#goddammit he looks fucking stunning

[burningtacozombie]

therealmariskahargitay: #TBT or #FBF To a couple weeks ago when I was in LA for @icet #Star on #HollywoodWalkOfFame SVU producing director @norbertobarba and I went to visit our beloved @eldannypino on the set of @mayansfx where he was directing. #ilovedannypino #DirectorsSupporting Directors #3Amigos #3Directors #SVUFamily #NickAmaro #Bensaro #FriendsForLife

X

[chatsukimi]

ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ

gojo satoru rarely takes his glasses off. in his own world of infinity, you suppose real life is somewhat boring.

you couldn't be more wrong.

you're sitting across from gojo, a jacuzzi separating you. he has dipped his feet into the pool of clear water, the ripples cascading to your legs. noticing them, he looks up.

the first thing he thinks is woah.

the sight of you in a bathing suit stuns him temporarily, his heart clattering faster. but he musters up a cocky smile before strolling forward, putting on his black sunglasses, imitating one of those old men in sunnies staring down at you.

"arrived early, did we?"

you hum, craning your head up. your hand finds his neck, pulling his lips onto yours with a smile.

"you got me." your fingers catch his lightless specs and pull them from his ears. "let me see you."

you don't know what you're doing to him right now. he chuckles, rubbing his nape with a hint of awkwardness, when all he wants to do is take you in right there. he's never been in a relationship before, so he doesn't know if he can check you out so freely.

"you miss me so much?" he teases, though on the inside he's screaming.

goddammit, why did you take his glasses? he forces his gaze on your face- breathtaking, yes, but hardly the only thing that's begging his attention. he tries to keep his stare minimal, yet his lips part unconsciously. he stares at the only partial alternative to satiating his want: your lips.

noticing your boyfriend's gaze, a devilish idea pops into your head.

after geto and shoko arrive, the four of you talk casually in the relaxing hot water. gojo resumes his usual cocky self. an hour or so passes before you decide to switch to the living room.

"gojo, do you know where's the bathroom? i wanna shower."

wet feet plopping in tow through the winding hallways, you feel his gaze boring into the back of your skull. but as you enter, he stops by the door. you turn around, feigning oblivious.

"can you grab me a towel?"

ever eager to please, gojo quickly strides down the hallway for a towel, while you strip and enter the shower. when he comes back, listening to the sound of water, he waits by the door.

"gojo, pass the towel," you call.

he's so glad you don't have the six eyes right now, because he can feel his cursed energy spiralling. "w-what?"

"i said, pass me the towel."

his eyes widen. hovering over the doorknob, he swallows his other thoughts, shuffling into the bathroom, one feet after another, gaze pasted onto the floor.

your hand comes out, waving as though you have no idea where he is. he shoves the object into your hand before you step out, towel wrapped around you. with that, he immediately turns to leave, but not before noticing the devious little smile on your lips, possibly from his reaction.

fuck him, he thinks.

suddenly fingers enclose on his wrist, his limitless shut off from the distraction.

"can you dry my hair?" you say, polite, and in that soft tone you know he can't say no to.

his hands stagger over your head, gripping another towel, drying this part then the next. clunky. he's never touched someone else much before, and it shows.

what entertains you most, however, is the way he's forcing his eyes on his hand and nowhere else, focusing like it's his lifetime.

"done," he mumbles.

at last, you look up at him. he's wearing an uncharacteristically stern face, clearly holding himself back.

you ask, "do you want to say something?"

fuck. him. he lets out a shallow breath. how could you stand there batting your lashes like nothing's wrong, when you're making his hands run over you, yet not in the way he wants to.

"you demon woman. you know what you're doing."

you appear to be pondering, too, what you might be thinking. one of your hands tap at his chest, the space above his heart.

"tell me. what am i doing?"

his hand holds yours, keeping it against him. "you're tempting me."

you tilt your head to the side and you swear, he chokes a little. "and who's holding back, hmmm?"

...

2 years later

"gojo satoru, where have you put my towel??" your voice screeches from the shower.

leaning beside the bathroom door, the most annoyingly handsome man croons, "i've got it right here."

"give it to me. right now."

he shakes his head to himself. you still haven't learnt your lesson, it seems. he saunters over to the shower with the fluffy white towel in his grip. your hand pokes out. he clicks his tongue.

"baby, come on out."

an automatic groan claws its way from your throat and he chuckles, finding part of your unspoken shyness endearing.

"it's nothing that i haven't seen before," he adds, as though that'll make it better.

you feel your cheeks grow hot even with the excess steam. you know if he wanted to, he could step right into the shower and join you, but satoru seems to be in a lighter mood today.

regardless, you don't anticipate the effortless way the towel encases you as you step out. he wraps the cloth around you with care, the motion simultaneously tugging you closer to him. you let out a small gasp in comfort. to that, he snickers quietly by your ear, which provokes a half scowl from you. you look like a bunny in that oversized thing.

you mutter under your breath, "how did i get stuck with you..?"

he hums in response. "you're just too lucky."

he uses another towel to dry your hair. a thought courses through your brain- it's not like it matters much, but gojo satoru is really good at what he does. once he has experience in something, it's like the talent in his body simply activates, and the smooth sensation on your scalp dissipates.

this time, however, he doesn't announce his completion. instead, he tugs you casually against his chest. his hand skilfully cups your jaw, holding your gaze against his.

it's unfair, how the sight of his blue eyes send a seering level of need into your system. your hands find his shoulders to steady yourself and the towel begins to fall.

"wanna see you," he says, his stare roaming over you, unabashedly ravenous.

and finally, with experience, he does.

[sp0o0kylights]

Adopt a Jock Part 1 

Part 2 

Part 4

Shoutout to @bloomingconflagration for the title!!! And a HUGE thank you to everyone who left comments or gave suggestions!! I love you all you amazing, silly humans <3 <3 

There comes a time during a long work shift were your average overworked and underpaid employee starts to think they’re hallucinating. 

In Gareth’s case, it was when Steve Harrington walked through the doors of Palace Arcade, making a beeline right for him. 

“Gareth?” Steve asked, like he was the one out of place. “What are you doing here?” 

As if people just randomly stood behind the counter of retail and entertainment spaces with a nametag on. 

You know, for fun.

With a great deal of restraint, Gareth managed to hold the sass back, instead opting for a far more polite; ‘I work here, Harrington. What are you doing here?” 

Because no matter how much Hellfire had adopted Steve into its fold, Gareth could just not see the guy choosing to spend his free time at the local arcade. 

Not of his own free will, anyway. 

“Pick up duty.” Steve said, proving him right not even a second later. 

“Of what?” Gareth asked, puzzled, right before Steve’s name was shouted in stereo.

A miniature stampede took place as several children proceeded to swarm him like oversized puppies, most of them trying to talk at once. 

“One at a time, we talked about this!” Steve barked, loud enough to be heard over the commotion. “You’re giving me and Gareth here a headache!” 

He waved his hands in a “calm down” gesture, shaking his head and looking at Gareth in exasperation. “Probably giving the people in the video store next door one too, lord.”  

“Wait.” A curly-haired kid said, looking between the two older teens like he was watching the laws of the universe rewrite themselves in front of him. “You know Gary? How?”

“We are not close enough for you to call me Gary.” Gareth said dryly, for what felt like the fifteenth time that day. 

This was a regular battle between him and the kids who haunted the arcade.

(One had overheard Grant call him Gary the last time he was in, and ever since, every single child that graced this fine establishment with Cheeto-dusted fingers and candy-induced sugar rushes had decided to replace his actual name with his nickname.

The fact it clearly frustrated him only egged them on. )

“We go to school together Dustin,” Steve said, as if he were talking to someone particularly dense. 

“Yeah? You go to school with lots of people. You bitch about most of them.” Dustin fired back.”Plus Gary’s a total nerd. I bet you call him names.” 

"Hey, language!" 

Gareth’s eyes narrowed as he glared down at the little fucker. He was definitely going to remember Dustin (and equally going to watch and see what arcade games the younger teen played-- and top the score chart of every single fucking one.

He might be a nerd but he wasn’t gonna take that shit from a middle schooler.) 

“Hate to break it to you brats, but your babysitter here just joined our D&D club.” Gareth replied, if only to finally one-up the little bastards. “Our DM is building him a character as we speak.” 

(Which wasn't even a lie. Eddie was building a character for Steve. The guy just refused to give any input on grounds that he "wasn't going to play anyways." )

Abrupt and sudden silence, as several stunned faces stared at him. 

“Oh goddammit.” Harrington cursed, as the entire herd of children turned on him in unison like some kind of hivemind horror monster. 

“You joined the D&D club,” Dustin said slowly, outraged. “And you let them make you a character sheet, but you won’t play with us!?” 

“What the hell Steve!” The sporty-looking one whined, clearly hurt. “You won’t sit in on our games! You said they were lame!” 

“They are lame.” Steve defended immediately, pushing at sporty-kids head. It was fond though, the kind of gentle shove an elder brother gave to a younger one. It caused the kid's camo banana to fall into his eyes, which he adjusted quickly with a grumble. “Turns out the high school version’s cooler.” 

“He’s lying.” That from the bitchy one, whose arms were crossed over his chest, a glare on his face. “Steve probably paid Gary to say that” 

Gareth had seen that exact same stance on Steve at lunch that day, and wondered if the little asshole knew who he was copying when he did it. 

“Who cares about D&D?” This from the redhead, standing with another girl giggling in her ear. “I’m just amazed Steve has friends.” 

“Really Mayfield?” Steve said, looking almost betrayed. As if he thought she was going to be the one to defend him in this weird little showdown.

The girl leaning on her giggled harder, making Mayfield grin (even if she tried to hide it.)  She whispered something, which the redhead outright laughed at before repeating; “Adult friends even!” 

“Okay.” Steve said, clearly cutting the kids off before they could embarrass him further. “Thank you, unwanted peanut gallery, for all of that lovely commentary. Now go back to playing the games you little shits robbed me of all my quarters for, or we’re leaving.” 

Henderson’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you were here to pick us up?” 

“Oh I’m sorry, did Jonathan magically appear behind me in the last five seconds?” Steve turned around pretending to search the parking lot through the windows. “No? Then I guess we’re still waiting. Unless you, Lucas and Max want to leave first.” 

“You’re such an ass.” Dustin huffed, rolling his eyes. “Why aren’t you waiting in the car anyway?” 

“It’s raining, it’s cold, and I thought I’d come in to say hi to my friend.” Steve replied, so quickly it took Gareth a moment to realize what Steve referred to him as. 

He'd gotten the friend title before Eddie. 

His best friend was going to fucking freak. 

“Are you done drilling me or are you going to let Max kick your ass at DigDug again?” 

“Shit!” Henderson cursed, spinning to intercept the redhead as she bent to put a coin in said arcade machine. “Max, you said you’d let me keep my leaderboard score today! Max!” 

“I know you said you watched kids, but this wasn’t exactly what I was imagining.” Gareth said, slumping against the counter.  

(He'd been thinking of Steve watching much younger kids for one, and two, he was starting to get the idea the babysitter thing was used as an insult. 

Gareth knew a big brother vibe when he saw it.) 

Steve gave him a tired look. “Me neither man. Me neither.”

 Then; “You fucking owe me for that D&D comment, they’re never going to shut up about it now.”

Gareth winced. “Sorry. I was trying to help.” 

Steve blew out a breath. “I know. I appreciate the attempt.” 

Which was better than Steve bitching at him for it, not that he’d really ever done that to Gareth. 

The two of them hadn’t quite worked up the nerve to be playful like that with each other, though they had occasionally jumped in on opposing sides to arguments Eddie caused. Gareth figured they’d get there in time, but even with all the progress Steve made, he still had more off days than on. 

It was a fragile line to walk with him. Especially when there wasn’t a single member of Hellfire who wanted to ruin the progress they made. 

(Even if half of them would never admit to it.) 

“Steve?” A voice interrupted, quiet in a way that contrasted directly with how loud the rest of the brat pack was. 

Steve closed his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose with his hand as if to starve off a headache. 

“Yes, Baby Byers?” He asked after a long, painful pause, turning to look at the saddest looking kid in the bunch. 

“Is there actually a D&D club at the high school?” 

The kid looked at Steve like he wasn’t entirely certain he wanted to hear the answer, but was hopeful for the outcome he wanted anyway. 

It was the kind of thing that pulled even on Gareth’s heartstrings, and he was almost immune to anything involving giant, sad eyes after a solid year of working at the arcade. 

(Never mind Eddie’s own puppy dog looks.)

Steve’s voice gentled, in a way Gareth had never quite heard him use before. “There is. You’d love it, it’s called Hellfire. I’m sure it’ll still be there next year when you come in as a freshman.” 

He nudged him with his shoulder playfully, smiling when the younger boy perked up. “If you’re nice, Garebear here might even put in a good word for you.” 

“Garebear?” Max repeated with a burst of laughter, appearing behind Steve like a fucking ghost. “Oh my god.” 

“No.” Gareth said, bolting upright from his slouch as he stared at her in horror. “Do not call me that.” 

“Sure thing, Garebear.” She outright cackled, as Steve sent him a wide-eyed, apologetic face. 

“What did you just call Gary?” The sporty one--Lucas, asked, a wide grin overtaking his face. 

“I swear to God.” Gareth threatened, as Steve took another dramatic look over his shoulder. 

“Hey look Jonathan’s here!” He yelled, jerking a thumb over his shoulder as he started quickly walking backwards. “Come on, dipshits, we're leaving!” 

“Bye Garebear!” Lucas and Max sang together, following after him. 

“Harrington!” Gareth howled, as Steve mouthed ‘Sorry’ over his shoulder, all but bolting out the door. 

“I like Garebear a lot better than Gary.” Another, random child informed him with a grin as he sauntered past, arcade tickets in hand. 

Steve Harrington, Gareth decided, was a dead man. 

Not even Eddie’s fucking crush on the guy could save him now. 

xXx

“Did you know Harrington has a literal pack of kids he watches?” Gareth asked a few hours later, messing with his drum kit as he set up for band practice. "He even drives them around." 

More than that though--he’d seemed almost normal around them. That was the most Gareth had seen the guy banter or act relaxed since Eddie had dragged him over. 

“He’s mentioned it multiple times.” Grant replied, tuning his bass. “You have ears Gareth, use them.” 

“Gareth? Listen?” Jeff teased as he dragged an amp into the garage. “I don’t think I’ll live to see the day.” 

"Oh screw you guys.” Gareth growled, winging a drumstick toward his friends for the insult.

Grant, long used to Gareth's tantrums (and Eddie's dramatics)  didn't look up from his bass.

Not even when the drumstick hit the wall with a bang!-- allll the way near the opposite end of the couch, entirely opposite of either him or Jeff. 

"As usual, your aim is dead on." Jeff appraised sarcastically. 

"Like I'd ever actually hit you." Gareth grumbled with a pout. "I was gonna say the kids are older than I expected."

He reached down, blindly fishing for another drumstick from the bucket of them next to his kit. 

He came up empty. 

"Hey Grantman." Gareth asked, tone changing to something mildly embarrassed. "Could I uh, could I get the drumstick back?" 

He got a flat stare back. "No." 

"What did I do to get stuck with such dramatic friends?" Jeff joked as he began moving all the amps he’d pulled in back into their usual places. 

They hadn't had time to unload anything other than the drums after their last show and the regret was real. 

"Eddie’s been standing on tables since seventh grade, you knew what you were getting into." Gareth fired back, making grabby hands for his drumstick. 

"And you never grew out of being that dorky middle schooler who snuck into Hellfire games and screamed we were all going to die every time anyone made a bad play." Jeff shot back. "Yet here I am, once again wondering if I should just permanently confiscate Eddie's snacks, your drumsticks, and now Harrington's fricken spatula." 

"One year. I am one year younger than you and you act like it's an entire century!" Gareth muttered, as Grant relented and leaned over to fetch said drumstick. 

"We all know Eddie chucks food at people, but what'd Steve do with a spatula?"  Grant asked as he tossed it back to Gareth.

He missed and nearly took out a cymbal in the process. 

"He had a snit while we were making chocolate roulade cause it wouldn’t roll right. Flung the spatula around so much it splattered whip cream on his ceiling." Jeff shook his head as he finished hooking an amp up to his guitar. "I had to rescue it from him." 

"His ceiling?" Gareth said in disbelief. "Wait, you were in Harrington’s kitchen?" 

"Yeah?" Jeff looked up to find his friends staring at him. 

Grant blinked. "The fuck?" 

“Can we just play?” Jeff complained, just as embarrassed as Gareth had been.

“No.” Gareth said, retrieved drumstick nearly falling from his hands in shock. “You don’t get to casually drop that you went to Harrington’s house to help him bake and then try to get us to play right after!” 

Jeff, who had done exactly that, blushed, skin darkening as he fiddled with his guitar.

“It wasn’t a big deal.” He said finally with a shrug, as if this was something he did all the time and not the groundbreaking revelation that it was.

“Did you meet his parents?” Grant said, sitting up from the couch. “What did his house look like?”

Jeff finally gave up the pretense of playing his instrument.

“I didn't, and it was kinda sad, actually.” He said, as if he didn’t live for this kind of shit. 

Gareth knew better than anyone how much of a fricken gossip Jeff could be. 

“His house was enormous. I only saw the first floor, and his kitchen is huge.” He set his hands apart at a good distance, showcasing just how large “huge” was, before continuing. 

“But it was weird. It was like a model home. No pictures on the walls, no art, no personality to the place at all.” 

“What are we talking about?” Eddie asked, finally returning to Gareth’s garage from where he’d been gathering up all the wires they’d thrown haphazardly into his van. 

“Jeff went to Harrington’s house.” Grant and Gareth tattled as one. 

“To help bake stuff for this Friday!” Jeff defended, the blush creeping back onto his face. “I was curious about his chocolate roulade recipe and he invited me over!” 

“When was this?” Eddie asked, staring at Jeff like he’d grown a second head. 

Or more likely, Gareth knew, in jealousy. But he wasn’t going to call Eddie out on that just yet. 

“Yesterday. We got to talking about it in the parking lot after school.” Jeff said with an embarrassed shrug. “He said he wasn’t the best at explaining how to do things and that he’d rather show me instead.” 

“Kinky.” Grant deadpanned, making Jeff sputter. 

“You sure you didn’t see his bedroom, Jeff? It’s okay if you fell for the ‘wanna see my music collection’ line. We won’t judge you.” Gareth waggled his eyebrows, ducking with a laugh when Jeff went to whack him. 

“Shut up, we just made the chocolate roulade!” Jeff’s ears were red now, and huh, maybe Eddie wasn’t the only person with a crush.  

“Guys.” Eddie reprimanded, tone warning. 

“Sorry Eds, you know we don’t mean it.” Gareth soothed. Of course, his best friend's anger was less about the gay comments or Steve’s reputation as Hawkin’s man whore than it was about Steve fucking Jeff (and not Eddie) but he had a feeling it wouldn’t be appreciated if he pointed that out either. 

Eddie didn’t respond, eyes already back on Jeff. "Details, Jeffery, give us the details!"  

He dropped onto the couch, flapping his hands at Jeff in his version of a "sit down" gesture. 

Jeff sighed, but repeated what he'd just said for Eddie as he took a seat on the edge of an amp, placing his guitar down gently. 

 "I think Wayne was right. I don't think anyone else lives there but Steve. Not full-time anyway." He finished. 

Which sounded like the best fucking thing ever until Gareth thought about it for more than two seconds. 

Tried to imagine what his life would be like if his parents and siblings were gone. Not for a day, or even a weekend, but always. 

How silent his normally loud house would be. 

Thought instantly that he'd be inviting Eddie, his friends, and hell, l even Wayne, over as often as they could handle. 

"The way he looked when I showed up, and how quiet he got when I left I just…" Jeff fiddled with his guitar’s strap. "I think he's lonely." 

The four of them sat in silence for a long moment as they digested that. 

“Hargrove kicked his ass right? And Byers?” Grant said finally, breaking the silence ad he stared up at the ceiling. 

“Old news.” Eddie replied absently, jiggling his leg.

“You think his parents were around for that?” Grant continued, slowly.

No one answered outside of Eddie's leg loudly jiggling faster. 

 "Did you see the kids hug him or anything?"

"They're like thirteen. I seriously doubt they're pestering Steve for hugs." Gareth answered flatly.  

 "So he got his ass kicked, his parents are gone, he was supposed involved in that whole has leak thing…" Grant trailed off with an air of someone who expected the end of his sentence to be obvious. 

“You’re doing that thing again where you think what you’re saying is obvious and its fucking not.” Eddie grumped. "Just spit it out." 

His friend's head finally tipped back down from the ceiling, to face the rest of them. “Maybe the flinching is because no one ever touches him anymore unless it’s to kick his ass.” 

“Oh.” Eddie blinked, body going rigid. “Oh shit.” 

“That…would make sense. A lot of sense.” Jeff said slowly. 

Grant put on a face that read “Duh” loud and clear. 

“So what do we do about it?" Gareth asked after a moment. 

"Touch him, obviously." Grant replied, like he couldn't believe the drummer was even asking.

Gareth and Eddie shared a look while Eddie rolled his eyes.  

"The guy almost fell down the stairs last time I tried that." Gareth pointed out. 

Never mind any other time Steve got weird over the lightest of touches. Eddie couldn't even clap the guy on the shoulder without getting major side-eye. 

