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royallyprincesslilly · 5 years ago

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Title: Quarantine: A Love Story {16}**

Chris Evans x Reader Series

Warning: Cursing, Angst, Fluff, SMUT, NSFW, LOTS OF WORDS

Words: 8.6k

Note: Okay, so this is no longer a mini-series, we’re at a full-fledged series. Recommended listening toward the end of this chapter is Ocean Eyes by Billie Eilish.

I hope you guys enjoy this. If you enjoyed this LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. Thank you for reading as always!!! ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

Previous Chapters: Q1 | Q2 | Q3 | Q4 | Q5 | Q6 | Q7 | Q8 | Q9 | Q10 | Q11 | Q12 | Q13 | Q14 | Q15 |

~~~~~~~~~~~

-Quarantine: Day 55-

What was left to do, but leave? Yeah, there was a pandemic raging in the world right now, and everything including said world was going to shit, but that didn’t mean that you couldn’t go this thing alone. You were born alone, have lived pretty much alone, and had no problem going through this nightmare alone. You didn’t need to be here. With the decision made, you wiped your tears, stood up, straightened your back, and walked to the bedroom with your head held high.

Once in the room, you began packing what you’d unpacked mere weeks ago. You began calmly, keeping your jaw clenched so you wouldn’t shed any more tears. After you’d gotten one dresser emptied, you looked up into the mirror and saw nickel-sized marks across your skin. Slowly you followed the trail that began on your stomach and went along your ribs over one breast. The trail didn’t stop; it went along your collar you disappeared behind your quickly frizzing hair. Just like that, you remembered his lips on your skin. You remembered him kissing you, licking you, nibbling you, tasting your skin until you felt as if you would leap out of your skin.

You flared your nose. It was always a mechanism you used to keep your tears at bay. It had been a long time since you had to use it. It felt as if you’d forgotten how because after almost a minute, you still felt close to tipping over the edge, and what was below you, was not something you wanted to be a part of. You gripped the edge of the furniture and squeezed.

“Come on, come on, come on. Work!”

You waited a few seconds, but still, the tears kept coming.

“Work, damn it!”

Nothing. The sting in your eyes only intensified.

“Fucking work!”

Your shout was loud, and it boomed off the walls for several seconds. When the echo faded, your tears streamed down your cheeks.

“Fuck,” you whispered, now using both your hands to hold onto the dresser. You took several deep breaths trying to practice the meditating breaths you learned. Groaning, you quickly realized that this wasn’t going to work either.

You walked out of the bedroom toward the bar area and filled a glass with the first bottle you took up. You didn’t care what it was, and you also didn’t care that it wasn’t exactly after five. It was drinking time somewhere—right? You knocked back the entire glass and hissed as the burn took over. Your belly filled with the fire you knew would come, and you welcomed it. You hoped it would dull everything else you were feeling.

You were so bent out of shape that you couldn’t even place any of your other feelings except anger. Your anger overshadowed everything. At the thought of your anger, you had thoughts about everything you’d felt over the last thirty-two hours.

“You’re all I want to see, Y/N,”

His voice echoed around you. It sounded like he was actually in the room with you. Bracing your hands on the bar, you closed your eyes and got sucked back into last night.

You could feel everything again like it was happening right now. It felt like his body was pressed against yours, like his hands were on your breasts, like his mouth was between your legs.

“Fuck!”

You poured another glass full and gulped it down, but even the burn down your throat was not enough to dull the lingering pleasure you still felt. He was in you.

“You look so fucking gorgeous with my dick in your mouth, Y/N.”

You groaned, and you could actually feel his dick in your mouth. There had to be something wrong with you. No dick was this good, you thought. No dick could have you all fucked up like this.

Biting your bottom lip, you sighed.

“You’re perfect, so perfect. I don’t deserve you.”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you tried to blot out his voice.

“I’ve imagined this moment for so long.”

You wanted to find him and kick him in the balls. A few weeks ago, you couldn’t imagine the thought of anything like what had happened in the last few hours ever happening. Now you were standing here with a drink in your hand, his voice in your head, and your desire for him writhing in you like an overriding virus.

“This dick ain’t nothing to laugh at.”

You slid the glass away and took the bottle up and brought it to your head instead. After two gulps, you felt it beginning to fade, felt him beginning to fade—almost.

“As you wish.”

His voice echoed this time, and with each echo, it faded until it was quiet, at least for a moment.

“I have you. I will always have you.”

Pushing through, you did your best to pull yourself together. When you got back to the bedroom, you finished packing, not wanting to waste any more time. The alcohol worked to slow your actions, but you were determined to get the hell out of there. The knock at the door startled you. You stood there as if you expected them to be able to hear you moving inside. The knock came again, then a voice.

“Y/N?”

You sighed, hearing Scott’s voice. The relief that flooded you quickly dissipated when you thought about telling him you were leaving. What reason would you give him? He knocked a third time, and that was when you grabbed your robe and wrapped yourself in it as you walked to the door.

“Y/N!”

When you opened it, Scott had his arms held open. “What the hell? Are you okay? You didn’t come to dinner last night or breakfast this morning. You’ve been MIA.”

“I know. I wasn’t feeling well. I just wanted to lay low in case it was ya’ know.”

“COVID? How would you have gotten it? You’re being paranoid,” Scott filled in.

“Yeah, you’re right. I just wasn’t feeling well.”

“You need some food. Come on, mom just put dinner out. I was sent to get you.”

“Uh, no. Scott I just--,” you began before he cut you off.

“No. No more excuses. You gotta eat. Let’s go.” He was walking away before you even responded.

“No, Scott--.”

“Let’s go now, or I’ll tell mom you’re refusing her cooking because you think her food is disgusting.”

Your jaw dropped.

“Really?”

“Really. You know I’ll do it.” With that, he was gone.

You dropped your head back and groaned before going back inside to get dressed. You knew he would do some bullshit like that. The last thing in the world you wanted was to hurt Lisa. You spent the next ten minutes putting yourself together enough both on the outside and the inside that no one would suspect anything. It was harder than it should have been.

By the time you got to the house and walked into the dining room, you saw everyone sitting around the table. They all lit up when they saw you. The closer you got, you forced yourself to smile until you saw him. Chris was sitting at the table with his fingers steepled under his chin and elbows on the table. His eyes were glued to you. Quickly you looked away and shrugged him off.

“Are you all right? Scott said you haven’t been feeling well,” Lisa mentioned as she approached you with arms open.

“Yeah. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to worry anyone.”

“Oh honey, of course, we worry,” Lisa said in her motherly voice as she pressed the back of her hand to your forehead. The action made you smile.

“You’re not warm. Maybe my lasagna will fix you right up. come.” She led you to your seat beside Scott and three seats away from Chris.

“You look exhausted,” Carly said.

“Yeah—I haven’t been getting much sleep,” you began as you took up your fork. Hearing how it could have been interpreted, you quickly fixed it. “Work! I mean, it’s because of work.”

They nodded but looked as if they didn’t need the extra explanation. Sighing, you began to eat your food in silence. They spoke around you, but you didn’t listen, you were lost in your own thoughts as you tried to formulate a plan on how to best leave without causing a ruckus. You couldn’t leave in the middle of the night because that would have been wrong, and you needed someone to drive you back to Boston. When you thought of that, you let out a huff.

“Y/N,” Shanna began. You looked to her friendly inquisitive face. “You okay?”

Pasting a smile on, you nodded. “I’m good. I’m sorry, just thinking of my to-do list. Since this pandemic work has really picked up, you’d think it would slow down but nope.”

You were good at thinking on your feet. It was a quality you had to have to succeed in your career and your life. Shanna nodded and went back to eating, as did you. You could feel Chris’s eyes on you, tempting you to look at him. Using all your will, you refused and kept your eyes planted downward to your plate. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

After an uncomfortable dinner, you sat through a few minutes of talk and calm all the while staying as far from Chris as possible. The funny thing to you was that with him staying away from you, no one was suspicious. He was carrying on as usual. Everyone else had remained the same. It was just you and him who had changed. You’d elevated, gone to a whole different plane of existence. That is what it felt like in that forest bubble--until it popped.

You couldn’t get over what he’d said.

“You’ve fucked a lot of guys!”

Thinking about it again, you wanted to leap across the room and go wolverine on his ass. How dare he? When you looked over to him, you found his eyes planted right on you. They were beautiful, no doubt, but they were also the eyes of an asshole. You rolled yours, stood, and walked away toward the kitchen. Once inside, you walked around the island three times using the movement to get your rising anger under control.

When the door opened, you turned to see Scott.

“You’ve been weird all night. Talk to me.”

You studied him trying to decide if you could tell him you’d had sex with his brother. You remembered what Chris had said that he’d made a promise to him. If you revealed it now you would start problems, problems you didn’t want to start.

“I’m fine, Scott, tired but fine.”

He studied you for a full minute before he nodded.

“Okay. Go get some sleep; I’ll make an excuse for you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Go through the front.”

You walked to him, gave him a quick hug, and did as he said. Before you walked out the door, you grabbed Scott’s car keys from the key hook on the wall that housed everyone’s keys. You’d convinced yourself he wouldn’t mind, and he’d understand. Once you were outside, you took a few deep breaths and moaned from the scent of the salty air. You were tempted to go for one last walk on the beach, but you had a feeling if you did that, you wouldn’t leave. Walking around the house the long way, you looked over the bank to the tall grass and beach down below. There was nothing quite like the beach at night. You stopped at the fork in your path. One way led to the beach and another night here with all that had happened, and the other led to the guesthouse where your bags were waiting. You must have stood there for ten minutes before you walked back to the guesthouse.

Once inside, you gathered the rest of your things and waited until you knew everyone would be asleep. An hour passed with you sitting in the living room with your feet on the wooden coffee table, just staring at a lit candle. As the flame danced, your thoughts flitted from topic to topic. You began with going over every detail of the date, every word spoken, facial expression, body gesture, none of it escaped your focus now. Moving on, you went to every sensation, from scent, taste, and sound when both of you decided that you were going to cross that line. It wasn’t an unconscious choice. It was one both of you willingly made. Those thoughts brought you to everything leading up to you feeling him move inside of you. Again, not one detail missed you.

You’d learned long ago that though something was unpleasant to think about, you had to acknowledge it in order to move on. You’d acknowledged everything that had made you the way you were and dealt with it. You’d found a way to use it as fuel, that was until last night. Something shifted; something changed your outlook; something made you feel.

“It was him, you idiot!”

You quickly sat up and groaned out, digging your hands in your hair. It was full-on puff now, long gone were your tame curls and coils. Thanks to your willingness to be carefree and adventurous, your hair was paying the price. You vowed to yourself that once you got back to your apartment, you’d treat yourself to a whole wash day routine. With that thought, you remembered his words.

“I’m willing to learn.”

You kissed your teeth and stood. You were tired of waiting. Taking up your bags and balancing them as well as you could, you opened the door and stopped in your tracks. There was Chris with his hand raised, ready to knock.

“Son of a bitch!”

His eyes dropped to the bags in your hands, and he took a step to you. Quickly, you backed away, dropping a bag in the process. Chris took a step to you, and you took another back.

“Y/N,” he began.

“Shut the fuck up and get out. Go away.”

He didn’t listen. He took another step inside the guesthouse. Even when you made every attempt to get away from him, he didn’t get the hint. Finally, you dropped your bags and walked as far from him as possible.

“Y/N, let me explain, please.”

“Explain? Fuck you!”

Your shout was louder than it should have been. Realizing it, you clenched your jaws, trying to keep the rage from pouring over.

“Y/N, please. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. It slipped out,” Chris frantically said as he closed the space between you.

Thanks to the wall behind you, you had nowhere to go. Pushing him back only sent him a few inches from you. It was enough of a distance for you to move out of the confined space you were in, but you weren’t quick enough that Chris wasn’t able to wrap his hand around your wrist to pull you back to him.

“I’m sorry.”

You did it before you thought it. Swinging your hand out, it connected with his cheek in a loud slap. He looked shocked, but he didn’t look angry. You wanted to make him angry so that he could feel some of yours. You slapped him again and again. On the fourth swing , Chris caught your wrist. The clench in his jaw was tight.

“I deserve that,” he grumbled.

“Why do you deserve it? Because you called me a fucking whore!?”

“I didn’t mean to, I swear. I promise, Y/N.”

You pulled away from him, roughly nearly losing your balance in the process. “Fuck you and your promises Chris! They mean shit—you mean shit.”

“You don’t mean that. Come on. What more can I say to prove to you that I didn’t mean it?”

“Nothing. I’m done. I’m leaving.”

You hurried to your bags and began gathering them. Before you got half of them, Chris was on you, forcing you to drop them yet again.

“Y/N, come on. You can’t leave. It’s not safe for you out there.”

“I’d rather take my chances out there than in here with a man like you!”

He looked hurt by that one, and you were glad for it. “Y/N, come on--,” he began.

“Come on? Chris, there is nothing you could say to me.”

You grabbed your bags again and threw open the door.

“I can’t let you leave, Y/N. I can’t just let you walk out of here.”

“Why?!”

“Because of how I feel about you!”

That had you freezing in your tracks. As the words sank in for you, you turned to him.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N. I’m sorry for what I said. It was a stupid thing to say, one I didn’t even think about. I was angry, and I just said it. I didn’t mean it,” Chris blurted out, trying to keep his voice low.

“Some part of you must mean it, some part of you must have felt this way. You must think I’m some whore who fucks every dick she comes across. That must be it right, Chris! I fuck everyone right, Andre, Marcus, Wayne, Charles, hell even you. Congratulations!”

You made it past him and out to the pool, but he still didn’t give up. Chris got in front of you, but you didn’t stop.

“Move!”

“No. Come on, Y/N. You know you felt it last night. You know you felt it this morning and this afternoon. You felt it.”

“I felt nothing!”

“Bullshit! I was there. I was right there with you. I was on top of you staring in your eyes, and I saw it. I felt it when I was inside of you. You’re lying, and we both know it.”

Ignoring the words coming from his mouth, you pushed past him and made your way around the house.

“You’ve been inside of a lot of women. You probably don’t know what you feel anymore.”

“Jeez, come on. Yes, I’ve slept with a lot of women, and I should never have even thought to say those words to you. That’s it though, I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry, really, I am.”

“You’re sorry. How many women have you said those words to? Two, ten, fifteen?”

“None of them are important to me. You do, Y/N. You do.”

“Bullshit! I’ve never mattered to you.”

That was when he pulled you back to him. As you collided with his body, your bags fell to the floor again.

“You’re the only person who has mattered to me in the last three years. You are the only woman that I care about that is not in my family! You, Y/N! I don’t understand how you can’t see it. How is it still this hard for you to get it? You matter to me, you always have mattered. I think about you all the time. I worry about you more than I worry about anyone else. I dream about you, and in my dream, it’s always you and me. I respect you so much, it’s incredible to think we’ve barely spoken in these years, but I know so much about you. I respect you so much, even though you’ve hated me all these years. Y/N, I value you. I’m sorry for how I behaved. I’m sorry that I said those words.” The emotion in his voice was clear to hear.

You stood there, frozen. The look in his eyes said he meant them. His eyes said he felt them and was pleading with you to feel them too—hear them too. There was a war inside of you that was waging so fierce that you couldn’t think straight. Part of you wanted to still leave while the other part—a part that was growing in size wanted to stay with him.

“Please stay, Y/N. Please. Let me make this right. Let me fix this. Let me prove to you that you matter to me, let me show you that this means everything to me.”

Chris cupped your skull and pressed his forehead to yours. His skin was hot; you were sure it was always this hot.

“Please—I don’t want to let you go—not again.”

“Fuck,” you whispered.

“Please.”

You had no voice to respond; all you could do was nod. Chris released a loud sigh that told you he’d been drinking. He pressed his lips to your forehead, then pulled back. You watched him pick up your bags then look back to you. He was asking a question. Can I? Chris reached his hand to touch your cheek and slid his thumb across it. When he brought his hand away, you saw it was wet. You were crying.

Chris took your hand and led you back along the path you’d just walked, back to the guesthouse you were so ready to leave. As Chris led you back around the pool, you stared at his hand entwined with yours and sighed. It felt right. You just hoped that by giving in to this “right” wouldn’t turn everything wrong.

Once you reached the guesthouse, Chris placed your bags in the living room, turned to you, and cupped your cheeks. “Give me thirty minutes, and I’ll come right back for you. can you do that?”

You studied his eyes, peering deeply into them, trying to read him thoroughly. You bit your bottom lip when you saw that you wouldn’t see anything different than what he wanted you to see. You knew he had secrets. You nodded, giving him his answer. Chris then kissed your forehead again and walked out of the guestroom, leaving you alone once again.

You don’t know how long you stood in the doorway, but you stood there all the same, just staring out into the darkness. When one of your legs fell asleep, you closed the door and walked to the couch. Once before the candle, you’d just blown out you lit it again, sat, and watched it. As you stared in the flame, you tried to stave off the feeling that you were being weak and ignore the thoughts that still told you to leave that you’d be better off.

Everything from his past indicated that he would end up hurting you. He’d been one way with every woman in his life before. What was so different about you? Why would he be any different with you? Hell, he probably had the power to absolutely wreck you. Your mental freak out quickly took over making you jump to your feet. After pacing the living room for what felt like seconds, you heard the knock at your door. You didn’t open it right away. You just stared at the door. He probably could have opened it himself, but he didn’t.

Walking toward it, you stopped with your hand on the knob and took a few breaths. When you opened it, Chris was standing there patiently with one hand behind his back. The two of you stared at each other for several moments before he revealed his hand, showing you a bouquet of picked flowers. You scoffed and shook your head. His mother was going to kill him. You took the flowers that were completely different than the ones he’d given you the other night. While those were bright thanks to the yellow sunflowers, these were also bright but in a different way. The mix of red and white tulips complimented each other but also looked as if they didn’t belong together. Regardless, they were beautiful.

Chris held his hand out to you and waited for you to decide to take it. When almost fifteen seconds passed before you took it, he didn’t sigh or huff and puff, he remained calm and accommodating. When you put your hand in his, you watched his fingers wrap around your hand. He then raised it to his lips and kissed it once then twice. Once his lips touched your hand, your skin tingled, and from there, it never stopped.

Chris slowly led you out of the guesthouse and allowed you to close the door behind you before he continued to lead the way to wherever he was taking you. When he cut away from the house to the steps that led to the beach, you guessed what he had planned. He took his time leading you down the steps carefully to ensure your safety was paramount. When you stepped onto the sand, Chris looked back to you as if asking if he could or should keep going. When you didn’t object, he continued to walk you down the beach toward the shore.

Once there, you saw a fire lit path along the beach leading to the warm glow of a fire in the distance. It stopped you in your tracks.

“You okay?”

Were you okay? You knew if you went over there and saw what he’d done, you’d probably forgive the bullshit he said earlier. You didn’t know if you wanted to forgive him. You wanted to make him suffer for as long as possible. You were also curious about just how he thought he could make things right. Releasing a huff of breath, you nodded. Chris continued the walk down the shore toward his destination. When you reached the lit path, you just stared at the small flames that looked to be medium-sized tealight candles. It was beautiful.

The closer you got, the more you could see, and the more you saw, the more the butterflies in your belly fluttered. When you’d stopped walking, you were standing in front of a large blanket with two cushioned pillows placed on them along with a large wooden butcher block trey. On the block was a decanter of amber looking liquid, a few containers that were covered, glasses, and a gift box. Across the blanket were scattered rose petals, and before the blanket was a hot roaring fire.

