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scentedpepper · 5 months ago

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Attempted Vehicular Manslaughter

BILLY HARGROVE X MALE READER

Summary: Max Mayfield hosts a pool party.

Content Warnings: Use of the F-slur, Use of Queer in a derogatory manner, Injuries, Verbal Abuse, Abusive Household Dynamics, Reader makes a 'if I wanna kms' joke

Other Pairings: Nancy Wheeler x Male Reader, Jonathan Byers x Male Reader, Max Mayfeild x Male Reader, Mike Wheeler x Male Reader

AUTHOR NOTE(S):

Oh brother we got a chatterbox

Had a dream about this ya'll

Readers a little sassy

Reader has a little brother

Reader has a bit of savior complex

Readers also kinda impulsive?

It's 3 am

_________________________________________

The grass was rough and patchy in the backyard, filled to the brim with wilted daisies and weeds crawling through the sprinklers. It was hardly worth a note of much consideration, as there had been nothing of great importance to discuss. There were many trees boarding the house. Pine or oak, maybe. And one dying cherry tree that was a stand alone in the yard. That was about the extent of anything substantial past the old silver fence that matched your shoes.

Nearest the house, under the shade, were several lawn chairs designated for the so-called "chaperones". The older brothers and sisters of the tweens. But really, it was nothing more than a cover-up.

Something to appease the parents' of the Hargrove house because Max knew it was odd to be friends with a group of kids the same age as her brother. Even her mother, who'd tried to remain impartial to any situation, narrowed her eyes and shifted her purse tighter when the suggestion of more than a couple 17 year old's parading around her house came.

Your mom was just happy you got along, let alone made some real friends outside the books, and encouraged the notion. More parental control, she reasoned. Less chances you were off with someone who intended on trouble.

Of course, all the shit about fighting monsters and being on the brink of death with these same friends wasn't factored in.

But no one besides them and the sheriff's deputy needed to know that.

The first time you had met the kids was, admittedly, what one would refer to as a kerfuffle. Riled up and trying to be dominant. Of course, because Billy was there, it spiraled even farther, and someone's head nearly got bashed into a rock.

That someone being you of obviously, after you'd been goaded into the fight and decided to step up. And boy, did Billy hate to lose. Hated being talked down to by a smaller kid who barely had pimples left on his face, let alone bulk.

You put up a good fight. You had a mean hit, especially the lick you gifted to Billy's chest, knocking the wind out of him when it connected. There was a bruise on his ribcage for days after and all the satisfaction he could possibly imagine at knowing it was from you.

But then he nearly killed you so, things turned sour rather quickly.

Which led to a rather impromptu welcome into the group of misfits, the lot of them. Unannounced and unexpected, you marched into the party after your small break down. Ready to be let in and accepted.

Finding out about the Upside Down was a mere accident.

You hadn't gone out of your way to befriend a group of children. Hadn't expected much in regards to friendship period even after getting your ass kicked by Billy Hargrove. Let alone a lifetime, one built from the shared experience of the horrors that lurk just underneath town, attached to one particular boy of the group.

But here you were. Standing in the backyard of Max's home like an idiot with the sun bearing down at your back. The late summer day nearly reached over 100 degrees as the clock neared the noon hour. Something you might have missed otherwise if it wasn't for the black analog watching you closely every time you renetered the house for a drink.

The main gaggle of kids swam and screamed every few seconds, trying to drag you into a half-baked game of Marco Polo that had the older Hawkins teens eyeing each other with concern.

You tapped the top of your can to ease the anxiety, looking around the edge of the yard again, past Max's mother, who waved awkwardly and would come around every so often, offering drinks or food to you, Nancy, and Jonathan.

"Nervous?" Jonathan prodded in his way, looking up from the half eaten sandwhich Will had taken two large bites from, making sure he had gotten his fill and packing it away when he received two big thumbs up from his little brother before he rentered the pool.

"Ah. " You leaned against the lawn chair, rolling your neck before looking over. "Expecting Billy to jump out from one of these corners, " you gesture towards the many hiding places you have spotted in the yard. "cause a scene. "

Nancy shifted uncomfortably, twisting her skirt slightly. "Not yet, at least. " She added while fidgeting with the button over the waist. "I thought he'd show up at least half-way through this thing. "

"Yeah, " you agreed, "thats why I'm–"

"On edge?" Jonathan filled in for you, a soft smile gracing his lips as Will looked over.

"Ready, he means. " Mike piped up, his hand was fully plunged into the cooler chest, blindly shifting around the ice as he looked over at the three.

Something in the tension held firm in the pit of your stomach, because the only times that this happened was whenever a confrontation was supposed to take place.

And judging from all the past events that had occurred, however mundane or fantastical they may be, this was probably going to end badly in more than just a couple of ways.

You'd managed to keep pretty calm in the past concerning Billy. Kept a level head about whatever shit he'd decided to cause that week. But something felt wrong today. That air in your gut had been hard to shake.

And the fact he had yet to make an appearance so far, did very little in easing you. And apparently everyone else involved.

