know. “We knew something was up, you’ve been looking weird all day.”

“I have not been looking weird,” you argue.

Robin grins. “You kinda have.”

Eddie lets out a sharp exhale and turns to you fully. “You told me you were done with this already.”

“There’s nothing to be done with,” you snap, voice sharper than you meant it to be. “I’m not doing anything.”

Eddie scoffs. “Yeah? Well, he sure as hell is.”

Robin watches the exchange with an amused expression, but Steve looks a little more cautious. “Listen, I don’t like the guy either,” he says, glancing toward Billy. “But maybe let her handle it?”

Eddie looks at Steve like he just suggested something insane. “Oh, sure, let’s just let her walk straight into that disaster.”

You slam your fork down. “Eddie, enough.”

The table goes quiet.

You rub your temples, exhaling hard. “I know what he’s like. You don’t need to keep lecturing me about it.”

Eddie blinks, caught off guard by your tone. “I’m not—”

“Yes, you are,” you cut him off. “And I get it, okay? You don’t trust him. I don’t trust him either. But I’m not an idiot, and I don’t need you hovering over me every five seconds about it.”

Eddie looks like he wants to argue, but for once, he doesn’t. Instead, he exhales heavily and mutters, “I’m just looking out for you.”

Your shoulders slump slightly, some of the fight draining out of you. “I know.”

Robin clears her throat, cutting the tension. “Sooo, we all in agreement? Hargrove is an actual demon, but it’s not our job to beat the idea into her head?”

Eddie shakes his head. “I still think it’s our job.”

Steve nudges his arm. “Let it go, dude.”

Eddie grumbles under his breath but says nothing else.

You poke at your food, your appetite all but gone. Across the cafeteria, Billy is still watching you, and despite everything you just said… you don’t look away this time.

The last bell finally rings, and you exhale, relieved to be free from the suffocating halls of Hawkins High—at least for the day. You gather your things, moving quickly to avoid getting caught up in the post-class rush, but it doesn’t take long before you feel it again.

That familiar, lingering presence.

You don’t even have to look to know who it is.

Billy falls into step beside you, hands in the pockets of his worn leather jacket, looking effortlessly smug. “You got a habit of starin’, princess,” he muses, voice dripping with amusement.

You blink, thrown off. “What?”

“Lunch,” he clarifies, smirk widening. “Caught you lookin’ at me.”

You scoff, shaking your head as you walk faster. “You’re delusional.”

Billy matches your pace with ease. “Am I?” He tilts his head, studying you. “’Cause I could’ve sworn you were watchin’ me. Like you couldn’t help yourself.”

Your fingers tighten around the strap of your bag as you keep walking, refusing to look at him. “You’re full of yourself.”

Billy hums, clearly entertained. “Maybe. But I’m not wrong.”

You stop at your locker, spinning the dial harder than necessary as you try to keep your expression neutral. “If I was looking, which I wasn’t, it’d only be because you make it hard to ignore your obnoxious ass.”

Billy leans against the lockers beside you, unbothered. “Yeah?” His voice drops lower, smooth and teasing. “That why you’re all flustered right now?”

You slam your locker shut, glaring at him. “I’m not flustered.”

His eyes flicker over your face, reading you too easily, like he knows he’s in your head and is enjoying every second of it. “Whatever you say, Munson.” He pushes off the locker, stepping back but not leaving just yet. “Maybe next time, don’t be so obvious.”

You huff, adjusting your bag as you start to walk away, only for his voice to call after you one more time.

“See you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

You don’t look back.

But damn it, you feel his eyes on you the whole way out.

———————————————————————————

You’re exhausted—from school, from Eddie’s constant hovering, and most of all, from Billy’s persistence. He hasn’t done anything outright, nothing you could point to and say, see, this is why he’s trouble. But he’s there. In the halls, in your periphery, throwing casual smirks your way like he knows something you don’t.

At lunch, you’re at your usual spot with Eddie and his friends, Robin perched on the other side of the table, half-listening to Steve complain about work. You’re mostly tuned out, too aware of the weight of a particular gaze from across the room.

Billy is sitting with his douchebag friends, lounging back in his seat like he doesn’t have a care in the world. But his eyes keep flicking to you. Not constantly—just enough that you know it’s deliberate. Just enough that it’s distracting. Again.

“You spacing out or something?” Robin nudges your arm, making you blink and tear your gaze away.

“What?”

Robin follows your line of sight, eyes narrowing when she spots Billy at his table. When she looks back at you, her expression is unreadable. “Are we seriously doing this again?”

You frown. “Doing what?”

Robin leans in, lowering her voice. “Whatever weird, unspoken thing that’s happening between you and Hargrove.”

“There is no thing,” you insist quickly, too quickly.

She snorts. “Right. And Steve suddenly enjoys working retail.”

You shoot her a look, but she just shrugs. “I’m just saying—if you’re gonna go down that road, at least be smart about it.”

You don’t respond, mostly because you’re not even sure what to say. There’s no thing between you and Billy. There can’t be.

And yet, when you glance back across the room, you catch Billy smirking at you, like he knows something you don’t.

You look away this time.

The day starts like any other—school, classes, Eddie making sarcastic comments at every opportunity. But you can’t shake the feeling that something is shifting, like the inevitable pull of a current you’re not sure you want to fight anymore.

At lunch, you and Eddie are sitting with Robin, idly picking at your food when Steve Harrington appears, dropping his tray onto the table with a loud clatter.

“Alright, losers,” Steve announces, pointing at each of you in turn. “You’re coming to the game tomorrow.”

Robin groans dramatically, flopping onto the table. “Ugh, do we have to?”

“Yes.” Steve stabs a fry in her direction. “Support your school, Buckley. And besides, the team’s doing good this season. It might actually be fun.”

Eddie snorts. “Yeah, no. I’ve got a very important Hellfire meeting tomorrow. Sorry, big guy, but D&D takes precedence over sweaty jocks running around in circles.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Figures. What about you?” He turns to you, and you open your mouth to refuse out of instinct—until an image of Billy flashes through your mind.

You hesitate. Billy will be there.

You shouldn't care. You know that. But the thought plants itself in your brain, an unshakable little itch. You tell yourself it's curiosity, nothing more. It’s not like you’re going for him. It’s just… an excuse. A reason to see if he acts the same outside of school, if he’ll even acknowledge you when he's with his friends, when he’s not leaning against your locker and throwing smug comments your way.

You shrug, trying to play it cool. “I mean… I guess I don’t have anything else going on.”

Robin sighs, giving you a look. “Fine. But if it sucks, I get to complain the whole time.”