“Sit down,” Chris advised. You kicked off your slippers and walked across the blanket to find a good spot.

As you sat on the cushion, you looked up at Chris and watched him as he took his seat across from you. His shirt showed his St. Christopher medal between both his tattoos on his chest. The sight of those tattoos made you bite your bottom lip. You remembered touching that chest, feeling his skin, and the muscles as it danced underneath your hand. You remembered just what it felt like—what he looked like above you with that medal hanging down dangling in front of you.

“You haven’t said a word since we were outside the house. What’re you thinking?”

You took a deep breath as you toyed with the petals of the flowers you still held. “Your mother is going to kill you when she realizes these are gone, and you are the culprit.”

Chris snorted and shrugged. “I’ll laugh in the face of danger.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. He was an idiot. His mother would beat his ass red.

“You’re such a liar, you know she’ll beat you down.”

Chris nodded. “Yeah, maybe, but it would have been worth it.”

Your eyes met and remained on each other. In the firelight, they looked darker but sexy nonetheless. The man didn’t even have to work for pussy, he probably just said shit like that. Scoffing, you put the flowers to the side.

“They’re beautiful. I love them.”

“I’m glad. Do you know the meaning of tulips?”

“Do you?”

“My mom made sure I knew. Sometimes I’d sit with her and plant in the garden when I was a kid. She’d tell me about every flower she planted. She’d tell me what they meant, how to care for them. It was a whole process,” Chris explained.

“Oh yeah? What’d you learn?”

Chris reached for the decanter, opened it, and poured the brown-tinted liquid into both glasses. Once they were half-filled, he held one out to you. Your fingers grazed as you took the glass from him, and they lingered together.

“She told me that tulips were special. They were originally cultivated in the Ottoman Empire, which is now Turkey and brought to Holland. Even though everyone thinks that is where they are initially from. There once was a time when they were one of the most coveted flowers. It’s not hard to see. Mom told me that tulips usually symbolized the beginning of spring. They usually spout then and stay throughout and sometimes through summer.”

Chris paused for a moment as if he were gathering his thoughts, then continued.

“Her words, It’s like a reminder of what spring symbolizes renewal, rebirth, peace, joy, and happiness. White tulips say I’m sorry. They are a symbol used to beg for forgiveness, a way to say I was a stupid asshole, and I deserve every minute of agony you want to make me feel, I was a jackass who made a huge mistake, a jackass who just showed you how much I don’t deserve a woman like you. They mean I respect you more than I’ve ever respected any woman I’ve been with it’s fucked up but true. The cream-colored one in there means something much more.”

You gulped the liquid and hissed at the burn. He was saying all the right things.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Staring in his eyes, you almost felt as if you were being hypnotized, or put under a spell. You knew he meant the words. Looking down at the glass, you cleared your throat.

“What do the red ones mean?”

You watched him as you took another gulp of the Whiskey. You liked the brown sugar undertones and the slightly smoky flavor that filled your mouth.

“The red ones--,” Chris began before he emptied his glass and stared into the open fire.

Instead of speaking, he reached for two thin long wooden skewers and handed you one. After you took it, he opened the containers on the wooden trey revealing jumbo marshmallows, graham crackers, Hershey's milk chocolate squares, cookies n’ mint chocolate, and recces peanut butter cups. Just like that, you knew where this was going.

“S’mores still your favorite thing in the world?”

You couldn’t hold back the smile that spread across your face. Not many people knew it, but they were. You looked at him and sucked your bottom lip into your mouth.

“Of course they are,” Chris filled in as he brought the bowl with the marshmallows to you for you to pick one. You did and plopped it onto the end of your skewer. You were excited. You hadn’t made s’mores in forever, which meant you hadn’t had one in just as long.

You shimmied closer to the fire and stuck your skewer into the flames and watched as the outside of the marshmallow began to change.

“How do you know so much about me?”

“I pay attention.”

You watched his hand holding the skewer and followed the trail along his exposed skin to his bicep. That was where your eyes and train of thought stopped.

“Why did you pay attention to me?”

“How could I not? You’re eye-catching—impossible to miss. I paid attention because you mattered to me. You still do.”

Again your eyes lingered, and suddenly, the respectable space between you felt like too much.

“I didn’t mean to piss you off,” Chris finished.

You looked into the fire and sighed. “You hurt me,” you whispered. You didn’t think it was audible, but when you saw him place his skewer down on the wooden table and move next to you sitting with his legs open, so you and the cushion you sat on were between them you knew he’d heard you loud and clear.

“Y/N,” Chris began in such a soft voice you had no other choice but to look at him. When you did, he took your skewer and put it beside his. Then he led you down to the blanket to replicate the way he sat before you.

“I never meant to hurt you. I never want to hurt you—not you.”

“You did.”

“I’m so sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am. I didn’t want to hurt you, and it tears me up that I did. I won’t do it again. I swear—I promise.”

You looked down. You hated promises. People who made them always broke them. Chris brought your face back to his.

“I mean it, Y/N. I've never been big on promises, hell I’ve never made a promise for the simple fact that I knew I’d break it and I never care enough to make an effort to keep them. I promise you right here, right now. I will never hurt you again.”

Staring into his eyes, you looked for any hint of a lie, any hint of the bullshit he might have been spewing. After nearly a minute, you saw none. Was he telling the truth, you wondered. To lighten the mood, you changed the subject.

“No matter how much you think you know about me, you don’t know this. I’ve only slept with six guys, not including you. six that’s it.”

Chris nodded. “I don’t care; really, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do. I don’t know why you do, but you do.”

“I may have been living my life doing whatever I wanted while you were doing the same, but I wanted you the whole time. If it makes sense, I never allowed any of them to get to this level,” Chris confessed.

“What level?”

“The level where a connection could be felt. I’ve felt this connection since the day we met, and today it’s stronger than it has ever been. I’ve never wanted them the way I want you.”

“My body,” you began.

“—I don’t give a shit about your body. This has never been about me getting in your panties.”

“Then what is it about Chris?

“What is it about for you?”

You hadn’t expected him to throw this back to you. Your shock was evident. You didn’t want to confess a damn thing to him.

“You have to trust me, Y/N.”

“I don’t have to trust you. I don’t have to do anything,” you blurted out. Chris nodded and looked down at the blanket.

“You want to. I can see it in your eyes. I can see it when I touch you. I can see it every time we’re close like this. Y/N, you want to trust me. You can.”

You searched his eyes. He was right. For some reason, you wanted to trust him. For some reason, a very, very small voice inside of you said you should.

“I trust you, Y/N,” Chris said on a whisper as he brought his face closer to yours. He didn’t kiss you, just hovered his face close to yours.

“That night, the next morning, this—none of this has ever been about sex for me. I could never do that to you. You deserve so much more than that.”

Long moments passed, and the silence stretched. All the two of you did was gaze into each other’s eyes. Each of you searching for something in the other, each of you trying to find the courage to take the necessary step. Each of you trying to think of the right thing to say or do. Neither of you finding anything you were searching for. Neither of you being able to be the first to leap. You lowered your head and tried to slow your racing heart.

“I forgive you.”

“You do? Why?”

You snorted and looked back up at him. “So, I shouldn’t?”

“No, it’s just I know you, and nothing is easy with you.”

Your smile spread across your face. “So this was easy? An hour ago, I was ready to drive off and leave your pale ass in the darkness like a nightlight,” you reminded. Chris smiled and shook his head.

“Wow, you went there.”

“I did. I said what I meant, and I meant what I said,” you teased. The smile on his face was an affectionate one. The warmness you felt was not because of the roaring fire before you. It was from something else, and he was the root of it.

“I forgive you because I’ve known you for three years, and I know you can be a dick and say some asshole things. You’ve apologized and did all this—I believe you’re sorry.”

“I am, really really sorry,” Chris added as he lifted your chin, so you were looking in his eyes again. “I mean it.”

You searched his eyes again and tried to listen to the side of you that was the minority telling you to believe him and trust him. You nodded. The moment stretched with the two of you gazing into each other’s eyes as the fire danced. You did not miss the intimacy of the moment. When Chris slowly moved into you, you allowed him to press his lips to yours. He didn’t move to deepen it, though; he just kept your lips together. The proximity of his body, coupled with the intimacy and the atmosphere, had your heart racing.

You opened your eyes and watched him. After a few seconds, Chris opened his eyes and stared into yours, and that only intensified the connection you felt between you. Chris deepened the kiss, and you quickly got lost in it before you pulled away.

“Just so we’re clear, I’ve only slept with--,” you began before Chris put his finger over your lips, stopping your words.

“I don’t need to know. it’s not important.”

“Yes, you do, and it is. I’ve only slept with seven guys, including you. I’ve dated, yes, but most of them have never gotten that deep.”

“I really wasn’t trying to insinuate that you slept around, Y/N. I know you like to party and have a good time and enjoy having men make asses out of themselves for your entertainment, but I never once thought you were sleeping around.”

You didn’t know if you believe him, but you nodded.

“I’m not a big of a man whore as you guys like to think,” Chris began. You gave him a “boy don’t even start” look to which he snorted.

“I’m being serious. Yes, there have been a few, but I’m not in three digits.”

You reared back, giving him a disgusted look.

“Three digits Chris!” He laughed, slapping his hand across his chest. You were not in the mood.

“Don’t play with me, Chris!”

“Not three digits, I promise. Seventeen.”

It was a higher number than yours, but it wasn’t as high as you’d expected. You thought he had no self-control, and everything with legs and brunette hair had gotten it.

“Lower than you thought, huh.” You snorted and shook your head.

“See, I’m not as bad as you, Scott, and the other like to make me out to be.”

“Fine, Chris, you’re not a big of a man-whore as I thought. Happy?”

He smiled and shrugged. “I’m appeased—minimally.”

You laughed again, throwing your head back. When you brought it back, he was watching you.

“I’d ask for a do-over if I had known this was possible.”

He said it so low you almost missed it.

“You mean that much to me, Y/N.”

You pulled his head to yours and softly kissed him, focusing on everything the kiss made you feel—tenderness, warmth, fireworks. The man could kiss. Chris pulled away from you before it got out of hand.

“Behave, I brought you here for this, not my body,” he teased before he took up the sticks.

You sat there, holding your marshmallow into the fire in comfortable silence. Every now and then, Chris would nudge your shoulder with his only to have you nudge him right back, which had the two of you looking at each other to kiss some more before going back to your marshmallows.

After a few minutes, you’d burned ten marshmallows from neither of you being able to focus on the task at hand. When you both finally had one marshmallow roasted to perfection, you each made your s’more. Chris used the cookies n’ mint squares while you used the peanut butter and milk chocolate ones. When you bit into your s’more, you moaned when you found caramel in the mix too. For the next fifteen minutes or so, the two of you roasted marshmallows and made smores to your heart’s content. It was perfect.

When the graham crackers were gone, things got messy with you roasting marshmallows to put chocolate chunks on top of the marshmallow to eat. It didn’t take long for Chris to smear marshmallow on your exposed shoulder, and it took him even less time to lick it off. That began the cycle of him putting melted marshmallow on your skin to lick and suck off while you dripped melting chocolate on him to return the favor.

When the sweets and wine were finished, you laid cuddled on the blanket, watching the stars listening to the crack of the fire and the crash of the waves.

“I want to stay here forever,” Chris whispered.

“Forever?”

He looked down at you as you met his eyes. You didn’t recognize the look on his face.

“Forever,” he repeated.

“Forever is a long time.”

He didn’t look phased, or even like he would change his mind.

“You promise?”

It took some time, but you nodded your response. Chris rolled onto you and kissed you in the way that made you forget everything. Your hands found the hem of his shirt and raised it until you’d pulled it off of him. Your fingers danced across the muscles in his back until they’d reached his pants. Chris continued to kiss you as if he had a point to make, a point that you needed to understand. The urgency in his kiss increased, and that urgency sparked your own hidden one. Your desire unfurled in your belly and raced through you.

Bringing your hands around to the buckle of his pants, you quickly undid them and pulled them lower on his hips. Chris didn’t seem as if he were in any hurry, though, so he remained hovered over you while kissing you dumb. Your eyes met, and every wall you’d built suddenly collapsed from just the look in his eyes.

“I’m scared of you,” Chris whispered.

He had to be kidding, you thought. He was scared of you? You had no idea what to say to that. Thankfully he didn’t seem as if he wanted you to respond.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Y/N.” Chris pressed his forehead to yours and further nudged the war within you.

You could feel his need pressing onto your core, and that was igniting a need within you that you weren’t sure you could contain. The slight shake you felt from his body screamed of how vulnerable he was at this moment. Your body wanted him, and for the first time, you faced the fact that your heart wanted the same thing.

“Then don’t.”

He kissed you once, twice, and third before backed away from you sitting on his haunches. You sat up and kissed him.

“I always fuck up. I don’t want to fuck this up.”

You touched his cheek and caressed it.

“I don’t want to lose—this,” Chris finished.

You kissed him again only this time you let your feelings shine through. You allowed your fear, your desire, your attraction, your intrigue and something you worried was a lot more than affection. Chris moaned and held you closer to his body and kissed you back with just as much hunger and need as you kissed him. You lifted your shirt off and met his eyes again. Chris pulled his pants down, then stood to take them off. The reprieve gave you time to undo your shorts. Chris met you halfway and finished the rest. As he pulled them off of your legs, he kissed your shin before he pressed his body back to yours to claim your lips once more.

Rolling on top of him, you straddled his body. Kissing him was easy, thanks to his sitting position. His hands spread across your back, making you feel small and delicate. When his lips dipped to your neck to nip and suck the skin there, you threw your head back. The action gave him new freedom to clap his lips around your nipple. As you hugged his head to your chest, you rocked against him, which sent Chris’s hands down to cup your thonged ass.

After licking and teasing one nipple, he moved to the next to nibble and bite, giving you the best of both worlds—his tenderness and his aggressiveness. You dug your hands into his hair and pulled it, bringing his eyes to yours. He looked open and completely transparent.

“Do you want me, Chris?”

“All I want is you, Y/N.” He crashed his lips to yours and flipped you onto your back while he spread your arms out on the blanket while entwining his fingers with yours. You believed him, and you tried not to be scared of it.

Chris moved his lips across your skin and down your body until he’d pulled off your underwear and buried his face between your legs with them draped over his shoulders. You loudly gasped out, angling your head back to gaze at the star-filled sky. The way he rolled his tongue and sucked your skin had you barreling toward your release. With the sound of the waves crashing with the warmth of the fire and the beauty of the stars over you, it was easy to press this to memory.

In a matter of a few short minutes, you’d trapped Chris's head between your thighs as you came with him, not letting up, not even a little. You didn’t even realize it, but you’d screamed out before you could stop yourself.

“Fuuuuck, Chris!”

As if that was what he wanted to hear, he came up to you. When you attempted to kiss him, he jerked back, smirking. Every attempt you made, he slipped away with a smile that spoke of playfulness. On the fifth attempt, you wrapped your legs around his waist, holding him there so your lips could claim his. Both of you moaned and battled for control. Yours was a fake battle. You didn't mind not being in control right now.

You rolled onto him and sat on his throbbing hardness as he groaned from the contact. His lips were glued to you once again as if he needed them for survival. Neither of you seemed in a hurry to move forward, you both just kissed and teased each other with licks, nibbles, caresses, and cuddles until you both nearly lost your minds. When the rocking of your hips became too much, Chris held your hips steadying you.

“I don’t have a condom,” he whispered.

Usually, those words would have been like a douse of ice-cold water and an automatic repellant. In this situation with him tonight, somehow, they weren’t.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about it putting one in my pocket. Tonight wasn’t supposed to get here. I’m--,” Chris rambled before you kissed him again.

He did all of this on the beach and hadn’t expected sex. He did this from his heart for you. It was a sweet admission. Pressing your forehead to his, you tried to catch your breath. “It’s—okay.”

Chris reared back to look into your eyes. He didn’t look confused; he looked cautious. “It’s okay?”

That was when your nerves picked up. Was it?

“Is it?”

Chris opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You began to worry that you’d said the wrong thing, and now he was freaked out. Why weren’t you freaked out? You literally just gave him permission to go raw. Did you? You couldn’t believe those words came out of your mouth when you’d been religious every single time.

“It’s—okay with me,” Chris slowly said. He sounded shocked at the words he said.

“Is it? Are you sure?”

He pulled you closer as if you’d somehow drifted too far from him. “Me? Are you sure?”

Staring into his ocean-like eyes, you nodded. You were sure.

The two of you remained still for a few moments as if allowing the intent to marinate.

“I’ve never--,” Chris began.

“Me neither,” you quickly followed.

His smile was so sweet you couldn’t help but smile with him.

“I trust you,” Chris finished.

You felt as if you should have said the words back, but still, something held you back from actually voicing what your head was clearly telling you that you felt. Instead of speaking, you nodded. He kissed you again and softly caressed your back. Everywhere he touched felt as if he left a trail of fire in his wake. The man was as intoxicating as the flames behind you. Getting lost in his kisses once again, you began rocking against him but only managed a few rolls before your arousal peaked.

Raising onto your knees, you angled yourself over his need. His eyes bored into you, and it looked as if he were holding his breath. Slowly you slid down his length. Every inch had you shaking as he sank his fingertips into your skin.

“Shit,” You whispered just before he filled you completely.

For a few seconds, neither of you moved, you just allowed the sensations to wash over you and cement what you both just did. Chris peppered kisses across your collar as he held you close to him. It was Chris who moved your body against him, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. Both of you groaned loudly, and you were the one to move next. Slowly you rocked against him, gradually picking up your speed. Chris rolled his head back as he leaned to watch you move. He felt good, too good.

You raised onto your knees and began bouncing on him.

“Jesus Chris!” He held your hips and took over, slamming you down onto his cock.

With every connection, you gasped louder and louder. Soon it was Chris controlling your movements, using your body to bring you both to completion. You knew you weren’t going to last long. When you gripped his shoulders, you stood on your tiptoes and took control back. That was when Chris’s moans became louder, and the intensity in his eyes picked up.

“Yes, yes, yes! Oh god baby, I’m gonna come,” Chris warned.

“Me too,” you whined. Chris planted his hands on the blanket and rose his hips up to meet you as you came down.

“Oh, fuck!”

You both only lasted four more strokes before you were coming together. Chris pulled you down with him back to the blanket to wrap you in his massive arms. Both of you rode the wave of your shared release, not caring if anyone walked onto the beach to catch you. The moment was too perfect to think about reality.

After a full ten minutes, Chris was the one to roll onto you to smile down at you.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded before he kissed you. “Are you?”

Chris shook his head. “I want you.”

You snorted and shook your head. “Who knew you were so insatiable, Evans.”

You could feel him hardening again inside you.

“When it comes to you—damn right, I am.”

Chris rocked into you, reawakening your desire for him. The man was going to be the death of you. Death by dick, it was a thing, it had to be.

For the next few hours, the two of you did what two naked bodies did best. Position after position, the man kept going and going and going. You weren’t complaining; you were surprised. He was pushing forty and was able to serve up quality dick back to back to back. In your coital insanity bubble, the two of you thought it was a good idea to dip into the ocean, and that turned into ocean sex. You were checking off so many firsts with him in one night you didn’t know if there would be much else to do for the rest of this quarantine.

The only reason you stopped when you saw the first hints of navy and grey in the sky was because the fire had died, and the air was nippy. You watched Chris gather the items in his full naked glory. The darkness still hid him from you for the most part, but the view was still the best view. You were delirious, so delirious that after he hid everything in the tall grasses to come back for later, he scooped you into his arms and carried you back to the guest house with the darkness as your cover.