"No."  Eddie cut in, sitting up suddenly. His eyes had gone bright, "We're going to trick him into it." 

"We're going to trick Harrington into being okay with, what? Shoulder pats?"  Gareth echoed, like Eddie might hear himself if his words were repeated back to him. “You realize how stupid that sounds right?" 

"Shut up, listen. It's like getting a stray to trust you. You just gotta be calm and so obvious about it that they get confused and let it happen." Eddie had begun practically vibrating, causing his friends to trade uneasy glances. 

They knew that look. Eddie only got it when he thought up a plan that was going to cause problems. 

"Eddie, that makes zero sense." Jeff told him.

Gareth just shook his head, because only Eddie Munson could compare Hawkins golden boy with a fucking stray animal. 

Even if the guy kinda acted like one sometimes. 

"I just need an opening." Eddie continued, the little hamster wheel spinning in his head so fast the rest of the band could almost hear it. 

If Gareth had been told two months ago he was going to be sitting in his garage, discussing the best way to acclimate Steve Harrington to casual touch, he’d have actually smacked whatever idiot dared spew such nonsense with his drumsticks. 

"I did tell tell the kids today you were making him a D&D character." He said, before his best friend could truly go off on some half cocked plot. 

Eddie lit up like a kid on Christmas. "Gary, I could kiss you."

Gareth made a face. "Please don't."

He clapped hard before springing to his feet. "Huddle up boys, I've got a plan." 

"God help us all." Jeff muttered. 

(He huddled up anyway, any thoughts of playing guitar that night fully forgotten.) 

Bonus: 

"Why don't you just get high and watch a movie with Steve? You're a fucking cling-on when you're high." Gareth complained the next morning, when Eddie swung by to pick him up for school. 

Mostly because the plan Eddie had come up with was ridiculous.

 Eddie took both hands off the wheel, pressing them against his chest in mock offense while he stared at Gareth and not at the street. “That would be taking advantage of him and I, as a gentleman, would never." He gasped, dramatically. 

In his normal voice, he added: "Plus it doesn't count." 

“Eyes on the road!” Gareth yelped, swatting an arm. “And you know I didn’t mean it like that. People relax more when they're high and maybe Steve needs something like that as an excuse to allow it. Hell he doesn’t even need to be high, just you.”

Which Gareth personally thought was a very insightful thing to say, so of course he had to ruin it with; “or whatever.” 

"Do you recall how you kissed Jeff on the cheek when you were high and then spent the entire next month swearing up and down that you weren't attracted to men last summer?" 

"That was different. I was discovering myself." 

Eddie outright cackled. "Discovering yourself? What self help book did you pick that gem out of?"

"I was quoting you, you moron!" Gareth sputtered. 

"If I said anything like that then I was definitely high and it just proves my point. Steve would just be uncomfortable."Eddie stuck his tongue out. "So there." 

"Fine." Gareth sighed. "If we ever get high with Harrington, I'll sit in his lap."

Eddie's eye twitched. "No you will not."

Thrilled to have something to tease the elder metalhead about, a smile graced Gareth's face. "In fact, I'm calling dibs." 

"You can't call dibs on a lap! And besides, you don't even like him like that!" 

"So?" Gareth retorted. "It's a nice lap, looks comfortable. You don't want it, so I'll take it."

Eddie grit his teeth, grasping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles went white. 

"I know what you're doing Gary. This is some bullshit reverse psychology shit and I will not be falling for it." 

"Oh contraire, this is sibling bullshit, Munson. You want it, so I want it." Gareth crossed his arms and looked at Eddie smugly. "And unless you do something about it, I'm getting it." 

"I hate you." 

Gareth grinned, delighted. "I know." 

[vtomleni]

I feel really bad for girl Jeri. Call me low on reading comprehension/media literacy or whatever, but like. If she got pregnant young (maybe even teenager) and was hiding it, she wouldn't go for any medical help, nor would boy Jerry... which means that she gave birth without any anesthesia and medical help!! It must've been fucking awful, horrid, painful and overall traumatising experience.

Also, like, the way she starts to sob whether sex and pregnancy mentioned, the way she screams "Stephanie! No!!" when Steph and Pete about to have sex. She warns Steph, not Steph and Pete, she specifically tries to stop the girl from having sex. The way she says "Teen pregnancy is not a joke! [...] You're gonna end up with the child before you're ready! You will have to dropout of school! Your parents will disown you!" and looks dead serious, sad, and...idk worried, rueful, remorseful. And, i think, the most obvious one, "where you will raise the child? In the woods?!" She's clearly projecting onto Steph. Jeri associating sex with pregnancy and pregnancy with da baby and it's murders. It's a chain of associations and literally almost every link is traumatizing to her. She feels responsible for her son's murders (because she does enable him), she is the one to try calling into police, she is the one who doesn't want to lie to child's parents, and she has to be coerced, lied and threatened into cooperation by boy Jerry. She, not surprisingly, got sexual trauma from these events, she even responds to sexual advances of a guy that blackmailing her and degrading her! (I'm not saying that ppl cannot have these kind of kinks without trauma, but it's not talked-about-before-consensual kink here, she's stunned and overwhelmed by discovering bodies, feeling guilty for hiding bodies, feeling horny and feeling guilty and ashamed for feeling horny to truly process and being able to consent to things.)

By the way, the fact that boy Jerry doesn't give shit about her also makes me feel bad for her. Like, he very clearly projecting and tells his own thoughts and feelings when "scolding" Pete, so that means that he feels jealous over, and is sexually attracted to Jeri, but looking at Jerry's actions he doesn't respect or trust Jeri, he threatens and blackmails her, he constantly takes control of the situation and assumes that she will obey him, simply put - he's awful to her. And something i noticed when listening to "Hatchet town" from Npmd on repeat is that there's line when citizens accuse boy Jerry and he LITERALLY says "no! it's girl Jeri! that dirty girl!" and like, that could be written in just for a joke but in character it would render boy Jerry as a fucking traitor and a coward. Not too surprising considering all that he does in abstinence camp, but goddammit, he is despicable.

I'm not saying that what she done is okay or morality right, but i empathise with her, like she literally GAVE BIRTH IN THE GODDAMN WOODS.

[madelynraemunson]

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club series)

strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!reader

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ MDNI

Chapter 016: 86 It, Baby

When they find out about you and Eddie, his cult following of jealous dancers team up to make your life a living hell. How much of it will you be able to tolerate? And how much of it will Eddie actually allow?

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014** , 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020*

* = somewhat smutty chapters ** = smut chapters

word count: 8.1k words

disclaimers — fluff, smut, angst, oral (fem-receiving), pussy worship, office roleplay, fingering, boyfriend!eddie 😍 • bullying, body dysmorphia, body shaming, humiliation, sabotage, profanities, spreading rumors, billy being a narcissistic fuck again

(x)

Chapter 015 recap

"You sure you want to sign up for all of this?"

• • •

From here on out, it's going to be Shy Girl and Eddie... and nothing... NOTHING will ever change your mind or get in the way of that.

“Sugarcoated lies unfolded…”

Chapter 016

♡

“OUT OF THE FUCKING WAY!” Dustin shrieks.

“CORNER!” Mike hollers. “Hot plates coming through!”

“Shit shit shit shit!” This is the third order Lucas has messed up. “Argyle’s gonna kill me. Where the fuck is Eddie?!”

It’s Hellfire’s busiest Tuesday and the owner is nowhere in sight. And neither are you — Hellfire’s number one dancer.

Surely that has to be a coincidence. Because the last thing on your mind while everyone is going crazy looking for Eddie is going crazy in his office, your legs spread out on his desk while riding his tongue, his mouth and fingers penetrating your sensitive clit with calculated strokes and thirst-quenched laps, Eddie’s eyes rolling to the back of his head as he prowls for your release, the remnants of it trickling down the wooden table and soaking all of his nearby paperwork.

…Right?

“Have you seen Eddie?” Nancy demands as she waves her dead curling iron in the air.

“No!”

“Will…have you seen Eddie?” Jonathan asks.

“No!”

Argyle isn’t having any better of a day.

“Ayo, who THE FUCK keeps ringing in the Eddie Special?! We 86’d it an hour ago cuz we’re out of thousand island!”

The frazzled cook shifts his focus back to the grill, wiping sweat away from his forehead in exhaustion. He then bolts to the fryer, ignoring the mountain of tickets piling up on the line.

A few muffled curse words escape his mouth. Goddammit Eddie. Where is that fucker?!

“Eddie?!” Dustin calls out as he’s directed to voicemail.

“Eddie!” Chrissy attempts.

“Eddie?!”

“Eddie!”

“EDDIE!” you moan. “Oh, fuck. Eddie…”

“Thought I told you to call me sir.”

Eddie’s lips hum against the ones between your legs as he devours you, tip of his tongue flicking across your folds before circling inwards, licking…sucking…moaning and spitting as he reels you in for a delicious rotation of all possible combinations.

“My sweet, sweet secretary,” Eddie playfully swoons. “They’re gonna have to wait baby, you taste so good.”

It should come as no surprise that a Dungeon Master like Eddie is obsessed with role-play. Yet it stuns you like it’s the first time, watching him devour you like a starved man in the wild, the heels of his palms anchoring you to his desk by how they hook your thighs in place.

“Love the skirt you wore just for me,” Eddie blubbers. The easy access just does something to him. And the way it hugs your body... Eddie is practically scraping his knees on the floor trying to make you feel good. “Love your sweet pussy. Love everything about you…”

“Ohhh…fuck…” you mewl as the echos of your wet cunt filter the air around you. “Yes, Eddie…”

“You my naughty little secretary?”

“Yes, sir…”

Eddie hums again while you toss your head back, bliss-filled and fucked out, squirming underneath him as your ankles dangle limply at his shoulders. Your pornographic moans that bleed into desperate squeals cause Eddie to subconsciously buck his hips and thrust, eagerly sinking his mouth further into you as he sucks harder on your clit. And just before he can pull down his pants to pound you senseless around his office, another type of pounding awaits for you two at the door.

“EDDIE OPEN THE FUCK UP!” Henderson screeches as he knocks. “Our ass is grass out there, what are you doing?!”

Eddie sighs in anguish, irritibably looking over at the ruckus waiting for him on the other side of that door. "I'll be right back, babe.”

You use this time away from Eddie to gather yourself and your belongings. Since you had been folded up for a while, your legs wobble like jelly when they meet the floor.

You’re a little bummed that you two didn’t meet your goal of Orgasm #5 of the day, but you’re content in knowing that there is always an opportunity to later in the night.

The door swings open abruptly causing you to jolt. Eddie’s back.

“Shy Girl,” he huffs.

“Eds,” you respond.

“I never thought these words would ever come out of my mouth,” Eddie warns you. “But please put your clothes on.”

“Huh?!”

Eddie fills you in on the shitshow that is taking place outside. Hellfire is in desperate need of an extra server, and you are the only one with qualifications that can do it. But as much as you want to help, you are reluctant. It is a huge pay cut on your end if you took that deal.

“I make way more stripping than serving, Eddie,” you frown. “I need to pay the bills.”

“I can give you a cash advance,” Eddie bargains. “A-and even all my tips from the tip-out tonight. We just really need someone, baby. Just this one time, please. Only for today.”

Your man starts towards you with a flirtatious demeanor now, swooping in to grab your hips that he adores oh so much. You bite your lips, trying your best not to cave.

“And…” he lowers his voice huskily. “I’ll be sure to have another kind of tip waiting for you at home…”

You giggle into his chest, laughing at the clever pun that he had up his sleeve. And because he’s so charismatic and convincing, you take him up on the offer.

“Okay, fine,” you agree. “Just this one day.”

When you’re fully clothed again, Eddie hands you a Hellfire baseball tee and apron for you to wear as you switch from dancer to waitress. And after one final look at yourself, you reach to turn the knob of Eddie’s office door to go outside. Someone is already waiting by the foot of it when you pull it open.

Henderson.

Confused, Dustin looks at you. You look at Dustin. Dustin’s eyes wander over to Eddie whose got the most devious smirk on his face. Finally Henderson looks back over at you and sighs, issuing you a “do I even want to know?” type stare.

You clear your throat, attempting to brush off the awkwardness that just took over.

“Well…we going out there or not?”

“Hey. Look over there.”

Your ability to take up space in more forms than one inevitably catches the attention of the other dancers. Justice and Emmy in particular. The two watch as you strut around Hellfire with the club t-shirt on instead of the Nothing that they’re used to, ordering the younger gentlemen of Hellfire around like you were the shift lead.

“Lucas stay back here and help Argyle cook the food,” you instruct. “I will run it out. Mike, you start bussing and sweeping so the area looks nice. Dustin, I need you to make set-ups. Will, I need you up front as host and cashier. Someone needs to be at the front at all times. When everything is less crazy, we can all assume our usual positions. Right now it’s just DAMAGE CONTROL.”

Hellfire is not like a standard sit-down restaurant... for obvious reasons. However, the foundation remains the same. Everyone has a lane. They need to stay in it.

The boys are more than receptive to your instructions and follow through almost immediately. Eddie observes as it all goes down. He beams at you in awe, fantasizing about the situation because it's all his mind knows when it comes down to you.

“It’s like she’s leading them into battle…" he sighs breathlessly. "She’s so hot.”

“HOT!” Argyle screams as he dishes an appetizer onto the line. “Someone throw some chives on there for me, yeah?”

Just when you're about to crash, Steve and Max make their way inside the club, clearly worn out from their shift at Newby's, and stunned by the turnout for Hellfire at the beginning of the week.

“Holy shit, why are men so horny on a Tuesday?” Max exclaims.

She hands you your coffee that she made for you herself.

“This drink’s called The Pollywog. Dark and earthy, should do the trick.”

“Coffee does for me what crack cocaine would do for others,” you remark. “Thanks sis, I owe you.”

You pan your gaze over to Steve, because you know that he and Max usually like to order food and sit around for a bit before he drives her home.

“Uh, just two waters,” Steve mutters. “Max and I will order when you guys are less slammed.”

You smile at him, resting a grateful hand atop his shoulder. “‘ppreciate it, Stevie.”

The strippers eye you. Again, intently. You’re close with his roommate too? Little do they know you were also fucking his roommate for a short period of time.

This goes deeper than any of them thought. You and Eddie must be exclusive. And to them, it seems like you’re getting special treatment, fucking your way up to the top like a certain woman once did.

“Looks like we might have another Isabelle on our hands.”

“Look at her walking around like she owns the place.”

“She thinks she can take over Hellfire because she’s fucking Eddie huh?”

“I mean why wouldn’t she? She’s also friends with Chrissy. Birds of a feather.”

𓆩♡𓆪

It feels like you’re submerged underwater judging by the increase of pressure in the room.

The dressing room is eerily quiet. Everyone is whispering instead of the usual singing and shouting. Your intuition senses that people are staring... almost in a way that makes you feel like an art display, or that you have food in your teeth. The only ones who are still acting normal are Chrissy and Nina, while the girls you usually joke around with at their respective vanities have gone radio silent.

Just then, there's a knock on the door.

“Hi my beautiful girls,” Eddie coos as he makes his way into the dressing room.

He keeps his eyes covered until everyone says it’s okay.

“Quite the lunch shift huh?”

“You have no idea, Eds,” Nina sighs. "But it sure as hell paid off."

"Yeah, Eddie," Chrissy agrees. "We all got tipped so well, your tip-out is probably astounding too!"

Speaking of which...

"Just what I came here for," Eddie points a finger gun at you before unveiling to you a huge wad of cash. “Here are my lunch tips, like I promised.” You reluctantly take it from Eddie as he ruffles your hair endearingly.

Eddie's first mistake was not only making you the center of attention, but giving his tips to you — on top of the tips you already had from serving — in front of the other girls. In a way, those were their tips. They only became his, well, yours now, because of the tip-out policy.

Now they're really annoyed. The girls who have you on their radar wait until Eddie leaves to approach you. And when they do you're almost taken aback.

“You’re starting to do a lot of the positions,” Emmy observes.

"Uh, yeah from time to time," you respond gently. "Today Eddie really needed an extra server on the floor so I jumped ship to help the boys."

“Must be a natural at taking charge.”

"Oh…I'm hardly ever a dom," you try to laugh it off. "If I am it's usually just for show. I'm more of a soft dom and sub if you ask me."

"Just for show, I see," that's all Emmy seems to get from what you said.

"I'm sorry... did I step on some toes here?" you question her. She's almost shocked at how ballsy you are. But then again, she doesn't know you. "Because you seem pretty fed up with me today, Emmy."

“We’re just really protective of our Eddie,” she replies dryly. "That's all."

“Girl, trust I don’t want any trouble,” you try to sound confident but your voice fails you. Why would you say that? You shouldn't say that, you're his girlfriend. They should be the ones treading lightly.

“Oh we would hope so too,” Emmy glares. “Cause we’re watching.”

And just like that, the girls you thought you were on good terms with strut back outside in a single file line, their icy stares fixed on you until they are out of sight.

The atmosphere feels arctic now. Eerie. Unwelcome. It's like the remnants of Isabelle Munson still linger after all.

“The hell what that all about?” Nina questions when she walks over to you.

“It’s a looong story,” you huff.

STRIKE ONE

"And then Emmy says to me, wE'rE jUsT rEaLlY pRoTeCtIvE oF eDdIe AnD wE'rE wAtChInG yOu da-da-da."

You stop your frantic pacing to plop onto Eddie's bed in exhaustion.

"Nina and I were just standing there like... the fuck?" you continue. "WHAT is this bitch's deal?"

Eddie chuckles at your recap of the events from the day before, lazily strumming along to a Metallica song he's learning on the guitar. You're displeased with your man's lack of concern for the issue at hand.

You shoot back up quickly.

"Matter of fact, what’s everyone's deal?" you demand. "They were all chill and nice to me when I started Hellfire but the SECOND they found out we're seeing each other it's like I'm their mortal enemy. And for what? It’s not like any of them stood a chance with you anyway. Thirsty ass bitches.”

"OH!" Steve hollers from the living room, causing you and Eddie to flinch. "TOUCHDOWN TAYLOR! Wooo hooo! That's what I'm talkin' bout baby."

Eddie puts his guitar down and starts towards you, realizing now how much this has taken a toll on your mental. He also closes his bedroom door all the way, allowing for privacy between you and him, and Steve with his precious Colts game.

"I'm really sorry the girls made you feel that way," he sighs. "It's just been a while since I have been exclusive with somebody. They know how badly Isabelle broke my heart. And well, ruined my life.”

You scoff, looking away. Eddie is there to ground you once more, placing his index and middle finger on your chin, using them to redirect you back to his reassuring gaze.

“They're just looking out for me,” he assures you. “Promise."

"They thought I was gonna be another Isabelle," you pout. "That's really offensive, you know."

"They said that with Chrissy too when she was new," Eddie recalls. "I mean…You should've SEEN the amount of drama that unfolded whenever she and I would even breathe the same air. You would've thought at one point, they were gonna chop her head off and parade it on a wooden stake like in Lord of the Flies."

You fold your arms irritably.

"This isn't Lord of the Flies, Eddie. This is real life."

"Lord of the Flies is also real life. In a way."

“Not sure which side of the battle you're on here, babe.”

Eddie then goes onto explain that Chrissy also faced the wrath of Eddie's OG dancers. But after the Hellfire Girls realized that Chrissy was not going to be a threat, they backed down.

Every explanation earns him an eye roll. Eddie needs to realize that being seen as a threat should never be an excuse to be mean to someone. Especially since those girls have been buddy-buddy with you before.

"Strip clubs can be... very catty," Eddie concludes. "The longer you work in the industry the more you'll realize. Take it with a grain of salt, okay baby? All that matters is us."

You don't budge. A part of you still feels discredited, despite kind of seeing where Eddie is coming from. Unless this worsens, he can’t 100% take your side. Eddie needs to be mediator for now.

He scratches his head.

“I also…need… my dancers,” Eddie points out. “So from a manager-slash-owner standpoint, there isn’t much I can do about Mean Girl shit other than keep it under my radar. But you’re a Hargrove, honey. You hold your ground, get your check, fight some chicks outside the club if you have to…”

You giggle at the last part. Eddie reels you in.

“…and then come home to me.”

And then he flashes you the Munson smile, that ever-so-charming million-dollar attribute that won your heart in the first place. It all causes you to blush.

"Okay," you say.

Before you two could swallow each other whole, Steve knocks on the door. Eddie pulls it open.

“I’m ordering pizza, any of you guys want some?” Steve questions. “Hope you don’t mind pineapple.”

Eddie grimaces. “You’re fucking disgusting. Make half of it a Meat Lovers and I’ll pay for it.”

“Fine,” Harrington huffs. His eyes travel over to you longingly. “Hargrove? You okay with pineapple?”

“I’m okay with whatever,” you mutter. “Anything’s better than a can of worms.”

Steve's eyes peer over at you then over at Eddie. He doesn't quite understand your analogy, but still seems supportive of you nonetheless.

“Okay…” Harrington mumbles before closing the door. “Pineapple and Meat Lovers it is.”

𓆩♡𓆪

It all makes sense why you ate most of Steve's pizza instead of him a couple days ago. You were clearly PMS-ing, and today you started your period.

At least now you know the Plan B you took was effective.

As grateful as you were, you're still having an awful time 'surfing the crimson wave'. Mood swings were also at an all-time high. Anything anyone was going to say to you was surely going to make you combust.