Steve grins, triumphant. “Deal.”

Eddie shakes his head, unimpressed. “You’re really gonna go watch Hargrove stroke his own ego for an hour and a half?”

You nudge him with your elbow. “It’s just a game, Eds. Not the end of the world.”

He mutters something about falling to the dark side, but the conversation moves on, leaving you with the nagging realization that, despite every logical reason not to, you want to see Billy play.

You don’t expect to run into Billy after school, but of course, he finds you.

You’re walking toward the parking lot when you hear the unmistakable click of a lighter, followed by the sharp scent of cigarette smoke. Turning your head, you spot Billy leaning against a tree near the edge of the lot, one foot crossed over the other, watching you like he’s been waiting.

“You stalkin’ me, Munson?” he drawls, taking a slow drag of his cigarette.

You scoff. “Says the guy who’s always conveniently around.”

Billy smirks but doesn’t argue. Instead, he nods toward you. “So? You gonna be there tomorrow?”

Your heart stutters for half a second before you recover. “The game?”

He hums in confirmation, flicking ash onto the pavement.

You cross your arms. “Why do you care?”

He exhales a long stream of smoke, eyes flickering over you like he’s assessing something. “Maybe I just like an audience.”

You roll your eyes, but the corner of your mouth twitches before you can stop it. His eyes catch the movement, and his smirk softens—just slightly.

“I’ll be there,” you admit before you can overthink it.

Billy tilts his head, looking vaguely pleased. “Good.”

He doesn’t push for more, doesn’t gloat like you expect him to. Instead, he flicks his cigarette away, pushing off the tree with an easy roll of his shoulders. “See you tomorrow, doll.”

And just like that, he’s gone, walking toward his Camaro like it was just another casual conversation.

You watch him go, your fingers gripping the strap of your bag a little tighter.

It’s just a basketball game. It’s just curiosity.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

———————————————————————————

Friday drags, each class feeling longer than usual. You go through the motions—taking notes, exchanging sarcastic remarks with Eddie, rolling your eyes at Robin’s exaggerated groaning about having to endure the game later. But underneath it all, there’s something… off.

Billy hasn’t sought you out once.

No lingering at your locker. No smug comments in the hall. No interruptions in class with whispered teasing in your ear. It’s almost unsettling.

You shouldn’t care. It should be a relief, really. Maybe he lost interest, moved on to some other poor girl to taunt and charm in equal measure. That’s what you should want.

And yet, every time you pass him in the hall, your stomach twists just a little when he doesn’t even glance your way. He walks with his usual swagger, laughing with his friends, exuding the same effortless confidence, but it’s like you don’t exist.

It’s stupid. You know it’s stupid. But a small part of you—a part you don’t want to acknowledge—already misses the attention.

By the time the final bell rings, you’re more than ready to leave, eager for a distraction. Robin finds you at your locker, shoving her books into her bag with a dramatic sigh.

“I cannot believe we’re voluntarily going to this thing.”

You snort. “You act like it’s torture.”

“It is torture,” she insists. “Loud gym, sweaty dudes, and an entire student body acting like they suddenly care about school spirit? Pass.”

You shut your locker, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “Well, too late now. Plus we’re supporting Steve.”

Robin groans, but she follows you anyway, because despite all her complaining, you both know she doesn’t actually mind.

As the two of you make your way toward the gym, you can’t help but wonder—will Billy keep ignoring you? Or was this whole day just a setup for something else? Regardless, you didn’t like it.

#stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #stranger things billy hargrove x reader #stranger things billy x reader #stranger things billy x you #stranger things billy hargrove x you #Munson!reader #brother Eddie Munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you

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justastraymoa · 2 days ago

Text

Yet Unnamed

Chapter 10

Masterlist

Hyune greeted you with an air kiss so he wouldn’t mess up the freshly done makeup. “They were taking photos as I was getting ready. Asking interview questions.” He informed me. He knew that something seemed off about it and wanted to warn you just in case.

And he was right too. Neither of these things were discussed or approved. And they most certainly would need to make sure nothing was caught that would damage his reputation. Plus Hyunjin knew they weren’t on the itinerary you two had gone through.

“Okay, thanks. I’ll get on it.”

The following was a bit of a disaster. And in the end, you were left with a dangerous choice. Let them walk all over you, disrespect Hyunjin, and break the agreement. Or pull Hyunjin entirely and risk him being labeled or blacklisted but not being known as a pushover.

You highly doubted he would be blacklisted entirely. He was too good, too well known in the industry already for one incident to cause too many issues. He would probably be blacklisted from working with this company ever again, but if this is how they did business, did any of you want to be affiliated with them?

“My leader is on his way to deal with this since you want to be so disrespectful to me.” You said as nicely as you could muster to the company representative you had been going back and forth with for the last half hour.

“I’m being disrespectful? You are refusing to work and are even trying to cheat us out of our footage! You really don’t know your place, do you?” He returned pointing a finger at me.

No, you were not going to let him pull you back into this argument and bait you into saying or doing something to hang yourself. “Hyunjin will not be continuing with a single thing until this is resolved.” You simply warned him. Then you spun and went back to Hyunes ready room where he had stayed so they didn’t get anything else from him. You were thankful he thought ahead on that one, even hearing the argument through the doors and walls.

As soon as you were in the room with him Hyunjin stroked at your hair, offering you comfort. “Are you okay?” He asked quietly so no one else would overhear. You had shut the door behind you, but doors and walls had ears and you both knew that all too well.

You nodded at him with a tight smile. You were more pissed than you were letting on, but there was a time and place for everything and lashing out or ranting would not help this situation right now. Level heads were needed in this situation.

You both settled into chairs, not risking talking. You sat in separate chairs and didn’t touch, not being affectionate in front of people you did not trust. Instead, you pulled out your tablet to work on some backlogged media, and Hyune scrolled through his phone.

Ten minutes passed before the door to the ready room opened and you both were immediately alert. “The cameras are set up. Is he ready?” A tech asked.

The representative must not have taken you seriously and thought you were bluffing. “Like I told your boss, Hyunjin will not be getting in front of anymore of your cameras or speaking to any of you until our leader gets here or the company reaches an appropriate agreement with me.”

The tech looked over at Hyunjin, silently asking him if what you said was true. Typical. Acting like this wasn’t your job or your call. Acting like you didn’t even exist. Like since you had a vagina you couldn’t possibly know what you were talking about.

Annoyed and done with the disrespect today you stepped in his line of sight, blocking Hyunjin from view. “Hi, yeah. This is my call right now – you speak to me.” You jabbed your own chest to demonstrate.