Once inside, the two of you took a shower together that was filled with lavender-scented bubbles, giggles, kisses, and cuddles. That was when Chris co-washed your hair for you taking his time to do it properly. By the time the two of you climbed into the bed, the sky was turning a beautiful shade of pink.

You’d think it was sleep both of you did, but sleep was the farthest thing from either of your minds.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***If you want to be tagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List:

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#quarantine: a love story fic #Q16 #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x black reader #black fanfiction #angst fanfic #slow burn fanfic

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lihikainanea · 4 years ago

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Heyy ^^ i found ur blog yesterday and ive been ADDICTED to ur BFF!Bill stories!! they're so so good! I was wondering if you could write something about them both being on a plane, and when turbulence starts to happen tiger is just freaking out and bill has to calm and comfort her. omg that would be so adorable. also maybe them being cute at the airport before the flight, because tiger is all sleepy and soft. as you can tell, i've been desperate for some fluff hahah xx

HELLO NEW FRENN.

First of all, welcome bubs. Welcome welcome welcome to my crazy little corner of the interweb universe, I’m so happy that you stopped by and I’m so happy that you enjoy my insane babbles! do you have a favourite? I love hearing about your favourites.

Second of all, it’s strange to me that the people who are only starting to follow me now--ya’ll know a really special side of me. You know a weird, out of normal side of me. Because my job--I don’t talk about it--but normally, my job is 90% travel. Before this zombie virus hit, for years I was away for about 250-300 days a year. In 2019, I visited LA, Egypt, Iceland, London, Paris, Stockholm, Hong Kong, Japan, Cyprus, Ghana, Colombia, Phuket, Qatar, Milan, Bali, Stockholm, Abu Dhabi, Denmark, Norway--and that’s just to name a few. I was never home. I lived my life at 35,000 feet, in hotel rooms, never quite sure what continent I was on or what time zone I was in--and I loved it. That was the life for me.

And then 2020 hit and I just haven’t been the same since. In fact--because I think it’s important to talk about these things--this has hit me really hard lately, this nostalgia, this longing. And the main topic of my therapy sessions these days has been allowing myself to grieve for a life that I loved, that I may never get back. It’s rough, it’s really intense, and therapy has left me totally drained lately.

I have a few airport-comfort pieces on my #vacation bill tag on my Masterlist, because it meant so much to me at one point in my life. Don’t get me wrong, I was always treated very well when I flew and I had a lot of perks--but sometimes, sometimes it was hard too. When I was on malaria pills and only a few weeks out of a yellow fever vaccine, suffering from an insanely sensitive stomach in Ghana? I was curled up at the airport as my boss slowly gave me carbonated water, and I wanted to die. Curling up and just wanting to pass out on my 5th flight that was trying to get me to Vietnam, when I had no idea what day or what time it was, and all I wanted was to sleep--knowing that when I landed, I had 28 working hours ahead of me. That trip was hard. It was a lot of planes rides for short periods--so right as I started to drift off my seat would be slammed back into upright position, we were landing, and I had to shuffle out and shuffle onto another plane.

In any case, please let me indulge a moment in this because I am always here for Bill comforting tiger in all scenarios.

Bill flies a lot, so he’s used to all of it. He knows airports are chilly, and airplanes are often even more chilly. He knows that tiger errs on the side of cold always anyway, so he packs a few extra sweaters just because he knows that like...she doesn’t. She doesn’t think of it. And make no mistake, the extra sweaters are for him--because he always gives her the sweater off his back. She’s more comforted that way, it’s warm and it smells like him and she always huddles into it.

And it’s not that travelling stresses tiger out--she quite enjoys it actually--but it’s all just so thrilling, that sometimes she has a hard time focusing. Bill is a high roller, man he has access to all the lounges and always either flies business class, or is ballin’ enough to be bumped to business class just when the airline agents see how many points he has. And tiger is just taking it all in--the wine in the lounge, the fanciness of it all, the prestige. She’s all up in ends and Bill has to help kind of ground her--just be that steady presence that keeps her in check, tells her to eat. He fixes a plate for her always, because tiger is like a kid in a candy store and there’s just so much to be amazed about. He thinks it’s adorable, god she makes his heart skip a few beats, but he knows she’s also looking for a bit of stability, some anchor that she can hold onto amidst all the excitement--and that’s what he is.

They, obviously, always sit together on the plane. She always gets lots of head scritchies to help her relax and fall asleep. And listen, if turbulence should hit? He’s all over it. I, low key, really love turbulence--man that shit will just rock you right to sleep. I’ve been on a few flights where I have legitimately been scared--I’ve been on flights where an engine blew out after take off and we had to emergency land, or a flight where the tail of the aircraft split clean in half about 3,000 ft above ground and we had a crash landing, I’ve been on flights where the back wheels hit the runway and then the pilot had to take off again at almost a 90 degree angle because an aircraft was too close in front of him and I’ve nearly passed out from the G force. And actually the flight to Bali from Qatar was very turbulent--but I’ve mostly been able to retain my calm. No plane in history has ever been downed by turbulence alone.

Bill knows that. He’s used to it. But tiger? Tiger has all of her claws dug into his forearm the minute the plane starts to shake even just slightly. It rouses him from a deep sleep--his goofy eye mask on and all--and he lifts it and squints at her. He’s a little grumpy, but the minute he sees the pure panic etched on her face, he morphs into caretaker mode immediately.

“It’s okay kid,” he says, “It’s just a rough patch.”

Sure enough, the seatbelt sign dings and the announcement from the captain comes on.

“Bill...” she says, and there’s a hint of a whine in her voice. He wishes he could just squeeze in close to her, just envelop her in his arms but the centre console between their seats separates them. He reaches his arm around her anyway, cranes so he can kiss her temple.

“We’re okay tiger,” he says into her ear, “Turbulence is normal. Nothing to worry about.”

She whines again, reaching a hand and she balls it into his t-shirt. He moves his hand to her hair, scritching lightly.

“Just breathe kid,” he says, “It’s okay.”

He can’t ding the flight attendant because they can’t move during turbulence anyway, so instead he reaches for his water bottle and uncaps it, offers it to her.

“Drink,” he instructs. She takes a small sip, but she tenses the minute the plane starts to rock again.

“We’re okay, I promise,” he says, “Turbulence isn’t dangerous kid. Not in the slightest.”

She looks unsure, everything about her is tense and worried.

“Hey,” he says and he taps her nose “You trust me?”

“Of course I trust you.”

“And you know how much I fly?”

“Yes.”

“It’s nothing kid,” he reassures, “Try and relax. Come here, I’ll rub your tummy.”

“I don’t need my--”

But listen, he manages to combine their blankets and creates a cocoon around the two of them. He reaches over and reclines her seat back a bit, boosts up the foot rest so she’s comfortable, and then under the blanket he lifts her shirt a little--and his warm hand just rubs back and forth, massages on her lower stomach just how she likes. He puts a pillow on the centre console, pulls the blanket up a little and pulls her over so she can lean across it--and then he rests his thumb on her lips.

“Billy--” she mumbles, but he hushes her.

“No one can see kid,” he kisses her nose softly, “I promise. Go on.”

#bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard drabble #BFF!Bill #soft bill

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yikesharringrove · 5 years ago

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A promt: Billy and Steve getting tested because of AIDS and as the results come back, both of them being clean, they finally have sex without a protection and they both can’t stop moaning because it feels so much better.

Smut

Steve was nervous.

He’s not entirely sure why. He’s always been extremely careful about condoms and such, mostly because he was fucking girls and didn’t wanna get anyone pregnant, but still.

Billy was slumped in the chair next to him.

To the untrained eye, he looked bored, leaning back in the chair, but Steve knew him, could read him like a fucking book. He could see the way he was fidgeting his hands, obviously itching for a cigarette.

Billy had more to worry about than Steve did, had been with other guys before, and even if he was safe, nobody really knew how the virus was spreading, how it was killing gay men at the rate it was.

They had driven about five hours to Chicago, to a cheap clinic that didn’t bat an eye at fake names, a fat wad of cash, and the way Steve clung to Billy’s hand.

The nurse brought Steve back first, lead him to the same room he had had his blood drawn earlier.

“Clean bill of health.” She gave him the slip of paper, letting him glance over it. “No sexually transmitted infections to speak of.”

“And what about, what about the virus?”

“Your blood came back HIV negative.” He felt like the weight of the fucking world was lifted off his shoulders. “It’s really great you and your boyfriend are doing this together. Getting tested regularly is really going to help you both stay safe.” Steve just nodded, thanking her profusely as she led him back to the waiting area.

Billy was standing close to the door, was tapping his fingers on his hips, waiting for Steve.

“I’m clean. Clean from everything.” Billy blew out a big breath, tucking Steve under his arm as he lead them both out to the car.

“Me too, Pretty Boy. Clean as a fucking whistle.” Billy put his hand on Steve’s thigh as he revved the engine, flying down the highway towards Indianapolis, towards Hawkins.

They were on each other the second Billy parked the car. Steve was crouched over the center console, the gear shift jammed into his hip.

“We better get inside, Pretty Boy. ‘Fore I jump your bones right here.” Steve pulled back, biting his lip coyly.

“Race ya.” He was out of the car in a flash, racing towards the house. Billy was stuck in his seat belt, swearing loudly as he tried to get free.

He sprinted through the open double doors, finding Steve’s clothes all over the stairs. He caught up to Steve in the landing, grabbing him around the waist and tumbling to the floor.

They wrestled for a second, Billy pinning him down with his wrists above his head.

Steve was flushed below him, in nothing but his underwear. Billy dipped down, kissing him senseless.

“Bill we gotta, the bedroom’s right there.”

“And?” Steve laughed into his mouth. Billy shifted him, getting his arms around Steve’s body, Steve’s legs wrapped around him. He hefted him up, taking him to the bedroom. He tossed him onto the bed, settling between his legs.

“Can’t wait to feel you.” Billy was muttering in his ear as he pulled off Steve’s underwear, began undressing himself as well. “So tight around me always. Gonna feel so good without a condom.”

They were both naked now, pressed together on Steve’s bed, rutting against one another.

Billy separated them for a second, getting the lube out of the bedside drawer.

He slicked up a few fingers, slowly working them into Steve.

He stretched him out, making him whine and keen.

“Don’t, don’t wanna wait anymore. Just fuck me, Bill.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, took out his fingers, and slid himself home.

“Holy fuck.” Billy was still for a moment inside of him. “You’re so, so fucking hot, so wet.” Steve could feel every fucking vein on Billy’s cock.

He pulled out, pressing back in. Steve cried out at the slick drag of the ridges of Billy’s cock, the feeling of his frenulum.

“Oh my God, Bill.” They both couldn’t stop moaning, feeling each other so close. “I want, want you to cum in me. Wanna feel you.”

Billy knew Steve was close, the way his thighs trembled around him, his chest flushed a deeper shade of red.

Billy was close as well, had been close the whole time, with how hot Steve was around him, how velvety soft.

Steve just about lost his mind as Billy came inside him, spilling off deep. It was hot, and wet, and so fucking sticky, made Steve feel dirty in the best way.

He followed close behind, painting both their stomachs.

Billy rolled off him, and his cum fucking dripped out of Steve.

Billy stared at it, running one finger through the mess, pushing it back inside.

“That’s so hot, Pretty Boy.”

“Felt so fucking good.” Steve was boneless on the bed, panting and sleepy. “Don’t think you should ever wear a condom again.”

“I’m with you there, Sweet Thing.”

#Yikes writes #i wrote this all before and then accidentally deleted it rip #steve harrington #billy hargrove #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #harringrove #harringrove fic #harringrove ficlet #harringrove drabble #lemons

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prettylittlehargrove · 5 years ago

Text

December 10th - Snowed In 🎄

Summary : Your little study session with Billy doesn’t go exactly as planned, but maybe it’s for the better...

Warning : None

Word Count : ???

Authors Notes : Sorry these have been very delayed oops, but I’m working on requests now darlings so look out for yours!! I’ve got around 5-6 to finish and upload 🥰

You threw your books onto your bed, a loud huff emitted from your lips as you lugged yourself over to your desk chair, sitting awkwardly on the suppose to be ‘soft’ seating.

To say that school was going well would be the biggest lie you’d ever imagined in your life. School was hell. From the constant testing and homework every week, to the constant rumours which spread like a virus through your classmates. All to do with you and the new hot shot at school.

Billy Hargrove was far from a good christian boys you’d been set up with before. He was a sun kissed little devil who could drop panties with just so much as a flash of his pearly whites and a cheeky wink. Your mother would’ve murdered you if she even found out that a boy like that was attending your school, let alone the fact that you were unfortunately head over heels for him.

The rumours wouldn’t even be a thing if it wasn’t for Tina’s Christmas party last night. Steve was being a bit of a drunk asshole and he mumbled some nasty shit about you under his breath, which caused you to burst into tears and landed Steve a punch square in the face from the one and only Californian god. All you could remember was how your face went as red as Billy’s shirt at the fact that not only had he of all people stuck up for you, but he’d punched Steve Harrington. Hawkins resident asshole. You knew all about how he’d smashed Jon’s camera last week.

Well as the week went on, Billy only became more protective of you, and followed you around like a little lost puppy.

And now, here you are inspecting the calander on your desk. The snowy December weather sending a shiver down your spine, causing you to force yourself out of your chair and go to close your window. A camaro seemed to be parked right outside your house...

‘Is that Billy’s car?’ You thought, a glance at the calander again made you notice the red marker which mentioned how you had a tutor session with the little devil.

“Crap” you whispered. Shoving yourself into a more presentable outfit, way better than your usual school look and untying your hair.

A shrill cry of your doorbell caused your body to bolt down the stairs. Meeting face to face with his ocean eyes as you opened the door.

“Heya Princess, nice place” he smirked, leaning against the doorframe, dark smirk playing his features.

“Umm, thank you... uhh, come in” you cursed yourself for completely losing ever ounce of confidence you’d built up between open ring the door and meeting his dreamy eyes.

He looked around the place, looking around at the dull decor your mother had become so in love with.

“You want something to drink or eat? You didn’t eat lunch again... I Uhh noticed...” this was true, Billy never ate lunch unless he was sharing half a sandwich with you or Tommy. In fact you never really saw him eat at school.

“If you don’t mind doll” his words were like fucking silk, it made your knees weak with nerves. He follows you into the kitchen and leaned against the island. You set up a cup of cocoa and reached into the cookie jar to grab him some gingerbread. “How was basketball practice? Steve didn’t give you any trouble again?” You mumbled, setting the cup down with the plate of sweet treats in front of him.

“It was good, Harrington’s backed down since last week, but I mean he got what he deserved, shouldn’t say shit like that to my princess” he dipped his cookie into the cocoa and lifted it to his lips, taking a large bite and sighing with happiness. “Such a good cook angel”

Your mind raced at the words ‘my princess’ you definitely weren’t dating. Billy was was out of your league... he was the bad boy who hung out with the bad kids and smoked cigarettes whilst he was supposed to the be in maths, which he was failing, majorly. “There was no need for violence, but I think... I- Uhh I think it was sweet, so umm thank you... it had good intentions” you took a sip from your own cup of cocoa and giggled a little as billy gobbled down the cookies.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Ok?...”

“Why’re you always so nervous around me?” His eyebrow was raised, fingers tapping against the wooden surface of the island counter.

“I’m - im... umm- I don’t know... I think it’s just... oh look! Crap, that snow looks heavy...” your eyes had darted across the room to the window which showed the blizzard that had erupted outside. The phone interrupted your thought process and caused you to excuse yourself.

“Hello?”

“We aren’t going to make it back home tonight, theres been a snowstorm and we’ve been snowed in for the night, are you ok?”

“Yeah... Umm- it’s looking really bad outside, is it not ok to drive at all?”

“No, walking is even dangerous to be honest, sorry darling, I’ve phoned the neighbours and they’re around if you need them but from the sounds of it you’ve got a friend over hmm?”

“Yes... yes, ok I’ll just have to get some extra blankets and pillows etc... love you” you muttered, watching Billy snoop around your kitchen.

“Love you too, and no funny business-“ you quickly hung up, not prepared for an hour long lecture about being safe when home alone.

“I can walk home and pick the car up tomorrow?” Billy piped up, having sort of eavesdropped on bits of your conversation.

“No, it’s ok, you’ll catch your death in that weather, I’ll get some blankets and we can sleep in my room, the heating doesn’t work downstairs during winter” your hands searched the cabinet for a few extra throws and blankets, piling them onto Billy’s arms, whilst grabbing some pillow and candles.

You both trudged up the stairs, Billy smirked as he entered the room. The cute wallpaper and fluffy white carpet made the place look cute and comfy.

“We can set up some sort of blanket defence system against the cold air, but in the mean time, did you bring your revision stuff?” Billy opened his mouth to speak, but his eyes immediately darted across the room.

“Uhh, yeah I kinda forgot this was a study session” he chuckled awkwardly, a light pink tint warming his cheeks.

“Oh... that’s fine, we don’t have to study, I guess we might as well just hang out... yeah...” he nodded, grabbing a blanket and placing it against the bottom of your door to stop cold air from enetering the room.

An awkward silence fell upon you both as you made the room cosy.

He shifted himself closer to you. “Ya know you didn’t finish off your answer to my question?” He whispered, hand dangerously close to your leg.

“I guess - maybe I kinda think that... Umm” your face was bright red, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“Don’t worry angel, I think your cute too” he chuckled lowly, hand resting on your thigh.

“You do-“ every word you said was shaky. Billy tilted his head, a smile on his face before he nodded.

“I think that you’re adorable and I was kinda hoping that this wasn’t gonna be just some study session” you shivered, the cool breeze getting past the blankets and sending shivers down your spine.

Billy didn’t even think twice before he grabbed a quilt and wrapped you up in it. Your faces were so close, his eyes locked onto yours.

“C-can I kiss you” you stuttered. He nodded and lifted his hand up to your cheek, pulling you into him. The kiss was magical and passionate. Billy had never kissed someone and felt butterflies in his stomach before. For once he was nervous and he felt goosebumps.

Slowly you both pulled away. “Was that ok angel?” A small nod and a smile told him everything. He pulled you onto his lap, cuddling your shivering body close.

“When we get out of this snowstorm I’ll take you on a real nice date” he mumbled, stroking your hair as the snow fell outside your window.

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winchesterbrotherstan · 5 years ago

Text

SPN- Croatoan (2.09)

🥺🥺🥺

Pairing: Olive Winchester (sister OC)

Summary: After Sam sees something in a vision, the siblings set out. The case tests their bond, and Dean reveals a startling secret

(tbh i think you can tell how much tv i watch based off how i write descriptions LMAO)

Warnings: cursing, blood, uhh it’s a virus so maybe don’t read if current events are freaking you out, death, some shooting, guns, uhh, so much blood, olive growls a lot i felt like a furry writing this, uhh, idk, the usual

Word Count: 6719

I snorted at Dean’s joke as I pushed the motel door open, tossing the keys onto the table by the window. Dean shut it behind me, and Jinx came running, howling and whining. I looked up to see that the room was empty.

“Sam?”

He popped up between the beds, panting. I shoved the bag of beef jerky into Dean’s hands and ran to Sam, kneeling beside him.

“Sammy?”

“Sam?” Dean joined me, eyebrows creased in concern.

“No…”

***

“Continue on OR 224 West.”

“There are only two towns in the US named Rivergrove.”

“How come you’re so sure it’s the one in Oregon?” I asked, running my hand through Sam’s hair.

He sighed and squeezed his eyes shut. “Uh, there was a picture. Crater Lake.”