You're also bloated, a huge insecurity of yours because what you packed for today is rather skin tight. What typically would make you look snatched today looks relatively unflattering today. You try to give yourself grace. Body changes during a cycle is normal. It's part of being a woman.

"Shy Girl!" Eddie calls out to you from the other side of the dressing room. "You gonna be out soon, baby? Got a few regulars of yours at Vecna's Lair!"

The Hellfire Girls' ears perk up when they hear "regulars". Whatever is up their sleeves today cannot be any good.

You call back out to Eddie as you make your finishing touches. "Yes, coming!"

"I don't know," Emmy says, projecting her voice slightly louder than she usually does. You look towards her general direction as she talks. "I feel like a lot of people are uneducated about dressing for their body type. Cuz when you don't dress correctly for your body, it just makes everything look so unflattering."

You look down at your body and start to feel a little sad. Although the conversation was between Emmy and Justice, you can't help but feel attacked.

You decide to make your way over to the DJ and show him your songs for the night. Your choice for the evening is Candy by Doja Cat because its slow and sexy rhythm will allow you to move in a manner that is flexible for this particular phase of your cycle.

After thanking the DJ, you confidently strut back down from the stage, channeling your inner Marilyn Monroe walk as you continue to move around.

"Oh my god," you hear Justice say. "That's kinda really embarrassing. Can you imagine?"

Suddenly, you hear Eddie's voice trail after you. Out of all people.

"Baby!" he exclaims.

Stunned, you turn around. "Yes?"

"I uh," Eddie stammers. "Let's get you back into the locker room huh?"

You're confused. What could possibly be going on to cause such panic in Eddie's eyes? Why was he so frantic, pushing and hauling you into the dressing room — and not in a way you'd like.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Eds, slow down!" you exclaim. "What is it?"

Eddie gulps as he tries to catch his breath. You wait for him to talk, but he's too busy grabbing some spare towels and even some paper ones.

"Respectfully, Hargrove," Eddie says as he strides back over to you. "You need to change outfits or something."

Like Billy, you immediately go into defensive mode.

"OH IT LOOKS THAT BAD, HUH?” you demand. Your mini-freak out earns you some laughter from those girls, but you're too aggravated to give them your attention. “Sorry that I'm a little bloated today! Sorry that I’m a normal human being whose body is different depending on the day."

"It's not that, baby," Eddie insists. "It's just that... your bleeding? It went through."

Looking in the mirror now, you see a HUGE blot behind you. Your tampon had gotten dislodged and now there is blood all over your cute baby blue set. Heat begins to simmer at your cheeks.

Those fucking Hellfire Girls. How dare they not tell you?

When you glare back over at them, the Hellfire Girls are trying to conceal their laughter. What's even more infuriating is that Eddie doesn't seem to notice. But to be fair, he's too fixated on you to pay other women any mind. You want to pop them all, see how funny it is after.

"Seems like you're having a rough day," Eddie comments as he strokes your back.

"I am," you admit. "I tried to tough it out and come to work today, but nothing is going right." The air is quiet again when the girls see Eddie touching you lovingly.

You turn your body back towards the mirror and look at your ruined set in dismay. Eddie hates seeing you upset. Resting his gentle hands on your shoulder, he begins to barter.

"How about…” Eddie says. “You take the rest of the night off? I’ll take you home right quick. To my place.”

“Really?”

“Yeah!” your man nods, causing you blush. “Harrington and I have a shit ton of ice cream so you can help yourself. Lay in my bed, watch something on Netflix... When I'm off work and done visiting Wayne, we can cuddle, and I can give you belly rubs. Sound good?"

"Sounds like heaven, actually."

You don’t know what you’ve done to deserve him. Eddie is so tender and sweet when he lets his walls down. You’re grateful that he decided to lean into the unknown when it comes down to you. Such a good boyfriend already.

The Hellfire Girls can’t help but eavesdrop on your little exchange. Suddenly, Eddie speaks again.

“Are we okay?” Eddie questions you with his beady eyes.

“Yes,” you smile. “We’re more than okay.”

Eddie kisses your cheek. He leaves his peck there for a few seconds before letting go. "I'll come scoop you in 10 once I get everything squared away. Then it’s junk food and cuddles all night long.”

Eddie makes sure that the girls hear this entire conversation. As you start to pack your stuff, Nancy drops in with a graceful smile, spoiling you with pads, tampons, and some ibuprofen. Meanwhile, Jonathan packs you a Sprite in a to-go cup with a smiley face, and Argyle spoils you with your usual — chicken wings, flats only.

The Hellfire Girls are fuming. Their attempt to embarrass you didn't go as planned. Instead, they got a lovesick Eddie with a Shy Girl on her way to his house to drink hot tea, scarf down some junk food, and relish in a heat pack of sorts and cuddles all night. And Eddie’s friends indirectly rushing to your defense.

But this humbling experience doesn’t stop their games. No no, it only just issued them a new set of information and ammunition for more intense blows.

The torment isn’t stopping here. The girls are going try harder.

---

STRIKE TWO

It didn’t stop at the subtle jabs.

If there was an opportunity to inconvenience you, the Hellfire Girls took it. Like calling Eddie on his day off — while he’s out with you — to come scope out a problem that could’ve been fixed without him. Or stealing your song choice when they heard you talking about it with Chrissy, and how you planned on using it for your set. Or “dropping” breakable items like your nail polish on accident and blaming it on their ‘complete and utter clumsiness’. Funny, because Eddie is always talking about how poised they are and a myriad of other good things…because that’s just who your boyfriend is at his core: a lover and supporter of women. Unlike some people.

It was Dustin’s turn to grocery shop one day. And while the Eddie Special is back on the menu, it was the waffle fries’ turn to be 86’d. Mike’s girlfriend, Jane keeps eating them and Wheeler of course always forgets to take inventory.

"So what does 86 mean?"

You're eating lunch with a couple Hellfire Girls in the dressing room when service industry lingo is brought up. Everyone eyes you, from Emmy to Lady to Kassidy. Justice seems to be holding her breath.

"86?" you repeat just to make sure.

Kassidy gives you a look, almost a "duh" kind of look that makes you feel slightly stupid.

"Yeah, heard you talking about it with the kitchen staff."

"Oh," you say. "Oh well 86 means to get rid of something. Maybe because it's not available anymore, or out of stock. Not needed, even."

"I see..." Kassidy responds.

"Wish we can '86' people," Lady mutters.

The comment earns her a snicker from Kassidy and Lady. It makes you feel weird inside. They couldn't have possibly been talking about you, right?

You walk away to throw away your food, and while you’re away from them their laughs intensify. Now all they could talk about is ‘86’ and their own personal spins on it.

Oh they were most definitely talking about you.

You decide to leave the dressing room and hang out at the hookah lounge before your next set. It was clear you weren’t welcome and you weren’t about to be in the company of people who were only going to drain your energy.

The audacity of it all still leaves you appalled. Plotting behind your back is one thing, but the fact they had the guts to say it and do things in front of you now is scary.

𓆩♡𓆪

“And then they said, ‘Wish we could 86 people’,” you recall angrily. “That basically implies they want to get rid of me.”

“That sucks, sis,” Billy sighs. “Yeah, that’s exactly what it sounds like.”

You’re on the phone playing catch-up with Billy on your day off. Meanwhile, Eddie is playing a video game with his online friends, allowing you to use his room to pace around in frustration.

“And one time when I was on my period, I bled through,” you continue. “And then Eddie-”

Billy interrupts you before you could positively advertise your man. You would think your brother would want to know that his twin sister is in good hands judging by the way Eddie took care of you when you were feeling like absolute shit…how instead of forcing you to perform he sent you home early and ate junk food with you and gave you a heat pack and belly rubs to help with cramps…But no.

“I don’t wanna hear about that girl stuff,” Billy gags. “It’s fucking disgusting.”

Classic Billy.

“…okay,” you huff and digress. “But you get the picture, right? These girls have it out for me.”

“Oh for sure,” Billy agrees. “It’s one-sided beef because they’re intimidated by you. I hope they get the shit pimp-slapped out of them for being dicks to you.”

“I wouldn’t go as far as to say that…” you mumble.

“But I would,” Billy laughs pridefully.

No matter how awful the girls were being to you, you wouldn’t wish anything upon them like Billy described. They were already miserable anyways, judging by how awful they were being to you for no reason. If anything you’d wish them healing and some love because they clearly needed it.

“I wish I could go over there and give ‘em a piece of my mind,” your twin brother continues, the thought of violently attacking women quite possibly giving him a hard-on via the other line. “No one can be mean to my sister BUT ME.”

The execution of his words makes your stomach turn. Because as those words are uttered, you’re back in the San Diego rental, screaming and crying, clawing at Billy to get him off of you because apparently your change in tone towards him was enough justification for you to be accosted against the wall.

“That was really uncalled for, Billy,” you scold him. “Time and place, please.”

Suddenly, the vibe changes. You can practically feel the heat through the phone.

“What, you’ve never heard of that expression before?” Billy demands. “It was a fucking joke, don’t get so butthurt.”

“Is it really a joke?” you hiss. “Because if we revisit the timeline, you haven’t been exactly nice to me either.”

“OH MY…” Billy sighs in exasperation. “I can’t say SHIT to you without you crying about it. Maybe those bitches are onto something. Maybe YOU’RE the fucking problem.”

“How can you say that?!” you shout.

The change in your tone causes Eddie to look up from his computer. Like second nature, the tears free fall from your eyes as you scream at your brother through the phone.

“After I vent to you about EVERYTHING, Billy, really?!”

“I don’t know, maybe since so many people have a problem with you…including ME,” your brother snaps. “'Think it’s time we look at the common denominator.”

“YOU KNOW WHAT FUCK YOU! I don’t know why I tell you anything anymore!”

“YEAH WELL FUCK YOU TOO BITCH!” Billy screams back. “I’m GLAD you and that scrawny red-headed BRAT moved out. My life has NEVER BEEN THIS PEACEFUL!”

“Yeah cause you were SO unbothered you had to FLY HERE and CONFRONT ME AT MY JOB, RIGHT?”

It’s a few more nasty exchanges of words and threats before you hang up and chuck your phone at the wall. Startled, and probably reminded of his own traumas, Eddie’s first instinct is to duck. You watch as he trembles slightly, like a puppy during a thunderstorm, before removing his cupped hands away from his ears.

He then makes his way over to you, demeanor shifting from alarmed to alarmed for you.

“Hey,” Eddie whispers to you in consolation. “Hey hey hey hey. Come here. Come here.”

He rocks you in place. Immediately you collapse into Eddie’s arms. You’re absolutely tired. Tired of the Hellfire girls. Tired of putting on a happy face for your little sister 24/7. Tired of Billy. Tired of feeling like a burden.

“I fucking hate him,” you wail. “I hate him, I hate him. I hate him.”

“You don’t need him.”

“I don’t need him.”

“You don’t need him.”

“I don’t,” you tell Eddie, and yourself. “Fuck him. Fuck California. Fuck everything.”

“That’s right baby,” Eddie whispers. He plants a soft kiss onto your forehead. “You’re staying here with me.”

“With you.”

𓆩♡𓆪

Eventually you do get over it and decide that Billy and the Hellfire Girls don’t deserve any of your time and energy.

Just in time for another work shift. Today you’re doing personal lap dances at VECNA’S LAIR, but it’s not too busy so you’re essentially scanning the room in search of clients for the first hour.

Your eyes light up when you pinpoint a few regulars. You skip on over to the first one.

“Hi, Barry!” you exclaim. “How are you?”

“Oh, god! Hello Shy Girl!” Barry replies. He looks happy to see you, but oddly not particularly excited. “How…have you been?”

“I’ve been well! Long time no see!” you smile. “How are your boys?”

“They’re doing well,” your regular nods. “They’re working on their college applications right now, and the younger one has been scouted for some schools on the East Coast for football.”

“You must be so proud.”

“Very!”

It seems like Barry has cut the conversation there. Strange, because he almost always requests a dance. You decide to push for more information.

“Sooo, are you in the mood for a dance today?”

“You’re a sweetheart,” Barry blushes. “But no thank you, not today. I’m trying to save money so I’m just gonna have a drink and go.”

Now THAT’S really odd. First of all, Barry is LOADED, hence being a regular. And even if being frugal was the case, what was his ass even doing at Hellfire? You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by prying further so you just leave it at that, wishing Barry a lovely rest of his day and going about your day.

When you leave, you’re taken aback when Justice makes her way over to your client and asks him the same question.

“Hi, Barry. Would you like a dance?”

“Oh, hi! Yes, I’d love one!”

You nearly get whiplash just by how fast you crane your neck back over to them. What the actual fuck? Eyeing them curiously, you watch as Barry slips a 20 over to Justice, to which she takes from him seductively as she sinks onto his lap. Her eyes trail over to you, somewhat satisfied with herself when she sees you watching. Your blood starts to boil. She just took your regular. And in a sense, your money.

But that’s still something you don’t have time to entertain. So you strut over to your next regular, Asher.

Sweet, sweet Asher. He’s significantly younger than Barry. Finance major, freelancer, only child in his early twenties and his parents are rich. Asher has always been nice to you, and like Steve, spoils the fuck out of you when you’re his dancer.

“Hey you,” you bat your lashes at him. “Long time no see!”

“Oh my god, Shy Girl!” Asher exclaims. He doesn’t hug you like he usually does, but he’s still happy to see you. “It’s been a minute. I actually didn’t think you were coming in today.”

“I’m always on Thursdays,” you point out. “You always get a dance from me.”

“Ohhh, that’s right,” Asher recalls. “You and Eddie call today Friday Junior Junior.”

“Yeah, silly!” you giggle. “Speaking of dances, would you like one?”

Your question generates a similar reaction from Asher like Barry had given you. It was then that you knew something had to have been up. But nothing could’ve possibly prepared you for what Asher was about to say.

“Oh, no thanks!” your client gracefully declines. “I think I’ll wait until you fully recover. I hope you’re okay with that boundary of mine.”

Appalled, you try to construe what he meant by that.

“Yes, I respect your boundaries of course…” you say. “But, what do you mean by get better?”

“Aren’t you sick?” Asher questions. “And like…taking antibiotics for something serious? Cause if you are, you shouldn’t be at work.”

Asher respectfully ends your conversation right then and there. It’s like a mental door has closed on your face. Completely distraught, you walk away from your other reliable regular, just to have Lady walk up to him and be granted permission to give him a dance.

This is ridiculous. You need to get to the bottom of these rumors right away. On your way to the bar, you run into Nina. She extends her arms out to you, eyes widening as you walk towards her.

“OMG, Shy Girl!” Nina exclaims, rather panicked. “What are you doing here girl, you need to be home recovering?!”

“Recovering from what?” you snapped. “I just had TWO regulars turn me down but then say yes to dances from other dancers. Why did I have to learn through the grapevine that I’m sick?! Which I am not, by the way.”

“So… you don’t have gonorrhea?”

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head.

“WHO THE FUCK SAID I HAD GONORRHEA?!”

Nina’s face drops when she realizes. You don’t even have to pry any further now. The pained look on your friend’s face told you EXACTLY who started that rumor.

Now those girls are pushing it. Because now you’re losing out on money and clientele. Absolutely aggravated, you storm back into the dressing room to collect yourself because you’re sure as hell not going to let them see you fall apart.

When you slam the door, you allow yourself to have a good cry. Luckily, Nina and Chrissy are the only ones in there with you. The only girls you trust at this establishment besides Nancy.

You’re not sad. You’re crying because you’re angry and frustrated. Nina and Chrissy understand, swarming you with hugs and validating back pats, letting you cry until you had no tears left to do so anymore.

“Shy Girl,” Nina frowns. “I have no words.”

Your bottom lip quivers profusely as you shake your head.

“I just don’t understand,” you choke. “Why are they so horrible to me? I didn’t do anything to them.”

“I’m really sorry love,” Chrissy rubs your back as she lays her head on your shoulder. “Unfortunately, I understand that all too well. They did the same thing to me too.”

STRIKE THREE, YOU’RE OUT.

“God, you need a new car, Munson.”

You’re smoking with Eddie in his van during your ‘joint’ lunch break. It’s become a tradition now for you two to take your meals at the same time to spend time with each other because you’re both way too busy to be affectionate work.

“Babe, really?” Eddie huffs jokingly. “Put some respect on Shiela’s name. She’s been through hell and back with me.”

You giggle as you take a huge drag from your blunt, inhaling then expelling, coughing up the remainder and taking in the slight comfort of a warm chest. You pass Eddie the blunt to finish it.

“But you’re right though,” Eddie admits with a sigh. He fiddles with the blunt before putting it out on his ash tray. “The good news is I’m caught up on Wayne’s bills. Next 'big boy' purchase is a new whip.”

“That’s awesome baby,” you smile. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Or a motorcycle,” Eddie smirks. “I’d love a bike.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not?” he quips.

Eddie leans over the center console to kiss your temple. When you hum in pleasure, he begins trailing down your neck.

“Thought you liked bad boys.”

You and Eddie proceed to have a healthy debate. It isn’t about the bad boy aesthetic like Eddie thinks it’s about, but more so the practicality of the situation. Eddie needs something to lug groceries in when he's out running errands, and with Wayne still getting active cancer treatments, the old man needs a ride to his appointments. And that poor man has aged out of the Bad-to-the-Bone 'cyclist scene, you’re afraid.

“Speaking of practicality,” Eddie says. He nods towards your red Toyota Camry that’s parked on the opposite end of the lot. “Why’d you park there? Move your car closer so I don't have to walk you too far tonight.”

You look through the rearview mirror to locate your baby. Eddie was right. It was parked further than it usually is, and if your boyfriend isn’t the one escorting you to your car tonight it’s going to be Henry or one of the other boys who are sure to complain. By the door would be convenient for everyone.

“Okay,” you say. You kiss him. “Be right back.”

You climb out of Eddie's van and make your way over to your car. After several tries, you hit a scary realization.

Your car won’t start.

You try again. And again, and again. Still, to no avail. Eddie eventually pops his head out, wondering why the ordeal is taking you so long. You exaggerate a shrug to him so he could see your sense of panic from a distance.

"What happened?!"

"It won't start!"

“Let me at her,” Eddie replies. “I was a mechanic before I started a business…”

You and Eddie switch places and you decide to wait for him by the door. Jonathan startles you a moment later when he opens it abruptly.

“Sorry, Shy Girl. The boys need Eddie for a minute can you go grab him for me?”

“He’s taking a look at my car, it won’t start,” you explain.

Jonathan’s face drops. “Oh no, that sucks. Hope you don’t have to take it in.”

“I hope so too. Either way I’ve got a ride home. It’s just inconvenient.”

Jonathan, whose knowledgeable about cars too, starts asking you some screening questions to help identify the problem. You assure him that nothing was wrong with it throughout the week, and there surely wasn’t anything wrong with it earlier.

Soon Chrissy comes out too.

“Hey!” she chimes. “Where’s Eddie? The boys are looking for him.”

“He’s looking at my car, something’s wrong with it,” you explain again. “It was fine this morning but when I went go move it, it kinda just—”

“Found the culprit,” Eddie grunts uneasily.

Your boyfriend waves you three over and you all follow suit. There's soot and grease all over your man's hands, but that is a kink to be explored much later. For now, the astonished look on his face is one of the main things to worry about.

Eddie points to your gas tank.

“There’s a shit ton of sugar there. The fuel in that tank is practically semi-solid.”

Sugar in your gas tank. THOSE BITCHES PUT SUGAR IN YOUR GAS TANK. You and Chrissy look at each other immediately, both of your suspicions about whose responsible practically ringing true.

“I know who fucking did it,” you shake your head.

“I-” Eddie’s face drops. He is utterly disappointed in the Hellfire Girls. “I just don’t even know what to say.”

He reaches into his pocket to grab his phone. Suddenly, your phone pings. It’s a Venmo notification.

“But less saying more doing, right?” Eddie tries to chuckle optimistically. “I just sent you $2K. Wayne’s cancer is acting up again, and I have to take him to his oncologist tomorrow. You let me know if they quote you for more than that.”

“Two grand?!” you shriek. “It’s bad huh?”

“Yeah…I ain’t gonna sugarcoat it, sweetheart,” Eddie frowns. “You might need a fuel tank replacement.”

Now you and Chrissy are fuming. Nina eventually comes over to check on everyone as well and is stunned by the news she hears. She starts to angrily take off her hoops, those fucking cunts, but Jonathan stops her.

“I’ll fuck ‘em up!” Nina insists. “I’m from Nocturna, baby. We don’t mess around there.”

“My ex was from Chula, and my brother is Billy,” you tsk. “We don’t play around either.”

Eddie puts his hands on his hips. “I guess we’ll call the tow company to come take it to Dave’s. I can take you home tonight, baby. It’s no issue.”

“No!” Chrissy snaps. “Nina and I are taking her home. If there’s no issue here, fix the evident ones inside!”

“Let’s go back inside Shy Girl,” Nina grumbles. “This is ridiculous.”

Your two friends are at either sides of you, linking your arms with theirs in solidarity. Those girls inside are about to get an earful. NO ONE messes with YOU and gets away with it.

“EDDIE,” Chrissy forewarns before slamming the door. “FUCKING PUT THEM IN CHECK, OR WE WILL.”

You’re too distraught to say anything. Otherwise, you would totally be ripping some cheap extensions out out some heads right now. You can’t believe these girls would go as far as to damaging your property, all because Eddie found someone who made him happy after his shitty divorce. If you did to them what they did to you, you know they definitely wouldn’t like that.