The tech took another second before nodding and leaving the room, not closing the door behind him. Repressing a sigh at yet another sign of disrespect you stepped forward and closed the door yourself, resisting with great effort, the urge to slam it.

“You are kind of scary in business mode.” Hyune remarked idly.

Huffing out a breath you sat back down, crossing your legs. “They are trying to take advantage of you because of me. And hell if I’ll let anyone use me against any of you.” You said glaring at your tablet as you tapped on it extra hard.

“You were expecting something like this to happen.”

“Eventually, yeah. But I had hoped they would be more professional than this. They didn’t even try and be sneaky about it! Just another slap in the face.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Chan is on his way. He will take over and make the call, as leader.”

“He isn’t coming to take over your job you know, he is coming to offer support.”

“He is leader. I’m not offended. I am untested.” You shrugged it off.

Hyune seemed to let it go.

Chan arrived about fifteen minutes later, calmly but sternly entering the room and closing the door firmly behind him.

“I forgot my phone.” He announced.

You rolled your eyes. “Han told us. What did the rep say?”

He shrugged. “Didn’t talk to them. Came straight here. Though I’m sure they will know I’m here soon. What do you want to do?”

You locked your tablet and set it aside. “Up to you, boss. If he does the commercial, they will use the shots and interview, and I will have no control over when or how.” You informed him.

He shook his head. “No, this is your call, your domain. I’m only here to support you.” He held his hands up in mock surrender.

“Told you.” Hyunjin said from behind you. You resisted the childish urge to stick your tongue out at him.

You were shocked that Chan was willing to give up control like that. This would affect all of Stray Kids if it didn’t go the way the company wanted it to go. If you don’t give in and let them do what they want. You bit your lip and thought about it.

If he was going to trust you and let you do what you think was best, then you weren’t going to hold back. This company was not going to get away with this. “Speak to the rep and see if he will come to an agreement with you. He seems to feel superior to women. We need to approve when and where they use all the footage, and they need to pay for all of the additional footage and shots as well.” You explained. “A new contract will need to be drawn up, agreed upon, and signed before anything can continue today.”

Chan nodded in understanding. “Okay. Only if you come too. They need to know I support you and your decisions completely.”

You nodded and smiled, leading the way. “Hyune, call me if anyone comes in here – and don’t say a word to them.”

Hyune nodded and you and Chan left the room to find the rep, determined to get this settled one way or another. This was taking up too much of everyone’s precious and limited time.

As expected, the rep knew Chan was here and met up with you just outside the ready room door. He immediately started speaking only to Chan. “This girl here is going to ruin your reputation if you keep her around. She is trying to steal from us and is being completely unreasonable.” The rep continued to explain that the video and photos were his companies to use as they wished and that you refused to work with him to come to an agreement.

You let the man talk, not interrupting him once. You even avoided making any noises or faces to his bold-faced lies. If Chan believed them, then there were far more issues than you thought there were, and you would deal with that when you could. But Chan gave no indication of believing the man. He stood silently and let him talk, simply nodding to let him know he was listening to him. The look on Chan’s face got darker and darker the more the man talked, which the man took to be a good thing, letting it fuel further complaints and lies.

The silence hung in the air when the man finally finished his bullshit. Chan stood with his arms crossed looking pissed as hell, but was he pissed at you or for you, that was the question. And you were just a little nervous about the answer.

“Interesting.” Chan finally replied. “What do you want to do, Y/n? Its your call.” He stared directly at the rep as he asked this, daring the man to say something else.

It seemed like Chan didn't even want to try and negotiate with the man or come to a compromise, which was fine with you. You had already made your decision.

You took a second to properly formulate your response. “I’m pulling Hyunjin. The contract agreed upon is clear and it was broken by you. If any photos or video is found to have been used in any capacity, we will take action against your company.”

The rep scoffed. “You’re kidding. Do you know what you are doing? We will pull him as ambassador!”

“Thank you for reminding me. We will also be ending the ambassadorship. Stray Kids will not now nor ever associate with petty thieves such as yourselves.”

Turning back to Chan the rep pointed an angry finger at you again. You really wanted to snap it off his hand. “You are going to let her do this? Ruin you like this? Word will spread!”

“Yes, it will.” Chan began with a nod. “Word will spread that Stray Kids will not be taken advantage of. Word will spread that no one can disrespect the members or the staff like you have today.”

The livid rep took one more look at each of you before storming off, already typing furiously on his phone. You’re sure a message to his boss will be sent very soon. You planned on sending one of your own as well, complete with a copy of the agreement. The sections that were broken highlighted clearly as well as what actions will be taken should anything be leaked that was taken today. And it would also be sent to Stray Kids manager and JYP just to make sure all bases are covered.

You and Chan went back to the ready room. “Change back into your clothes, we are leaving.” Chan announced.

Hyune got to it without question or comment, and you started to gather your things.

“Thank you. Both of you.” You said when you were done. You were immensely grateful for their trust in you.

You rode back to the company together. You were on your phone typing out the long email to the president of the offending company himself, explaining exactly why Hyunjin was pulled the day of the shoots. Chan and Hyune were talking amongst themselves.

Your eyes stayed on your screen even as you arrived at the company and got out of the vehicle. You felt someone steer you away from obstacles, but didn’t bother to look up to see who it was or where you were going. You had a whole new list of things to do to fully get Hyunjin pulled, and you needed to get them done as soon as possible to avoid any more issues. And to prove that you were not bluffing, even in the slightest.

Unfortunately, not even five minutes after sending the email to the president of the offending company, SKZ manager, and JYP your phone rang in your hand and JYPs nasty face tainted your phone screen.

As you swiped to pick up you vaguely noted that you were now in 3rachas sound room and were curious when and how you got there.

“Since when do you know Korean? And what the hell happened today?” JYP immediately started shouting as soon as the call connected, not even waiting for a hello.

The three men in the room with you looked over concerned, easily able to hear JYP shouting over the phone. You rubbed the bridge of your nose. Your lack of sleep was catching up to you and you were sick of getting yelled at today.

“I’ve known Korean for most of my life. And I explained everything in great detail in the email. Did you even bother to read it, or did you just call to jump down my throat about things you don’t have all the facts for?” You snapped. This man deserved not even the little respect you were still giving him.

“What made you think it was a good idea to piss off a huge company? The president called me directly to tell me what you did!”

“I hate when he talks to her like that.” Han said lowly, face dark. It was an oddly sexy look for the quokka.