“Alright, what else?” I coaxed.

“I saw a dark room, some people. A guy tied to a chair.”

“And I ventilated him?” Dean asked, glancing over and then back at the road.

“Yeah.” Sam nodded. “You thought there was something inside of him.”

“What, a demon? Was he possessed?”

“I don’t know.” Sam whispered.

“It’s okay.” I cooed, hand still in his hair.

My arm was hooked around the back of the bench and I was propped up on my own feet, but playing with each other’s hair was something the three of us always did to calm each other. Jinx was standing on her hind legs and pawing at my hands.

“Well,” Dean sighed. “Your weird-ass visions are always tied to Yellow-Eyes somehow… was there any black smoke? Did we try to exorcise it?”

“No.” Sam shook his head. “Nothing, you just plugged him. That’s it.”

“Well, I’m sure there was a logical explanation.” I shot Dean an anxious look.

“I sure hope so.” Sam mumbled.

“What does that mean?”

Sam said nothing, and I looked at Dean again, chewing at my bottom lip.

“I mean, I’m not gonna waste an innocent man.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up, and I glared at him.

“I wouldn’t!” Dean protested.

“I never said you would!” Sam hissed.

“Fine!”

“Boys!” I took my hand away from Sam’s hair and sat back down with an angry huff.

Jinx let out a loud whine, curling up in the backseat.

I sighed. “Cut it out. Look, we don’t know what it is. But whatever it is, that guy in the chair is a part of it. So let’s find him, and let’s see what’s what.”

“Fine.” Dean frowned.

Sam scowled. “Fine.”

***

I shivered as we walked across the patchy lawn, toward an older man, who was cleaning his rifle. Jinx pulled on the leash, and Sam cleared his throat as he pulled back. I could barely manage her at this point.

“Morning.” Dean greeted.

“Good morning.” The man set the rifle down. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah.” Dean flashed his badge. “Uh, Billy Gibbons, Frank Beard, Dani Mitchell. U.S. Marshals.”

The man eyed me and then Jinx, and Sam cleared his throat. “She’s a trainee, she’s at the top of her class. This is Jinx.” He motioned to the dog. “She’s also in training.”

“What’s this about?”

“We’re looking for someone.” I spoke, looking up at Sam.

“A young man, early twenties.” He blinked, hard. “Uh, he’d have a, uh, a thin scar right below his hairline.”

“What’d he do?”

“Well, nothing. We’re actually looking for someone else, but we think this young man could help us.”

“He’s not in any sort of trouble or anything.” I eyed the man. “At least not yet.”

Dean’s head tilted ever so slightly, and a small grin flashed over his face. My own lips twitched into a smirk. He had just found us a way in.

“I think maybe you know who he is… Master Sergeant.” He smiled. “My dad was in the Corps. He was a Corporal.”

The man’s face softened. “What company?”

“Echo-2-1.”

Sam and I looked at each other, then back to the man. “So can you help us?”

He hesitated, then sighed. “Duane Tanner’s got a scar like that. But I know him. Good kid, keeps his nose clean.”

“Oh, I’m sure he does.” Dean smiled. “You know where he lives?”

“With his family. Up Aspen Way.” The man pointed.

“Thank you.” Dean nodded his head.

We turned on our heels and started back toward the car. I couldn’t shake the bad feeling in my stomach. I looked over my shoulder, only to see the man staring at us with a nasty glare. I stumbled over a crack in the road, and Dean snatched me back onto my feet.

“You okay, Ol?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Just got a bad feeling.”

Sam was already across the street, staring at something on a telephone pole.

“Sams?”

He waved us over and pointed.

CROATOAN

“What’s that?” Dean frowned.

I huffed. “Roanoke.”

Dean stared blankly.

“Dude. Lost colony? Ring a bell?”

Dean shook his head, and Sam rolled his eyes.

“Did you even pay attention in history class?” I squinted.

“Yeah!” Dean scoffed defensively. “Shots heard round the world, how bills become laws…”

I giggled. “That’s not school, De.”

“That’s Schoolhouse Rock.” Sam scoffed.

Dean rolled his eyes.

“Roanoke was one of the first English colonies in America. What was it, late 1500s?” I looked up at Sam.

“Oh, yeah.” Dean frowned. “Yeah, I do remember that. The only thing they left behind was a single word carved in a tree.”

“Croatoan.”

“Yeah. And I mean, there were all these theories. Indian raid, disease.”

“Nobody knows what happened. They were just gone. Wiped out, overnight.”

“You guys don’t really think that’s what’s going on here… do you?”

I sighed and looked up at the boys. “Sams? What do you think?”

“Whatever I saw, it wasn’t good. But what do you think could do that?”

“I mean, like Dean said, all of your weird-ass visions always have something to do with Yellow Eyes.”

“We should get help.”

“Bobby? Ellen, maybe?”

I shrugged. “I can call Ellen, you call Bobby.”

Dean nodded, fishing his phone out. I dialed Ellen’s number, but the call wouldn’t go through.

I frowned and showed it to the boys. “No signal.”

Sam and Dean shook their heads. They didn’t have any either.

Dean looked around and whacked us each on the arms. “Payphone.”

Dean picked it up and held it out. I stood on my toes to hear. It beeped, the usual out of service beep that came with old phones. The boys looked at each other, and Dean clicked the receiver multiple times.

“Line’s dead.” I sighed.

Dean hung up the phone. “I’ll say one thing, if I were gonna massacre a town, that would be my first step.”

***

I shuffled into step behind Sam and Dean as we made our way toward the cabin. I looked around as Dean huffed. We had left Jinx in the car. This looked like the place to get murdered, and we didn’t want her there if that happened.

“I’ve got a bad feeling.” I mumbled.

Sam sighed and knocked on the door. We stared at the tacky sign that read born to fish, forced to work, hung by the door.

“Yeah?” A boy my age opened the door, staring with dead eyes.

I shifted closer to Dean, feeling like I was about to be sick.

Dean flashed his badge. “We’re looking for Duane Tanner. He lives here, right?”

“Yeah, he’s my brother.”

The boys and I shared a look before we turned back to the boy.

“Can we talk to him?”

“Oh, he’s not here right now.”

Dean sighed. “Do you know where he is?”

“Yeah, he went on a fishing trip up by Roslyn Lake.”

“Are your parents home?” Sam squinted.

“Yeah, they’re inside.”

“Jake? Who is it?” Mr. Tanner shuffled out into the doorway, standing by his son.

“Hi, U.S. Marshals, sir. We’re looking for our son, Duane.”

“Wh-why?” Mr. Tanner’s eyes got wide, but he too, looked like there was nothing inside.

I cleared my throat and inched further away, bumping into Dean’s side. His hand landed on my shoulder as Mr. Tanner spoke again.

“He’s not in trouble, is he?”

“No, no, no.” Dean shook his head. “We just need to ask him a couple of routine questions, that’s all.”

“When’s he due back from his trip?” Sam forced a polite smile.

“I’m not sure.”

“Well, maybe your wife knows?” I piped up.

“No, I don’t know.” Mr. Tanner began to stumble over his words. “She’s not here right now.”

“Your son said she was.” My eyes narrowed.

“Did I?”

I couldn’t stop the confused scowl that danced over my face as I looked back at Jake.

“She’s getting groceries. So, when Duane gets back, there’s a number where he can get a hold of you?”

“Oh, no.” Dean shook his head and grabbed my shoulder, pulling me back. “We’ll just check in with you later.”

We turned and walked down the steps. The door slammed shut before we made it back onto the dirt path. Dean turned with a furled lip, and Sam looked uneasy.

“That was creepy.”

“Yeah. A little too Stepford?” Dean offered.

“Big time.” Sam agreed.

We looked around, noticing that these people had no neighbors within at least a mile. Dean and Sam shared a look, and I caught Dean’s eye, nodding.

“Stay behind me.” He ordered as he pulled his gun out.

Sam and I followed suit, leaving me, as usual, sandwiched between the two. Dean led the way, sneaking around to the back of the house. Dean cleared his throat before setting himself up. I flinched as he kicked the back door down. We rushed in, guns raised.

Tanner came at us with a knife, but Dean reacted faster, shooting him at least three times, shredding his chest to pieces. The boy jumped through the window, leaving glass shards as he darted off into the woods. I lined up my shot, but before I could pull the trigger, Sam knocked my gun from my hands. I jumped with a squeak, and Dean was immediately at our sides. He pulled me into his chest and stared at Sam, panting.

***

Sam helped Beverly out of the backseat as Dean and I popped the trunk, eyes darting around every few seconds. The wind howled, and I jumped, growling back. Jinx was standing by my side, a similar growl leaving her mouth.

Dean sighed as he grabbed my arm. “You’re okay. Come on.”

I slammed the trunk shut as Dean grunted, shuffling under the weight of Tanner’s dead body. I walked two steps ahead of him, pushing the door of the clinic open and holding it for him. We walked down the hall, apprehensive as we turned the corner and rounded into a room. Jinx ran straight into Sam, who squatted and patted her head.

“Is that…”

“Mr. Tanner.” Dean cut the woman in the white coat off.

“Was he attacked too?”

“Uh… no, actually.” I sighed. “He did the attacking and got himself shot.”

“Shot?” She repeated.

“Yeah.”

“Who are you?”

“U.S. Marshals.” I flashed my badge.

“Oh. Bring him back here.” The doctor beckoned for us to follow.

***

I watched, leg bouncing up and down as Dr. Lee helped Beverly with her wound.

“Wait, you said Jake helped him? Your son Jake?”

Beverly nodded. “They beat me. Tied me up.”

“I…” The secretary, Pam, sighed. “I don’t believe it.”

“Pam.” Dr. Lee warned. “Beverly… do you have any idea why they would act this way? Any history of chemical dependency?”

“No, of course not!” Beverly shook her head. “I don’t know why! One minute they were my husband and son.” She sniffled. “And the next, they had the devil in them.”

My eyes widened and I looked up at Dean. He shot the same look back before nodding at Sam, then jerking his head to the side over his shoulder.

“Those guys were absolutely fucked.” Dean whispered.

“What do you think? Multiple demons? Mass possession?”

“If it is a possession, there could be more. I mean, fuck knows how many. Could be like a fucking Shriner convention.”

“Great.” I sighed.

“Of course, that’s one way to wipe out a town. Take it from the inside.”

“I don’t know, man. We didn’t see any demon smoke, or any of our other usual cues.”

“Well, whatever.” Dean scowled.

“Something turned him into a monster, Sams.”

“And you know, if you would’ve let Olive take care of the other one, there’d be one less to worry about.”

“I’m sorry, alright! Dean, it was a kid!”

“No, it was an it. Not the best time for a bleeding heart, Sammy.” Dean scoffed.

Dr. Lee came out of the room, heels clicking loudly. The three of us whipped around, clearing out throats.

“How’s the patient?”

“Terrible!” Dr. Lee sighed. “What the hell happened out there?”

“We don’t know.” Dean told the truth.

“Yeah? Well, you just killed my next door neighbor.”

“We didn’t have a choice.”

“Maybe so… but we need the county Sheriff. I need the coroner.”

“Phones are down.” I shook my head.

“I know, I tried. Tell me you have a police radio in the car?”

“We do. But it’s fried, just like everything else.”

Dr. Lee sighed. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”

“How far is it the next town?” Dean looked up, thinking.

“It’s about forty miles down to Sidewinder.”

Dean nodded. “Alright. We’ll go down there, see if we can find some help.” He looked down at me, then clapped Sam’s shoulder. “Sam here’ll stick around, keep you guys safe.”

“Safe from what?” Dr. Lee squinted.

“We’ll get back to you on that.��

***

“What the fuck?” I mumbled as Dean stopped the car.

The Oregon plates on the totalled car read WTF 4C7. We shared a look, and I huffed. He tucked his gun into his waistband, and I did the same. We got out of the car and gave each other another look.

Watch each other’s backs.

He took the lead as we stalked toward the SUV. The windows were smashed. I flinched as we circled the car. The seats were covered in blood, and the baby seat in the back was drenched. I shuddered and looked over to the other side of the car. Dean was nowhere to be seen.

My gun immediately went back up and I bared my fangs, letting the stream of blood fall down my chin. I slowly made my way around the front of the car, hands shaking.

“Shit.”

I huffed as I recognized Dean’s voice. I swung around to face the driver’s door. Dean eyed me from his spot on the ground, a bloody bowie knife in his hand. I let my gun go slack as I sighed, and he stood, dropping the gun.

“Did you see all that blood?” I asked, shivering.

“Yeah. Something’s wrong. Let’s go.”

***

“Oh, son of a bitch.” Dean groaned as he pumped the brakes.

I sighed as he stopped the car. The bridge out of town was blocked by trucks and SUVs, and there were six or seven guys with rifles circling around. Dean looked over at me, and there was a thump on the roof of the car. Dean jumped, and I snarled. Dean’s hand slapped over my mouth as a man leaned in through Dean’s window.

“Oh, hey, hi.” Dean stuttered.

“Sorry. Road’s closed.”

“Yeah, we can see that.” I spat, shoving Dean’s hand away.

He shot me a glare and turned back with a smile. “What’s up?”

“Quarantine.” The man eyed me.

“Quarantine? What is it?”

“Don’t know. Something’s going around out there.” The man kept his eyes on me.

“Uh huh.” Dean shifted, blocking me from his view. “Who told you that?”

“County Sheriff.”

“Is he here?” Dean asked.

“No. He called.” The man looked around Dean, eyes locking back on me.

I grabbed a fistful of Dean’s jacket. The sheriff couldn’t have called. The phones were still down.

“Say, why don’t you get out of the car and we’ll talk a little?”

Dean chuckled, nervous. “Well, you are a handsome devil, but I’m on the clock here.”

“I’d sure appreciate it if you got out of the car. Just for a quick minute.”

“Yeah.” Dean’s arms tightened on the wheel, and I reached for the gear knob. “I’ll bet you would.”

I pulled it into reverse and Dean swung the car around. The man reached in and grabbed Dean by the collar before we could take off. The men at the roadblock began to shoot, and Dean gunned it, swerving the car and shaking the man off. I panted as we drove off.

***

“What the fuck is going on?” I hissed.

“I don’t know, pumpkin.” Dean sighed. “Can you control yourself right now?”

I sighed. “Barely. If I get spooked one more time I might snap.”

“I’m right here. Okay?”

I nodded as he gave me a soft smile. I glanced back at the road and yelped.

“Dean, stop!”

Dean slammed the brakes as Mark stepped into the middle of the road, rifle aimed at us.

“Hands where I can see them!”

“Son of a-”

“Get out of the car!” Mark screamed. “Out!”

I kept my mouth shut, but I couldn’t help the low growl that was beginning to rumble in my throat. Dean eyed me as he pushed his door open.

“Okay. It’s okay. We’re okay. Easy there, big guy.”

Mark’s eyes flickered to me, and that was all Dean needed to whip out his gun. “Alright, put it down!”

“Lower it now!” Mark shouted back.

“Put it down!”

“Are you one of them?” Mark stalked closer.

“No! Are you?” Dean inched closer to me.

“No!”

“He could be lying, Dean.”

“So could you!”

“Alright!” Dean huffed. “Alright. We could do this all day, alright? Let’s just… let’s take it easy before we try to kill each other.”

Mark sighed and lowered his gun. Dean did the same, and I shuffled into his side, swallowing the blood in my mouth.

“What’s going on with everybody?”

Dean shook his head. “We don’t know.”

“My neighbor… Mr. Rogers, he-”

I snorted, and Dean blinked. “You’ve got a neighbor named Mr. Rogers?”

“Not anymore.”

Dean and I shared a look, and I held back a laugh.

“He came at me with a hatchet. I put him down. He’s not the only one. It’s happening to everyone.”

Dean nodded. “Look, we’re heading out to the doc’s place. There’s still some people left.”

“No. No way. I’m getting the hell out.”

“There’s no way out.” I snorted. “They’ve got the bridge covered.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Dean shrugged. “Fine. Stay here. Be our guest.”

Mark eyed us and sighed. He put his rifle down and pulled a handgun out, warily pointing it at Dean. I took Dean’s from his hand and pointed it at Mark as we shuffled toward the car.

“Get in the back.” I motioned with the gun.

He slid into the back, the gun still pointed at Dean. I sat sideways in the passenger seat and kept Dean’s gun trained on his head.

“Well…” Dean huffed as he shut the door and started the car. This oughta be a relaxing drive.”

***

I was stuck to Dean’s side, gun still on Mark. He kept his on Dean, and I was growing increasingly angrier.

“Sammy!” Dean pounded on the door. “Open up!”

The door swung open, and I heard Sam stumble for words. “Did you guys, uh… get to a phone?”

“Road’s blocked.” I didn’t turn to him.

“We’re gonna have a word. Doc’s inside.” Dean spoke to Mark, pulling me along with him as we shuffled into the building.

Mark put his gun down and continued down the hall, and the boys and I stayed by the door. Dean tugged his gun from my grip, and Sam nudged me.

“What’s going on out there?”

“We don’t know. I mean, I feel like Chuck Heston in the Omega Man. Sarge is the only sane person we could find, and Olive keeps bugging out.”

“I can’t stop it. Something’s putting me on edge and I can’t control it.”

“Sammy, what are we even dealing with?” I wrapped my arms around myself.

“Doc thinks it’s a virus.” Sam tugged his jacket off and draped it over my shoulders.

“Okay, great. What do you think?”

“I think she’s right.” Sam sighed.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Sam nodded. “And I think the people infected are trying to infect others.”

“How?”

“Blood-to-blood contact. And get this. The virus? It leaves traces of sulfur in the blood.”

“A fucking demonic virus?”

“Yep. It’s like demonic germ warfare. At least it explains why I’ve been having visions. Probably why Ollie’s on edge, too.”

“It’s like a Biblical fucking plague.” Dean grumbled.

“You have no clue how right you are. I’ve been poring through Dad’s journal, found something about the Roanoke colony.”

“What?” I looked up.

“Dad thought Croatoan was a demon’s name. Sometimes known as Deva or Resheph.”

I sighed. “Resheph was the Egyptian personification of the fucking plague.”

“Well, that’s fucking terrific.” Dean grumbled again. “Why here? Why now?”

“I have no idea. But guys, who knows how far this thing can spread? We’ve gotta get the hell out of here. We’ve gotta warn people.”

Dean sighed, a weary look on his face. I huffed.

“He’s right, Dean. We have to let Bobby know. E-Ellen, Jo. Any other hunter. This is big. We can’t stop it alone.”

“They’ve got one! In here!”

The three of us jumped before scrambling into the next room. Mark was pointing at Beverly through the window. Dean squinted.

“What are you talking about?”

“The wife. She’s infected.”

“We’ve gotta take care of this.” Mark sighed. “We can’t just leave her in there. My neighbors, they were strong. The longer we wait, the stronger she’ll get.”

Dean only paused for a second before pulling his gun and stalking into the lab. Sam and I scrambled to follow with eyes bulging out of our heads.

“What do you mean you’re gonna kill Beverly Tanner?”

“Wait, hold on.” I blurted as we walked in. “Could there be any kind of treatment, Doc? Maybe some kind of cure for this?”

“Can you cure it?” Dean repeated.

“I don’t even know what it is.”