"Don't know what his fucking problem is. " You curse, sitting up in the chair, "Never waits long to start shit."

In fact, you can almost pinpoint the time he entered the premises, an excuse to blame him for the sudden tightening in your gut and the goosebumps on your skin. Yet, he hadn't entered the backyard once since he got home. He stayed holed up in his room the entire day and that much was evident every time you, or Nancy, or Jonathan or one of the kids entered the house and heard the rock music blasting from his bedroom.

He hadn't even made a shadow to have showed his face.

For hours you waited.

Hours of worry and unease ate away at your gut while the rest of the party commenced unhindered.

And yet, it seemed all but for nothing in the grand scheme of things. Because as the sun started to lower from its zenith, you and the rest grew more tired and eventually, the temperature started to cool to a point where splashing around in the pool was no longer appropriate.

The kids came clamoring out, dripping in more chemicals than water, screaming and laughing in the process. It was getting near the five hour mark by then.

Your mind was heavy when you stood up to go inside, nearly tripping when your eyes clashed with the eldest person in the home, the both of you freezing awkwardly in the middle of the walk.

Both you and Max's mother were silent in each others presence. Stoic if there was ever a word for it.

Neil always seemed to be staring off into nothing, zoned out to some far away place only those who drowned themselves in alcohol and other momentary pleasures existed. They didn't interact, besides maybe the occasional conversation starter, or nod in passing whenever a person came too close for an inch of comfort. Not unusual in your opinion of strained marriages.

You began to speak, went to get yourself out of this weird positioning you've seemed to found yourself in. But Susan beat you to it.

"Can you do me a favor?" She beckoned before turning around and trotting off into the kitchen. Already assuming you would listen. You usually did. There weren't any hidden agendas for her actions and nothing against you personally.

She held some power that you wished wasn't. You would take just about any job that required you to be away from the current obstacles of your personal life. But as she turned back to look at you with that indescribable air and knowing nod, she had beaten you.

"Whats up?" You replied, voice more gravely then you meant it to be as you walked up behind her. She was sticking something into the microwave.

"Bye, Y/N/N. " Nancy had emerged from the Hargrove bathroom when she stood on her toes to place a friendly kiss on your cheek before joining Jonathan.

"See ya, Nance. " You say as the dark haired girl glided away, passing a wave to Jonathan and then they were out the front door.

The house was mostly empty now with nearly all the kids back home, and Dustin and Max tucked away in her room, waiting for Dustin's mother. There was enough silence now that you were itching to leave. The house had settled quiet, but you couldn't describe it as comfortable. There was a ribbed blanket across the couch that had obviously been sat on by its dishelved look.

The TV was on but the volume had been lowered so much that you were better off listening to Billy's faint music from down the hall for entertainment.

Water rushed from somewhere on the other side of the house and the distinct slam of a door being pulled shut gave you the visual to what you were hearing. Your little brother, most likely. You'd seen him dip down the hallway like he was about to shit himself the moment Nancy exited the bathroom.

You shifted around, placing your backside agaisnt the counter as you found new things to look at. Languidly, you watched, senses picking out different things around the house to latch on to. The light green walls, the ugly brown patterns on the carpet, the hum of the refrigerator that, strangely enough, harbored no family photos, just magnets with various corny sayings.

Your eyes lingered on the fridge.

Everything here was simple. Blank like a fresh canvas of dry paint. Apart from the dishes left in the sink and the few items of clothing to be picked up off the ground, it felt oddly wrong for an occupied residence.

"Y/N?"

A shift in the environment rippled over your skin and something felt charged but not in a fearful sort of way. You're pulled from your small internal worry by the same woman from before.

"Billy hasn't come from his room all day, mind taking this to him?"

Susan's got a glass plate in her hand, slightly extended our towards you. It's filled at every turn with food she'd transfered from the tupperware after the ding of the microwave you hadn't quite heard.

That same gut feeling crawled up your insides again, but you blamed the way your throat tightened on the anxiety. Why it was something now and not earlier, you can't be sure.

But, if there's one thing you learned from movies and popular tv shows, it's never to interrupt the motherfucker when he's listening to rock. But, here's your excuse. So, with a small nod and the plate in your hand, you try to shake it all away.

Because the worst that could happen is you get your ass beat again.

Stepping up to the wood slated door gave your lungs a run for their money. It was as if all the air had been sucked from the atmosphere and the pressure collapsed the walls around you. Only breathing through your nose you shook the fear away with a raised fist to the door, clenched the plate in your opposite hand.

Bass rattled through the floor and past the wooden door, you're graced with the faint sounds of the guitar on the stereo. There were bits of vocals in the background, a baritone voice that spoke. And perhaps that was part of the appeal. Your fingers danced on the metal that resided at the entrance. It felt cool on your skin.

You knocked again after a few seconds. Nothing sounded on the other side of the door but you were still unsure if Billy could hear you above the music. Maybe he'd turn it down once his father returned from whatever place he'd ventured off to in the night. But you didn't exactly have that time to be waiting around, despite your own fathers late tendencies.