“You should have heard the people at the shoot.” Hyunjin responded. Chan nodded.

You hushed them. “Listen, asshole. I made the call. My explanation is in the email. Both Chan and Hyunjin were there and can back up the facts. I don’t give a shit if you talked to the president of the company or the President of the United States. The call was made, and I’m sticking to it. Goodbye.” You hung up before JYP could respond, done with him yelling at you while being ignorant.

“Coffee. I need a gallon of it.” You announced.

The three men were silent in shock, but Chan pointed to a small single serve machine in the corner, stocked with anything you could need to make a good cup of joe or tea. Thankful, you immediately started to brew one for yourself.

JYP didn’t call you back, though you were planning on ignoring his calls anyways. And he also didn’t respond to your email. You took this as a small victory. If not for him accepting your decision, then for not having any contact with him again.

Mainlining coffee and actively avoiding thinking about the video premiering in a few minutes, you went to the atrium to set up for filming shorts. Chan was right. It was a beautiful, sunny day. Perfect lighting and backdrop for the videos.

The challenge videos were fun to set up and film. The boys and the idol guests did their own things, came up with their own fun twists to the challenge. It was obvious how much fun they all seemed to have with it, interacting with friends they rarely got to see thanks to schedules. Getting to meet new idols that they admired. Just plain interact with other groups. The fans loved seeing them show off the friendships they had with other idols they stanned.

However, you failed to realize just how annoying it would be to listen to the same 30 second clip of a song 500 times. Not even watching them and meeting other idols yourself could stop the irritation that brought on.

You hid your red face as Chan came over with a wide, teasing smile. Apparently you are not used to compliments or praise. You learn something new about yourself everyday. People usually didn’t notice what you did because it was always behind the scenes. They just appreciate the end product.

“So, your video came out half an hour ago.” Chan gently said, knowing how nervous you were about it.

You had been trying to ignore anything to do with it. You knew the boys had been replying to comments, but you weren’t brave enough to go in and look over them to approve them because then you would have to see what people had been saying about you.

“How bad is it?” You ask picking at the table you were sitting at. Han and Hyunjin were still filming their videos. Using the setup while they could for other videos.

“Not as good as I had hoped, but not as bad as you are thinking.” Chan said cryptically. “Let’s go back to the room and we can look at them together. Away from prying eyes.”

Immensely grateful for this man, you accept his offer and his hand when he held it out for you.

When you got back to the room you claimed the couch again, pulling your knees up and letting Chan pull you against his side and hold you. You slowly unlock your tablet, dread and anxiety filling you with every tap.

“Maybe I should have someone else do this.” You suggest before pulling anything up.

“Y/n. Just get it over with.” Chan deadpanned, not letting you procrastinate any more than you already have.

You siged, knowing he was right, but still not liking it. You made a face at him, and he patted your arm in comfort, still holding you around your shoulders.

You suck in a deep breath and look at the damage.

The initial reactions to the video were the fans losing their shit. Being excited for Stray Kids. There was an unholy amount of exclamation points and emojis used, and caps lock seemed to be stuck on everyone’s devices. There were some people unsure about how to feel and they expressed that with general negativity, but not open hostility towards you, so you could handle that.

The second stage is when everyone get over their initial shock and watched the video all the way through once. Now they were watching for a second time, this time to pick you apart. Every little thing, good and bad. Picking at everyone’s answers, body language, and even micro expressions. This is where STAY started to really come to their own judgments about you. This was the part you were not looking forward to.

“Chan, STAY is going to bury me alive!” You whine after reading a comment threatening just that. You buried your face in his chest and groaned/shouted.

Chan caved his chest in trying to get away. “That tickles.”

“What tickles?” Hyune asked. He and Han entered the room, back in comfier clothes now that they were done filming videos.

“She yelled into my chest. We are reading comments on her video.”

“Ah. Freaking out?” Han guessed plopping on the couch with us and draping his legs over Chans. Hyune sat behind him, holding him up.

“Understatement! I was never meant to be known! This is nuts! STAY is nuts!” You complained, stomping your feet.

“They aren’t even all that bad. Theres lots of support here too.” Hyune pointed out. He was scrolling through the comments on his phone again, stopping periodically to reply to one. You haven’t even gotten to check their replies yet. You weren’t past the original comments.

“This one literally wants to bury me alive and take my place in the group! Word for word!”

“Okay. So that ones a little scary. The good news is you can’t be replaced. We would never allow it.”

You reached over and pinched Hyunes’ cheek lightly in affection.

In the end it was exactly as you had been expecting. STAY was divided almost 50/50 on liking or hating you. There were a couple concerning comments you promptly took note of before deleting and blocking the individual, but most negative comments were hateful, hurtful words. Words you were failing to stop from getting to you.

Though you are proud to say you only cried once. You felt that was pretty good since this is the first time you subjected yourself to this level of scrutiny and judgement.

All three of your available soulmates held you and comforted you when they saw the tears. One of them must have texted Felix and Seungmin, because they arrived loaded with comfort food.

“Don’t worry, Y/n. You get numb to most of it after a while. And there is a lot of support too. Focus on them. Haters are a dime a dozen and mostly only want attention.” Felix assured handing you a plate of food after dishing it out among all of you.

You were laying across the couch, your feet in Felixs lap. Seungmin lay on top of you slowly, looking apologetic. You let him, resting your hands on his back as you continued to work and text. Seungmin, you learned, had a love by teasing nature. He didn’t mean any harm by it, and most of his words came from being emotionally constipated, unable to properly express himself.

Absently you rubbed Seungmin’s ear shell as he relaxed on top of you, practically melting against you. Felix moved your feet and wedged himself between the couch, Seungmin, and you, sliding one arm under your back and resting his head on Seungmins back.

When he was settled you reached over and scratched lightly at his scalp before going back to work.

The rest of the day would be calmer. Mostly computer work. So Seungmin and Felix could nap peacefully without being disturbed.

Chan and Han discussed their music quietly across the room, even calling Bin when he had a free moment to assist. It was a very nice, relaxing work afternoon.

🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠

Yet Unnamed Taglist: @fackeraccount @velvetmoonlght @hyunjinstolemyheart @vampkittenb82 @happy-jj @estella-novella @demigoddreamon-blog @tiana-maxivar @ms-flowergirl @jennibahng @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @mimimiloomeelomi @simpforskz143148 @xxeiraxx @lil-bear08 @brbwritingfanfic @jisungs-iced-americano @zofia515 @missvanjiii @malyxsoulpersonal @silentreadersthings @pixie0627

General Taglist @stellasays45 @beebee18 @weird-bookworm @velvetmoonlght

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real-fire-emblem-takes · 12 hours ago

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do you want to hear my three houses college major takes of course you do let’s do this king

Edelgard is a political science major. I’m doing these based on more of a modern au fyi but I think polisci fits the bill with her no matter what. I’ve seen arguments for criminal justice but I tend to lean towards polisci thinking about career paths

Hubert is in biomedical engineering. I was going to say bio at first but with how much he worked with agarthan technology I thought putting him in some kind of engineering program would be interesting

Ferdinand is a criminology major trying to get into law school. Three hopes confirms he went to the officers academy to study and build a case against his father

Dorothea is in mass communications. She’d minor in music but I don’t think she’d spend all that money for a degree in it. Communications I thought would work because it’s like media in relation to society. I could see her as a film major too but that’s a bit of a stretch

Bernadetta is a creative writing major I don’t think I need to argue that one

Petra is a geography major. I was going to say international relations but in this sort of non noble modern au I think geography fits her personal interests. I know she hates math but geography lets her study so much stuff at the same time and it’s very Petra to me

Linhardt is a biochem major again I don’t think I need to argue that one

Caspar I honestly can’t imagine doing a four year program and I could not find anything that actually fit him. I could see him doing a two year certificate program or some kind of trade school in something like welding

Dimitri depends on how much we remove from the scenario. Kill his family and you have pissed off criminal justice major Dimitri. Don’t kill his family and you have forestry major Dimitri (based on that one convo he has with Dedue in hopes I just really love this concept)

Dedue is a horticulture major. I don’t know if this is exactly what he would choose to do, but it’s what I think he’d be happiest doing it’s just very lovely for him. I could also see him as a nutrition major

Felix is a kinesiology major. I don’t think he’d pick a major instantly, but I think he’d really click with kinesiology once that reason budding talent kicks in

Sylvain is a film studies major and I will die on that hill. It’s a communications adjacent major, which is what he’s consistently good at and he loves art and I think a lower level of urgency would let him get into it a little more. I could also see him in journalism

Ingrid I actually don’t know. She and Ashe both really leaned into the knight thing (Ashe at least had a very easy alternative for me to go with). I can see her as some kind of engineering major (I just don’t know what field) because it’s a very respectable career path and because Ingrid just has major woman in stem vibes

Annette is an education/mathematics double major ENOUGH SAID.

Mercedes I initially wanted to say nursing, but I think social work or child development fit her a lot better based on her ambitions. I’m leaning towards child development

Ashe is a classics major. If you’re going to look at me and tell me this guy would not lose his mind if you let him study ancient literature and civilization you are WRONG.

Claude I could see double majoring in anthropology and polisci. I think he’d throw in some sort of chemistry minor just for fun

HILDA IS A FUCKING MARKETING MAJOR. Fashion marketing of the school offers it but oh my god this woman screams marketing major I mean that as lovingly as I can. I know some schools have specific jewelry/metalsmithing programs but it’s not common enough for me to jump at it

On that same line of loving slander Lorenz is more than just a business major. He’s an entrepreneurship major. I honestly think he’d be really good at it though

Marianne is in pre-vet but we already knew that. She’s canonically helped a horse through labor

Lysithea is definitely a stem major but I have no idea which one. I could see her doing something insane like astrophysics. Actually yea Lysithea would fucking love physics. Or neuroscience

Ignatz definitely started off as a business major, crashed out, switched to art history so he could still feel “sophisticated” before finally committing to art

Raphael is a hospitality major and I need you to hear me out on this okay PLEASE. Most of what he’s interested in requires a large amount of math which this man does not care for at all and would die doing. His family runs an inn during three hopes, so hospitality is a very reasonable degree for him. He’d only go to college to help his family more anyway let’s be real

Leonie I think would like geology. I was between that and forestry because I think Leonie would be really concerned with environmental waste in a modern au. I ultimately chose geology because I think she’d eventually get bored out of her mind in forestry

Yuri is a sociology major. I was tempted to also throw polisci at him, but sociology I thought focused more on the things that he really cares about plus I think he’d die in a political science classroom

Constance is a biology major. I was going to say chemistry at first but then I thought about bioluminescence and thought yea. She’d like that. She’d like that a lot. I don’t actually know much about the specifics of stem majors so please correct me if I’m botching course material

Hapi I think would be a botony major. I just think she’d really thrive on figuring out all the different ways you can fuck around with a plant. Hapi I love you but I genuinely don’t know what the fuck she’d do if she went to college. I don’t think she would even want to go to college or she’d go in like her thirties

Balthus. I’m actually gonna need help with that one.

Anyways have fun bye

#fe #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fe16 #fe3h

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darkbluekies · 1 day ago

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It's true that Silas's darling is very manipulated at this point but she's also terrified of punishment, and terrified of seeing Silas hurt people. If the cops think she's in on his business they'll interrogate her for information, and that stress might cause something to slip. Or maybe the stress of leaving Silas is enough to do it. She knows what happens when she tries to leave. So the whole car ride with the cops this panic is getting worse, she's just muttering to herself "he's gonna be so mad, he's gonna put me back in the basement, I didn't do anything wrong" and that peaks the detectives interest. That's what makes them think she's a victim and not a part of Silas and his work. But I'm also curious, would Sila's darling have a missing persons case attached to her? Since she kinda just disappeared. Silas can make a lot of things go away, but people probably noticed when she randomly dropped off the face of the earth. Who's to say someone from her past doesn't recognize her. "Missing person found in Mafia bosses house" is enough to gain traction in the news.

I don't mean for this ask to come across as pushy or anything, I just love your writing and it always makes me think and I love finding all the little details in your work It's really awesome. Take your time writing these masterpieces<<<<<33333

this is helpful, because i have this vision of what i want the oneshot to be, but not really know what i wanted to add, but this helps a lot! The more details i can put in my stories the better

in the story, darling's thinking is that "the one you should have helped is already gone, so it won't matter if i tell you or not because you can't help that person anymore" but they're also scared to admit to the cops what Silas have done because they know that Silas WILL find them and then they'll have to answer for their deeds. if they don't say anything, he won't be mad at them when they come back. Everything to avoid the basement :)

but they do feel the "i need to protect others so that they don't suffer the same fate" thing, because darling knows that they play a subconcious part in getting other people into the basement, and they KNOW that the cops would end up there.