“I told you, it’s just a matter of time before she breaks through.”

“Just leave her in there. You can’t shoot her like an animal!” Pam cried.

“Sam. Olive.” Dean called for us as we walked over to the door of the utility room.

Dean and I pulled our guns out, and Mark shakily did the same. Sam carefully opened the door, only to reveal Beverly on the floor, knees drawn to her chest. She jumped at the sight of us and began to sob.

“Mark, what are you doing? Mark, it-it’s them! They locked me in here! They tried to kill me! They’re infected, not me! Please, Mark! You’ve known me all your life! Please!”

“Are you sure she’s one of them?” I whispered.

Sam nodded, baby face twisted in pure distress. Mark let his arm go slack as he took a step back. Dean sighed, and I shook my head. I clenched my jaw and fired twice.

***

Mark peered through the shades. I finished sharpening Sam’s knife before handing it back to him. Dean was loading his gun. Jinx was curled at our feet, whining. A vial shattered, and there was a scream.

“Oh god! Is there any on me? Am I okay?”

“You’re clean, you’re okay.” Dr. Lee reassured her.

“Why are we staying here?” Pam squealed. “Please, let’s just go!”

“We can’t, because those things are everywhere.”

Pam slumped down to the floor with a whine, and Dr. Lee knelt beside her.

“She’s right about one thing.” Sam whispered. “We can’t stay here. We’ve gotta get out of here. Roadhouse, maybe?” He shook his head. “Somewhere. We have to let people know what’s coming.”

“Yeah, good point.” Dean sighed. “Night of the Living Dead didn’t exactly end pretty.”

“Well, I’m not sure we’ve got a choice.” Mark huffed. “Lots of folks up here are good with rifles. Even with all your hardware, we’re easy targets. So unless you’ve got some explosives…”

Sam sighed, and his eyes widened as he realized something. I looked up at him and followed his line of sight. Dean looked at us, confused.

“We could make some.”

“Yeah.” Sam started for the high shelf and went for the bottles of Potassium Chloride.

Someone started to pound on the door, and the three of us scrambled back just as Mark swung the door open.

“It’s Duane Tanner!”

Duane limped in, backpack swung over his shoulder. “Thank God.”

“Duane, are you okay?”

Dean and I turned to Sam.

“Is that… the guy that… Dean…” I slowly slashed a hand across my throat as Dean let out a whistle.

“Yeah.”

“Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy, there, chief.” Dean grabbed Duane’s arm. “Hey, Doc! Come give Duane a good once-over, would you?”

“Pam?” Dr. Lee called as she led us into the examination room.

“Who are you?” Duane fussed against Dean’s arm.

“Never mind who I am.” He shoved him into the room. “Doc?”

“Yeah, okay.” She eased.

“Duane. Where’ve you been?” Mark questioned.

“I was on a fishing trip up by Roslyn. I came back this afternoon. I… I saw Roger McGill being dragged out of his house. By people we know! They started cutting him with knives! I ran! I’ve been hiding in the woods ever since… has anybody seen my mom or dad?”

Dean swallowed and turned to us. “Awkward…”

Duane sat on a stool, and Dr. Lee groaned.

“You’re bleeding.”

Dean took a step forward. “Where’d you get that?”

“I was running, I must’ve tripped.”

Dean didn’t miss a beat. “Tie him up, there’s rope in there.”

“Wait!” Duane got to his feet.

Dean, without hesitation, pulled his gun. “Sit down!”

“I’m sorry, Duane.” Mark untangled the ropes. “He’s right. We’ve gotta be careful.”

“Careful? About what?”

“Did they bleed on you?” I squinted, feeling uneasy.

“No! What the hell? No!”

“Doc, is there any way to know for sure? Any test?”

Dr. Lee sighed. “I’ve studied Beverly’s blood-work backwards and forwards.”

“My mom!” Duane sat up.

“It took three hours for the virus to incubate. The sulfur didn’t appear in the blood until then, so… no. No, there’d be no way of knowing. Not until after Duane turns.”

“Guys, I’ve gotta talk to you. Now.” Sam pulled on our sleeves.

Dean and Mark shared a look before Sam dragged us out.

“What’s going on, Sams?”

“This is my vision. It’s happening.”

“Yeah.” Dean huffed. “I figured.”

“Okay, well, what do we do so that it doesn’t turn out the way it did?”

“We can’t kill him. We don’t know if he’s infected or not.”

“Well, I think we’re pretty damn sure, Sam. Guy shows up out of nowhere, he’s got a cut on his leg, his whole family’s infected?”

Sam sighed. “Alright, then we should keep him tied up, we should wait and see.”

“For what? For him to Hulk out and infect somebody else? No thanks, can't take that chance.” Dean started to push past Sam, but Sam slammed a hand onto his chest and stopped him.

“Hey, look, man. I’m not happy about this, okay? But it’s a tough job and you know that.”

“It’s supposed to be tough, Dean. we’re supposed to struggle with this. That’s the whole point.”

“And what does that buy us, Sam?”

“A clear conscience, for one!”

“Well, it’s too late for that.”

Sam and I shared a look, both sighing. Sam stopped Dean again. “What the hell happened to you?”

“What?” Dean spat back.

“You might kill an innocent man, and you don't even care! You don't act like yourself anymore, Dean. Hell, you know what? You're acting like one of those things out there.”

“Dean, I thought we were past this.” I whispered.

Dean only nodded. He moved again, and Sam reached out to stop him a third time. Dean pushed him into the wall, hard. I snarled and ran after Dean, but he shoved me back into the room and locked the door.

“Dean!”

“Hey!” Sam was now at my side, pushing at the door. “Open the door, Dean! Don’t do it! Dean!”

“Dean, don’t!”

There was a long silence, and Sam and I stared at each other, horrified. Dean wasn’t himself. He seemed more like Dad every day, and the influence of Gordon was still lingering.

The door unlocked, and Sam and I both jumped to push it open. We stumbled out into the hallway. Dean caught me as I tripped. I looked up to see his face clean of blood.

“Did you-”

“No.”

***

Jinx yawned, and I did the same. Sam shoved another rag into a bottle, and Dean handed me the one he had just finished. I tucked it aside with the others and sighed. The door opened, and Dr. Lee strode in, hands in her pockets.

“It’s been over four hours. Duane’s blood is still clean. I don’t think he’s infected. I’d like to untie him, if that’s alright.”

Dean glanced up at us, then looked back down, lowering his head. Sam and I sighed, and Sam nodded.

“Sure.”

She nodded and shut the door behind her. Sam shifted in his seat, looking over at Dean.

“You know I’m gonna ask you why.”

“Yeah. I know.” Dean huffed.

“So why? Why didn’t you do it?”

There was a long beat, and Dean tossed a rag aside. “We need more alcohol.”

Sam huffed and got up, leaving. Jinx whined, but she stayed in her spot. I yawned again, and Dean crossed his arms over his chest. I sat in Sam’s empty seat and leaned forward.

“Why didn’t you do it?”

Dean looked away.

“De.”

“I don’t wanna be Dad.”

A wave of relief washed over me and I sighed. There was a crash from the next room over. Dean and I both shot up, sharing a look.

“Sam.”

We each pulled out our guns and ran to the door, met by Mark, who also had a gun in his hand. I tried the handle, but it was locked. I nodded at Dean, who reared back before kicking it open. Pam was straddling Sam, hand to his chest. Dean fired three times, and Pam fell to the floor, dead.

“Sams, oh my god.” I tucked my gun into my waistband.

“No!” Mark grabbed me by the upper arm and yanked me back.

A snarl ripped past my lips and I bared my fangs at him. Mark jumped away, and I knelt next to Sam, reaching for his hand.

“She bled on him. He’s got the virus.”

Sam pulled his hand away from me, eyes wide. My eyes began to fill with tears as I looked down at his bloodied chest. I looked over my shoulder at Dean.

“What do we do?”

***

Sam was sitting on the exam table, a bandage taped to his chest. His head was down, and he was near tears. The others were crowded in the room, and Dean was pacing. I sniffled, arms crossed over my chest.

“Doc, check his wound again, would you?”

There was a long pause, and Dean’s head snapped up, fire in his eyes.

“Doctor!”

Mark scowled. “What’s she need to examine him for? You saw what happened.”

Dr. Lee sighed. “Did her blood actually enter your wound?”

“Come on, of course it did!” Mark spat.

“We don’t know that for sure.” Dean tried to reason.

“We can’t take a chance.”

“Doc, just… check again. Please.” I begged.

“You know what we have to do.” Mark crossed his arms over his chest.

“Nobody is shooting our brother.” Dean snarled.

“He isn’t gonna be your brother much longer. You said it yourself.” Duane snapped.

“Nobody is shooting anyone!”

“You were gonna shoot me!”

“You don’t shut your damn mouth, I might!” I snarled.

“Guys…” Sam spoke up. “They’re right. I’m infected… just give me the gun and I’ll do it myself.”

“Forget it.” Dean scoffed.

“Dean, I’m not gonna become one of those things.”

“Sams, we still have time.” I whined.

“Time for what? Look, I understand he’s your brother, and I’m sorry, I am. But we gotta take care of this.” Mark pulled out his handgun.

I bared my fangs, growling. Mark stuck his gun against my forehead.

“What the hell are you?”

“Something that can kill you, no doubt.” I hissed.

Dean eased a hand onto my shoulder and tugged me away. Mark’s gun went down, and Dean got in his face.

“I’m gonna say this one time.” Dean spoke slowly. “You make a move on either of them, you’ll be dead before you hit the ground.”

Mark said nothing.

“You understand me?”

Still, nothing.

“Do I make myself clear!”

“Then what are we supposed to do?”

There was a long pause, and Dean and I shared a look. I nodded, and Dean fished his keys from his pocket. He tossed them to Mark.

“Get the hell out of here, that’s what. Take my car. You’ve got the explosives. There’s an arsenal in the back. You’ve got enough firepower to handle anything now.” Dean eyed me. “Take the rest of them.

“What?” I gasped as Dean pushed me toward Mark.

“Well, what about you?” Mark eyed Dean.

There was a beat, and Sam shook his head. “Dean, no. No! Go with them. This is your only chance!”

Dean shook his head right back. “You’re not gonna get rid of me that easy.”

“No, he’s right.” Mark tried to reason with Dean. “Come with us.”

Dean shook his head. Mark held a hand out for me, and I flinched. I looked at the boys, who both nodded at me. I handed Mark Jinx’s leash with tears in my eyes.

“Take her. Please.”

Mark squinted, and the boys began to protest.

“Go.” I pointed at the door.

Mark shrugged. “Fine. Your funeral.” He led Duane and Dr. Lee toward the door.

“I’m sorry.” Dr. Lee whispered. “Thanks for everything, Marshals.”

Dean snorted. “Oh, uh… actually, we’re not… really Marshals.”

“Oh…” She hesitated before leaving with Mark and Duane.

I hoisted myself onto the exam table as Dean shut the door. Sam began to cry, looking from me to Dean. I leaned my head against his arm, grabbing his hand in mine.

Dean smiled softly. “Wish we had a deck of cards. Or a foosball table or something.”

“Guys.” Sam whimpered. “Don’t do this. Just get the hell out of here.”

Dean shook his head. “No way.”

“Give me my gun, and leave.”

“For the last time, Sams, no.” I hissed.

Sam shrugged me off and stood up, slamming his hands on the table. I jumped, and Dean’s face hardened. Sam sighed, realizing that he scared us both.

“This is the dumbest thing you two have ever done.”

Dean shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know about that. Remember that waitress in Tampa?” He shuddered.

“Ew.” My nose scrunched up.

Sam sighed. “Dean… Olive… I’m sick. It’s over for me. It doesn’t have to be for you.”

“No?”

“No. You guys can keep going. You have before.”

“I don’t want to.” Dean whispered.

I shook my head. “Not without you, bubs.”

“What?”

Dean pulled his gun from his waistband and settled onto the file cabinet, across the room from us. Sam sat back down on the exam table.

“I’m tired, Sam. I’m tired of this job, this life… this… this weight on my shoulders, man. I’m tired of it.”

“So what? You’re just gonna give up? You two? Just lay down and die? Look guys, I know this stuff with Dad has-”

“You’re wrong.” Dean cut him off. “It’s not about Dad. I mean… part of it is, sure. But…”

“Then what is it about?” Sam whispered.

There was a bustle outside the door, and the boys and I looked up. I bared my fangs with a low growl. Dean and I both held our guns up, and Dean quickly opened the door.

“You’d better come see this.” Dr. Lee stood in the hall.

***

I huddled into Dean’s side, a low feeling in the pit of my stomach as we looked around. There was nothing. Nobody, no noise.

“They’ve all just… vanished.”

***

Sam shifted on the exam table.

Dr. Lee looked up from the microscope. “Well, it’s been five hours and your blood’s still clean.”

Dean and I sighed in relief.

“I don’t understand it, but I think you dodged a bullet.”

“But I was exposed. How could I not be infected?”

“I don’t know.” Dr. Lee shook her head. “But you’re just not.”

I ran at Sam, pulling him into a hug. He wrapped his arms around me with a sigh. Dr. Lee grumbled under her breath before letting out a curse.

“What happened?” Dean perked up.

“Their blood.” Dr. Lee looked confused. “The Tanner samples. There’s no trace of the virus. No sulfur. Nothing.”

The boys and I shared a look.

***

Dr. Lee spoke to Duane and Mark, who were loading up a truck. She shook her head before coming over to us. Mark waved, and the three of us held a hand up.

“What about him?” Dean asked Dr. Lee as she sighed.

“He’s going to be fine. No signs of infection.”

I hummed, and Dean nodded. Sam chewed at his lip, eyebrows furrowed. Mark and Duane got into the truck and pulled away. Dean looked up at Sam, who put his hands up.

“Hey, don’t look at me. I got no clue.”

“I swear, I’m gonna lose sleep over this one. I mean… why here? Why now? And there the fuck did they all go? It’s like they just melted.”

“And why was I immune?”

Dean blew a raspberry. “Yeah, you know what? That’s a good question.”

I shrugged. “I’m already starting to feel like this is the one that got away.”

***

“So…” Sam takes a swig of his beer and looks down at the river. “Last night. Wanna tell me what the hell you were talking about?”

“What do you mean?” Dean squints.

Olive looks between the boys. Sam gives her a soft smile. She leans into his side and closes her eyes.

“You said you were tired of the job, Dean. And that it wasn’t just because of Dad.”

Dean huffs. “Forget it.”

“No. No, I can’t.” Sam shakes his head. “No way.”

“Come on, man.” Dean scowls. “I thought we were all gonna die. You can’t hold that over me.”

“No, no, no, no. You can't pull that crap with me, man. You're talking.” Sam crosses his arms over his chest.

“And what if I don't?”

“Then I guess I'll just have to keep asking until you do.” Sam challenges.

Dean sighs again, looking out over the water. “I don't know, man. I just think maybe we ought to… go to the Grand Canyon.”

“What?”

“You know, all this driving back and forth across the country, we’ve never been to the Grand Canyon. Or maybe we could go to T.J. Or Hollywood. See if we can bang Lindsey Lohan.”

Olive’s nose scrunches up, and she looks up at Sam, who is equally confused.

“Dean…”

“You’re not making any sense.”

“I just think we should take a break from all this. Why do we gotta get stuck with all the responsibility, you know? Why can't we live life a little bit?”

“Why are you saying all this?” A concerned look drapes itself over Sam’s face.

Dean shakes his head and looks the other way.

“No, no, no. Dean.” Sam tries.

“Dean, we’re a family.” Olive places a hand on his shoulder. “We carry each other’s burdens, remember?”

“I can’t. I promised.” Dean whispers.

“Promised who, Dean?” Sam inches closer to his siblings.

“Dad.” Dean’s voice is weak.

“Dean, what are you talking about?” Olive squints.

Dean looks down, then up, tears in his eyes. “Right before Dad died, he told me something.” He takes a deep breath and looks up at Sam. “He told me something about you.”

Sam’s eyes grow wide. “What?”

Olive feels the tension, as does Jinx, who whines from her spot on the ground.

“Dean, what did Dad tell you?”

Previous Ep: Crossroad Blues (2.08)

Next Ep: Hunted (2.10)

taglist:

@i67

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niuniente · 5 years ago

Note

If you're doing the quarantine questions, 43, 46, 48. If you aren't, disregard. :-) Hope you're well!

43. What’s getting you through these tough times?I must say these times are easier to me than to most it seems. I have this weird feeling like this is not my business - just follow the guidance and keep safe - but I have already done the work with myself and my life this crisis makes many face; fears, worries, belief systems, views, expectations, meaning of your life, what are your dreams etc. So i kinda… get to rest? If that makes sense.

Astrologically I knew that this year would start with a planetary placement which started WWII. So I knew big societal and global things would happen, something super upsetting when the universe steps in and says “STOP” to humanity’s destructive habits it uses against itself. I knew a big thing was going to happen. Now it has been just “Oh yeah, there it is now, this is the thing”.

And because I was a homebody shut in anyway, my life is like 90% the same it used to be before this virus. There’s not much adjustments I have needed to make :D

What I try to do now anyway is to keep up the good mood, as I believe what we radiate to the world, it’s affecting others, too. We’re all spiritually connected. So, I have been going through Dragon Age romance route videos lately and party banters for laughs. Kept my house energetically clean so the outside anxieties don’t get in here. Did my best to support small companies as what upsets me the most is the thought that these lovely small businesses wouldn’t make it. I have been listening Christmas songs non-stop and just idled. Slept and spoken with the spirit with my divination cards. Watched Pick a Card videos to find out what kind of a spiritual work I can do with myself now and what to expect for the personal future.

Kind of like Self Care Weeks :3 I have found out many insights about myself now when the rest of the world is quiet and turned inwards, too. It clearly seems to affect how well I can tune into the spirit.

46. Tell me something positive.My stomach seems to be able to handle banana! Victory!

48. What’s your favorite quote?“Never be in thrall to anyone but your own wants and desires, because only you can make yourself happy. Fly your own flag, and be true to it. Your soul is the true captain.”

— Billy Idol

#ask meme #ask niu #dannybagpipesarecalling

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thewolfswriting · 5 years ago

Text

The Bad Boy and The Good Girl Chapter 7 (Final)

A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading this as I did writing it. I might do a one part sequel, haven't decided yet.

Pairing: Billy x Reader

Word Count: 1,338

Tag List: @amarachoren @cynthianokamaria @crazygirl3001 @beyxlm @obsessive-aspie-girl @slither-in-a-half @dreamwavej @okaybutsteveharrington @1998--js @jojo-buttercup @savagesuccubus @arkhamasylumpatient-blog1 @nintendhoes-3ds @vickilove23 @billy-spit

Warnings: Pregnancy, Angst, Fluff

---

You hovered over the toilet on your knees emptying your stomach, the nausea hitting you for the...fifth? Sixth week in a row? You couldn't remember when you started to get sick. The sensitivity in smells, headaches, and dizziness started not long after the nausea.