CLOSED FOR THE REST OF THE NIGHT DUE TO STAFFING ISSUES. SORRY FOR EDGING YOU :/

It was Eddie’s decision to close early because there was just so much that needed to be taken care of. But hearing Eddie scold and hold the girls accountable in his office, you know — the same office he was screwing you in — was music to your ears.

But even that state of bliss is short-lived. Because like a deadly virus, when the smear campaign doesn’t work, it mutates into a much larger issue: retaliation.

“See what happens when you snitch?” a voice demands. “Eddie loses out on business.”

You turn your head around to see Justice mad-dogging you with her arms crossed. You inflate your chest and stand up to her, showing no signs of intimidation.

“You’re fucking his shit up, just like his sorry ex wife,” she says to you.

You start to walk closer to her, to which Chrissy and Nina go after you right away.

“Woah woah woah there sister!” Chrissy stops you.

“Hey hey hey,” Nina joins in, helping her pull you away.

But Justice isn’t scared. Why should she be? She’s been here longer than you. She’s known Eddie longer than you. But she still has no business butting into Eddie’s. Especially if it fuels the fire that she and her friends desperately wanted to start.

“If I were y’all… I’d back the fuck up,” you advise her. “I don’t think you realize, but you’re fucking with a Hargrove.”

“Okay… and you’re fucking with Eddie’s Day Ones,” Lady comes to Justice’s defense, sneering at you condescendingly. “Sorry, Valley Girl, we don’t know what that means here in Hawkins.”

“Oh but you will. After damaging my rep AND property.”

“Oh was that a threat? You’re threatening us now huh?”

“Eddie’s not gonna fuck you,” Nina spits at them. “You do realize that right?”

“I mean…good,” Kassidy chuckles. “Wouldn’t wanna fuck him after Miss Gonorrhea did.”

𓆩♡𓆪

Do you accept the risk? Do you accept the risk?

All this time you thought Eddie was asking you because he knew he still had some baggage to sort through. But now you’re starting to wonder if there was a double meaning.

Eddie’s OG dancers are obviously in love with him, there’s no doubt about it. It stopped becoming a matter of “protecting Eddie” when they started sabotaging your experience at Hellfire after learning of your involvement with him. Had you been just another dancer, this would never have been the case.

Eddie tries to text you. But you don’t have the strength to reply. The next few days is spent in isolation, using this time alone to contemplate about what it is you truly want.

You came to Hawkins to escape Billy’s never-ending torment. Now that torment has seemed to take on a new form, and your inner peace is something you’re never ever going to sacrifice again.

Your first Monday back, you make your way over to Eddie’s office. And it’s almost like Eddie knows. As much as you know how deep that abandonment wound sits in Eddie’s soul, you knew you still had to put yourself first.

“Hi, Eds.”

“Baby…” Eddie pleads at a whisper. “Don’t do this. I can already see it in your eyes.”

You weren’t leaving him. You want to be with him more than anything. But this extension of him? You can love it to bits but still not want anything to do with it. Especially if the environment is unbearably toxic.

“I just think…our relationship is bleeding into work,” you swallow hard. “And I probably need to go somewhere else if we want this to last.”

“Please don’t word the first part like that…”

Eddie doesn’t tell you because he knows it’s not your intention, but it starts giving him war-like flashbacks to when his marriage with Isabelle started bleeding into work. The abandonment wound with her — and everyone in his life except Wayne — cuts so deep. He NEEDS that bandaid. But for your well-being, you needed to rip it off.

“It’s what we get for shitting where we eat, I guess,” you sniff, trying to laugh the burden of it all away.

“I warned you,” Eddie chokes. “Didn’t I?”

“I know,” you sigh. “But I just couldn’t help how I feel about you.”

“Then stay!” he begs. “The good outweighs the bad, sweetheart. Our friends love you so much.”

“I love them too, but if I’m gonna get verbally accosted, harassed, laughed at, and have sugar put in my gas tank then what’s the point?”

The tears leave Eddie’s eyes easily, and he doesn’t stop them from doing so. If only the Hellfire girls saw the pain they have caused you AND this man — the man they swore up and down that they were ‘protecting’.

“It’s either that or you fire 60 percent of your dancers and I WON’T let you do that,” you gulp. “It’s best to get rid of just one.”

“Just please, let’s talk it through.”

But there’s nothing left to talk about. No Eddie, you shake your head. What’s done is done, and what needs to be said has already been communicated. And as Eddie hangs his head in shame, you tug at the drawstrings of your cloak, fold it up neatly, and set it down on his desk.

“I’m quitting Hellfire.”

🏷️ tag list: @chrrymunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe @hideoutside , @motherfckerr , @jxpsi , @lindseyj23, @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria , @micheledawn1975 , @hereforshmut , @siriuslysmoking , @nymphetkoo , @m-chmcl-rmnc , @justinelittlewoodsworld , @ahoyyharrington , @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse @kellyxo1 @emsgoodthinkin @winchester-angel @chloe-6123 , @redbarn1995 @angietherose @kiyastrf94 , @purplewitchcauldron @kellsck @joyfulfxckery @munsons-mayhem28 @dragonfire @emma77645 @drivelikenina @livosssblog @thinkingth0ts @hugdealer @ellielunamckay

[second-wife-playbook]

@helluvaoutlaw

Coronis had always wanted to come to Wrath. To visit. Wrath was a wilderness with a capital W. The desert that stretched off into the horizon, it's many suns and volcanoes, and it's people...wily, strong, and with quickfire tempers. She had seen it replicated on TV, with adventures in the lawless lands, cowboys and the like.

Well this was an example of; be careful what you wish for.

The transport going through the desert likely boasted some stunning views, but Coronis wasn't seeing any of them. She felt out of place, paralyzed with terror. Her high-society gown was completely unsuitable to the rough terrain, and every time the vehicle jostled over the rough robe, she felt her breathe catch and her pulse quicken.

Andrealphus looked unconcerned. Why should he? He wasn't the one about to become a meal.

"You're so overdramatic. It could always be worse." That was what he said. That was the fucking audacity the Marquis had when Coronis was strong-armed to the ground, hands and feet tied and the horrors explained. "You will be remembered as an exalted martyr, and spare the family a terrible fate. What more could a noble want, really?"

To live, goddammit! To actually live, and not get eaten by a fucking snake-god!!!

Cori had tried to protest. But apparently such attempts at mercy were unpalatable to the ears of her brother and her fated executioner. A simple gesture was all that was needed to tape her beak shut, unable to make a peep aside from muffled whimpers and cries. She wasn't even given the courtesy of knowing what she was being sacrificed for.

The convoy stopped outside of a volcano. A lone cave awaited, with a rough looking imp in a robe bearing a serpent with terrifying eyes. He looked displeased to see the Marquis and Coronis, but nonetheless gestured to a lone minecart. "This will take her right down." He explained gruffly. "Beware Goetia. The Great Destroyer does not take pleasure in meager offerings."

"Rest assured, my heart breaks to see her go-" Andrealphus had said with a long-suffering moan, wrapping an arm around Cori's shoulders, even as she wriggled to break free. "-and I will mourn her passing every day for as long as I live."

A very scripted, very insincere answer. The imp must have sensed it...but didn't question it. "Right. Down she goes."

Andrealphus had brought two large hellhounds for security...and a sack. Coronis fought to break free as hard as she could, but she was being wrangled in with the ease of manhandling a baby chick. The Marquis gave her a last long look.

"I will miss you, you know." He said. Trying for once, to actually sound as if he meant it. "There will never be a soul as easy and soft as you."

Don't! Don't! Coronis begged with all her might, trying to plead with her eyes. Please, please, I don't want to die!!

But as she was dropped into the minecart, everything went very dark. There was a moment's stillness, and then a jolt as the cart went sailing, the sound of the wind whipping past and a heavy dip-

And Coronis entered Wrath's underworld.

______

C'mon, c'mon! Get these stupid things offa me!

The cart whistled down the track at speeds Coronis could only imagine. But within the sack she was trapped it, she pushed her arms around her back legs as far as they would reach until they were capable of being severed by her talons...as fast as she could anyway. It was slow work, and each second felt like it was passing at breakneck speeds.

I-I have to get out! I'll be killed if I don't get out! What would happen should she escape the sack, much less the cart, she had no idea. Run away and join a rodeo? Become an itinerant wanderer in the desert? Turn into a cave dweller?! That could all wait until the ropes-

Snap.

To her great relief, her hands were freed. She tugged and tore at the ropes binding her feet, then clawed at the tape that kept her beak shut, shredding it off. "I gotta get outta here!"

CLANG!

The cart stopped so short that the sack...and all it's contents, rolled out. Coronis yelped in surprise and pain, bruised by the rough landing. She frantically felt for the opening, pulling it open as fast as she could-

Only to wish she had stayed in the sack.

[chvoswxtch]

show me

pairing: billy russo x fem!reader

summary: billy thinks you need an attitude adjustment.

warnings: swearing, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

word count: 6.2k

a/n: nobody asked for this, i'm just going through a slutty billy russo phase right now. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

“You should really lock your door.”

A startled gasp flew past your lips when the timber of Billy’s voice filled your otherwise silent apartment. Anger and irritation quickly filled your blood as you took a deep breath to steady yourself, slamming your front door shut behind you as you tossed your keys onto the little side table in the entryway.

“You shouldn’t break into people’s apartments.”

“I didn’t even have to break in. The door was unlocked.”

Turning around to face Billy, you didn’t bother coveting the vexation that twisted your features, glaring over in his direction as he sat calmly in one of the bar stools in front of your kitchen island. His jaw was tense, lips pressed in a firm line, and his dark brown eyes were glaring back at you just as vehemently.

“So you just let yourself in?”

“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been callin’ you for hours. I told you to wait in your office.”

“And I said no. Actually, I’m pretty sure my exact words were ‘fuck this’.”

Billy’s eyes were glued to your figure as you walked directly past him to enter your small kitchen, standing up on your tiptoes to reach the bottle of tequila perched on top of your fridge. Your hands trembled with rage, continuously slipping on the cap, only fueling your frustration further. No one had ever gotten under your skin the way Billy Russo had. Whatever tiny slivers of a good person he had shown you were constantly extinguished by irrefutable evidence that he was an arrogant asshole with an ego the size of fucking Jupiter.

“I gave you an order.”

“Did you really think I was going to stay? After the way you treated me-”

“Goddammit Y/N, I told you I was handling it.”

Billy slammed his fist down on your island, momentarily stunning you silent. He was all about appearances, and very rarely did he ever lose his temper in front of anyone. He liked to maintain an aura of indifference, as if nothing could pierce his cold, steel exterior. But the fury burning in his gaze gave him away, and you felt a surge of pride that you had managed to piss him off right back. Billy didn’t like being told no, or to be challenged, so you made it your personal mission to do both as much as possible. For whatever reason, you were the only person he allowed to do that.

“Well you fucking handled it wrong. I can even believe you had the audacity to ask me to leave, after the way that asshole spoke to me-”

“Because I was handling it! This is my fuckin’ company, Y/N. I call the shots, not you. If you would have just waited patiently, like I fuckin’ told you to do, then you would know that I cut ties with his business and also gave him the parting gift of a broken nose. I asked you to wait in the office so that I could deal with him directly, because that is my job. I asked you to wait so that I didn’t have to watch him practically undress you with his eyes for the millionth fuckin’ time today. But you don’t know how to fuckin’ listen.”

Tilting your chin up in a sign of defiance, you attempted to keep your composure as Billy stalked around the island, closing the distance between you in two short strides, standing so close you could feel his angry staccato breaths on your eyelashes. His nostrils were flaring, chest rising and falling quickly as he stared you down. You had never been this close to Billy before, and you hated how good his stupid expensive cologne smelled.

You also hated that his slicked back hair always looked perfect, never a single piece out of place, and that his dark beard was always neatly trimmed. You hated that Billy was undeniably attractive, and that he fucking knew it. You especially hated how good he looked in all his ridiculous designer suits that were tailored to fit him like a second skin. You hated how put together he was. You hated how much of a pretentious show off he was. You hated the deep velvet tone of his voice and how your name sounded rolling off his tongue, even if it was spoken with annoyance or irritation laced through it.

You hated that you really wanted to fuck him.

But you loved to fuck with him.

Taking a bold step forward to eliminate any space between your chests, you tipped your head back to glare up at his tall frame, lowering your voice as you let your venomous words sink into his ears.

“We are not in the military, Billy. You are not my commanding officer, and I am not some soldier that’s just going to follow the orders you bark at me without hesitation. That is not how this works.”

“I am your superior. You report to me. You work for me. So yeah actually, that is how this works.”

“Not anymore.”

If you thought Billy’s eyes were dark before, they were completely transcended with pure onyx now. Even this up close, you couldn’t see where his iris ended and his pupil began. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I found a new job.”

That was a lie. You hadn’t been out job hunting. You went to happy hour with your best friend to vent about the asshole client that had made a pass at you, and Billy’s inability to handle the situation correctly, and well…Billy in general. But he didn’t need to know that. You could have a new job by Monday, easily. Granted you probably wouldn’t find one that paid even half as good as Anvil did, or that came with as many perks, but you’d finally be free of Billy and his goddamn god complex. 

Somehow Billy’s features became even stonier, his sharp jawline appearing as if it could actually cut through glass while a muscle feathered beneath his neat facial hair.

“You’re not quittin’.”

“You don’t get to make that decision for me. Maybe my replacement will be more compliant.”

“Why do you always have to be so goddamn stubborn?”

“Why do you always have to be such an ass.”

Billy grit his teeth as his eyes narrowed into slits, top lip curling into a snarl that showed off some of his teeth as he blew a deep irritated exhale out through his nose. He let out a dry, humorless laugh as he held his hand up above your head.

“You know, I have fuckin’ had it up to here with that bratty little mouth of yours, and your fuckin’ attitude.”

“Well I’m not your problem anymore.”

Something flashed across Billy’s face that you didn’t recognize, and the rage that was burning in his eyes seemed to grow even wilder. A sinister smirk pulled slowly across his lips, and his brows lifted in an expression that almost resembled amusement as he moved forward. A silent gasp parted your lips when your back met the counter behind you, and Billy made sure to press his chest firm against yours as he trapped you with his tall frame, his arms caging you in as he placed his palms flat on the countertops. 

“No. See, that’s where you’re wrong, doll. It is my problem. Because I let you get away with it for too long without any consequences. But now, I think you need to be reminded about where your place is.”

You swallowed thickly at the new proximity to Billy, doing your best to appear unaffected by his presence, but your voice betrayed you as it came out shaky and breathless.

“And where’s that?”

A dark chuckle slipped past his lips as Billy leaned in as close as possible, nose just brushing against yours while he stared directly into your eyes.

“Wherever I fuckin’ say it is.”

Billy’s hand was wrapped around your throat like wild ivy before you even had a chance to process his words, his long slender fingers circling around your windpipe tightly to cut off any protests you threatened to spill. His other hand came up behind you to grab a fistful of your hair, holding you in place so that you had no choice but to stare up at him. Letting out a deep exhale through his nose, he made a tsk tsk tsk noise in the back of his throat.

“You disappoint me, doll. Such a smart girl, so fuckin’ impressive, but you gotta ruin it by bein’ such a goddamn brat. I’d give you the world, you know that? If you just knew how to fuckin’ behave. If you could just be a good girl, I’d give you whatever you wanted. But you wanna act like a bitch, so I’m gonna treat you like one. Here’s how this is gonna go. You do what the fuck I say, when the fuck I say it. You follow my orders without any backtalk or hesitation, I might consider takin’ it easy on you and let you come. You give me any shit at all, I will use you like a fucktoy until I’m satisfied and not let you come once. You understand?”

Your eyes nearly tripled in size at Billy’s words. Billy Russo was a natural flirt, that was a known fact. He hit on any pretty girl within a close range, but was more conservative about it when it came to his own employees. He had lightly flirted with you when you had first started working at Anvil, and you’d be lying if you said the attention from your attractive boss didn’t do something for you, but the more you were around him, the more that charm seemed to wear off as you got to see the real Billy. You didn’t think he actually found you attractive, or that he would actually want to fuck you seeing as how you were convinced he couldn’t stand you either.

Billy tightened his grip around your throat and you suddenly seemed to remember how your limbs worked as your hands shot up to grab onto his wrist tightly, staring up completely in disbelief into his dark eyes.

“I asked you a question. Do you understand?”

You couldn’t speak. You weren’t sure if it was the lack of oxygen going to your brain or if you were still having a hard time believing that Billy Russo wanted to fuck you. Heat abruptly spread across your cheeks and between your thighs, because you knew you were going to let him. Billy had gotten you wetter just by speaking to you than other men that had actually been in bed with you. Shutting off the logical part of your brain that was screaming at you how bad of an idea this was and reminding you how much you despised him, you leaned completely into your desire and let your pussy do the thinking. As you slowly nodded your head, Billy’s lips parted into a smug grin.

“Ah, so she does listen.”

It wasn’t hard for Billy to figure out where your bedroom was considering you lived in a tiny one bedroom apartment. For a moment you felt embarrassed, knowing that he probably lived in some luxury high rise penthouse somewhere with a bedroom that was most likely the size of your entire apartment. Shrugging off his suit jacket and tossing it onto your dresser, Billy kept his eyes fixated on you as he undid his tie and pulled it loose from his neck.

“Hands out, wrists together.”

Your hands were in front of you in a flash, and Billy didn’t bother hiding the satisfied smirk on his lips as he bound your wrists together tightly. The silk fabric of his tie was so soft against your skin, and the black color of it nearly matched his eyes at the moment. Giving the knot a tug to test the security, Billy grabbed your face in one of his hands to get you to look up at him. The smirk was gone as an expression of severity swirled in his eyes.

“You want out at any time, you tell me. Red means stop. You got that?”

Blinking a few times, you nodded your head slowly. Billy shook his head as he took a step forward, cradling your face a little more gently as he stared down into your eyes.

“I need you to tell me you got that. Tell me what I said.”

“Red means stop.”

Billy gave a slight nod of his head, tracing his index finger along your jawline with a proud half smile on his lips.

“Good girl. Now, get on your fuckin’ knees and show me you know how to follow orders.”

Billy grabbed your shoulders in his large hands and forcefully brought you down to your knees, causing a surprised gasp to flow past your lips. Your knees ached slightly as they collided with the hardwood beneath them, but the throbbing between your thighs completely drowned it out. Billy already towered over you, even when you wore heels, but from this angle, he loomed over you like a skyscraper piercing the clouds. He was quick to unbuckle his belt, eyes glaring down at you as he unbuttoned his pants and tugged down his zipper.

“Been thinkin’ about fuckin’ that mouth of yours for months. Always thought there was a better use for it than you talkin’ shit all the time. Now, open those pretty lips nice and wide.”

Instinctively your lips parted when Billy freed his cock from his briefs, a soft noise sounding in the back of your throat. He was completely hard, the swollen tip already leaking down his impressive length, and your mouth watered at the sight. Maybe Billy had a reason to be an egotistical asshole after all. Billy wasted no time slipping his cock past your lips, securing your hair into a tight makeshift ponytail as he groaned loudly above you.

“Fuck…your mouth feels even fuckin’ better than I imagined.”

Moaning softly around his thick cock, you hollowed out your cheeks and opened your mouth as wide as you could to accommodate him, staring up at him with wide eyes. Billy’s lips were parted into an ‘o’ shape, breathless pants leaving him as he rocked his hips against your face in a steady rhythm. He looked like a god above you, and all you wanted was to bring him to his own knees. Billy wanted you to follow his orders, and you were determined to show him that you could be good when you wanted to be. You wanted to show him what he had been missing out on this whole time; what he could’ve had if he hadn’t been such an ass.

Shuffling forward a bit on your knees, you took Billy’s cock even deeper into your mouth, a surprised moan falling from his lips when his tip hit the back of your throat. Billy immediately stared down at you in shock, still gripping at your hair tightly by your roots.

“Oh fuck…fuck.”

You pushed forward until your nose was flush against Billy’s neatly trimmed pubic bone, holding him there in your throat for as long as you could before you started to bob your head quickly, swirling your tongue around his length and swallowing around his tip. Spit dribbled down your chin as you gagged on his cock, flicking your tongue over the sensitive slit of his tip as he retracted his hips. Billy was an absolute mess above you, moaning loudly at the way you deepthroated him, tugging roughly at your hair as he kept thrusting his hips against your face.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ baby…fuck you know how to use that mouth. Knew you could, doll. Knew you could be my good girl.”

A hum of appreciation sounded in the back of your throat as you let your eyes flutter shut, enjoying the heavy feeling of Billy’s velvety soft cock sliding against your tongue. Your thighs were practically sticking together from the mess between them. You loved the way Billy roughly tugged at your hair, and the juxtaposition of his filthy praise mixed with the degrading way he fucked your face. You let your mind wander to just how rough he could get, and you felt yourself clenching around nothing from the excitement. 

You had always thought Billy’s power transcended into the bedroom, and maybe that’s why you found yourself attracted to him. Billy was tenacious, never took no for an answer, and always did whatever it took to get his way. He was dominant in every sense of the word, and you secretly had always wanted to fuck a man like him. A man that would bend you to his will, and then fuck you past it. Your hand snuck between your thighs of its own accord, desperately searching for some kind of relief as you slipped your fingers past your soaked panties. Billy groaned loudly above you at the sight.