But the thing about the missing person file is GENIUS because genuinly i had forgotten that part. Of course darling must have that because he literally kidnapped them.

in the first draft/version, darling does accidentally spill some information, but its about SIC

“I don’t know anything”, you try, yet again. “You’ve said that—” “Why don’t you believe me?!” “Don’t yell. I’m trying to talk to you.” “You’re trying to pressure me for information I don’t have! I’m useless to you, you took the wrong fucking person! If you wanted to know things, you should have taken SIC.” “SIC?” Fuck.

but i might make them spill a little of the basement too, because that would be REALLY bad for Silas. And i like to torture him :D I'm so into the "i didn't do anything wrong i don't want to go into the basement part", i love that so much

i don't think this particular message seemed pushy! thank you for your suggestions!

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mirikitakato · 2 days ago

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[Translation] Shylock Sonatina 2025 SSR Card: Let me serve you

The event is crazy lol. Enjoy seeing Shylock almost makes himself killed by Oz-- Characters: Shylock, Oz, Akira Event: Sonatina of the Perverse and Intoxicating Service

Card Story: Whispered words, sweet and deep.

Episode 1

Akira: Oz, could you help me move that case over there? It's a bit heavy...

Oz: Understood.

The lounge of the "Selfish and Capricious Servants" is being hosted by Shylock.

After a hugely successful business day, we are preparing to return to the Magic Manor.

Akira: Shylock, is this stylish bottle of juice something we should take back to the Manor?

Shylock: No, let's drink it here. Would you like to join me for a break?

Akira: Wow, really? Then I'll gladly accept...

Oz: .……..

Shylock: Lord Oz, please join us if you'd like.

Oz: No, I...

Akira: I won't force you, but I'd be happy if you could drink with us, Oz.

Oz: ...If it's a request from the Sage.

Shylock: Then please, both of you, sit here.

Akira: ...Thinking about it again, "Selfish and Capricious Servants" is quite a theme, isn't it?I I also received a request from a customer, but when it came time to do it, I became flustered...

Shylock: Fufu, I think to the customers, your naivety was also part of your charm. Don’t you think so too, Lord Oz?

Oz: …You did your best. There's no need to worry.

Akira: You two... thank you! If there's another time, I'll do my best!

Shylock: In that case, instead of waiting for another time, how about we have a little role-playing now?

Akira: Huh, now?

Shylock: Yes, I'll play the role of a customer, and you can freely play the role of a "selfish and capricious servant" in your own way.

The special liqueur honey that overflows from your action will surely have a special taste that no one else can create.

A special taste... That is proof that we were able to satisfy the customers who visited this lounge.The magical tool for storing the honey is now empty and sits at the back of the counter.

Akira: (Offering something to Shylock is nerve-wracking, but since it's a good opportunity, let's do it.)

Encouraged by Shylock's words, I quietly turn my gaze to Oz, who’s standing at the counter seat.

Akira: Um, if you'd like, Oz...

Oz: I don't intend to play house.

Akira: Ah, of course, you don't have to be a servant! I just thought it would be nice if I could serve various customers when I had the chance. It's okay if you just stay as you are...

Oz: ...In that case, I will accept.

Shylock: To think that the day would come when I would sit next to Lord Oz as a customer... I'm a little nervous myself.

Oz: There is no need for customers to interact deeply with each other.

Shylock: Fufu, yes, I'll keep that in mind and enjoy myself as well.

Episode 2

Oz: ...

Akira: (I wonder if I can manage this with Oz and Shylock...)

While I nervously wipe the glasses, the door bell rings with a "chime."

Shylock: Hello. Are you open?

Akira: ...! (Shylock is acting like a customer. Then, I should act like a selfish servant...)

Akira: Wha, what are you here for?

Shylock: Haha, what am I here for? To drink some wine, of course. Excuse me, sir, would you mind if I sit next to you?

Oz: .…..

Akira: (He’s talking casually to Oz! It's so refreshing...!)

Shylock: You're a very polite servant. Are you new? And... I don't think I've seen you before either? Perhaps you're a traveler? I'd love to hear some stories.

Akira: (He's putting his hand on Oz's shoulder... He's being quite pushy, I wonder if it's okay?)

Oz: .……

Akira: (Oh... I guess it didn't work...)

Just when I feel Oz's quiet anger and my back turns cold, Shylock smoothly moves closer to Oz and whispers something in his ear.

Shylock: Please forgive my rudeness. It's all part of the act to entertain Master Sage.

Oz: .…… ...There won't be next time.

Shylock: Thank you for your understanding. Now then, little servant. I'll have a red wine. And you, traveler?

Oz: I'll have the same.

Akira: (Oz went along with it? I don't know what happened, but... Okay! Now it’s my turn...!) I'm not in the mood. Both of you, don't give me orders.

After saying those powerful words, both of their gazes turn towards me.

Akira: (Uh oh… I hope I didn't make them feel bad... It's harder than I imagined to be selfish while still entertaining them...)

While frantically searching for my next line, I suddenly meet Shylock's eyes.

Akira: (...How would Shylock handle this?)

I pick up a bottle with a stylish label that is on the counter.

Akira: Instead of wine, I'm in the mood for this juice right now. I think we'll enjoy a different flavor than usual if we drink it together... Will you grant my selfish request?

Shylock: (Oh. This is... Fufufu) Of course, this is your bar after all. What about you, sir?

Oz: Yes. If that's what you wish.

Akira: (Great!)

I finally feel like I'm getting the hang of it. Feeling my tense body relax, I pour juice into the three glasses.

Akira: Then... to this encounter... Cheers!

Shylock & Oz: Cheers.

Episode 3

Thanks to the cheerful customer and the quiet traveler, time passes enjoyably--When the role-playing comes to an end, Shylock returns to the counter, and Oz quietly leaves the lounge.

Akira: That was... It ended up feeling like a drinking party towards the end, didn't it? Oz seemed to be drinking quite a bit too...

Shylock: Because it was Master Sage who was playing the role of the selfish servant that Lord Oz was able to watch over us warmly, I'm sure. I also got carried away and went a little overboard.

Akira: You certainly gave me a bit of a scare when you put your hand on Oz's shoulder...

Shylock: I apologize for making you worry. But I'm glad that I was able to deliver both thrill and pleasure to Master Sage.

Akira: I'm glad it worked out somehow. Actually, I based this performance on Shylock.

Shylock: Oh, really? So that means that from your perspective, I'm... "selfish and laid-back"?

Akira: What!? N-no!! I don’t mean you're selfish, not at all! Shylock is always true to himself no matter who he's with... I felt that he’s very charming to talk to, so I thought it might give me some hints, so...