There was a knock on the bathroom door and the sound of your mother's voice "Y/N? Are you okay?" Your mother noticed these certain changes. You flushed the toilet before standing up at the sink, washing your hands and mouth before responding

"Yes mom. I'm fine." You looked in the mirror, noticing the paleness of your skin, and the dark circles around your eyes. It's not like you didn't get much sleep, all you wanted to do now was sleep. You just hoped it was just sickness and that it would pass soon

---

Nancy showed up at your house later that day. She too was worried about you, except she had a theory "I haven't seen you since last week. You feeling better?" You sat on your bed to minimize the dizziness and nausea "I feel fine." Liar. Nancy knew better "Y/N I don't think it's a stomach virus." She hesitated "What if your pregnant?" You looked at her like she was nuts. You haven't given it much thought, until now.

You didn't even realize you had missed your monthly. "Oh, god Nancy don't say that. I mean it's impossible, right?" What if her theory is correct?

"Only one way to find out."

Nancy took you to the nearest pharmacy since you didn't want to go alone. It was safe to say you were terrified. After drove you back to your house you stayed seated in the passenger seat in silence before she spoke "Call me if you need anything." You smiled and nodded before sliding out of the car and walking towards your house. It's now or never.

---

You sat on the bathroom floor, waiting for the results from the pregnancy test you just took. So many thoughts danced around in your head. What if it's positive? What would your mother and father say? What would Billy...you didn't even want to think about what he would do or say.

Minutes on what seemed like hours went by. You got to your feet and took a deep breath before looking at the test, you hoped would be negative. But you hoped all too much. Positive. The test was positive.

Your hands began to shake as tears rolled down your face. You sank down to the floor, pulling your knees to your chest, sobbing. Once again there was a knock on the door "Come in."

Your mother opened the door seeing you on the floor "Y/N, what's wrong? I heard you crying." She bent to her knees as you handed her the test. She took a deep sigh "Billy's I'm assuming?" Billy met your parents a few days after they came back from town "Are you mad?"

"No, I'm not mad. I'm not happy, but I'm not mad. Your father needs to know too and you're going to have to tell Billy at some point." She was right and you knew it. The thought of telling him only made you even more terrified "I'm going to let you decide if you want to keep it. I'll support whatever decision you make." Of course you wanted to keep it. Maybe everything would be okay after all.

---

It's been a week since you found out, and you still haven't told Billy. But he wasn't stupid, he noticed your changes and started asking questions, even though you made up an excuse for every single one. But today was the way you were going to tell him. Why? Because today you had your first appointment.

The car ride to your appointment was silent as you were nervous, it was safe to say your mother was so, but only because you were. After the usual questions, standard exams and having you take another test it wasn't long before the doctor came in "Good afternoon, I'm Doctor Curry. You must be Y/N?" She smiled at you.

"That would be me." You said, still nervous.

Dr. Curry sat down on the stool in front of you and looked at her clipboard with your papers on it "Well, the test we had you take came back positive. If you wouldn't mind I'd like to do an ultrasound?" You looked at your mother, hoping she would nod in approval, which she did. A few minutes later a nurse who you assumed was the ultrasound technician came in with the ultrasound machine.

After she squeezed the gel on your abdomen and rolled around the transducer, the nurse pointed to the screen "That's the amniotic sack and that little one there is your baby. And this-" She pressed a few buttons "Is the heart beat." You smiled at the sound of hearing your baby's heart beat for the first time. "For the approximate size, I'd say you are about seven weeks." The nurse spoke, breaking the silence.

Seven weeks along of having a life growing inside your womb. A life you began to love. A life you were hoping Billy would too.

---

It was later that night when Billy came to your house and took you to the top of the hill, where you had your first date. Despite the fact that you were terrified, it was the perfect time to tell him.

Billy took your hands in his, rubbing the back with his thumb, he noticed your expression in body language "You wanna tell me what's going on?"

You blinked a few times to hold back the tears that pricked your eyes. You didn't even know where to begin. "You know how I've been getting dizzy, having nausea and all that other stuff?"

He nodded "What about it?"

Now is when you couldn't hold back the tears "Well, I went to the doctor today. I'm not sick Billy-"

He furrowed his eyebrows, cutting you off mid sentence, his voice changing "Are you telling me what I think you are?"

"I'm pregnant."

Billy let go of your hand and looked out the driver side window, running a hand over his face. He sighed deeply before regaining his composure "How long have you known?"

"A week." You said in barely a whisper.

That's when Billy almost lost it, but he did his best to keep his anger under control, not wanting to scare you. "You've known for a week and you just now decided to tell me?! What the hell Y/N?"

You opened the passenger door and climbed out, walking away from the car. Billy sat there for a few seconds deciding if he should go after you, even though he knew he made the situation worse by raising his voice, he didn't want to lose you.

He climbed out of the driver "Y/N, wait" jogging to catch up with you. Finally when he did, he grabbed your arm putting you to a halt "I'm sorry for raising my voice. But I want to know why you just now told me."

You looked him in the eye, the tears still streaming down your face "Because I was scared. I was scared that you would leave and that you would be mad at me."

Billy didn't know what to say. But what he did know was that it hurt knowing you thought he would've left. Seeing you scared and crying hurt him more than anything, even when he wouldn't admit it.

Billy pulled you against his chest and wrapped his arms around you "I promise you I'm not mad and I'm not leaving. If never wanted anybody more than I do you. I love you, and I'll love this baby just the same."

You rested your head on his chest, getting the comfort you needed and wanted. You were relieved to hear the words he just said and could tell he meant it. You have a life growing in your womb that would be loved by you and Billy.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove angst #stranger things #billy hargrove series

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hot-boy-jimin · 6 years ago

Text

Bullet Wound | Stranger Thing 2|

Six-

November 3rd 1984 ~ The Byers' household.

She couldn't believe it.

Seven looked at the girl's back as she stood in front of the door of the house after killing the monster.

"Eleven." Her voice held disbelief and a tear rolled down her cheek.

Eleven turned around with her mouth agape as she took in her sister's form.

"Sev." She launched her body onto her sister's and Seven immediately hugged her back with broken sob escaped them both as they reunited.

They pulled away and both looked down at the dead monster. Seven used her powers and launched it through the window of the house to alert the person's inside that they were safe.

"Let's go in." Eleven nodded her head and they both walked to the door.

Eleven opened the door and they were met with familiar faces.

Every one looked at them in shock and slight apprehension as most of them had no clue who Seven was.

Seven allowed herself to move forward into the house as everyone started to greet her sister.

Dustin walked to her and hugged her which caused Seven to let out a sound of surprise.

"Hey kid." She said after he pulled away. He smiled at her with his artificial teeth and she returned the gesture before he walked over to her sister.

Seven turned her head when she felt eyes on her. The other people in the room looked at her with questioning eyes. She took a peek inside of their minds and was immediately bombarded with questions.

Who is she?

Is she from the lab?

Did Eleven find her from somewhere?

All of a sudden it was as if she was somewhere else. She looked around the room but she was no longer there, was in the upside down, and there was a boy, Will.

"Will?" She called out to him.

He grabbed her hand tightly.

"Help me."

"What's wrong with her?" Max asked as they watched the girl look around as if she was blind.

Eleven grabbed her sister's hand but pulled it away when she felt how cold it was and she saw what Seven was seeing.

"She talking to Will."

Joyce put her hand over her mouth, and everyone looked at the blonde with wide eyes.

"You need to to burn it out of him." Seven spoke alerting everyone that she was broken out of her trance.

"What?" Johnathan asked.

"He likes it cold." Everyone looked at Joyce now as she spoke and they watched as she made it to Will's room.

"That's what he kept saying to me

We keep giving it what it wants." The mother continued.

"Will's the host, so that means its like a virus." Nancy was the first one to figure it out.

"We need to make the host uninhabitable." Johnathan finally piecing it together.

They were now moving around no longer wasting anytime.

Johnathan, Nancy, and Joyce were taking Will to Hopper's cabin to try and burn the mind flayer out of Will.

"You're hurt." Eleven said when she saw blood seeping through Seven's shirt.

Seven looked down and let out a grunt as she touched the wet spot.

"It's nothing."

Eleven looked at her sister with a sharp and worrying look in her eyes. "You're staying here."

"No I have to help you close the gate."

Eleven placed her hands on her sister's shoulders and looked into her eyes.

"It's my turn to protect you now." Seven's eyes softened at her sister's words and she hugged her carefully not wanting to open her stitches anymore.

Seven had agreed to stay behind with Steve and the kids. She was in the bathroom trying to re stitch her wound but she was failing miserably.

"Steve." Her voice was a lot tired than it had been before.

Steve opened the door and his eyes opened wide when he saw her. There was blood smeared on her stomach and on her hand, it was a grotesque sight by is was enough to make the boy queazy.

"Can you help? Please." She asked him.

"What do I have to do?" Steve's voice said shakily as he looked at seven.

"Just help me stitch the wound." She told him.

He grabbed the needle she had in her hand and tried to do what he was told, but he was doing even worse than her.

"Ow!"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Steve repeated when he accidentally pricked her with the needle.

"Stop!" She said rather loudly which alerted the attention of Max and Lucas who were sitting down in the hallway.

"Holy shit." Lucas said when he saw the scene before him.

He covered his eyes when he realized seven wasn't wearing a shirt.

"What are you doing to her?" Max asked Steve with a stern tone.

"Can you help please?" Steve's voice was frantic.

Max shook her head and grabbed the needle from Steve and pushed him and Lucas out of the bathroom, leaving her and seven alone.

Max started stitching the girl's wound in silence. Seven looked down at where the girl was working and was surprised to see that she was doing it rather perfectly.

"Where did you learn that?"

"Taught myself when I started skateboarding." Max was finished rather quickly and seven was mazes at how well it turned out.

"Thank you."

Max looked at the girl and gave her small smile, it soon faltered when she thought about how she was with Billy this morning. Not understanding how she ended up being around an asshole like him.

Seven was sitting on the couch watching as the kids argued with Steve. She had decided it would be best to sit a relaxed to allow herself to regain some more energy, but she felt the hairs stand on the back of her neck when she heard the familiar rev of Billy's car.

Her and the others rushed to the window and Max's frantic voice broke through the air. They moved from the window when Steve decided to go and reason with the other boy.

"This won't end well." Seven thought, knowing that Billy was already upset tonight. It had amazed her at how much she had care for the broken boy in such a short amount of time.

She was broken out of her thoughts when the door slammed open, revealing the hot headed boy.

Seven stepped in front of the kids protectively she saw how angry he was.

Billy was already upset and confused before, but seeing Steve Harrington exiting the small house made him livid.

"Am I dreaming or is that you Harrington?"

"Yeah it's me, don't cream your pants."

Billy glanced over towards the window of the house and he felt his anger reach its peak. With a few more words exchanged between the two males Billy got even more agitated when he saw Seven.

He pushed Steve to the ground and kicked him in the stomach. He threw his cigarette on the ground as he stomped his way to the front door, slamming it open he was immediately faced with Seven, his sister and a few other kids, but what really confused him was the drawings all over the place.

He looked at the group and Max moved from behind Seven and faced her brother.

"Go away Billy." Her voice was meek.

"I thought I told you to stay away from him. I you disobeyed me Max, and you know what happens when you disobey me, I break things."

He rushed forward and grabbed Lucas and pushed him against the wall.

Seven didn't want to hurt anyone but she knew if she didn't do something Billy would hurt Lucas.

She heard the fear in Lucas' voice and it was as if something in her snapped. She looked at the table and saw a block with kitchen knives in them.

She grabbed one and threw it at the side of Billy's head. It landed in the wall only inches away from his face.

The room fell silent and Billy dropped Lucas who ran towards the other kids as Billy turned to face them.

Steve had made into the room and saw that Billy was staring at the blonde girl.

"The last thing I want to do is hurt you, so please leave." Her voice was commanding and her face held no emotion.

Billy squinted at her and stepped forward which caused everyone to hold their breath.

"No one tells me what to do." He said menacingly.

He was trying to hide the hurt and fear he felt not only from his father, but from the way she threw the knife so easily.

He tried to punch Steve but the other boy ducked as the others backed away. Steve sent a fist flying towards Billy's face but was stopped by Seven who gripped the boy's fist and flipped his body over expertly.

Billy was in the ground groaning in pain before he could even comprehend what happened.

"Grab your gear and head to the car." She said coldly and the kids followed her orders without question.

She grabbed the keys from Billy's pocket and threw them to Max.

"Warm up the engine, I'll deal with them."

________

1533 words.....

Unedited.....

Hope you enjoyed.....

#billy hargrove #stranger things #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove x reader #dustin stranger things #eleven #lucas sinclair #stranger things 2 #dacre montgomery #sabrina carpenter #fanfic #max mayfield #mike wheeler #will byers #fantasy

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grownups-are-the-real-monsters · 5 years ago

Note

🎧 + 4 + Pete/Henry for the ficlet thing! Thank you!

Thank you!!! Song #4 was: ‘Where’s The Orchestra’ by Billy Joel which is like the perfect song for them!?!?!

(Send me a 🎧 with a number from 1-100 and i’ll write you a ficlet using my corresponding spotify wrapped song as a prompt. You can send any of my listed ships!!)

SSDD....Same Shit Different Day

Lately for Henry that meant the terrible thoughts of offing himself which now seemed to consume and overwhelm his entire mind. There was no legitimate plan or particular course of action he preferred but it lived and persisted in Henry’s being like a virus.

He was worried about his present and his future because sometimes life just seemed to be a damn play Henry had to sit through because tickets were free. Nothing was going as planned.

Sometimes the only thing he could really manage to do in the moments like this one, were to sit in his lonesome car...parked in the parking lot of some grocery store or some-shit. In this case, his prime choice was a local strip mall filled with mostly dead shops and a liquor store doubling as ‘a fine Deli establishment’. Jonesy had been served a delicious chicken salad there on a Tuesday afternoon. Though it didn’t taste so good when it came up later that night...six times, if Henry remembered correctly. A nice ol’ dose of food-poisoning to keep the kid from returning.

Rain pounded on outside and made it almost impossible to see very clearly but he had no problem recognizing the happy looking Pete strolling outside Marty’s vomit-inducing Deli. Henry could call any of his friends presence very easily despite blockers like blurred vision. The bunch of them were close enough that they could probably recognize each other by the skin of their asses, that’s what Beaver said anyway. Which was disturbing yet accurate. He had to admit.

Pete was hugging a large brown paper bag and giggling to himself, the heather-gray NASA sweatshirt bleeding darker from the wetness. It was a sight that relieved Henry of some strain. He opened his door just a tad and attempted to scare the pants off his best friend.

He waited until good ol’ oblivious Pete was close and honked his loud-ass horn.

“Shit!” Pete bounced and just barely escaped a face-plant, catching himself and the brown-bag.

“Get in before you drown, Pete.” Henry shook his head and turned the heat up several notches as the boy hopped inside, easy-going grin on his blushed red face. The bag came first and it just so happened to be filled with illegally-required beer. Pete didn’t seem to notice the strained look it gave Henry and was instead happily making himself comfortable.

“Marty needs to stop letting this shit get by, Pete.” Henry slid a bottle free and shook it under his friends nose.

Pete glanced up for a second or two but kept on trying to twist-off a bottle-top that needed to be pried. “People drink, Henry-”

“Yeah but you could at least wait until you’re twenty-one to have the drinking problem of a forty-year old, Pete.” Henry didn’t truly intend to be so cold or upfront but the his currently anxiety was enough to burn a small fire in his chest.

Pete chuckled like it was no big deal and smiled. “I’ll probably be dead before I hit twenty-one anyway-”

Henry stole the bottle from his hand and rolled down his window, chucking it out like he’d once done with big rocks by the lake with his best friends. “Don’t say things like that, asshole.”

Pete paused for a minute or two and rolled his lips together. “Sorry. I’m sorry.” He held up his hands in mock-surrender. “I know I’ve been a piece of work lately...”

Henry thought about making a joke to lighten the mood but decided against. Rather, he finally unbuckled and turned as best he could to face this boy who was far better than this. Instinctively, he reached over to brush some of his rain-plastered hair back.

“And I don’t admit to that...like ever. So, take it while you can.” Pete stole a joke and laughed lightly. But both of them knew he was not too happy and both of them were worried.

“It’s not comforting when you talk like you despise yourself, y’know?” Henry blinked. That comment hadn’t been one of Pete’s worst in the last week nor was it even close to how Henry talked to himself these days. But it sure wasn’t warm.

It was hard to ignore the man’s self-deprecating attitude which appeared whenever the topic of drinking came up. And none of his friends would ever want to ignore it. In all honesty, it was deeply unsettling but not uncommon to hear the other man talk like that. As long as he’d known him, Pete put on a front that he was some confident man. It was so smooth and effortless that it was entirely convincing. Hearing him crack jokes and smirk at his own extroverted personality gave the illusion that it wasn’t stemming from insecurity.

Henry quickly saw through the facade because it wasn’t all that different from what he did.

“Like you’re any better.” Pete countered him and Henry leaned back as if slightly blown away by the little gasp he let out. “You’ve casually hated yourself for months now.” Pete’s voice was soft but fully believing of his statement, as if not realizing how hard-hitting that accusation was. But it came from genuine concern and familiarity.

Henry’s stomach twisted in a way that was probably similar to what Jonesy felt before throwing-up that chicken salad. The air between them turned a little spoiled and thick. Neither man knew how to move on from the subject.

In an odd turn of events, Pete just let out a long sigh and turned so that he could let his head fall and rest on Henry’s shoulders.

Rain continued to cloud the sky and dampen the day but Henry was a little warmer....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope this isn’t too bad!!!

#pete moore #henry devlin #dreamcatcher #drabble #my fanfiction #stephen king #stephen king books #ships

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lemonflavouredspatula · 6 years ago

Text

Someone stop me writing angst

---

Billy hadn't understood it, not at first. This feeling in the pit of his stomach, the clawing at the back of his brain. Like something else was there, deciding things for him, telling him which way to turn at the crossroads. He'd felt it fester, grow, reach into his veins, take control. He wasn't sure how much of him was actually him now, how much of it was inhabiting his body, his movements, his decisions. He'd been managing it fine, treating it like a virus, telling himself that if he believed it wasn't bad that it wouldn't affect him.

And he'd believed it. Up until now.

It had taken him ending up at Hawkins' popular arcade, hidden in the cloak of the night before he'd even registered he'd gotten out of bed that morning, to realise that maybe this thing was more than just a virus, more than the mini blackouts and minor losses of control. More than a niggling feeling hidden at the back of his mind.

"Hello, Billy."

The voice he heard inside his head wasn't his own. It wasn't the one he used to tell himself if he was an idiot, that he needed to sort himself out. It wasn't the one that replayed over and over in his head of Neil telling him he was worthless, a disappointment, disgusting. It wasn't the one that Steve used to tell him he loved him, deep in the night in a moment of hidden intimacy. It was something else. Something that Billy hadn't heard before. Something that came from that headache at the back of his mind.

"What do you want?" He asked, shouted to no one but himself.

"To hurt the people who hurt me." The voice said, echoed painfully inside his head.

"And what do i have to do with that?" He was getting angry, frustrated. Nothing made sense. He'd walked all the way to the arcade and he didn't remember anything after going to sleep the night before. The blackouts had never been that bad.

"I needed a body. A strong one. One not afraid to fight.”

And fine, Billy wasn't exactly weak. He knew how to throw a punch and land it right where it would hurt. But he still didn't understand.

"Why me?"

"Because i needed someone who could get close."

Billy still didn't understand. But no matter how many times he asked why, screamed at this thing to give him a clearer answer, asked who he wanted to get close to, he got nothing but silence. It hadn't gone, he knew it hadn't, he could feel it growing, breathing, settling. But it said nothing, left him standing at the side of the arcade, shivering with the lack of a jacket.