“Holy shit, are you touchin’ yourself?”

A soft whine was muffled by Billy’s cock still slipping in and out of your mouth, and his other hand suddenly came down to grip your jaw forcefully.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes instantly flew open, a fresh wave of arousal coating your thighs at the dark look in Billy’s eyes and the sinister smirk on his lips.

“Did I say you could touch yourself? Don’t be fuckin’ greedy. What did I tell you, huh? Make me come down that pretty throat, and maybe I’ll fuck you.”

Reluctantly pulling your hand away, you kept your eyes locked on Billy’s as you started to move your head faster, whining around his length as you gripped onto his thighs tightly. 

“That’s it, look up at me with those pretty eyes while I fuck your mouth. That’s a good fuckin’ girl. Gonna let me come down that pretty throat?”

Nodding your head furiously, you alternated between sucking fervently on the head of Billy’s cock and taking him as far down your throat as you could manage. Billy threw his head back above you, his thrusts getting sloppier the closer he got to the edge, heavy pants of your name and various swears falling from his sinful lips. He held onto the back of your head tightly to keep you in place as he came with a loud shout, spilling wave after wave of warmth down the back of your throat that you swallowed as quickly as you could. Billy stumbled backwards slightly, leaving you gasping for breath as his cock slipped out of your mouth, staring up at him through blurry vision from tears that threatened to slip past your eyes.

Billy let out a dark chuckle as he started down at you, panting breathlessly as he leaned back against your dresser to compose himself.

“Goddamn, baby. If I had known you could do that, I woulda had you under my desk this whole fuckin’ time.”

You had never gotten particularly turned on by dirty talk before, or maybe your previous partners just weren’t good at it, but every sinful word that slipped past Billy’s lips went straight to your core and you whimpered softly. He cocked his head to the side slightly as he stared down at you, arching one of his dark brows as a smug smirk tugged at his mouth.

“Look at you, on your knees like a pathetic whore. Couldn’t even help touchin’ yourself when you took my cock down your throat. Not such a fuckin’ brat now, are ya?”

“Billy-”

“You want me to fuck you, don’t you?”

“God yes.”

“Beg me. Stay on your knees, and beg.”

“Please.”

“Ah, c’mon. You can do better than that. You were runnin’ that fuckin’ mouth just fifteen minutes ago. Why should I give you what you want when you’ve been such a pain in my fuckin’ ass, huh?”

A needy whine slipped past your lips as you gripped furiously onto the hem of your dress that had ridden up your thighs, feeling frustrated by Billy’s cruelty and overwhelmed by the desire throbbing at the apex of your thighs. The tie around your wrists was starting to bite into your skin from how hard you were tugging at it. 

“Please, Billy. I was good…I did what you asked. Please, I’m sorry. Let me make up for it, please. I need you to touch me…need it so bad, Billy. Please just touch me…please.”

You didn’t care how pathetic and desperate you sounded. You didn’t care that he could see the tears threatening to spill from how overwhelmed you were. You didn’t care that he had won this little battle of who could be more defiant. Your pride had completely gone out the window the second he had wrapped his hand around your throat. 

“Stand up. Now.”

You pushed yourself up with your bound hands as best as you could, knees feeling somewhat wobbly from how turned on you were. Billy made a motion with his finger for you to turn around, and you squeezed your eyes shut as you followed his silent order with a soft whimper.

“Bend over.”

You heard a light rustling of fabric behind you as you leaned over your bed slightly, grasping your comforter in your nimble fingers. The sound of Billy’s belt hitting your floor made your ears perk up, and you instinctively arched your back even more, wiggling your ass ever so slightly. The warmth of Billy’s hands suddenly on the back of your thighs caused you to jump, and he snickered lowly as he agonizingly pushed your dress up past your hips slowly. A deep groan resonated in his throat behind you, and you shuddered at the sound.

“Fuck, baby. Look at you. Got these panties fuckin’ soaked all the way through. You liked suckin’ my cock that much?”

“Yes.”

Billy delicately pushed the fabric aside, revealing your glistening cunt to him, and you shivered as the cool air made contact with your slicked folds. He lightly brushed his middle finger experimentally up and down your lips, humming in content behind you as you pushed your hips back against his hand for more. His other hand suddenly came down in a harsh slap against your ass, jolting you forward as you cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

“Told you not to be fuckin’ greedy.”

Billy’s palm print stung against your ass, but the way he slowly outlined your clit with his index finger had you nearly on the verge of combusting.

“God…Billy…please…” 

You could feel the warm, toned muscle of Billy’s stomach against your ass, and the blunt head of his hard cock brushing against your inner thigh. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of your panties to lazily tug them down your thighs, slipping them off to stuff into his pocket. 

“Always wanted to bend you over and fuck you in this dress. It’s my favorite.”

Billy gripped your ass in one of his large hands, kneading the flesh in his fingers as he slipped his index finger into your pussy, sucking in a deep breath loudly behind you as you moaned loudly.

“Goddamn you’re fuckin’ tight. No one’s fucked this pretty cunt properly, huh? No wonder you’re so bitchy all the time. Bet no one’s even made you come from fuckin’ you.”

Heat flushed into your cheeks at Billy’s words. The way he spoke to you should piss you off, and if you were level-headed, it probably would warrant your handprint being painted across his pretty face. But instead, all it did was make you want him more. You were slightly embarrassed that Billy was right. No other guy you’d been with had been able to get you off during sex. You always had to finish yourself off afterwards, which was frustrating. Billy grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked you backwards so hard, you cried out as the back of your head was now flush against his chest and his mouth was right by your ear.

“I asked you a question, doll. I expect an answer.”

“N-No. No Billy…no one…fuck…no one has. Have to…God, have to take care of myself.”

You were nearly breathless just from Billy slowly pumping one of his fingers inside of you. He made a sound of disapproval in the back of his throat, lightly nipping at your jaw as his thumb quickly ghosted over your clit.

“My poor girl. That’s just fuckin’ criminal. You’ve got the prettiest pussy, baby. Bet it tastes so fuckin’ sweet. Let’s see.”

A loud whine slipped past your lips when Billy withdrew his finger from you, gripping onto your jaw to make you watch as he licked your wetness off his index and middle fingers, eyes fluttering shut as he moaned at the taste.

“It’s really too bad you were bein’ such a fuckin’ brat earlier, cause I’d like nothin’ more than to bury my face in that sweet cunt until you were beggin’ me to stop. Maybe next time, doll.”

Billy let go of your hair as he pressed his palm flat against your back between your shoulder blades, shoving you roughly face down into the mattress as he climbed onto your bed behind you. He reached underneath your stomach to unravel the tie from your wrists, only to drag your arms behind you to bind them together again behind your back. Billy rubbed the head of his cock teasingly against your clit, chuckling darkly as you whimpered into your sheets.

“Should’ve behaved, doll. You earned this.”

Without warning, Billy pushed the blunt head of his cock past your entrance, sheathing himself completely inside you with one powerful thrust that sent your body forward. He didn’t give you any time to adjust to his size before he was gripping onto your waist hard enough to leave perfect indentations of his fingertips, pistoning into you from behind at a savage pace. Your entire bedroom was filled with the cacophony of your moans and pleas of Billy’s name, the sound of his hips repeatedly snapping against the back of your thighs, and the squelch of your soaked cunt swallowing his thick cock over and over and over.

Billy gripped onto your bound wrists, grunting lowly behind you and roughly smacking his hand over your ass as he fucked you relentlessly into your mattress. 

“This is all you needed, isn’t it? Just needed someone to fuck that goddamn attitude out of you, huh?”

You couldn’t form a single coherent thought. You couldn’t grab onto anything to hang onto. You couldn’t do anything except take everything Billy was giving you, and you loved it. 

“C’mon pretty girl, don’t tell me I’ve fucked you stupid already.”

“I…I…Billy…”

Billy let go of your waist to lean over you, resting his bodyweight entirely on top of you as he pressed his chest flush to your back. There was something comforting about the weight and warmth of his body caging you in completely as his cock dragged deliciously along your walls, and it nearly made your eyes roll into the back of your head. His hand wrapped around your throat tightly once again, lifting your head up slightly as he sucked at the spot just below your ear, grunting lowly and nipping at your jaw. 

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it baby? Wanted me to fuck you like this?”

You couldn’t speak. All you could do was nod feebly as you whimpered, reveling in the sensation of his fingers tightening around your throat.

“Wanted me to treat this pretty pussy right? Make you come around my cock?”

A louder whine fell past your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut, and Billy groaned loudly in your ear as your walls clenched tightly around him.

“Then fucking take it. Take my cock and show me what a good girl you can be. Show me you can listen, c’mon. Wanna feel that pussy drip onto my balls when you come. Show me, baby.”

You couldn’t take it anymore. It was all too overwhelming. Billy pressed his fingers against your jaw to turn your head, capturing your lips in a sloppy, passionate kiss as he angled his hips to reach a further depth within you, sending you crashing into your orgasm with a sharp cry of his name. He was everywhere. The steady feeling of his hand around your throat and his arm around your waist kept you upright as your knees gave out. The scent of his cologne had you slipping further and further into another plane of existence as stars danced behind your eyes. The low, velvet timber of his voice sounded lightyears away in your ears as he praised you, telling you how proud of you he was, beaming about what a good girl you were for him. He continued to fuck into you brutally as he chased his own high, spilling into you with a loud moan of your name, trapping your body beneath his as you both collapsed onto your bed.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed as you slowly descended back to Earth, but as your vision started to become clear again, you noticed that Billy was laying on his back with one arm propped behind his head, and he had pulled you onto his chest. His fingers were slowly carding through your hair as he watched you, the edge of his mouth curling upwards when your eyes finally met his. 

“There she is.”

Blinking slowly a few times, you stared up at Billy in a trance, your entire body simultaneously feeling weightless and heavy all at once. The satisfied smirk toying at the edge of his mouth had a rush of embarrassment coating your cheeks a deep shade of blush.

“Hi.”

“Hi pretty girl.”

Billy’s lips parted into a soft grin, and the warmth and intimacy of it had you hiding your face into his chest. He chuckled as he moved his hand to cup your cheek, gently lifting your jaw to get you to look at him.

“You alright?”

Anxiously nibbling at your bottom lip, you nodded your head slowly as you stared at him. The grin on his mouth languidly melted into something softer, and his eyes morphed into a more serious expression.

“You sure? Wasn’t too much, was it?”

“No…no it…it wasn’t.”

Billy stared into your eyes silently for a moment, searching for anything that would indicate you weren’t telling the truth. His lips fell somewhat into a frown as he stroked his thumb along your cheekbone.

“You really found a new job?”

“No.”

Billy paused his movements, arching one of his brows as his eyes narrowed slightly.

“You lied to me?”

“I was mad at you.”

Billy let out a deep exhale through his nose as he closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head slowly.

“Woman, you’re gonna send me into an early goddamn grave.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at the exasperated look on Billy’s face, and his eyes immediately flew open as he stared at you incredulously.

“Oh that’s funny, huh?”

“No! I mean…kinda.”

Billy narrowed his eyes again as your lips pulled into a playful smile. He let out another deep exhale of annoyance dramatically, causing you to giggle before his lips pulled into a timid smile.

“So you’re not quittin’ then?”

“Unfortunately, no. My boss is kind of a dick, but he pays really well. He also gives mind blowing orgasms, so there’s that.”

Billy’s mouth split into the widest grin as he leaned in, brushing his nose gently against yours before pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss. Your heart suddenly started to race as the severity of what just happened began to sink in. 

You had just fucked your boss, and you weren’t sure what this meant moving forward. You weren’t sure if Billy actually liked you, or if he just wanted to fuck you. You also felt a lingering cloud of confusion looming over your head. Sex with Billy was incredible, and you definitely wanted more of it, but the way he was being so gentle with you made your head spin and reignited the ember of a crush you’d developed when you first started at Anvil. 

But you weren’t sure if you could be with Billy. Ethical reasons aside, he was always so hot and cold with you, and the two of you argued about almost everything. Now you couldn’t tell if that was just due to the tension that had been thick between the two of you, or if you were just really that incompatible.

“Stop thinkin’ so hard.”

“What?”

“I can practically hear what’s goin’ on in your head right now.”

“No you can’t.”

Billy sighed as he pulled back to look at you, tilting his head to the side as he gave you a pointed look.

“We already back to this? Can’t we just enjoy the moment?”

“For how long, Billy?”

Billy’s brows furrowed slightly as he picked up on the vulnerability laced within your voice, sitting up a little to move closer to you as he wet his lips with his tongue.

“How long you want to?”

Billy stared at you silently as he waited for an answer. Your mind was a whirlwind of doubt and worst possible case scenarios, and you were struggling to find the silver lining.

“You’re my boss, Billy.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Do you even like me?”

“You’re jokin’, right?”

“No, Billy I’m not. Sometimes I genuinely can’t tell. Half the time I feel like you despise me.”

Billy dragged his palm down his face as he sat up fully, gesturing for you to sit up so he could take one of your hands to lace with his own.

“Baby, I mean this sincerely, you are an absolute pain in my ass. You get on my nerves more than anyone I’ve ever met in my life-”

“Billy-”

“I’m not finished. But, I don’t mind. Because you’re the only person brave enough to challenge me, to give me pushback when you feel like somethin’ ain’t right-”

“I thought you hated that-”

“My God woman, will you please shut up and let me talk?”

A scowl formed on your lips as you pulled your hand away from Billy’s briskly and crossed your arms over your chest. He let out a deep sigh as he cocked his head to stare at you, shaking his head with a light smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“You’re a goddamn handful, but you’re mine. I like that you challenge me. I like that you argue with me. I like that you call me out on my shit. I need someone like that. I need you. I meant what I said earlier. I do think you’re fuckin’ impressive, and incredibly smart, and I don’t wanna see you go. Not just cause I’m selfish, but also cause you’re a valuable asset to my company. You’re damn good at your job, and you make me better at mine. I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick lately, but in my defense, you bring that out in me. And I’m sorry if I hurt your feelin’s earlier, I wasn’t tryin’ to. I just fuckin’ hated the way he kept starin’ at you. And when he said that to you, I lost it. You may not like how I handle things, but I am always gonna protect you and come to your defense. You understand?”

Billy’s heartfelt confession thawed the icy resentment that you had been feeling towards him, and you felt warmth bloom within your ribcage. You didn’t even know what to say to him. Swallowing thickly, you gave a slight nod of your head as you stared at him doe-eyed, not trusting your own voice to respond. Billy chuckled lightly as he shook his head, clicking his tongue against his cheek.

“So fuckin’ you and pourin’ my heart out to you is how I shut you up, huh?”

Rolling your eyes, you shoved at his chest as you scoffed.

“God, sometimes you ruin everything whenever you open your mouth.”

Billy suddenly pushed you onto your back, tearing a surprised gasp from your mouth as he held your hands captive above your head and peered down at you with lust once again clouding his eyes.

“Why don’t you let me fix it with my mouth, then.”

Billy positioned his knee between your thighs to nudge them apart, staring down at you hungrily as he leaned down to nip lightly at your bottom lip.

“Billy…”

A wicked smirk curled at the corner of his mouth at the breathy tone of your voice, pulling back slightly as you chased his mouth with a soft whine.

“Yes, baby?”

“How…what…I don’t-”

“Shh shh shh, we can figure that out later. Right now, I’m in the mood for something sweet.”

tags: @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042

[spacecasette]

Bolt the Horse — c h a p t e r o n e

@madsmilfelsen for u my angel ♡

In the summer of 2011, she wore her hair in two braids down her back, and spent a not insignificant amount of time on barstools. The air was humid as a clenched fist and humming, so the most she could do to alleviate it was with a Miller High Life in hand, shorts admittedly a touch too short for lookin', and nothing better than trouble to get done. It was in this way she found herself in a bar without a ride home in the pouring September rain.

She was not, in her 25th year, looking for any kind of trouble she could not feasibly get into on her own. She felt as if she could do enough of the fucking up by herself, thank you kindly, and did not take well to anyone who didn't seem like they could handle that.

Rust Cohle, as it turns out, could kind of handle it. At least, she notices, he can handle most things– the exceptions being exceptional humidity and obvious displays of misplaced hubris. They watch each other often; her slyly from atop her barstool, and him openly from wherever he stood behind the bar. It seemed like a lot of the time he could hardly stomach her sitting close to him at all, even when they were across the room. Once, when she was admittedly a little too drunk for a girl who was meant to be in charge of herself, she dropped a shot glass and nearly fell from her perch trying to retrieve the shattered pieces. She looked up to find his stare already fixed on her, whites showing in his eyes like a frightened dog. He was by her side in an instant, batting her hands away and calling her a "messy little thing", which she would have found insulting, if it weren't a little too accurate. But then he checked her palms for cuts and held his hand between the bar and her head when she got up, so she couldn't be too sure he didn't just feel bad for her. She would take it though, either way it was offered. She would never tell him to his face, but she was getting lonely out at her grandparents' house with only the coyotes for company. She liked too much being around to ever tell him to quit barking at her or rolling his eyes when she asked for a pen to do her crosswords with.

It's a Saturday night the first time she loses her grip. Condensed down to one or fifteen seconds, when she laughs loud at something another regular has said. At the sound of air pressed forcefully through Rust's nose in a poor imitation of a laugh, she looks up at him. Her glassy, liquor-slicked eyes, pupils big as the fuckin' moon, begging and begging with no end in sight. Her gaze darting over his face like she can't quite decide where best to fix it– and goddammit if that doesn't just tear him all up inside.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, girl?" He asks, and another of those half-not-laughs falls out.

"Dunno, Rust, wanna find out over dinner sometime?" she fires it back so quick it leaves him a little stunned, a fish whacked out of water. In lieu of a reply, he slides her beer away from her and sets a glass of water down in its place, though she pouts prolifically when he does.

"Prob'ly better if you get on home, little doggy, " he says, soft and condescending even with a corner of his mouth turned up the way it is.

"'M not little anymore, Rust, fuck's sake," she mumbles, taciturn and petulant even this deep in her drink.

"Go get some air, girl, I'll be out quick to drive you home," he tells her, casual like he didn't already know she'd been hoping and wishing for it all night, "and don't go pitching a fit about it. 'S fuckin' pourin' out there and you'd drown yourself in a thimble of rain if I don't."

The screen door in front slams quickly, and will catch you in the back of the head if you're not quick about getting in before it. Dani doesn't tell him this because she is very busy with falling over the threshold in a fit of giggles, bride to her own amusement at Rust having to shuffle her in like someone's feeble old grandma. He is rather short of patience at this hour, and she can feel herself dancing over top his last nerve, but she finds it honestly pretty funny so she makes a lot of stupid faces and asks twice if he'll tuck her in. She's not been sleeping in a bed in the house because they all make her feel a little too sad lately, so she makes a bee line for the couch in the center of the front room, like a rock face she's dead set to crashing on. Rust lets her fall into it– helps her, even, letting loose his grip on her arms to let her splay onto the cushions and roll her ruddy cheek down deep in the throw pillow. Her hair stuck to her face and her breathing slightly shallow, his fingers itch with the desire to check her pulse, to fret over her. Instead he keeps his hands to himself and watches, impassive, as she makes a valiant attempt at rucking her shorts down over her knees to kick them off, making no effort to help. His watching feels like something else, she thinks sluggishly, like a hot lick of fever climbing down her spine and sticking there as a burr would. When she notices him staring, she offers up her dopiest, softest smile, and slurs

"Rust. If you're gonna stand there all night, I won't stop you but first could you go grab me some sleep shorts out of the chester draws? First door on the left at the top of the stairs," she swallows, thick as honeyed night, "please."

The wiry automaton of his body clicks into action: mouth softly closing, limbs lurching into their movement, all economy and surprise.

He returns with her gray shorts, ratty things with the elastic long gone to dust, and sets them down on the coffee table. He turns around, all precious and respectful now that they're alone, and lets her put them on.

When he hears her settle and finally turns around, it's to find her already asleep, her cheeks flushed and limbs spread across the sofa like a child exhausted from the heat.

Sunday morning, she awoke neatly tucked under an afghan with a glass jar of water and two ibuprofen on the coffee table in front of her. Looking at the clock above the door, cogs clicking in the dim apartment of her skull, she realized with quite a start that if she wasn't dressed and ready in exactly 7 minutes, she was going to be rather unfashionably late for Sunday service.

Imagining the looks of misplaced pity from the faces of grandmothers and their daughters and their daughters' daughters was enough to light a decent fire under her ass. She dressed quickly, brushed her sticky teeth to rid them of the scent of stale beer and Black Velvet and was out the door toward the truck with 30 seconds to spare. Her hair, regrettably, was a mouse nest when she checked it in the rearview.

On the drive in, she remembered vaguely that Rust had brought her home late last night but had not, thankfully, stuck around quite long enough for her to embarrass herself any further than she had expected to. She had come to know herself when drinking anything harder than a Shirley temple to be rather childish, with an attitude and a neediness about her to rival some mothers' babies. She could be a sore loser when Robert would walk her like a dog in Rummy, and would play too many Mel Carter songs in a row on the jukebox. This last behavior never failed to put a very unreadable look on Rust's face, like she was leading herself to the gallows & he knew it. There was nothing to be done about her nature now, she supposed, except to apologize to whomever had to suffer it. Used to be her grandparents would correct her, sometimes sternly, but she could always weasel her way out of trouble if she put on the right pair of puppy eyes– now there was no one to set her straight over their knee and make her see sense.