Shylock: Fufu, I'm just kidding. It's not my intention to make you uncomfortable. It was a very refreshing experience to be able to know how you see me.

Akira: Thanks god... hearing that makes me feel relieved. Speaking of refreshing, I was surprised that you weren't using honorifics, Shylock! Even though I knew it was acting, I was a little nervous...

Shylock: Oh, I'm glad you enjoyed it. However...

Akira: ......?

Shylock: .........

Akira: (Ah.........)

A bewitching smile approaches closely, making my heart jump.Then, as if toying with my heart, Shylock whispers sweetly in my ear.

Shylock: I wanted to see more of your own selfishness, not just imitating mine.

Akira: Sh-Shylock!? This is also part of the act, right!?

Shylock: ......Well, I wonder? I want to taste the honey created because Master Sage’s pleased with my words...

Akira: Huh, honey...?

Shylock: I'm more selfish than you think I am, you know…

Akira: !?!?!?

The last whispered words, sweet and deep, vibrate my eardrums-- Beside me, who was about to get dizzy, I heard the sound of a drop falling with a "plop."

Card Episode: In a natural and comfortable way

Akira: Good evening.

Shylock: Welcome. It's unusual to see you so late at night.

Akira: Actually... I took a nap and now I can't fall back asleep.

Shylock: Fufu, adorable. I was just hoping for someone to talk to myself. If you don't mind, would you keep me company until you get sleepy? Please, have a seat.

Akira: ...It's really different after all.

Shylock: Master Sage?

Akira: Oh, I'm sorry! I was just thinking about how I imitated you a little while back, after we opened a lounge in the Western Country the other day. I ended up acting pretty self-centered, but the real thing is completely different. Even if you're acting as you please, you don't make others feel you’re selfish, and you make them feel comfortable...

Shylock: You're a sinful one. It’s you who makes me feel comfortable.

Akira: Huh?

Shylock: I suddenly want a drink myself. Would you join me?

Akira: Of course!

Shylock: Thank you. I was hoping to put you to sleep as soon as possible, but... please allow me this selfish request.

=== Home-screen Voiceline ===

"Welcome, Owen. I had a feeling you'd come, so I prepared some sweet cocktail recipes. I have a wide variety to choose from, from refreshing fruit-based ones to rich, creamy ones. Please, help yourself to whatever you like."

#shylock #mahoyaku #translation

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sakshisahu · 18 hours ago

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Here's the first chapter – a glimpse to tempt you!

John Watson hadn’t heard from Sherlock in three weeks. Not a single word. Not a text, not a cryptic message through Mycroft, not even one of those bloody ridiculous experiments gone wrong that required his medical expertise. Just silence. Even when he messaged the "not dead" Sherlock, greeting and asking about him.

And John, for all his blustering about how he was done with Sherlock and his bloody mind games, found himself outside 221B Baker Street with his fist raised to knock.

Mrs. Hudson had suggested—well, insisted—that he check in. “He’s been holed up in there with that young woman for weeks,” she’d said, her eyes twinkling with just enough mischief to make John uneasy. “You know what he’s like. He’s probably not eating properly.”

A young woman.

That phrase stuck in John’s head as he finally knocked, hearing the familiar shuffle of footsteps before the door swung open. But it wasn’t Sherlock standing there.

It was her.

She was stunning.

Golden-brown skin, light brown eyes, dark waves of hair tumbling over her shoulder as she leaned against the doorframe, her lips curling in a way that made John suddenly very aware of himself. She wore one of Sherlock’s shirts—his good one, the deep blue one that somehow made his cheekbones even sharper—and a pair of leggings. Comfortable. At home.

“What the—?” John started, stepping back slightly.

“Oh,” she said, her accent distinctly British with a hint of something else—something musical. “You must be John.”

Before he could even think of a reply, she turned her head back inside and called, “Sherlock! Your friend is here!”

John pushed past her before she could stop him, stepping into the flat with its usual chaos of papers, books, and odd bits of experiments. The air smelled faintly of chemicals and tea, an odd mix, but familiar. Sherlock was sprawled on the sofa, looking completely at ease, long fingers wrapped around a teacup.

“John,” he said, as if his former flatmate had just popped down to the shops rather than been deliberately ignored for weeks. “I assumed you’d come eventually.”

John folded his arms, not bothering to hide his irritation. “Yeah, well. Unlike some people, I don’t make a habit of pretending to be dead and then vanishing again. Thought I’d check in.”

Sherlock arched a brow. “How considerate.”

The woman—Shruti, as John would later learn—moved past him, settling onto the arm of Sherlock’s chair with the ease of someone who lived there.

John cleared his throat. “You didn’t mention you were…seeing someone.”

Sherlock blinked at him. “I didn't mention a great many things, John. Would you like a list?”

John scowled. “That’s not what I—” He exhaled sharply. “You said you were busy.”

“I was busy.” Sherlock gestured vaguely toward Shruti. “We had a case. And now she’s here.”

“Right,” John muttered. He folded his arms tighter.

“Sherlock’s been terribly busy,” she said, her voice filled with mock sympathy. “Not talking much. Thinking. Brooding.” She leaned in slightly, dropping her voice to a stage whisper. “I think he was lonely without a flatmate.”

Sherlock made a small noise in affirmative, and Shruti reached out to ruffle his curls.

John felt something cold settle in his stomach. It was too easy, the way they interacted. Too familiar. Too…something. John blinked. “Flatmate?”

Sherlock nodded. “I found myself in need of one.”

John’s mouth opened. Then shut. Then opened again.

“You—what?”

“I was lonely,” Sherlock said matter-of-factly. “You were not speaking to me, and Mrs. Hudson refuses to play Cluedo. Shruti was available. It’s a suitable arrangement.”

John looked between them. Shruti, sitting there like she belonged

He cleared his throat. “Right. So you’re…?”

“Oh, sorry, where are my manners?” Shruti held out a hand, her nails painted dark, elegant fingers warm when they curled around his in a firm shake. “Shruti Roy Singh.”

“Dr. John Watson.” he said.

“I know who you are,” she said, smirking slightly.

John glanced at Sherlock. “And she is…?”

“My girlfriend,” Sherlock replied smoothly.

John coughed. “Your—what?”

Sherlock didn’t even blink. “Girlfriend. You’ve met one before, I assume?”

John stared at him, waiting for the punchline. This was Sherlock Holmes. The man who had spent years ridiculing human attraction, dismissing sentiment as a hindrance. Sherlock Holmes did not have girlfriends.

“She’s joking,” John said finally.

“No,” Shruti replied, smiling just a little too sweetly. “It’s a suitable arrangement for both of us.”