The familiar rumblings of Steve's car distracted him, stole him from his thoughts. He heard Steve telling him he was picking the kids up that evening, but it was like the memory wasn't his. It was like Steve had told him but it wasn't him that had heard. Then Jonathan turned up, Nancy in tow, waving hi to Steve as they did. The kids ran out, split themselves towards the two cars. El, Mike and Will with Nancy and Jonathan. Dustin, Max and Lucas with Steve. The same split as always.

Billy watched on, stayed hidden at the side of the building, not trusting himself to go over and say hi. Not trusting this thing to stay quiet.

But then his legs were moving, carrying him towards the group he could now call friends. He tried to stop it, to turn around, to tell this thing in his head to leave them alone. It was all starting to piece together in a broken and fractured and not quite right puzzle and Billy wished it wouldn't. He didn't know much, he knew there were parts they'd left out, parts that Steve hadn't told him in hushed whispers after one too many a bottle of whiskey. But he knew there was something going on in this hick arse town, knew there were stories you didn't speak of and other worlds within touching distance at every turn. He knew they'd all been involved somehow, that Will had had some kind of connection to this other world, that El wasn't exactly your average 15 year old.

The dots kept connecting, Billy kept trying to turn his body back, get some kind of control. He knew they'd burnt a monster out of Will. He knew this monster wanted to hurt the people who had hurt him.

Then it clicked, quickly, painfully, like a jolt to his heart. He wanted to hurt them, all of them. He wanted to hurt Steve.

There was a couple of ‘hey Billy's’ called, smiles sent his way before they turned sour, before their expressions went from excitement to fear.

He could feel it creeping through his lungs, taking all movements no matter how small. Billy couldn't move himself, couldn't blink for himself, couldn't even breathe for himself. He didn't want to know what expression his face was showing, but from the fear on everyone's faces, the terror in their eyes, he knew it wasn't good.

"Billy?" It was said in warning, with trepadation. They were scared.

"Try again." It said. Stole Billy's voice this time, as if his body hadn't been enough.

Dread ran through Will's face, the rest of them clocking on soon enough. They knew.

His body powered forward, he tried to stop it but the more he fought it the more it spread. Each limb he tried to slow down just got faster. Stronger. It was taking over his arms, his legs, his head was set in a position he hadn't put it in.

He watched as his arms grabbed Will, pushed him up against the wall of the arcade.

"Remember me?" It snarled, spat in his face. Billy hated hearing the aggression in his voice, he'd sworn to never use it around them again.

He felt the punch to his face, looked around as Jonathan retreated slightly, face the picture of determination.

"You think i don't remember you?" It growled, let Will fall to the floor. His legs were moving towards Jonathan, stalking the ground between them.

"Hey, arsehole." Dustin shouted from where he was crouched beside Will, along with all the other kids.

Billy felt his body turn on him, turn his back on Jonathan. He heard himself growl, felt the anger inside him towards Dustin. Not his. Never his.

His legs were moving, faster and faster with each step he took. He wanted to stop it but the more he tried the faster it got. He couldn't break through.

Dustin was within inches of his grip, one step and he'd have him, could hold him, punch him, squeeze him.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, felt it turn him around. It was the first movement his body had made since all of this started that hadn't been due to this thing inside him.

"No you don't." He heard Steve say, watched as his hand flew towards his face, struck him across his right cheek. He felt it, it stung.

He felt his arm fly towards Steve's face, saw it hit his nose, watched as it bled. He cried, shouted, screamed at this thing inside of him, wanted to tell it to stop, to leave Steve alone. But no sound came out. His arms kept punching.

Steve was fighting back, not letting the punches draw him back. He was planting his feet, Billy noticed, would have smiled if he had control over his muscles.

"Get out of my boyfriend you piece of shit!" Steve shouted. Billy heard it.

Something in his heart warmed, fought back against the cold in his veins. Steve was his boyfriend. He thought. He loved Steve. And Billy fought it, this feeling, this lack of control, grabbed onto the love he felt for Steve, let it drag him through to consciousness, push out the grip this monster held on him. He would have stood by and watched the world burn at the mercy of this thing, but he would sacrifice himself before he ever let Steve get hurt. Before anyone of them got hurt.

His head felt like it was being torn apart, like someone had drilled a hole through the top and was plying it apart with the strongest pair of metal pliers invented. His arms were shaking, his legs collapsing beneath him. His heart beat. He felt it. He felt everything.

"Go." He said. It was strained and fractured and broken. Steve looked at him from the position he'd found himself in on the floor. Billy met his eye, felt the monster trying to take its control back, felt it clawing at his mind, looked at Steve with every bit of emotion he could muster.

"GO!" He shouted, watched as the look of realisation crossed Steve's face.

There was a pounding at the base of his skull, he started to lose control of his legs, his arms. He felt the control slip away from him bit by bit, winced as the warm blood in his veins was replaced by a sharp chill, something so cold he felt his body going to sleep, slip away from him inch by inch.

Steve was still staring at him, watching him in horror as he saw the black travel through his veins. Billy could hear everyone yelling at him to leave, to run while he still could. But still, Steve didn't move.

With every single last bit of control that Billy could muster, he looked at Steve, poured everything he had into that one glance.

Please save yourself

I'm sorry

The 'i love you' was lost on Billy's lips as he succumbed to the monster once more.

And then he was gone, trapped inside his own body again, left stranded, staring at Steve as the kids grabbed his arms and dragged him. Billy heard the roar, it came from his own mouth but he didn't own it, the voice didn't even sound like his own now.

The feeling kept travelling, further and deeper than it had before, winding its way up through every blood vessel until it got to his brain. He felt it dig deep, twist and turn and break inside, curl around memories he'd kept hidden, watch as they played out in his mind.

He was lying in Steve's bed, they'd spent the night together. Billy was smiling. Steve's arm was wrapped around his middle, his nose so close Billy could feel his breaths on the back of his neck. There was no one around but them. No one to impress, no one to hide from, just them, in the glow of an early autumn morning, cuddled beneath covers that felt like home.

He felt it, an arm, a claw, wrap around it, pull it away.

They were at the quarry, it was dark, the light from the stars a glow on their faces. Music was playing from the Camaro, some cheesy song Steve had somehow persuaded Billy to infect the Camaro's delicate speakers with. They'd been arguing, something stupid, meaningless.

"I can't help that i love you, Billy!" Steve shouted, exhasperated.

"You love me?" Billy asked, dumfounded, not sure if he was just hearing what he so desperately wanted to hear.

"God, yes. Of course i love you." Steve softened, came over to stand infront of Billy.

"I love you too." He hadn't had to think about it, the words coming so naturally.

And they kissed, under the light of a billion stars, the smooth melody of a stupid love song bringing them closer together.

It twisted deeper, kept digging.

Basketball. He saw Steve walking in, felt his heart instantly beat in double time. The way his hair bounced, his eyes shone, his skin glowed. Billy was in awe. Wanted to get close, to touch. He spent the entire lesson as close as possible, marked him though he wasn't supposed too. He wanted to get to know him, made it his mission to befriend the Bambi faced boy.

Billy wanted to scream out, the pain too much, too deep.

Billy had been invited round to the Byers' for a family meal of sorts. It was a regular thing, this one was the first they'd all managed to persuade him to stay at once he'd dropped Max off. It had been nice, the food was good, the company better. They all knew about him and Steve, none of them were bothered in the slightest, just glad they'd finally admitted their feelings for each other.

He found himself in the living room, watching as Steve joined in a game of dungeons and dragons. It was day four he remembered them saying, laughed as they all delved deep into their secondary world. Steve laughed, smiled, played along, got deep into a game Billy still didn't understand. Billy watched on, smiled, felt a love blossom prominently in his heart. He never felt more at home than when he was around these people, around Steve. People who accepted him for who he was, loved him nonetheless.

Steve's face lit up as he saw Billy watching him, smiled back at him wide, teeth showing in a cheeky grin. Billy knew then and there in that moment that Steve was it for him, swore that he'd never hurt him. Never do something that meant he would lose him.

He asked him to be his boyfriend, officially, that evening. Steve didn't hesitate when he said yes.

He was blinded by the pain, could focus on nothing else as those claws ripped into the most private parts of his mind.

It was mid summer, they were sitting beside Steve's pool, drunk on the rare Hawkins sun, whiskey and each other. They were close, touching, almost breathing at the same time.

"You're not what i expected, Harrington."

"No?"

"No."

"How so?"

"The beamer, the mansion, the girls lusting after you. Never thought you'd have a heart beneath all that money."

Steve laughed, the sound a gorgeous song in the static air.

"The money belongs to my parents, who may i remind you, are never around. The car is a way to keep up the family image. I do all i can to not end up like them."

"You're nothing like them." They inched closer, their breaths syncing.

"You've never met them."

"I don't need to."

They were impossibly close, mouths millimetres apart. They looked into each other's eyes, a look that caused a thousand words to run between them. The air was electric, the sun warm on their backs.

Steve closed the gap between them, touched his delicately pink lips to Billy's chapped ones. Let them fit together as if it was always meant to be.

He pulled back, smiled up at Billy. Billy's heart warmed, leapt in joy as he smiled back, closed the gap once more.

Maybe the alcohol had pushed them towards it, maybe given the confidence they'd both needed to give into the feelings they'd spent months fighting. But they woke up the next morning in a tangle of sheets and limbs, cuddled close together, promises being whispered between the two in synced heartbeats and tight grips. And neither of them had ever looked back.

His head felt lighter, his heart began to ache.

Steve had managed to convince him to a date, a picnic atop a hill on the outskirts of Hawkins. They'd got sandwiches and crisps and chocolate and fruit. A couple of cans of beer to wash it all down. Billy had brought his stereo, a mixtape he'd made for them both lodged safely inside. It played out, quiet, as they sat and ate and talked under the blazing heat of the sun.

A fast, upbeat song started playing as they were letting their food go down, a can of beer each helping the matter. Steve looked at Billy in awe, an expression that said 'you remembered' clear on his face. And yes, of course Billy remembered. Couldn't forget how quickly and how deeply Steve had fallen in love with the upbeat tempo of 'Footloose'.

Billy held out a hand, waited for Steve to meet his gaze.

"Harrington, may i have this dance?"

Steve leapt up, pulled Billy to his feet faster than he could register the 'yes' Steve had yelled his way in excitement.

They danced and bounced and flailed around together, hands linked in an unbreakable grip, smiles wide on their faces. Billy had been nervous, wary about actually officially dating a guy in the not quite with the times town of Hawkins, but the smile on Steve's face, the bounce in his step and the way he was looking at Billy with a love so deep present in his eyes, made all of it so worth it.

The song finished and they laid down next to each other on the blanket Steve had laid out on the grass, hands never once letting go, breaths loud and evident and together from the energy they'd just used.

"One day, when we're allowed, i'm going to marry you, Steve Harrington. And it will be the most wonderful day of my life."

He heard Steve's breaths stop, felt his body still. He was worried he'd gone too far.

But then Steve spoke, gripped his hand even tighter than before.

"Im only saying yes if that's our first dance." And Billy laughed, let all of the panic and anxiety flow out of his body in one big sigh of relief.

"I wouldn't want anything less." He said, leant over to kiss Steve.

He knew they were probably years away from that ever being a possibility, possibly their lifetimes and more, but Billy let himself dream. Let his heart flutter inside his chest as he imagined the rest of their lives together. He'd never realised that being so inexplicably happy could be this easy.

Those claws kept getting deeper, kept winding around the memories he had stored inside his mind, played them out in front of him, stole them away again. He was in agony, started to see white, felt his head getting lighter and lighter. The feeling crept down to his heart, he felt as the black venom sunk deep into his veins, made itself at home painfully inside his heart. And then Billy blacked out, lost all sense of feeling and site. Didn't see as the monster used his body to run after Steve and the others, didn't feel as his arms collided with his face, with everyone else’s bodies. He couldn't watch as his hands slowly beat Steve unconscious. Left damage over the bodies of people he was lucky to call his friends.

---

He didn't remember anything when he woke up, lying down, warm under a blanket. There was a constant beep sounding to his left, a sharp pain on the backs of each of his knuckles. There was a warmth shrouding his right hand, covering it, gripping it so tight it almost hurt. He opened his eyes, closing then again against the bright lights, opened them slower when it began to hurt less.

He felt the hand holding his move, looked over as the person it belonged to started to spill words out of his mouth, look at him with eyes wet with tears. It took him a few seconds to hear, his ears ringing with a pain he didn't understand.

"-hit me but it doesn't matter because it wasn't you, not really. El saved you, she expelled whatever the hell that thing was from you. You're free, Billy." A sob paused his ramblings, his grip tightened on Billy's hand.

"I love you, Billy. I'm so glad you're okay." He said, leant down and gave him a hug, pressed a kiss to his swollen lips.

He broke it when Billy didn't respond, pulled back to stare at him, confused.

"Billy?" He asked, looked hurt.

"Who are you?" Billy said, voice broken. Steve’s heart sunk.

"What? It's me, Steve?" He, Steve, said.

"I don't know who you are." Billy said, watched as tears began to roll down Steve's face once more.

He looked around the room, watched everyone's faces look on in horror. He knew them, everyone else. Will, Mike, El, Dustin, Lucas, Max, Jonathan, Nancy, Joyce, Hopper. Hell, he even recognised Doctor Owens from times he'd passed him in the street. He listed them off, watched as Steve broke down, as Joyce ran over and hugged him.

Max came over, whispered quietly.

"Steve's your boyfriend, Billy. How do you not remember him?"

Billy laughed, hated the way everyone looked at him as the sound echoed through the room. She was serious, he could tell. But he didn't even remember ever meeting this Steve kid, let alone dating him.

He stared at Steve, watched as he broke down in the corner of the room, listened as his sobs wracked his body, became the most prominent thing in the building.

He wanted to remember, hated that he was causing someone this much pain but there was nothing, his mind so empty of memories as it was, but there was not a single thing he could think of that ever related to Steve. Not a meeting, a glance or even a mere mention of his name.

He had no recollection of what had happened, how he'd ended up in a hospital bed surrounded by his friends and Steve. He didn't remember the monster that had inhabited his body, how it had crawled deep inside his brain and stolen every memory of Steve when it realised his love for him was the one thing that could break Billy free. Could give him the power to gain control.

"You defy me, and i take what you love."

It was a distant whisper, an echo deep inside his mind. The voice scratched at a door named recognition but he couldn't understand why, convinced himself he was hearing things, that the drugs being pumped into his veins were making him go a little bit crazy.

He ignored it, wrote it off as a side effect of whatever the hell had made his head feel this bad and laid in his bed, listened as Steve cried and cried and cried, felt his heartbreaking for a love he never knew he had. For someone he never remembered meeting.

The sound haunted him, didn't end and Billy knew it was his fault, that he was causing this person, this stranger, an unimaginable amount of pain.

But what was he supposed to do?

He couldn't love someone he didn't know.

#so this is apparently how i make myself feel better amongst all of the stress and horror of what tomorrow is going to bring #and you know what?#i'm not okay #i will stop hurting these boys one day i promise #but unfortunately today is not that day #can't wait to spend tomorrow crying because billy dies #harringrove #stranger things #billy x steve #steve x billy #mindflayer!billy #angst #no one died this time tho !!!!!!#(i am aware i'm a horrible person)#fanfic #spatula rambles #seriously though #someone take my keyboard away from me

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thepokyone · 6 years ago

Text

Finding Eleven Pt. 9

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader

Content/Warnings: angst; violence; language

Words: 2564

A/N: So Billy is in this chapter. Finally. Things are happening, and I dropped canon like it’s hot, so there’s that. Anyway, enjoy!

Series Masterlist

Part 9: Benched

“It’s not like it was before,” Hopper said, all of you gathered around as he had discussed what he had seen at the gate. “It’s grown. A lot. And I mean, that’s considering we can even get in there. That place is crawling with those dogs.”

“Demodogs,” Dustin interrupted.

Hopper raised his eyebrows. “I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s demogorgon and dog mashed together,” You said, before Dustin could rehash the whole thing again. “Moving on.”

“Uh, right,” Hopper said, shaking his head. “As I was saying-”

“I can do it,” El said quietly.

“You’re not hearing me,” Hopper said. And as much as you agreed with him, you knew she was right. It was the only way.

The resolve was clear in her voice. “I’m hearing you. I can do it.”

Though her eyes still slid to you, seeking your approval. You gave her a tiny nod, feeling warmth curl in your stomach at the realization that it was your permission, not Hopper’s, that she wanted, even after all this time.

“Even if El can, there’s still another problem.” Mike’s voice cut through your silent conversation. “If the brain dies, the body dies.”

“I thought that was the whole point,” Max said.

“Will is part of the body,” You said.

Mike nodded. “And if we’re right, and El closing the gate kills the Mind Flayer’s army…”

“Will dies too,” Lucas finished.

You leaned back, running a hand through your hair. “There has to be a way to separate Will from the Mind Flayer.”

“You’ve done it,” Joyce said, staring at you. “How did you do it?”

“Force of will, mostly. But Will could never do it. Even with my gifts, it was like he was pressing shards of ice into my brain,” You said, frowning. “It’s too risky for me to try and free Will, I couldn’t do it. I barely held the Mind Flayer off the first time. There has to be another way.”

“I want to see him,” El said, breaking the troubled silence that followed.

“Okay, sweetheart. Sure, you can see him,” Joyce said, she and Jonathan leading the way to his room. It was frigid, a chill crawling it’s way up your spine. After your experience with the Mind Flayer, you never wanted to feel cold again.

“He likes it cold.” Joyce’s voice was soft, but it was enough to break you out of your thoughts.

“What?” Hopper asked. He clearly wasn’t following.

“It’s what Will kept saying to me. He likes it cold. We keep giving it what it wants!” Joyce exclaimed. “When you tried to bring Will back, Y/N, you said it tried to take over your mind instead. Like shards of ice?”

“And hot water was what helped me beat it back,” You said slowly, comprehension dawning on your face.

Nancy, too, had caught on. “If this is a virus, and Will is the host, then…”

“We need to make the host uninhabitable,” Jonathan finished.

“So if he likes it cold…” Nancy continued.

Once again, she was cut off - this time by Joyce. “Then we need to burn it out of him.”

“We have to do it somewhere he doesn’t know this time,” Mike said.

Dustin agreed. “Yeah, somewhere far away.”

Hopper spoke. “I know a place.”

The following few minutes were spent in a flurry of activity, Hopper carrying Will out to Joyce’s car as he gave directions to his cabin. While they were busy, you joined Steve and Nancy to search for heaters or anything else that may help Will, though you drifted away to give them privacy. They had history, and it wasn’t your place to interfere. Regardless, you offered Nancy what you hoped was a comforting smile before following after Steve, back towards the house.

“Mike is just saying goodbye to El,” Dustin told you. “They’re out front. I’d give them a minute.”

“Thanks,” You said with a nod, moving the curtain to glance out the window. You thought for a moment they were going to kiss, but Hopper called, and you knew you had only moments to say goodbye to her. You hurried outside before they could leave.

“You’ll be fine,” You said softly, pulling her into a hug. “You’re so strong, stronger than I ever was - and I don’t just mean your powers. You’ve been through so much, you could have ran away at any moment, but you didn’t. Not like I did. And I need you to know that leaving you behind was the worst decision I ever made. I’ve always regretted it, so when you get back, I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

“You don’t have to,” She whispered, eyes glistening with tears.