Service was a fine, if a little lengthy, affair with a lot of the old biddies fanning themselves in the heat and cooing over her bruised up knees. She explained (falsely) that she had been moving some of Papa's things back in from the shed, and, arms full, had tripped up the porch steps. Feeling a little poorly about lying in church, she reasoned that telling them she'd come home drunk and tripped over her own threshold would have been inappropriate pew chatter, so it was okay for her to bend the truth into a sweeter shape once in a while.

Leaving church, she decided to stop by Hank's for groceries– mostly because she wanted something to make her feel productive, though she knew she was bound to spend her afternoon (and likely evening) walking around in the creek and reading on the porch. She was clear out of bread, and running dangerously low on the honey cereal she'd taken a liking to. Eggs, she knew, she could trade a neighbor for, so she treated herself to an orange dreamsicle in their place. When she was younger, and Mammy would take her here, she never said no to books or puzzles, but could always deny her granddaughter candy or toys. Now, it seemed, Dani had more books than she could reasonably read in years, and was of the mind that denying herself pleasure of this kind was a punishment she had not earned.

In the breakfast aisle, a feeling not dissimilar to a flight response catches her by the tail of her hair and will not let her go. She moseys slow like, taking her time to draw him out, entertaining herself with all the little barbs she might stick him with. Things like "you followin' me, mister?" or "funny meetin' you here, I thought you lived off coffee, cigarettes, and switch grass." But she didn't really have anything too smart to say when he finally sidled up next to her while she was fretting over cereal.

Her eyes darted to his hands, slung under the weight of the blue basket in his grip– sinewy, calloused– and then up to his shirt collar, chin, face, then eyes. She had to take it in little leaps else she'd get shy and find a way to leave before she'd said her piece.

"'M sorry you had to see me home last night. Didn't mean to get ornery, so. It won't happen again." It's soft, coming out her mouth, like they were the only people in the room.

"'S alright, just seems like someone oughta look after you once in a while," he says, just as quiet, as if talking to himself. The hum of the lights gets a little too loud and she can't quite think all the way, so her words come out rushed,

"How come you don't go to church?"

"I don't really fuss about with god." This surprises her, for some reason. She felt she knew his way, a little, how he looked at everything through the lens of dutiful futility. It stands to reason he wouldn't really bother with something so nebulous and unfixed, but for all she knows he's a thing flung straight down from outer space so she doesn't follow the thought too far.

"Well, me neither, except I like the singing, and Mammy always made me go. Just seems like the thing to do, I guess. Don't you got a thing you do? Just 'cause you feel like you're supposed to?"

"Unfortunately, sweetheart, everything I do is 'cause I'm supposed to."

Then they don't talk, for what feels like a whole winter but is really only a minute. She finds her prize on the shelf and quickly puts it in her basket, looking at her shoes until she finds the nerve to speak again,

"I'm trying to be your friend, Rust. Are you gonna let me, or are you gonna keep up this whole 'mysterious old man with a vendetta against fun' thing?"

He chuckles at that, but doesn't exactly answer.

"Look, I'm gonna be gone a while. Not long, should be back towards the middle of the week, but I want you to stay home. I mean that. Don't come by the bar, don't go anywhere I wouldn't know to find you, okay? You stay outta trouble and we'll talk about being friends when I get back."

She rolls her eyes at the implication that she couldn't handle life and its spinning without him herding her about.

"Fine. But when you get back, you owe me a beer and a game of rummy. And you can't pawn me off on Bob, either, I'm starting to think it's personal."

"Deal." They shake hands, and he's gone. When she finally quits looking down at her hand where he held it, she grabs her milk and butter, pays the kid at the till, and heads home.

Dani knows, for the most part, how to behave. She spent so long having so little reason to lash out that the muscle memory of trouble making had practically atrophied by the time she turned 19. She spends her first day at home reorganizing the bookshelves in the living room by genre, which eats up a good 3 hours after breakfast and fills her with a terribly pleased feeling to boot. By then, she's ready for a simple lunch of a ham and cheese sandwich with an entire sleeve of tollhouse crackers, which she eats on the porch with a can of pepsi beside her. The cicadas do their screeching song all day, and when she wanders out into the yard, she finds one of their molts clung to the trunk of a live oak. Papa's voice floats into her head, and she is thrown face-first into a memory of them gathered in the kitchen one early morning, heads bowed in little prayer to examine the bugs and moths he'd pinned to a paper towel on the counter. He'd told her about the dog day cicadas, how they sleep for 7 years and come alive to feed, breed, scream, and die. He'd pointed out the luna moth, its wings frayed and flaked where he'd handled it with a little carelessness. It had looked so graceful and serene, laying with its wings fanned and pinned apart with mammy's pearl-headed sewing pins. She remembers the sadness she'd felt when he had told her they lacked mouths, and existed only by the grace of whatever nutrients they'd ingested as caterpillars. She felt a bit like that now, catapulted into life without them in the span of a year, and with no way to cherish them except in reverse. Reduced to a thing that wanted, with no way of asking.

Dani spent the rest of the first day ambling through the trees looking for bugs and leaves and interesting bits she might save to keep the memory of summer alive when the rain came and the sun stayed away longer. At night, she ate buttered noodles and pinned her findings in a shadowbox she'd gutted, hunched over the kitchen table tweezing antennae and legs into place. When she felt herself growing sleepy, she walked the few paces to the sofa, and fell onto it with all the grace of a foal in its first hours. She dreamt that night that she'd forgotten her name, and was standing in the middle of her empty high school.

The second day passed much differently– the hours stretched their long fingers out toward the sun and took their dandy time to pass. She was restless, and it was hot, and she felt a searching inside her that could not be sated by any of the near dozen books she tried out. By 1pm she was packing a small lunch (ham and cheese again, with the last sleeve of crackers) and walking back through the trees behind the house to the creek. Toeing off her shoes and slipping off her dress, she slipped down into that cool, murky wet. She floated on her back in the middle a while, watching the canopy shiver apart to let the sunlight through in lacelike patterns on the surface of the water. Eventually, she uprighted herself and walked along the bank looking for a salamander or a frog, something alive she might find companionship with. It ended up being fruitless, which ratcheted up that irritable itch and culminated in a single misstep over an algae-slicked stone and sent her straight down backward onto her ass. Her eyes welling with frustrated tears, she laid there stunned with her tailbone throbbing something fierce for a good ten minutes. When her self pity ran dry and she remembered she was the only one around who could kiss it better, she gathered up the lunch she'd neglected to eat and went straight back to the house for a hot shower, or perhaps a nap on the sofa.

She woke around 6pm with all her bones feeling fused together at the joints, and a small puddle of drool on the throw pillow beneath her cheek. It was with a sense of delirious urgency that she climbed from her makeshift bed and upstairs to the bathroom, and upon flicking the light, noticed her hair had dried down in such a horrendous tangle she sat down on the floor and started to cry. She cried because she missed her Mammy and her Papa, because her body hurt, and because she was struck with the painfully sudden and obvious realization that she really was on her own now. She cried because she felt stupid, and small, and rather lonely here in this house she loved but felt guilty being in for some reason.

Eventually, the tide of her sobbing had slowed and she crawled over to the drawer to fish out her hairbrush, and set about making sense of the nest that had settled on her head. When it was done, and with great effort at that, she turned on the shower as boiling hot as it would go, and sat herself down to spend the better part of half an hour feeling put out and morose before she even picked up the shampoo. It was a quick affair after that, as she didn't really love having pruny fingers.

The boredom reaches a fever pitch around 10:30, untempered by two failed attempts at knitting and one batch of lemon muffins. Everything Dani has done in the last fourteen hours to restore a sense of normalcy has come spitting furiously back into her face, and she really truly feels like something in her is fixing to hatch. It's beginning to feel like an undoing, and she's uncomfortable, so she laces up her stupid shoes and walks the stupid half-mile to Doumain's. She curses Rust the whole way, scrunches up her nose and spits at his voice in her head telling her to stay put, like a dog that don't know any better than to leap out the door. She feels hot and itchy again, and she made up promises– one she did try hard to keep, but again her nature won out– and he said he'd be back by mid week. It's coming on 11 on a Tuesday, so she reckons she's close enough to compliance for fulfilling her end of a crummy deal. And anyway, she's fighting mad for nothing and wants a beer and a furious game of cards with Bob to soften up all the little hard upset parts of her.

When she arrives, it's unnaturally rowdy for a weeknight. The pool tables are full, and there isn't a spot for her at the bar until she catches Bob's eye and he makes another regular– Mason, her useless brain supplies– move out of the way to let her claim her usual spot. No crosswords tonight, she sets a deck of cards and a wad of folded ones on the bar-top between them. The other bartender is here tonight in Rust's place– she's only ever seen him once, and he wasn't all that nice, but neither is Rust, so her demeanor doesn't have to change all that much after all. She orders a tallboy of Lonestar and a shot of Black Velvet because no one will stop her, and she can't help herself, especially now. Bob gives her a sidelong look she's seen before, one that says she's skating on thin fuckin' ice, but she knocks back her shot like it owes her rent without meeting his eye. Her evening irons back out and starts to feel normal, if a little lackluster since Rust isn't around for her to pester and push. She really did think she might get away with coming here despite her instructions until one of those stupid dishwater-blond fucks– Amos or Andrew, the one with too-green eyes– comes over and starts inching in on her, thinking she won't notice. She tried out doing the right thing, angling her body away from him hoping he'd get the message and go find his luck somewhere else. He doesn't. Instead, he uses a knee to turn the seat of her seat of her barstool around to face him and says,

"What're you doin' over here all by your lonesome, baby? Come play with us, I'll buy you a fruity little drink if you want, somethin' to wet that," he looks down at her mouth, leans close and lecherous and rancid, "whistle."

"No, thank you. Bob and I are gonna play some cards, you're gonna go circle jerk with your friends, and we'll steer nice and clear of each other." Her brows and fingers knit together, holding herself in by the edges because she's honestly a little afraid she might bite him or scream or throw something. His answering smile comes, satisfied and too close for comfort that it makes something in her burn scalding and bright.

"Oh, come on, don't be such a sourpuss. Go a round with us and we'll see where the night takes us, hmm?"

Her fist connects with his left orbital socket before she even decides it should. His whole body ripples away at the impact– the desired effect– and while on his back foot she watches his eyes widen with the realization. Then he's on her, screaming and aiming for her neck. Dani feels, in this moment, a far off panic. Fights never really found her too easily, since she had a habit of keeping to herself (except, obviously, on this occasion). It's all she can do to flail about with closed fists until something lands or someone steps in to free her. And intervene, someone does: Mason, who despite having his seat stolen not twenty minutes ago comes to her rescue by pulling the kid off her by his collar like a rowdy kitten. She lies there, staring at the water stains on the ceiling, until Mason's face floats into her periphery and she's pulled to sitting. Her face feels sticky and hot all over, and her lashes are clumped together making it hard to blink up at the few faces looking down at her. She finds Bob's eyes, and the first words out of her mouth are,

"Please don't tell Rust."

He laughs, shakes his head, and offers her a hand which she takes to stand on her wobbly legs. Assuming she's being shown the door, she heads that direction only to be stopped by a hand on the crook of her elbow. She turns to face Bob, and his face is caught between a look of wonder and pity. He nods toward the back door, and she follows, head turned down towards her shoes. The soundtrack to Tuesday night clicks back to life and everyone goes back to their business as they exit the building. He fumbles with the spigot on the wall, and his hankie is removed, wetted, then used to roughly dab the drying blood off her lips and nose. Even in the bare moonlight, she sees it come away dark. She's heard Bob speak on so few occasions, she nearly misses it when he mumbles,

"Don't you go pickin' fights you don't know goddamn well how to win, missy. You're lucky Rust ain't here, he'd have probably hauled off and killed that kid." Her face burns at that, and not from the cut.

"I-I'm sorry, Bob, really. I just-he was being gross and it kinda happened before I knew any different what my hands were up to. Won't happen again, you know I'm not that type of girl."

He doesn't reply, but the "maybe you oughta think about that first next time" hangs in the air, limp and useless now.

He lets her into an apartment attached to the bar near the back door, which she sort of knew about but assumed was where he lived. There was hardly anything in it– no dishes on the sink or mess on the counters– until they got to the bedroom. The only evidence she could see that would lead her to believe it was occupied was a full-sized mattress on the floor, covered in a white flat sheet, and a pile of Louisiana history text books in the corner beneath the window.

"Sleep it off in here for tonight. There's a quilt in the hall closet if you need it, and the washroom's just next door."

He's gone out the door before she can thank him. She looks at the bed, and the moonlight coming through the blinds onto it. She could sleep, she thinks. She should. Grabbing the quilt from the hall closet– hard to miss, it was the only thing in there– she wraps it around herself, toes off her shoes, and lays down on the bed. Curled on her side, stray tears dripping across the still-bloody bridge of her nose onto the sheet, she falls asleep.

Rust gets home at 3:27AM, and Bob is waiting up for him, smoking a cigarette at the bar. It's not exactly uncommon, but he's usually back a little closer to sunrise and the time Bob usually gets up for the day, so he cocks his head to a 45° and asks,

"What're you doin up so late?"

"Just don't say I never told you nothin'."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Robert. Goodnight."

"Suit yourself," he mutters, "shitheel."

Rust rolls his eyes but goes to unlock the door to his apartment without further comment. His keys clatter on the breakfast nook, and when he pads into the bedroom he finds her there, face crusted up with snot and dried blood. He finds her there, asleep on his mattress on the floor with her hands tucked up under her chin like a pair of swans. Close together, too, as if they were in quiet conversation about the day they'd had. He sighs, deeply, and heads back out to the sofa.

[cyclone-rachel]

thoughts on The Boys, season 4

Episode 7:

oh god it’s the puppets again

I feel like they did the puppets thing because in universe A-Train and whoever else were not around

oh boy this is a propaganda special

nooooooo

thank you, Ryan, you’re not fully brainwashed yet

What’s that mean?

Sage looking stunning as always

oh no they’re keeping her out of meetings that’s no good

not the Homelander NFTs

she has a point

“Daisy Duck Dynasty” is an incredible nickname

sure you fuckin do

the sixth? oh hell no

he writes poetry now?

You’re gonna kill that octopus if you keep it out like that

does the octopus have the ability to read

are Annie and her mom okay

Noooooo

Hell yeah Annie you tell her

I mean, for fun stuff in bed

Thank you, Hughie

You say that like you didn’t cut off his leg

Glad he figured that out

Oh so he does have standards

Oh welcome back, glad you got out of prison

That’s a colorful phrase

Is Kimiko ever not gorgeous?

haha, Butcher

How did that get in there?

Homelander is gonna break that photo if he finds it

is Ashley okay

She’s not wrong

Yeah, she needs to calm down

shut up, Kessler

goddammit, not again

Who is that?

okay what’s going on

ooooooooh right, the spoiler

You sure do

He’s also not wrong

is it not for both

That is just gross

Ew!

So is she turned on by that, or…

Love you, Kimiko, you tell him

oooooh

Damn

Yes, healthy communication!

Does she really?

Oh no

is Victoria okay

She looks dead inside

SHIT

here we go

He really hasn’t changed

what a fucking asshole! Beat his ass, Annie!

So now Noir is good in a fight

They’re just trashing the whole place

A-TRAIN!!!

Kick their asses

Oh hell yeah

Bet that felt good

They’re gonna need a new hideout

So he’s a hypocrite, then

Ashley just needs a friend

Didn’t need to phrase it that way

what airport is that?

Shut up, Firecracker

Oh no is she gonna be okay

Thank you, Sage

So what is your plan?

Glad she isn’t gonna die

And who’s that?

Ha, the Maeve notebook

Oh shit

Get out of there already

NO

Kimiko noooooooooo

She trusts him so much

Gosh, the baby leg

Thank you, MM

This is not gonna go well

Love that they exclude A-Train and Sage, perfectly on-brand for them

Thank you, Ryan

He’s speaking directly to Homelander here, and/or Butcher

The objectively correct way to make s’mores.

Fuck yeah, Ryan!!!

Oh no not again

Like I said, fun stuff in bed

Is that her laptop

Noooooo

Ew!

[arcplaysgames]

As everyone settles in, the discussion turns sad because it turns out, uh, besides Yusuke (hilariously) everyone is leaving?

Reverie is going home in a month as his probation is over. Morgana decides he's going with him, because they are soulmates. Ryuji is changing schools to one closer to a rehab center in hopes of working on his knee. Ann is going to study abroad. Makoto and Haru were looking at apartments for college. Sumire will be out training and touring. And Futaba got into high school.

So everyone is abandoning Yusuke which I think means he's going to starve to death or walk directly into the lake because he saw a beautiful bird. Farewell, my beloved Yusuke.

Considering this game has some kind of direct sequel, I wonder if all this "going our separate ways" shit will stick lmao.

Obligatory Valentines Day. The dateless wonders hang out at Leblanc.

Understatement of the year, Ryuji, do you SEE that double breasted coat? He's gorgeous.

MORGANA YOU TOOK THE WORDS OUT OF MY FUCKING MOUTH

my god at least Ryuji is considering the possibility of maybe growing as a person just a bit. Only took up a hundred and nineteen fucking hours.

GIRI-CHOCO YO!!!! Reverie gets chocolates from Ryuji, Sae, Ann, Tae, Haru, Kawakami, Hifumi, and Futaba. Amusingly, Ryuji's restores 10SP. Everyone else's restore 100SP. Which just feels right.

Why did Yusuke not give me chocolate. 8C Sad.

Valentine's Day is whatever, but I love White Day.

So Reverie and Morgana decide to get Sojiro fucking flowers.

Sojiro is lowkey but clearly touched by the gesture, and I PROMISE YOU that I don't even need to see all the other White Day options in the game, I know this one is the one I like best. He took Reverie in, protected him, fed him and taught him to cook, and took him in explicitly as family.

Sojiro deserves this. I love you Sojiro. Sorry for making fun of you like 300 posts ago.

THAT SAID Sojiro is like "NEXT YEAR though you need to have someone else to give them to."

Well, Sojiro, unfortunately Reverie's boyfriend died twice, so it'll probably take him a while to get over that. What's he supposed to do, just hook up with any mean boy he meets on the street? They don't make 'em like Goro fucking Akechi.

Then time jumps to the day before Reverie leaves and of course the game lets you go say goodbye to everyone.

Only a few really stick out to me. Sojiro's is one. Reverie gives him the probation diary that has serves as the save/load log for the entire game. There is this quiet moment as Sojiro looks at it and promises to keep it safe. All of Reverie's secrets in the hands of his dad (boogie woogie woogie).

Lavenza gives Reverie the key to his cell, noting that due to all the Horsefuckery that was going on with Yarblegarble that he was the first visitor to the Velvet Room who was not given his key. He was not treated as a guest like he should have been. But he freed himself, and the key is his talisman, proof he can escape any bondage.

I love Lavenza. Not at much as Margaret but probably more than Liz. Maybe because Lavenza didn't routinely let people into Mementos to wander around until they die. Goddammit Liz.

I went. I hoped. But of course not.

But I did manage to talk to the Jazz Club owner, who remembered Reverie and Akechi going to the club. Which leads Reverie to remember something himself.

My fight with him isn't over yet.

what the fuck does that mean. Reverie is going to kick down the door to hell going "WHERE IS AKECHI? WHERE IS HE?"

I love you, you're great, be safe. /hugs tora tightly

YUSUKE FUCKING GIVES REVERIE HIS PRIZE-WINNING PAINTING, "DREAMS AND HOPE"

yusuke, god. in another life. in another life that wasn't developed by fucking Atlus and SEGA. you and me, okay? i love you, please go see Sojiro if you get hungry, he'll take care of you.

I love you, too, Futaba. To this day, I am stunned at how good of a character you are despite every trope that should be set up against you. Thank you for being the best annoying little sister.

Sojiro wipes away tears as Reverie leaves, once and for all.

So Makoto just... owns a bus???? And everyone shows up to drive Reverie to the train station. Why does Makoto have a bus? Gosh, maybe that would have been in her SLink if I did, like, a single rank of it, lmao. Anyway.

For Unexplained Reasons that we are just gonna have to handwave, the fuzz are still tracking the Thieves I guess? So everyone decides to split up.

I just smiled so fucking wide. I was afraid this would end without anything on Maruki, and my hope was that he would get out of psience and psychiatry and start over.

And it seems he has. Honestly, taxi cabbing is a fantastic pick for him. He's good at gentle conversations and leading people to talk but not pushing them. Anything with that kind of thing, from hairdresser to driver, is a good fit for him.

I have a couple of favorites in this game but Maruki is on another level due to how phenomenal his writing and voice acting is. Sir, it has been a pleasure.

Everyone meets back up for a fast goodbye at the train station before the police are still???? chasing them???? wait maybe makoto DOESN'T have her license and instead she stole this van and that's the problem. Yep, headcanon accepted.

In the end, Persona 5 Royal is the story of a boy and his cat versus the world. What more could you want out of an ending?

HOLY SHIT AKECHI IS ALIVE

NOW THAT IS A FUCKING STINGER, BABY

THAT'S SHIN MEGAMI TENSEI: PERSONA 5: THE ROYAL. THE STORY OF REVERIE VANTAS THE FIFTH IS A CLOSE, CHEERS! TIP YOUR WAITERS!