There was a pause before Sherlock added, “She’s also incredibly useful. And she makes excellent tea.”

John turned to Shruti. “Are you joking?”

She tilted her head, considering. “Hmm. Depends. Do you want the truth or something that’ll help you sleep at night?”

John scowled. “Right. Brilliant. So what is this, then? Some experiment? Some ridiculous social test?”

Shruti sighed, shifting to drape herself over the back of the sofa, her fingers tracing patterns against Sherlock’s shoulder. “I am his girlfriend,” she said. “Technically.”

“Technically,” Sherlock echoed.

John scrubbed a hand down his face. “You’re not helping.”

Sherlock finally sat up, exhaling through his nose like he was dealing with a particularly slow student. “John, you’re engaged to Mary.”

John blinked. “Yeah, and?”

Sherlock gestured between himself and Shruti. “This makes things…balanced.”

John’s jaw clenched. “Balanced.”

“Fair,” Sherlock corrected. “You moved on. So have I.”

A sharp laugh escaped John before he could stop it. “Oh, come off it, Sherlock. You don’t date. You don’t even like people.”

Sherlock hummed. “I like some people.”

Shruti smirked. “Apparently, brunettes.”

John froze. His mind immediately went to her. Irene Adler.

His stomach twisted uncomfortably.

Sherlock smirked as if he knew exactly what John was thinking. “You always assumed I had a type, John. You may be right.”

John opened his mouth, then closed it again, feeling distinctly like he was losing some unspoken battle.

Shruti stretched lazily, shifting even closer to Sherlock. “Anyway, we were planning on staying in tonight,” she mused, her fingers playing with the hem of Sherlock’s sleeve. “Maybe have a long night in.”

Sherlock simply smiled. “It is a Friday.”

John’s brain short-circuited.

“Right, that’s it— enjoy your day -- you two".

He turned on his heel, storming toward the door, heart hammering. He walked out before he could say something he might regret.

Shruti’s laughter followed him out.

Sherlock, damn him, simply sipped his tea.

John slammed the front door behind him, his breath coming in sharp bursts. His mind was a tangled mess of thoughts, a storm of anger and confusion crashing inside his skull.

Sherlock. With a girlfriend.

And not just any girlfriend—this Shruti woman, beautiful and clever, completely at ease in his place, wearing his shirt.

John ran a hand through his hair, barely registering Mary’s voice as she entered the room.

“You’re home early.”

John let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah. Just came back from 221B.”

Mary gave him an amused glance as she set down her tea. “Oh? Sherlock still up to his usual madness?”

John let out a sharp breath. “You could say that.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Alright, I’ll bite. What’s he done now?”

“He’s got a girlfriend.”

Mary blinked. “What?”

“Yeah.” John let out a humorless chuckle. “Some woman named Shruti Singh. Living with him. Helping him with cases, god knows how. Wearing his bloody clothes.”

Mary’s surprise softened into something more thoughtful. “Huh. Well, good for Sherlock.”

Something in John snapped.

“Oh, good for Sherlock, is it?” His voice was sharper than intended. “He fakes his death, puts me through hell, comes back, barely acknowledges what he did, then bloody ignores me for weeks, and now—now he’s just moved on?”

Mary frowned. “John—”

“No, seriously, what the hell?” His voice was rising, his hands clenched into fists.

Mary interrupted, "John, if I remember it correctly it was you, who hardly texted him & you've told me how he hates banal pleasantries".

John was breathing, noisily, angrily.

"So what? He always asks me out on cases. But he didn't and I’m supposed to just be okay with this? With him acting like nothing ever happened? With—”

Mary crossed her arms. “John. Maybe he didn't have any good cases, maybe he was just giving you space, for all we know, maybe, he was just busy 'not being dead' and 'getting familiar with London again'."

John turned to face her, stared at her with narrowed eyes, " Why are you taking his side?"

"John --- she started speaking in that infuriatingly slow notes dragging every other syllable as if talking to a child.

"You’re not angry about Sherlock moving on. You’re angry that you haven’t.”

John’s jaw tightened. “That’s not—”

She exhaled sharply, rubbing her forehead. “You need to sort yourself out, John. Or at least cool down. I’m going out with some friends.” She grabbed her coat. “Text me when you’re ready to have a rational conversation.”

And with that, she was gone.

John stood there, fists still clenched, heart still hammering.

His breath was shaky as he sat on the bed, head in his hands. He hated this—this ache deep in his chest, the raw, unspoken grief curling around his ribs.

Sherlock had moved on.

John didn’t know what to do with that.

His vision blurred, and before he knew it, he was scrubbing a hand over his face, furious at the wetness on his cheeks. He told himself,

"I will not shed any more tears for him who has moved on, damn it".

John sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers pressing against his temples, willing himself to stop thinking.

Stop thinking about Sherlock.

Stop thinking about her.

Shruti Singh.

Her golden-brown skin, her easy confidence, the way she fit into his space-Sherlock's space-like she belonged there. Like she had always belonged there.

John let out a sharp, shuddering breath, forcing the thought away.

Instead, he focused on Mary.

Mary, who had been his anchor after Sherlock's death. Mary, who had made life bearable when grief threatened to drown him.

He had been lost, and she had steadied him.

He owed her.

He loved her.

And he would not be an arse to her now just because of Sherlock bloody Holmes and his new flatmate.

Where Love And Lies Entwine

After 3 weeks of silence, John visits Baker Street, only to find Sherlock living with a woman. Jealousy hits hard, but Sherlock has moved on- or has he ? That night after his first time with a woman, a realisation strikes him - Am I falling for her? To answer, he must revisit how it all began... Thirty days ago, Sherlock found himself a case that would shake London's & the UK's criminal underworld. Sherlock finds the client 'intriguing'. Due to the intelligence provided by her, MI6 was successful in dismantling The Milvertons Drug Empire. Back in the present, as John endures a comically disastrous day, Sherlock & Shruti invite him & Mary for dinner. But the evening takes a darker turn when DI Hopkins calls Sherlock for another locked room murder -the third in a series of deadly assassinations. Mary reacts 'strangely'. Is she hiding something? And John wonders - Is Shruti here to 'stay' ?

My latest fic! It's 50% written. The rest being edited. Please subscribe in AO3 –if you like it enough to read more. It's an intriguing tale!

#sherlock fandom #sherlock fic #bbc sherlock #sherlock fanfic writers #my 4th fic #it has a strong OFC #where love and lies entwine #mary morstan #john watson #my fanfic writing #sherlock holmes

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