You pressed a kiss to her forehead, clinging on for a moment longer, knowing that where she was going you wouldn’t be able to protect her. Finally, you dropped your arms, meeting Hopper’s gaze. “I’ll keep her safe, Y/N. I promise.”

You nodded, wiping away the tears from your eyes as El climbed into the passenger seat. You watched until the tail lights on Hopper’s car disappeared from view, reaching out to squeeze Mike’s shoulder. He glanced over at you, and you could see his eyes glistening in the darkness.

“It’ll be okay,” You said softly. He nodded slowly.

“Let’s get inside,” Steve said, after several more minutes had passed. “It’s not safe out here.”

“Doubting my ability to keep you safe, Harrington?” You teased, shooting him a weak smile.

He smiled back. “Not a chance. But let’s not stick around to attract unnecessary trouble.”

“Couldn’t you levitate this or something?” Steve complained, staring down in disgust at the demodog he was being forced to carry as Dustin made space in the fridge.

“Need to save my strength,” You said with a smirk, though it didn’t reach your eyes. “We’re not out of the woods yet. I still wish I could have gone with El.”

“But you said it was too dangerous,” Lucas said as Steve was working on wrangling the dead demodog into the fridge.

“It is. It doesn’t mean I don’t wish I could have gone. I can’t protect her from here,” You said with a sigh.

“She seems to do alright without you.” Mike hadn’t meant for the words to hurt, but they stung anyway.

“Yeah. I know,” You muttered. Unlike Mike, who was pacing a whole in the floor, you had taken up residence on the couch, eyes half-lidded shut. Being a glorified babysitter wasn’t exactly how you had planned this playing out. You ignored them as they bickered, though something caught your attention.

“There’s nothing we can do,” Steve had been saying.

“That’s not entirely true,” Dustin said slowly. “I mean, these demodogs have a hive mind. When they ran away from the bus, they were called away.”

“So if we can get their attention-” Lucas started.

Max finished his thought. “Maybe we can draw them away from the lab.”

“Clear a path to the gate,” Mike said thoughtfully.

“I’m in,” You said.

“What?!” Steve asked. “That’s a suicide mission! You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“I got it!” Mike said excitedly, moving off towards the kitchen. “This is where the chief dug his hole. This is our way in to the tunnel. So here, right here -” at this he ran off to a different part of the room, “- This is like a hub. So you got all the tunnels feeding into here. Maybe if we set this on fire-”

“Yeah, that’s a no,” Steve said, looking less than pleased.

The kids, however, were ignoring him. Dustin spoke. “The Mind Flayer would call away his army.”

“They’d all come to stop us,” Lucas said, sounding as if that was the best thing he had heard all day.

“And Y/N could hold them off!” Dustin finished, looking at you.

You raised your eyebrows. “Wait, I don’t know about that. I mean, five or ten? Sure. But over a hundred? Not a chance.”

“It’s not like we’d wait around for them!” Mike said impatiently. “We could circle back to the exit, and by the time they realize we’re gone-”

“El would be at the gate,” Max said.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Steve yelled over the noise, glaring at all of you. “This is not happening.”

He met protests from the kids, but you were starting to realize that he could be right. Even with your help, there were too many things that could go wrong. But at the same time, if you stayed put knowing you could have helped and something happened…

“No buts! I promised I’d keep you shitheads safe, and that’s exactly what I’d plan on doing. We’re staying here. On the bench. And we’re waiting for the starting team to do their job. Does everybody understand that?”

You blinked. “Uh… no. I never played sports? I mean, that is what you’re talking about, right?”

Steve let out a sigh. “It’s not happening.”

“This isn’t some stupid sports game!” Mike said angrily.

“I said does everybody understand that?” Steve asked, pointing a dish towel at them. You had to cough to hid your snickers, but you weren’t entirely successful if the glare he sent your way was anything to go on. “I need a yes.”

He probably would have gotten them to agree, if an engine revving hadn’t broken the silence. Max ran towards the window, horror on her face as she peered out.

“Who the hell is that?” You asked.

“Don’t ask me,” Steve said with a shrug.

“It’s my brother,” Max said.

“Oh, that asshat you had to sneak away from earlier?” You filled in. She nodded. “Great. Just great. Because this day couldn’t possibly get any better.”

“He can’t know I’m here, he’ll kill me. He’ll kill us,” She said, sounding scared.

“Do you guys keep forgetting I have powers, or…?” You trailed off, raising your eyebrows. Max glanced at you, and though she still looked worried, she was a little calmer than before.

“I’ll handle this,” Steve said lowly, stepping towards the door. “Step in only as a last resort, Y/N.”

“Alright, alright. Fine,” You said, shrugging. “Though I’ll decide when that is.”

“Deal.”

Billy’s voice was loud enough that it carried through the walls of the house. “Am I dreaming or is that you, Harrington?”

Steve’s retort was quick. “Yeah it’s me, don’t cream your pants.” You let out a light snort.

“What are you doing here, amigo?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Steve said. “Amigo.”

“Looking for my stepsister. Little birdie told me she was here.”

“Huh, that’s weird. I don’t know her.”

“Small, redhead, bit of a bitch,” Billy provided.

You clenched your jaw at the insult, but Steve, to his credit, sounded unphased. “Doesn’t ring a bell. Sorry, buddy.”

“You know, I don’t know, this… this whole situation, Harrington, I don’t know. It’s giving me the heebie-jeebies.” To be fair, it was odd that Steve was at the Byers’ house.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“My thirteen-year-old sister goes missing all day. And then I find her with you in a stranger’s house. And you lie to me about it.”

Steve scoffed. “Man, were you dropped too much as a child, or what? I don’t know what you don’t understand about what I just said. She’s not here.”

You realized, a little too late, that all four of the kids had their faces pressed to the window, while you were listening in on the conversation with your ear pressed to the door.

“Guys, get down!” You hissed. But it was too late.

Billy’s next words were barely audible. “Then who is that?”

“Shit!” Dustin exclaimed, the four of them ducking down. “Did he see us?”

“Yes!” You said, irritated. “Thank you, idiots. Get behind me, all of you.”

They scrambled to obey as the door whipped open, Billy striding inside. Steve was nowhere in sight. His eyes narrowed. “Well, well, well.” He slammed the door behind him, advancing. The kids scuttled backwards, but you refused to back down. “Look at what we have here. Lucas Sinclair, what a surprise. And who the hell are you?”

“Does this count as last resort?” Dustin asked, as Billy stopped mere feet away from you.

“Yeah, I’d say it does,” You said casually, simply tilting your head.

“I’m here for Max. Get out of my way,” Billy said lowly.

“I’ve heard all about you,” You said, crossing your arms. “And you’re not getting anywhere near those kids. So I suggest you turn around and walk away before I make you.”

He scoffed. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“I’ll give you one more chance. Move. Out. Of. My. Way.” Billy meant the words to be intimidating. To anyone else, they would have been.

“No.” He had barely moved before you spoke, your power, halting him in his tracks. “Stop.”

Billy was frozen in place, unable to move despite his best efforts. He was struggling against your hold, you could feel it, but it was fruitless. No one had been able to break free of your orders. “What the hell did you do to me?”

“I’m keeping you from hurting anyone else,” You said calmly.

Steve burst into the door, looking winded but otherwise unharmed. “Sorry, I-”

“No worries,” You said with a shrug. “I’m handling it.”

“Max, what the hell have you gotten yourself into?” Billy demanded, though the question was much less impressive considering he couldn’t actually do anything.

“It’s none of your business, Billy,” She said softly. “Just leave me alone.”

“I can make him, Max. Just say the word,” You offered. Billy was still struggling against your power, and the concentration you needed to keep him in check made blood begin to drip out of your nose. No one ever fought against your control this much - it was actually quite impressive. “Stop fighting it, it won’t do any good.”

“What kind of freak-”

He didn’t get to finish the sentence. Your temper snapped, dropping your use of mind control to instead grab him via telekinesis, striding towards him even as he was shoved back against the wall. “I’d choose your next words very, very carefully if I were you.”

“Y/N, stop!” Steve ordered, grabbing your arm. “Stop. Don’t sink to his level.”

You grit your teeth, staring up at Billy’s terrified face. Steve was right. You dropped your hold, and he slid to the floor with a thud. Your glare, however, didn’t falter. “Don’t try anything.”

Billy was staring at you, a mixture of fear and intrigue on his face before he dropped his head, avoiding your eyes. “I won’t.”

“What are we supposed to do with him?” Steve asked, staring down at Billy.

You were thoughtful for a moment before speaking. “We take him with us.”

“Take him with us? We’re not going anywhere, remember? We’re on the bench,” Steve told you, looking annoyed.

You shook your head, a steely glint in your eye. “I’m not going to hide here anymore. Hopper and El need that distraction to get inside. So we’re going to go start a fire, and you can come willingly… or unwillingly.”

“Alright, alright. Fine.” Steve threw his hands up in defeat, recognizing by your tone of voice that you would do anything to protect Eleven, even if it meant forcing him to agree. “Let’s go help Hopper and El.”

Tag List: @the-crime-fighting-spider @micachu1331 @esoltis280 @ilvermornyqueen @teaand-cookies @adri200189 @thisismysecrethappyplace @haven-in-writing @thepatheticsuggestions @bi-pie67 @xxwarhawk @jodibullock1 @crazylost-soul @thecrispypancak @hjlauderdale @yourneonbunny @sarcasticvodka @kaliforniacoastalteens @veryweirdintrovert @4-a-m @mirajanestrauss1999 @pageofalexandercross @hippie-taco-lady @snicketyssnake @the--real-wombat @sunflowersamssinkingsadness @violet-potter @outerxorbit @ayatimascd @oddlittlereader @wearemightyghosts

#billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove #stranger things #reader #reader insert #x reader #steve harrington #eleven #finding eleven

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totallyrhettro · 6 years ago

Text

Territorial, chapter 6

Word Count: 2059 Rating: This chapter: G. Overall story rating: explicit Warnings: None Summary: After finally realizing their shared love for one another, all internetainers Rhett and Link had to do was live happily ever after. Unfortunately, as it turns out, that’s a lot harder to do in a world of werewolves. Notes: Takes place 1 year after Animalistic began. Still no wives; Rhett and Link are in an established relationship. This is a sequel to that fic. You don’t have to read that first, but it is highly recommended.

Also available on a03

First Chapter Previous Chapter

“Wood floors are easier to clean.” Link argued. Rhett nodded, feeling his position in this conversation quickly weakening. It was the last day of their week long vacation and they were headed out to breakfast to a different restaurant. They were hoping to avoid bumping into the Lowells if possible. While they drove the long road towards town, they were discussing what to do with the flooring, now that they had finished tearing up the old carpet.

“True,” Rhett admitted. “I just don't like cold floors, and you know how I like to walk around the house without socks on.” He liked to wear as little as possible in fact, when he was at home, and this small farmhouse was like a home away from home. He was planning on wearing very little whenever they stayed there.

“We can buy rugs, then. Nice, big, area ones.” It was a reasonable compromise, but Rhett still wasn’t convinced. He, as Link knew well enough, could be very stubborn once he set his mind on an issue. Still, he didn’t really want to argue and ruin the last day of their vacation.

“Maybe,” he shrugged, looking out the window. Link sighed quietly, a soft smile on his face. They could discuss it later, and the fact that they would be talking about it later gave him a strange, light feeling in his heart. It was just so… domestic. So normal. He had hoped someday for the two of them to be having such discussions while working on their dream home together. While the old farmhouse was far from what he had dreamt of, it was still wonderful. At the very least, it could be practice for whatever future still lay ahead of them.

The house they currently lived in together the rest of the time had been Rhett’s solo estate for many years. After Link had been infected with whatever crazy virus that made him a werewolf, he moved in with his lifelong friend, mostly out of necessity. It was in the basement of Rhett’s house that they changed every month, Rhett having constructed a safe room for their wolf selves with the help of Theo. It was cheaper to own one house between them anyway and Link’s house didn't even come with a basement. Still, the decisions of decor and design had been chosen years ago when Rhett moved in, and short of doing a complete makeover, there wasn’t much that could be done to change that. There were many times when Link still felt like a visitor to the place, even though his boyfriend did his best to make him feel at home.

“You wanna help me pick out the bedroom wallpaper?” he joked. Rhett cocked an eyebrow at him before realizing the levity of the conversation. They were deciding on how to decorate the house they bought to stay at while they became werewolves three nights a month. A strangely common conversation about a definitely uncommon situation.

“As long as we can go shopping for throw pillows after,” Rhett asked, putting on a voice. “I can’t possibly sleep in a bed without at least a dozen heart shaped pillows.”

“We’ll see.” Link held his straight face only until he met Rhett’s smirking grin. Then they both burst out in giggles. It was nice to know that despite the shared canine affliction, and their freshly altered relationship, there were somethings that would probably never change.

The restaurant, not much larger than their usual breakfast spot, was called the Night and Day Cafe. It was a very small mom and pop’s place, with a seating capacity of no more than probably thirty people. Rhett liked it because they had the largest pancakes he’d ever seen, each one the size of a dinner plate. They called it the ‘mancake’, which amused Rhett to no end.

“Yeah, I’m a man, Link,” he quipped. “Manly men deserve manly sized pancakes.”

“Then manly men will get manly sized bellies,” Link retorted, sipping his second cup of coffee. Rhett leaned back and gazed down at his stomach, trying to picture his naked torso in his mind’s eye.

“I’ve actually lost a bunch of weight since the, uh… thing.” He patted his belly to emphasize his point. “Never gotten so fit without working out. I’ll never have to go to the gym again.”

“Like you went to the gym a lot before.” Rhett frowned and looked his friend up and down.

“I worked out.” He flexed his arm a few times to demonstrate.

“Occasionally,” Link added.

“Just because I didn’t do tae bo with you-”

“Hey, tae bo is a great way to work out. That Billy Blanks, man. He’ll get you working up a sweat.”

“I can make you work up a sweat,” Rhett said, speaking quite a bit softer. Link nearly spit out his coffee.

“Geez Rhett.” He glanced around, wiping his mouth. “Don’t talk like that in public. What’s wrong with you?”

“Oh come on, Link. There’s no one in here ‘cept us and the waitress, and she don’t care.”

“I care. We agreed not to tell anyone about… us.” In fact they’d had a very lengthy argument about the whole thing months ago. They decided it would make things too complicated, between being in a new relationship and Link freshly bitten.

“Maybe I don’t want to hide anymore. We have to hide so much from the real world. I don’t like hiding my feelings for you. I don’t want to lie to our friends or fans any longer. I just… I don’t think I can take it.” Link sighed. He understood the feeling completely, and really he couldn’t find any good reasons not to come out and at least tell the crew about them. Well, about the dating and living together part.

“I just don’t know if I’m ready-”

“How you boys doing?” Rhett and Link looked up to see the waitress, an older woman with curly hair and a kind face, standing next to their booth, a jug of coffee in her hand. He name tag read Darla. “More coffee for you, dear?”

“No, thank you, I’m good.”

“I’ll have some,” Rhett piped up with much more of a smile than his companion. He held up his half empty cup which the lady filled immediately.

“Here you go, sweetie. And uh, are you two together?” Link froze, but Rhett, without missing a beat, laid his fingers over his boyfriend’s nearby hand. He straightened up, sure and proud before answering.

“We are, actually.” The waitress blushed, slightly, and stifled a giggle.

“Well that’s nice, dear, but I was just wondering if I should put your breakfast on one tab or two.” Rhett��s face fell, embarrassed and a bit flustered. Link stepped in, but didn’t pull his hand away.

“One check will be fine,” he offered. As the waitress headed off to ring them up, Link gave Rhett a sly smirk. “You’re paying, by the way. I think you owe me one.” Still ashamed by his earlier behavior, Rhett didn’t have it in him to disagree.

Quietly he finished up his meal and was just setting down his now completely full mug as the waitress came back with the check. He was finding it hard to look her in the eye and kept his gaze down as he pulled out his wallet. Link tried not to look too smug as he watched Rhett’s discomfort.

“You boys look familiar. You live around here?” the waitress asked, trying to make conversation and release the tension. Unfortunately that just made the internetainers more nervous.

“Actually, uh-” Link began, but Darla interrupted and a look of recognition crossed her face.

“Oh, I know!” Rhett held his breath. “You’re those nice boys who bought the old Ackerman farm, up on route six.” The two men tried to not look too relieved and Rhett even managed a sincere smile.

“That would be us,” he confirmed. “Just bought the place a few weeks ago. Been fixing it up this weekend, actually.’

“That place used to be real nice. I remember playing in the fields as a little girl, though Farmer Ackerman didn’t know that.” Darla chuckled at the memory. “Oh it’s a fine place, lots of open space for little ones to run around.” She was still smiling as she went to run Rhett’s credit card, but neither Rhett nor Link could think of anything to say in response to that. Whether either of them had ever thought about children, they had never discussed it with each other.

It wasn’t until they were back in the car and driving to their quaint little home away from home for the last time this month, that Rhett brought up the subject himself.

“Do you…?” He tried to bring it up, that is. “I mean, you want, uh, kids… right? We never really… talked… about it so I just wondered…” Link felt his mouth had gone a bit dry, and he licked his lips subconsciously.

Well,” he began, “I guess I just always thought I’d have them someday. Didn’t you?” Rhett nodded. It was almost a staple of southern life. Grow up, get married, have kids. Of course he always wanted to do those things, either way, but then he hadn’t always been a werewolf.

“Sure, yeah. Little McLaughlin’s of my own? I thought it would be great, I just never…”

“Never what?”

“Well, being in love with you, and all… I wasn’t sure I’d ever have the opportunity.” Link moved his hand over to rest on Rhett’s leg, warm and comforting. He understood completely. “Do you think we ever will?”

“I… I don’t know, Rhett. If it was just us... the normal us... I’d be fully onboard. We could adopt two, maybe even three and be one big happy family… but…”

“But?” Link sighed.

“It’s different now. You know? We’re… well we’re… I don’t want to say we’re unfit parents but, as werewolves? Our lives don’t exactly make for a safe living environment for kids.” It was Rhett’s turn to sigh, but he nodded all the same. He was already worried about hurting someone, a friend, a family member… Link. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he ever hurt a child, let alone one of his own. It would destroy him.

“I guess you’re right.” Looking out the window, Rhett watched the roadside trees pass by, one after the other. He had been so certain this morning that things were slowly working themselves out. Link was getting better at maintaining his hybrid form, their work on the farmhouse was coming on nicely and their YouTube business was truly thriving. Now, as he slumped in the passenger side of their silver FJ cruiser, he realized that it just may be that something he always took for granted as being in his future, may never happen.

He never realized just how much having children of his own really meant to him.

Link was feeling much the same way. Even though he was trying to be practical, telling Rhett it would be dangerous for them to adopt children, he too had wanted them for a long time now. A few boys and girls to share his name and raise with his spouse, whomever that would be. A family, a real one like he had never had himself, growing up, but when every few weeks he and Rhett basically turned into ferocious beasts, he couldn’t risk it. Neither of them could. It wasn’t safe... for anyone. Being a werewolf, in his book, meant kids were probably never going to be an option.

As the two of them walked into the farmhouse that they had called home for the past few days, it didn’t seem to be as warm as before, nor as inviting. Neither spoke a word, heading off in different directions of the house - Rhett to the kitchen and Link upstairs - both feeling like there was much to say. Both feeling like there was nothing left to say. The building was quiet, and as Link sat down in one of the unfurnished bedrooms, he thought it sounded much too peaceful. Suddenly, the pleasant serenity of calm and quiet held no satisfaction for him. Suddenly all he wanted was to hear the patter of tiny feet, and the giggles of innocent youth.

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