[auxiliarydetective]

Out of the Well

More Lux and Zoro? More Lux and Zoro.

Enjoy!

Zoro panted heavily, eyes fleeting between trying to find a new crevice to cling on to and gazing up into the moonlight. Only maybe two or three feet more then he’d be free. First, he’d have to find his swords and then he had to warn the others. Suddenly, he noticed a shadow creep in front of the moon. When he looked up, he was staring right into Jirou’s face. In his shock, he lost his grip along the slippery wall of the well. Just when he thought he was about to fall, he felt Jirou’s hands around his wrist, digging into his flesh. Once again, he was entirely stunned.

“Are you just gonna hang there or what?” Jirou growled, a strain on his voice.

Quickly, Zoro tried to catch his footing again and take some of his weight off Jirou’s shoulders. After all, he was sure to be significantly heavier than this twink of a man.

“Don’t pull me down there with you.”

With heavy breathing and straining muscles, clinging on to Jirou whenever possible just as he clung on to him, Zoro finally managed to climb out of the well, resting against the damp wall as he tried to catch his breath. As he did, his eyes trailed across Jirou once again, like so many times before. He had left behind his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, his collar partly unbuttoned but his holster still sitting across his chest. Wet and dirty stains from Zoro’s hands were scattered across the white fabric of his shirt, making the fabric slightly transparent. For some reason, that caused a spark in Zoro’s brain, one that travelled throughout his muscles and his veins. Could just be the exhaustion… What mattered most, however, was that Jirou was carrying Zoro’s swords.

“You want those back?” he asked, seeing Zoro eye them.

“Yeah,” Zoro groaned, stepping away from the wall. “Why did you come for me?”

“Because I need your help,” Jirou said. “Sorry about the bottle thing, by the way. I hope I didn’t hit you too hard.”

“It was nothing.”

“Yeah, sure. The blood on your scalp says different.”

“Why do you want my help anyway? To kill more people?”

“I didn’t kill Merry, okay? That was Kuro. And yeah, killing might be part of it. I need you to help me save Kaya. If Kuro and the others get in the way, fair game.”

“Why should I trust you? You tried to kill me last time I saw you.”

“Goddammit,” Jirou hissed, “don’t be such a baby. I didn’t try to kill you. I literally tried to be as gentle as possible while knocking you out so it looked like you were dead but you wouldn’t actually die. How was I supposed to know they’d throw you in the well?”

“I still don’t trust you.”

“Kuro has been tricking me into thinking I was sick just like he did with Kaya. The only reason I didn’t get him yet is because I was too weak, I knew nobody would believe me and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to beat Kuro, Buchi and Sham all at the same time. – Also, I’m gonna help you save your captain.”

Now that caught Zoro’s attention. “Luffy? What did he do this time?”

“He drank a full pot of poisoned soup meant for Kaya. He’s still alive but he’s being dragged away by the Marines.”

“Fucking hell…” Zoro grumbled. He reached out his hand. “My swords.”

“That means you’ll help me, huh?”

“Yeah, just give me my swords back before that idiot gets taken off the island.”

“Good boy,” Jirou cooed with a smirk, loosening the belt with Zoro’s swords from around his hips and giving it back to the swordsman. “Follow me – and try to keep up. We’ll cut them off before the main entrance gate.”

-

Further away, on the main road, Luffy was doubled over on the ground, coughing up thick blue soup. Koby was kneeling next to him, gently rubbing his back. Finally, it seemed that all of the goo was out of his system.

“Koby,” Luffy, croaked, looking into his friend’s eyes, “I gotta go back. The butler. He’s gonna kill Kaya. And then he’s gonna go after my crew.”

But Koby only lightly shook his head.

“I’m under direct orders to bring you in,” he said pleadingly.

Luffy placed his hand on Koby’s shoulder. “You said you wanted to help innocent people. Kaya’s innocent.”

“You know what, screw this,” Helmeppo sighed, taking Koby’s attention away from Luffy. With a click, he pulled out his gun.

“Helmeppo, don’t!” Koby called, standing in the way of his shot.

“Father always said, ‘Dead pirate weighs the same as a live one.’”

“Garp gave us strict orders.”

“He gave you strict orders. – Start walking, pirate,” he told Luffy, “or die.”

Suddenly, there was a rustling in the trees surrounding Luffy and the Marines. With a growl, a large cat jumped out onto the road, right into the Marines standing at the front. With its sheer speed and strength alone, it knocked one of the soldiers over, then attacked the next, biting his arm, making him drop his rifle. With a terrified whimper, Helmeppo tried to flee the other way, but he was met by Zoro beating up the soldiers at the back, now staring him right in the face.

“Hey, haircut.”

“Wait!” Luffy called just before the cat jumped at Koby. “He’s my friend!”

To Koby’s surprise, the cat listened. It peacefully sat down on the ground and licked the blood off its muzzle, yawning and watching as Zoro knocked Helmeppo out with a single punch. Now that it was sitting still in the light of a streetlamp, Koby could tell that it was a pretty big lynx with soft-looking fur, white splotches across its body, tufted ears, and now very friendly, amber-colored eyes.

“Zoro!” Luffy happily walked over to his first mate’s side. “How’d you know where to find me?”

“I didn’t,” Zoro said. He nodded at the cat. “He did.”

“Ah. Kaya said she had a pet lynx. – Hi, Bowie! Thanks for the help, big guy.”

“Mhm. Only she lied.”

In front of their eyes, the lynx started morphing in shape, standing up straight before revealing the face of a very familiar person.

“Jirou?!” Luffy gasped.

“Hiya,” Jirou replied with a lazy two-finger salute. “And it’s Lux now, thank you.”

“You-“ Koby stammered, “you’re—”

“Uh-uh. Lux Jirou the Wildcat, formerly of the Black Cat Pirates. But now, I’m the security guard of this place, and I don’t give a shit about your orders. You wanna take these pirates with you? Well, tough luck, ‘cause they’re with me now. That butler in there, that’s Kuro of a Thousand Plans, and he’s trying to kill Kaya, and I can’t let that happen. And don’t think he’s gonna stop at just Kaya. I know him. He already killed Merry, and there are more people to follow. So, if you’re a good Marine, you’re gonna let us go, alright?”

Koby just stood there and stared, his thoughts racing in his mind, duty versus morals.

“Koby,” Luffy said decidedly yet gently, “I know you’ve got a job to do. But we’re gonna go back and help our friends. So, don’t try to stop us.”

With those words, he put his straw hat back on and ran off towards the mansion. Zoro followed right behind. Lux threw a quick smirk at Koby before setting after them, shifting into his lynx form. Within mere seconds, he was at the front of the group and shifted back to explain:

“They put the house on lockdown. We won’t get in trough the main entrance and cracking all the outside security locks would take way too long; we’ll have to take the emergency passage.”

Without even waiting for an answer, he shifted back into lynx form and jumped off the main path, leading Zoro and Luffy into the garden. They were running out of time!

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Taglist: @starcrossedjedis @oneirataxia-girl @daughter-of-melpomene @supermarine-silvally - let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

[ponyosmom35]

Wake Up

Bittersweet chapter ten

steve harrington x fem oc

synopsis: Steve tries to talk to Indie after arguing with Nancy about Barb's disappearance, he needed to apologize. However Indie doesn't take it the way he thought she would.

warnings: anger, angst, yelling, mentions of sex, oc is being out of pocket

link to master list:

https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733401347573088256/simon-ghost-riley?source=share

Steve approaches Indie, a mixture of guilt and concern in his eyes. He takes a deep breath, preparing himself for the conversation.

"Hey, Indie... Can we talk for a minute?"

She looks up at him with anger, she was in a rush to get to Nancy’s car so they could go continue their search for answers about Barb. “no” 

Steve is taken aback by Indie's immediate response, her anger obvious. He takes a step back, his expression a mix of surprise and guilt. He sighs, trying to keep his composure.

"Please, just hear me out for a second."

“I have to go” she says slamming her locker and pushing past him. They had much more important things to do besides worry about Steve.

Steve's heart sinks as Indie brushes past him, the anger in her eyes striking him to the core. He turns, watching her walk away, feeling a pang of regret in his chest. He calls out to her, desperation in his voice.

"Indie, wait!"

“What could you possibly have to say to me, Steve?” she yells, gaining the attention of her fellow students around her “did you wanna tell me about how you continuously ignored Barb when she hung with you guys?”

Steve flinches at the sharp tone in Indie's voice, her words cutting through him like a knife. He swallows the lump in his throat, guilt washing over him.

"No, it's not that... I just... I wanted to talk about that night... and Barb."

“Okay fine, why don’t you enlighten me on how you invited her to a party at your house and instead of making her feel welcome you let your friends make fun of her” 

“I’m sor-”

She cuts him off before he can continue “How about when you left her completely alone sitting by the pool so you could fuck Nancy Wheeler? My sister is missing Steve! She was taken from your house and you’ve been more worried about your parents finding out about your party than whether Barb is alive or not!” 

Steve's face falls as Indie pours her anger and frustration on him, each word hitting him harder than the last. His heart clenches at her words, guilt and shame washing over his face. He tries to speak, to defend himself, but the words die in his throat. For once, Steve Harrington finds himself speechless.

“I shouldn’t be surprised with how you’ve treated Johnathon since Will went missing. But you have the fucking nerve to treat Johnathon like a freak when he’s going through the worst thing that can happen to a family. I guess I always thought that you were better than that - but it’s clear to me that you’ve only ever cared about getting your dick wet!” she exclaims “Where were you when she needed help? Did you hear her scream or did you ignore it so that way you could finish with Nancy?”

Steve's face flushes with shame as she speaks. Her words are like daggers to his already guilty conscience. He opens his mouth, trying weakly to defend himself.

"I... I-"

Steve's voice falters as he realizes the truth in her accusations. He did fail Barb; he did ignore her when she needed him. He let his own desires overshadow her safety, knowing that there was already a kid missing in the town. 

“So wake the fuck up Harrington and get out of my way I don’t have time for this” she says pushing past him.

Steve stands there, stunned into silence by the force of her words. He can see the anger and hurt swirling in her eyes, and he knows that nothing he says can make things right.

"Goddammit," he mutters under his breath, guilt, and regret gnawing at his conscience.

The confrontation with Indie was like a sledgehammer to Steve’s chest, leaving him gasping for breath, both physically and emotionally. The way she had looked at him—eyes blazing with anger, words dripping with contempt—had struck a chord so deep it reverberated through every fiber of his being. It wasn’t just the sting of her accusations or the weight of her disappointment that affected him. It was the realization of his own failures, magnified by her intense gaze. 

Steve had always thought of himself as a guy who was, if not good, at least decent. He had a reputation—one built on the kind of charm that could smooth over most mistakes. But Indie had ripped through that veneer, showing him a reflection of himself he could no longer ignore. He had stood there, paralyzed, as she called him out on his failures. The reality of his actions—or lack thereof—hit him with a force that left him reeling.

He had never really looked at himself through someone else’s eyes before. Sure, he’d faced criticism and disapproval from others, but it was different when it came from someone like Indie. She wasn’t just anyone; she was a person who had been forced to confront the raw edge of his mistakes. The way she had reacted to him, her rage so raw and pure, made him feel like he was being examined under a microscope. Every flaw, every lapse in judgment, was laid bare, and he was left to confront the ugly truth of who he had become.

The days following that confrontation were a blur of self-reflection and self-loathing. Steve found himself replaying every moment of that conversation over and over in his mind. He couldn’t escape the image of Indie’s furious face, her accusations slicing through his defenses. It was as if her words had opened a chasm in his soul, revealing a darkness he had been too comfortable to acknowledge. 

His thoughts were haunted by the image of Indie’s eyes—those eyes that had looked at him with such pure hatred and disappointment. He couldn’t understand why, but the way she had looked at him made him want to claw his own eyes out. It was an intense, visceral reaction, as though her disdain had pierced his very sense of self. Her anger had ignited something in him that he couldn’t ignore, something that demanded change.

Steve had always been able to coast along on his charm and his reputation. He had been the guy who could get by with a smile, a joke, and a wink. But now, in the wake of Indie’s confrontation, he felt like he was stripped bare. Her words had ripped away the façade he had carefully constructed, leaving him exposed to his own failings. He had been selfish, irresponsible, and shallow. The weight of his actions—or inactions—pressed heavily on him, and he couldn’t escape the gnawing guilt that had settled in his gut.

He remembered the incident with Jonathan, the way he had broken Jonathan’s camera and how Indie had screamed at him. At the time, he had been defensive, dismissive. But now, reflecting on it, he saw it differently. Indie had been standing up for Jonathan, someone who was just as much a victim as Barb. And in that moment, Steve had been the one causing pain, adding to the suffering. It was a harsh realization, one that made him cringe every time he thought about it.

He needed to make things right. Not just for Barb, but for himself. He couldn’t stand the way Indie had looked at him, couldn’t bear the thought of being the person she had seen that day. He needed to prove to himself, and to her, that he was capable of change. He needed to be someone who was worth more than the worst of his actions.

Every time Steve thought about Barb, he was filled with a sense of dread and remorse. He knew he had failed her, had failed to protect her when she needed it the most. And now, Indie’s anger had become a catalyst for his own self-improvement. He understood that making amends was more than just about saying sorry; it was about changing his behavior, making real, tangible efforts to be better.

He started by reaching out to Jonathan, trying to mend the broken trust and offering genuine apologies. It was a small step, but it was necessary. He wanted to show that he was more than just the sum of his mistakes. He wanted to prove that he could be the kind of person who took responsibility and worked towards making things right.

As days turned into weeks, Steve’s self-reflection deepened. He grappled with his own shortcomings and tried to build a path toward redemption. It wasn’t easy, and there were moments when he wanted to give up, when the weight of his guilt felt too heavy to bear. But he kept pushing forward, driven by the need to change and by the hope that, somehow, Indie would see the effort he was making.

Every step he took towards self-improvement was a way of addressing the hurt he had caused. He knew that the road to redemption was long and fraught with challenges, but he was determined to walk it. Because more than anything, he wanted to erase the image of Indie’s disappointment from his mind, and replace it with one of respect and understanding.

Steve knew that he had a long way to go. He had to confront his own flaws, work through his guilt, and strive to become a better person. The path to redemption was uncertain and filled with obstacles, but for the first time, he was committed to facing it head-on. And somewhere along that journey, he hoped that Indie would see the change in him and, perhaps, find it in herself to forgive him.

[tobiasdrake]

Let's go spring the trap, Shinigami. We were told to come alone, but he didn't count on you. Of course, until a murder happens you're practically useless so it's not like it matters either way.

Hey, if he kills me but I don't see it happen, do we still get to go into the Mystery Labyrinth and solve the mystery of my death? Retaliatory soul-reaping?

No promises. When a man's duty calls him to die, his time is... to... death beckons at his... *trips over the curve of the ramp and faceplants into hard steel*

We've been at war with Amaterasu since Chapter 0. Where have you been?

*crosses fingers* Dead in his penthouse. Dead in his penthouse. Come on, it'd be such a cool case, after all that time establishing that no one can get in!

I mean. I. Have. The umost respect for the sanctity of life.

Oh goddammit, why are you alive!? Piss in my cornflakes and call it rain, why doncha.

Ugh. Fine. We can do this your way. Come on, Yuma, let's get in the car with the mysterious masked grown-up who's invulnerable to consequences. Look, it's even the color of amber for that special poetic touch.

Sir, I am only...

...

...

...a number of years old. Wow, you don't realize what amnesia takes away from you until you stop to think about mundane life tasks.

Yuma's stunned by this revelation but honestly, what would even be the point? If the highly recognizable Amaterasu CEO Makoto Kagutsuchi showed up to Amaterasu DMV, would you have the nerve to fail him on the driver's test?

If they're going to pass him no matter how he performs then it'd be a pointless formality to even bother going through the motions. Things work differently when you're the king.

The closer we get to it, the more this place gives me a Shinra vibe.

You can only get in or out of the compound with a biometric scan. That feels like it's going to be important. We need to keep that in mind.

Also, I'm surprised Makoto takes his mask off for something. So it does come off at times. I was beginning to think it was glued to his face.

Massive Shinra vibe. But at least they aren't draining the life essence of the planet to power the city.

...or, shit, maybe they are. We don't know where the Forever Rain fueling the hydro-electric generators came from. I shouldn't make assumptions.

At the very least, we can be confident that they will not try to make one of our friends fuck a tiger. 80% confident. 70% at the least. I... don't actually know how homunculi are made....

...Yakou should prepare himself to have a bad night. Not because of that. Well, not only because of that. But also because I'm going to try and sneak away so I can rub my ass on Yomi's desk. IT'S CALLED SPITE AND MAYBE YAKOU SHOULD TRY IT SOME TIME.

Man, Japanese evil corporate architecture is amazing. They have trees growing in their plaza. Look at all this. It's a mini-mall's worth of space dedicated to their lobby alone.

I've worked for evil megacorporations for my entire career. I was at a big-name finance institution when the economy collapsed. All we got was a small entrance area containing one lobby desk and a security guard who doesn't give a shit, and sometimes a cafeteria we can slip away to for breakfast.

I would kill to have been able to work in an environment like this. Before I worked from home, anyway. Now, if you try to make me go back to an office building, I might stab you.

That's the smell of capitalism, my man. The product of a thousand underpaid and underappreciated workers who come in the night to erase the traces of humanity left behind and sustain the illusion of an unblemished mechanism.

I'd meet them sometimes when I was pulling late hours to eliminate backlogs of work that my colleagues' lack of motivation and commitment to the organization would eventually produce. Before I got fired for not working hard enough.

Wait, would that even--

Oh, who am I kidding. This is a company town. Of course child labor is normalized.

Makoto keeps hammering this point, and he's right. This is the single most important piece of any disguise. It's Trespassing 101: If you carry yourself with confidence and act like you belong, most people won't question it.

They only become suspicious if you look out-of-place. That usually means acting like you're doing something you aren't supposed to. Though, regrettably, it can also mean "visibly being a member of a marginalized demographic", even if you in fact do belong here.

Gonna go out on a limb here and say this is probably not the Restricted Area that Kurumi was talking about earlier. Seems unlikely.

Man, the tension is so thick you can cut it with a knife. Waiting for the shoe to drop. Just. Waiting.

[darcyfangirlsfrequently]

My reactions as I watch 16.9 (I know I'm gonna hate this but here we go)

Also: I realized right before the start of this episode that I get to cross "Penelope calls Luke a nickname" off my Garvez bingo card because of "my liege," so you know what? A win is a win.

One minute in and I'm already on the verge of tears because of Krystall. But at least I'm also crossing "flashback to the missing time between seasons" off my bingo card!

Emily you have no right to look that gorgeous in this sad of a scene

Scratch that I'm not on the verge of tears, I'm actually crying. "I couldn't watch them put the coffin in the ground" GODDAMMIT

"Do you think she'll forgive me?" IT IS TOO FUCKING EARLY IN THE MORNING TO BE CRYING THIS HARD

Have we... ever seen Rossi cry before? Like, I know he was sad when Carolyn died, but did he cry? Because how hard he's crying right now is tearing my heart to absolute shreds.

"His name is agent David Rossi" Elias: FUCK that's not good

How tf is he gonna spin that Rossi is dangerous????

Tara you look stunning and I adore you

OH FUCK VOIT IS RIGHT THERE

Oh god another flashback... am I ready for this?

May 2022... and an Al-Anon meeting? Who????

Oh my god, this is how Tara and Rebecca met? And they have almost identical backstories, that's really heartbreaking.

"I have to work on myself first." Did you do that, Rebecca? How well did it work for you?

Tara and Rebecca's first-ever interaction was kind of adorable ngl

Tara, babes, did YOU of all people automatically assume her ex was a man? You, a pansexual? Who has canonically dated men and women in the past?

Rebecca standing up for the BAU??? I love to see it

Bless you, Emily, for giving Tara and Rebecca the time to talk alone

Rebecca's moving to Sacramento and I'm crying again because I just want Tara to be happy. (Tara please go cry to Luke so I can get some Platonic TarVez moments and then go make out with Emily, please I beg)

"Goodbye, darling." OUCH. WHAT THE FUCK. THAT WAS BRUTAL.

I'm actually really liking this episode so far, I'm sure that won't last though.

Sicarius saying "I've read every single one of your books" is probably going to mess with Rossi for a bit, especially since we know because of the original series that Gideon warned him something like this could happen, that Rossi was essentially writing manuals on how to get away with it.

The way he mentioned acid, which is the stuff in the last kill kit. I wonder if Sicarius is intentionally giving things away or if he doesn't know how much they know

Okay the fact that Sicarius is sometimes pulling inspiration directly from Rossi's books is going to haunt him

"Every time you write one of these books you have to be careful how much detail you include, because if you're not careful... you're giving a wannabe killer rules for killing." DID I NOT JUST SAY

"I'd almost feel sorry for that poor son of a bitch. Almost." Unpopular opinion: I love David Rossi

Sicarius mentioning Rossi's wives is gonna fuck with him

I wanna know what it is that Elias gave Rossi to "prove" he's not Sicarius

Every time Luke and Penelope are together in a frame, even if it's just for 2 seconds, I hold on to it because I need Garvez crumbs in my life

Penelope why did you LOOK OVER AT LUKE when JJ mentioned Tyler Green??????

GARCIA I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU BRING GREEN INTO THIS WHILE YOU ARE STANDING RIGHT BESIDE THE MAN WHO'S BEEN IN LOVE WITH FOR SEVEN YEARS I'M GONNA SCREAM

GODDAMMIT

The fact that Will brought in Tyler Green has me imagining that phone call from JJ, and even though JJ doesn't know everything, it's kinda funny with the context. Kinda.

I am really dreading this scene though.

Ngl that "Alvez and I" both broke my heart (bc she's not calling him "Luke") and made it soar (bc I'm taking CRUMBS)

Well, FUCK. Either Tyler Green can't identify him... or Sicarius has something on him to prevent him from identifying him. Maybe the rest of his family, like Alison's kid... or maybe Garcia? (I really want Green to be a bad dude)

The looks Luke just gave between Garcia and Green... I'm sure he's figuring it out.

Wow, Luke actually getting more than a line at once? I didn't realize the CME writers knew how to do that past the first two episodes (/s)

This little showdown between Luke and Green... I'm kind of here for it

Nooooooooooooooo Garcia do not talk to him alone, I don't want to see this!

Okay, Luke totally knows. The hatred/anger/jealousy is RADIATING off him when he looks at Green. Even when he looked at Garcia as he left. God, I hate this. If the last flashback does actually end up being the Garvez date... I'm gonna cry

"Luke is blunt, but he's not off-target" YES!!! DEFEND YOUR MAN!!!

TYLER GREEN LET GO OF HER HAND I DO NOT WANT YOU HERE

My heart is POUNDING right now, I'm so worried

Okay, I will admit, Elias is spinning a really convincing story

OH GOD DID GARCIA SEND ROSSI A VOICE MEMO MEANT FOR GREEN????

oh god oh god oh god

wait. wait wait. what if Garcia sent that message to Green, who then either made it into a phishing link and sent it to Rossi or he forwarded it to Elias who did that.

TYLER EVIL CANON?????

TYLER GREEN WHAT IN THE EVER-LOVING FUCK ARE YOU DOING WHAT IS HAPPENING?

Wait a goddamn minute... a Tyler flashback?

Tyler Green, what in the actual goddamn hell are you doing?

Oh god, with everything that Elias told his wife, when she sees Rossi in the grocery store aisle, she's gonna freak out

Going back for the alcohol 😂 valid

Rossi I know what you're trying to do, but laying out Sydney's entire life for her is NOT going to make her trust you, it's just going to make her wary of you

HE DID NOT JUST TELL HER SHE'S THE REASON ELIAS IS A SUCCESSFUL KILLER, ROSSI MY DUDE THAT IS FUCKED UP

Oh god are we about to have Luke confront Garcia about seeing Tyler Green? My heart isn't ready. (wait fuck I just remembered that in one of the Garvez ads of social media the caption was "our hearts aren't ready." IS THIS WHAT THEY MEANT???) My heart is POUNDING

"Yikes, you mean it, mean it." LUKE STOP BEING ADORABLE WHEN I KNOW MY HEART IS ABOUT TO BREAK AND SO IS YOURS

Oh god if Luke didn't know before then he definitely knows now. I'm actually shaking.

"We need to talk, you and me." Hanging on to Garvez crumbs even though I know I will be sobbing in the next five minutes

JEALOUS LUKE CANON??? FINALLY???

"Come on, him?" jealous Luke canon and my heart is breaking

"He is marvelous in bed" DID YOU REALLY JUST SAY THAT TO LUKE??? TO LUKE???

Luke trying desperately not to imagine her in bed

"And I need a friend and you're the only one" YEAH AND HE'S ALSO KIND OF YOUR EX, BABES

"Sounds like I'm the last one." OUCH. OUCH. OUCH.

"I just gotta say one thing, all right?" oh god it's gonna be something about them and I'm not okay

"You sure know how to pick 'em." Okay, not what I expected

GARCIA YOU ACTUALLY NEED TO SHUT THE FUCK UP

That scene was ATROCIOUS. But at the same time... weirdly cathartic? I mean it has effectively ruined any hopes I have of Garvez happening, if there were any remaining at all, but at least now I have closure? Sort of?

"Well maybe I am devolving. My career is over, what the hell have I got to lose?" ROSSI WHAT?????? HUH????

Okay, as much as this episode is killing me a bit, I do actually really like it. Like... it's probably the best writing they can do with the shit storylines they've been set up with

Rossi, HOW could you have thought that this was a good idea?

Ooh, and Elias flashback! This is gonna be interesting.

We still have yet to see the third team member flashback, and I'm almost certain it is in fact going to be the Garvez date and I am not ready, but at least I'll have correctly guessed who the three were.

I have to do a separate block of text now, i've written so many notes😂

Look, I know people aren't the biggest fans of Rossi and were kind of upset that we were getting a Rossi-centric episode, but I do not mind. Yes, I'd like a focus on other characters (Luke and Tara) but I still like Rossi.

Okay, so is Tyler Green evil, or is he just hunting down Sicarius to kill him himself? Because if he is evil... I kinda wanna see what happens to Garcia. Who she turns to. Because right now Luke is the only one who really knows everything, and he understandably does not seem like he's in a very comforting mood

Garcia's about to play the message for the entire team and then they're all going to know but it might reveal if Green is actually bad or not. This is giving me flashbacks though to when Scratch cloned Garcia's phone to lure Morgan out.

Lol watch Emily have to suspend Garcia and then the old character who comes back is KEVIN 😂😂😂

EMILY KNOWSSSSSSSSSS

EVERYBODY KNOWSSSSSSSSSSS

(Please give me a Platonic TarVez scene of Tara comforting Luke PLEASE i beg)

Are we about to get our Missing Character Cameo or is it just going to be Will?

"I have to take a leak" "Too bad" did I laugh out loud at this

Elias roasting Rossi about being old is SENDING ME 😂😂😂

Tyler Green what are you doinggggg

Okay so Will and JJ in the field together, I kind of love, but the fact then that since they're obviously sitting beside each other because they're literally married means that GARVEZ Garcia and Luke are sitting beside each other... the tension in that jet must be palpable

TYLER GREEN EVIL CANON???? FR???

Okay so no, I was right, Green is just trying to get to Voit first.

"He looked me right in my face and he lied to me." Garcia, absolutely no one feels bad for you right now.

"Which is what I get for falling for someone with an avoidant attachment style" GIRL YOU'VE KNOWN HIM FOR LIKE 2 WEEKS AND YOU'RE ALREADY SAYING YOU'VE FALLEN FOR HIM???

At least if Garvez is over then Greencia seems to be pretty over too

Luke comforting her anyway... god he really is still in love with her, huh? I mean, this is now how I thought I'd get to cross "she's crying and he comforts her" off my bingo card, but I'll take it

Okay I keep bouncing back and forth on if Green is a bad guy or not

DID ROSSI JUST SPIT IN SICARIUS'S FACE??????????

TYLER GREEN WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK ARE YOU DOING?

GREEN JUST GOT SHOT GODDAMN

Well Greencia's DEFINITELY over now

IT'S THE GARVEZ DATE FLASHBACK AM I READY I THINK THE FUCK NOT

Although this does allow me to cross off "flashback to the Garvez date" off my CME bingo card and "details about their date" off my Garvez bingo card, both things I thought would never happen

Why is it so awkward 😭

Luke is so dressed up I love him

ohh fuck I knew it was Covid that messed them up. Hey, Luke word of advice, don't talk about weird viruses on a first date

"It's not like the world's gonna shut down." well that aged poorly

I hate this I actually hate this why is this so weird

Luke ordering two more glasses of wine for himself I don't whether to laugh or cry. Probably both.

"It felt so good when you asked me out but I'm finding this to be very clunky" @snailsandpuppy-dogtails HOW IN GOD'S FUCKING NAME DID YOU PREDICT THIS ALMOST ENTIRELY IN YOUR TARVEZ BEER FIC

"What were we thinking?" YOU WERE THINKING THAT YOU'RE IN LOVE AND HAVE BEEN FOR YEARS, GODDAMMIT

"Can I share my truth with you?" "When have you ever not" I'M SORRY THAT'S ADORABLE

"I find it very hard to have a conversation with you when I am not dunking on you" that is a LIE. That is a LIE. I have RECEIPTS.

"With us, there absolutely is something there but not that." LIES. LIES. ALL OF IT.

This is making me so upset because there is not an actual world where they would not work out, this is absolute bullshit

"I know that your person is out there" YEAH AND IT'S YOU STFU

"I know that my person is out there" YEAH AND IT'S HIM STFU

"Where?" He desperately wants this to work out and my heart is breaking

"To finding the right person" NO. YOU FOUND THEM. YOU FOUND EACH OTHER. FIRST DATES ARE AWKWARD. IT HAPPENS. WHY WOULD YOU LET THAT STOP FOUR YEARS OF PINING OVER HER????

Why would they show us that scene out of nowhere? Like, Luke and Garcia weren't present before it started and now we're back in the field, it doesn't make a lot of sense.

I know my Garvez hopes should be crushed... but I can't help but think/hope that maybe this is setting up for them to try again

The audacity this episode has to be the most and least Garvez-y

Luke still looking out for Garcia and Green now... and him calling Green "Lieutenant..." the world does not deserve this man

Noooooooooooooo I thought Greencia was over but she's talking about having a future with him 😭😭😭

REBECCA HOLDING TARA'S HAND 😭😭😭

And now they know Rossi's been kidnapped

Overall thoughts? Not bad. I mean I hate how awkward the Garvez date was, and I don't like Greencia, but overall... this wasn't really that bad of an episode.

[sharkgal-97]

Oh btw lil story i did with my ocs lol

A date over the alps

Back in 1999, Dan and Abba were going around in their Panda when Dan asked the driver: "dude... you know you look so cute when you're driving..?"

The driver responds with: "That is so sweet of you, but i can't elaborate because i'm trying not to crash here". It was 1 am.

How did they get there?

It started the day before that. It was 7 am. The two were with Giulia and Gio having breakfast, when dan proposed to cross the country border and kill some time in France.

Gio and Giulia said no, because they had something else in mind for the day. Abba said yes because, well... He likes driving. Also he wanted to see France and taste an authentic crepe.

So the two boys hopped on the Pandino at 10 and went west.

"So, have you ever been in Monte Carlo?" Asked Dan.

"First time. It may seem weird, but i've never been there. There's a distant cousin of mine there, but he's the one that usually comes down for Christmas."

"Oh, does he know some french?"

"Maybe."

About 20 minutes later, dan said that he missed Paris.

"You miss what?" asked Abba surprised.

"Paris. I've been there once and i just miss going out in the street and see the "iron asparagus" pop up among the other buildings. I also miss the french."

Abba gave his boyfriend a concerned stare. "Dan are you good?"

"Yes, yes. I'm weird i know.

But still, i just miss the weird "r" and the u's that have like ten different characters after them that get ignored when pronounced"

"I guess weird al wasn't as weird as you."

"Thanks, Abba."

They laughed a bit.

"You know what i just realized? We still haven't changed our money"

"Aaaah don't you worry, Abba. We have powers!"

"You're right."

Silence.

After some time, they get to the border. They bribe the guards and wave them goodbye. They find themselves in Monte Carlo. They could go spit on some Lamborghinis or go buy something to eat. So they did both.

They went in a bar after the spitting and tire destroying session. Abba finally saw why Dan missed France. Dan's french was so fluid that the author's gender in comparison would look solid as cement.

He got one pepsi while his boyfriend got a lemon soda.

"Did you live in france?" Abba asked him, stunned.

"For uuuh... Three months..?"

"THREE MONTHS??? AND YOU SPEAK FRENCH THIS GOOD???"

"Yes, i had the full immersion. i also studied french in middle school."

"Oh."

And they spent one hour in there, casually chatting.

"How about we go in Paris?" Proposed Abba.

"We're not using the Panda, are we?"

"No, no. We'll use our magic universe bending powers."

So he just snapped his fingers and they found themselves in front of the Eiffel tower.

Dan was completly stunned, petrified. It was standing there, in all of its rusty glory.

"Why the fuck are there scaffoldings all over the asparagus?" Asked Dan, confused.

"Oh! I heard they're putting a gigant display for the new millenium's arrival!"

"Why are they doing it in august?"

"I guess that screen is as big as the next millenium."

"Plausible."

The two started walking around, they saw the Louvre (goddammit they forgot the mona Lisa), the champs d'eliseé (idk how to spell that), the metro signs and hopped in the Moulin rouge.

Much, much later, they were walking along the seine, watching the Eiffel tower shining and glimmering in all of its golden glory and the various lights reflected on the waters.

"Say, Abba. Don't you find this romantic?" Asked Dan.

"Yes..." Replied Abba.

"Dude you good?" Asked Dan, worried.

"Yes, yes... I'm just thinking...

I've been with you for a somehow short time now, and this is the most romantic thing anyone can ever do... why did you do this this early?"

"Well... Let me tell ya, Abba. 24 years from now, we might be sitting in a house, maybe in Pavia or somewhere else and you'll be thinking about this moment, this place, these very footsteps we took... a smile will appear on your face..."

They stopped, gazing at the golden tower.

"...and each time you'll see a picture of this landscape, you'll immediately think of this love we had."

"This is... So poetic..." Said Abba.

"Now, shall we kiss..?" Asked Dan.

Abba quickly turned his head to him. The two were looking into eachother's eyes, still seeing the lights all around them, and they slowly got closer... Closer... Closer... And their lips finally touched. A warm feeling captured the two boys, as they were feeling their touch and their smell, completly isolating them from the enviroment.

That moment... Was so long, yet short...

They slowly opened their eyes...

Then Abba hugged him thightly.

"I've never been this glad to have met anyone in my life before. Thank you so so much for being with me!" Said Abba, with a big smile on his face.

"You're so precious... I will protect you with every cell of my body." Said Dan, patting Abba's head.

So, the two spent part of the night there, walking hand in hand along the the river, until Midnight came.

Then Dan used his mighty powers to get them both back to Monaco and hop on the Panda.

And that leads us here.

What next..?

Oh, they Simply got home, shared some moments together and kissed eachother goodnight. Even if they slept in the same bed.

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 225

Inside Man/Kill the Moon

“Inside Man”

Plot Description: Sam and Castiel set out on a mission to find a cure for the Mark of Cain, and Crowley’s relationship with Rowena is put to the rest

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: No one died

Goddammit, let Bobby rest!! He earned that

(Cut to 24 hours earlier)

It’s a good thing the brothers know each other like that because Sam wanting to go off to some other city to see a foreign film on their off day is not convincing me as the viewer. How that convinced Dean, I don’t know

If we want to get…….oh. It wasn’t “if we want to get rid of the Mark, we have to get rid of Dean” it’s “it’s we have to get back in cahoots with Metatron”

Crowley, can you KNOCK?!

She looks stunning in purple…the costumers have been so wonderful to me

She’s got herself a lil boy toy…maybe. Or she made up a boy toy to cover up her real motives, which is even funnier

Cas isn’t allowed in heaven?!

🥹Hannah🥹 it does make me sad to see them opposing each other though

How do you break Metatron out of jail……….oh. That’s why they need Bobby, I bet

“You can be damned AND a conscientious worker” man, you don’t HAVE to be though

How does Dean have that many people in his phone? No offense, man

Sam’s :/ yet undeterred face when faced with a billion “No trespassing” and “keep out” signs

I love sasstiel. “And you’re….what ARE you?” “…I’m an angel” “that…no you can’t be” “why not?”

This psychic calling Metatron a creepy hobbit lookin fellow. It honestly made me laugh out loud in the break room

Dean…now you’re just being mean. There’s hustling someone at pool and then there’s taking that kid’s watch that his dad gave him. Yeah he’s an asshole college kid, but damn

There is no rest for Bobby…

She dressed up so nicely to go try to kill Dean, and she’s so unrepentantly evil. Fuck, I love her so much.

Ewwww…the structure of heaven is really…terrible. It’s all sterile hallways with alphabetized rooms where every individual person gets their version of heaven. It’s not what it should be

GIRLIE!!! You literally cut yourself up and blamed Dean to get Crowley to turn on him. And I love how she absolutely cuts Crowley to the core with her words

Omg a revolt of all the Robert and Roberto and Roberta Singers that Bobby broke out of their respective heavens

That was such a funny action movie sequence. Cas jumping into the portal to heaven and sliding through the door

“Dean has given up” “And you idjits haven’t.” “Would you?” “Hell no” Cas and Bobby deserved more screen time together

God, this sit down talk between Dean and Crowley…they ARE friends. They’re somehow still friends

I hate Metatron as much as the next guy (and the next guys have called him a creepy hobbit and a fraggle, so…) but him calling Cas Asstiel will never not be funny

YES, CAS! “You’re gonna be MY punching bag”

I promise I still hate him but he gets so many funny lines. How much time did he spend thinking about

I am…so damn impressed with Sam and Cas’s plan. They just STOLE METATRON’S GRACE AND THEN SAM SHOT HIM IN THE LEG just to get the leverage they need

I want her to burn it all down. I appreciate that Crowley is choosing himself, and it’s great for him…but I want her to go ballistic, just completely of the deep end with rage. I need it like air

I’m not lying when I say that Bobby telling Sam in a letter that he’s a good man, one of the best, and he’s damn proud of him is making me tear up. With all the doubts that Sam’s had that he’s a good person, that he’s not just cursed…

“Kill the Moon”

Plot Description: The Doctor and Clara crash land on the Moon to find a world of horror

This…only takes place 26 years from RIGHT NOW. 2014 was such an optimistic time. Y’all really thought we’d be going to the moon again? I wish I could believe that. PEOPLE? On the MOON?!

Please tell me that the astronaut that was in the cold open with Clara is a future Courtney Woods! (I love that she’s back in the post opening credits scene, so THAT is what I’m holding out hope for)

Oh…not future Courtney…present Courtney is on the moon

“One small thing for a thing. One enormous thing for a thingything” honestly, I’m not mad at her. First girl on the moon and those are her first words on the surface? Love it for her

The shuttle says United States, WHY does everyone still have an accent from across the pond? The TARDIS doesn’t need to translate it. They’re all speaking English

WHY ARE THERE SPIDERWEBS IN THE ABANDONED SHELTER?!?! WHO BROUGHT SPIDERS TO THE MOON????

Nooooooooo. No I don’t like whatever’s living here

THAT IS A HUGE AND GROSS SPIDER. This is also the worst soundscape I’ve ever experienced. It’s the amplified sound of weird skittering and then IT ECHOES BECAUSE WHY NOT

Courtney Woods 2024. I don’t care that she’s not American, in the face of great danger (a giant spider) she was cool calm collected enough to do what needed to be done (all purpose cleaner it to death. Kills 99.9% of all germs. I guess huge spiders count, too)

THAT WAS A MOON GERM?!?! No. I refuse to accept it. Why? I hate it

I also don’t like knowing what the twist is. I know I’ve said it before but so much of the Moffat era is depends on not knowing the twist

Courtney is an ICON. She retches in the TARDIS, which sends her a little off the rails because the Doctor then tells her she’s not special, so Clara tries to get the Doctor to just take that statement back, but that’s not good enough for him, he needs to make the statement untrue, she has to be special now, so he takes her to the FREAKING MOON where she becomes a sort of hero because no one knew how to kill the giant spider looking germs, and the second she’s sent to the TARDIS for her own safety, what does she do? POST PICTURES OF HER TRIP TO TUMBLR

I need to know…ok, the actress playing the astronaut was 47 when this was filmed. If we take that age and make it her character’s age in this episode, that means this character is 47 in 2049. She is 21 today. She was 12 when this episode aired…do not come into my hellsite and tell me “my granny used to post things on tumblr” Your granny MAY very well be here for all I know, but don’t pretend you weren’t, too. YOU ARE NOT THAT FAR IN THE FUTURE. You signed up on your 13th birthday in 2015. I cannot let this go. “Courtney’s posting stuff to tumblr, doesn’t that know where you are?” “I don’t know, I’m not a historian” BITCH. WHAT. STOP THIS BLASPHEMY RIGHT NOW

Oof, now we’ve entered the part of the episode that’s gonna make me mad but not in a fun way.

The optimism that we could have a female president by the time 2049 rolls around…..

You can’t expect someone with an amount of Time Lord DNA to go kill hitler if they were in 1930s Germany?? Really??? Have you forgotten your wife so soon?

So they’re letting Earth democratically vote whether or not to blow up the moon, which is an egg, by whether or not they turn out their lights. Lights out on earth means lights out for the moon. It’s not even a close vote (but I’ve now had the ending spoiled for me and I’m not happy about it)

And then Clara decides on her own that ALL OF EARTH’s decision wasn’t as important as her own feelings on the matter. And to make matters worse, she gets justified in her actions by the narrative because everything worked out anyway no harm done

Is that really what we should be doing though? I’m not saying checking out our own space neighborhood wouldn’t be interesting but every time in this rewatch when they mention some human colony out in space somewhere…like, SHOULD WE BE COLONIZING SPACE THOUGH?! And it’s gonna last FOREVER?!

Wait. Pausing how much this episode makes me mad to say Courtney ACTUALLY becomes president of the United States?!

Ok but honestly, how much DID the Doctor know? Because if he knew that it would all work out and how humanity starts to travel to the stars because of this day and didn’t let them make an INFORMED DECISION, that’s…I can understand why Clara is so upset with him right now. She took the fate of humanity in her own hands and didn’t know how it would shake out, but the Doctor might have and he just fucking vanished. She has every right to be furious with him

She will never look at the moon the same way again