You took a moment to think if you should just leave the plate on the floor, let him pick it up, and try to call a ride. You exhaled quickly, shifting your balance onto your other hip.

Before you even touched the doorknob with a single digit, the music turned down significantly and suddenly the atmosphere was more intense than you'd anticipated.

Which, was the new normal.

But, still.

Things felt off. The pressure in your bones caused your limbs to rise upward, to defend yourself, to at least put yourself in some position that wouldn't leave you open to attack.

For what?

You didn't know.

Because all Billy did was peer up at you from the crack in his door. Nothing significant yet his stare was nothing less than striking. Those blue things could put the oceans to shame, rivaling even the sky in its vivid colors. They were a mirror.

They shifted to the food, briefly. Then immediately returned back to you as the speaker could barely emit its sound.

You watched as the boy straightened, sighed and then opened the door wider, leaving the frame unguarded as he trailed off into his room.

The door held open but his gaze disappeared into the space on his mattress, and the music lowered a touch, no longer loud enough to break the door from its hinges but loud enough that Billy had to raise his voice over it to be properly heard.

You took a cautious step forward after staring at the boys backside, his attire didn't leave much to imagination but his half nude state was the least of your discernment seeing as one, you were fashioned the same way and two, Billy Hargrove was wordlessly inviting you into his room.

You thought maybe this was some kind of trick, a ploy to get you cornered, so your eyes danced over him in brief, consistent glances as you proceeded forward.

He was sitting by his window, a cigarette stuck between his two fingers as he silently stared off into the the darkness the world outside offered.

It was strange. Seemingly off guard as he propped the knee of one leg against the window, giving a free range to his left to lean. Hair swept over the shoulder to show part of his sharp jawline, which dimmed only with each intake of the deadly nicotine.

The room was bland save for a few posters, white walls, brown dresser pressed against a corner and a night stand tucked at the opposite. Clothes were tossed about, either on the floor or hung up half assed on something that you could only guess as a proper hanger.

His nightstand was covered in trash and empty beer cans and you thought of shoving them away before deciding to place the plate on his bed instead.

You spared him a last glance after the action, perplexed by the fact he was just so— quiet. Which, was certainly odd to everyone at least within half a mile from here. Usually the moment you entered his space, his bubble, he erupted like an animal defending its territory.

You decided not to push your luck. Because right now, it felt like the deadly cat across the African plains simply hadn't noticed you. And so your steps were as carefully placed as they had been when you entered. It was almost relaxing despite the looming feeling from the boys demeanor.

Billy felt a wave, a sort of ripple through the air as the presence of another remained in the room. He didn't bother to speak, only raised the unlit cigarette to his lips in a curious manner and took an unsteady puff, letting the wind carry the smoke out the screen. There was a storm, one he had sensed earlier but was hard to make out amongst the many things that had clouded his mind with anger.

Luckily, the only thing he could blame his outburst on earlier this morning was exhaustion, a clear sign of his lack of sleep from the night before which would easily explain his half dead posture and irritability that had pissed off nearly everyone around him.

Another explanation for his hideout in his room but one you couldn't quite understand.

You neared the exit when the floorboards creaked just as they had before and you almost wanted to freeze in your place. Like the cat would come pouncing now, mauling you to death.

"Not gonna make a show of it?" Came Billy's voice, it was low and calm but you caught the slight strain of it. As if he needed a clear of his throat to even be fully heard.

"A show of what?" You cast a glance over your shoulder, brows knit.

The blonde gestured with his lips, the subtle shift in his elbow drawing attention to the stick of tobacco. "I was waiting for some goddamn spectacle, L/N. "

"I don't know what you're talking about, Billy. " You sounded exasperated already and you stepped over a black shirt with a design you couldn't quite decipher from its crumpled up state. You made sure not to add anymore scratches to the ground and turned around, placing your back firmly against the door frame.

Billy's muscles became tense with the new body turned on him and he felt the wave again, the stirring of new energy entering the atmosphere.

But you had simply done so so that your back wasn't uncomfortably to him when you left.

"Whatever. " Was all Billy seemed to say before shutting you out, shoving that fucking piece of shit plate away from him. And in the split second your brain focused on how fast food was supposed to get cooled and not nearly three seconds after swallowing his cancer stick Billy must've caught the attention of the devil himself.

There was no denying the jagged yell, the shuffling in his voice like someone was gripping his head and holding it under water. You jumped away, eyes as wide as saucers as Billy's bedroom door flung open, smacking the adjacent wall with a loud slam that nearly cracked the plaster from the force.

And yet, his voice was a lot less louder than his grand entrance. "Hey, shit face. Why don't you make yourself useful instead of sitting around all day, having our guests, " he gestured to you, "bring you your own fucking food. "

You moved a step back, almost tripping on your own footing from your struggle to balance yourself without the solid sense of feeling. Your eyes darted frantically between the two people within your viewing distance, and you could barely make out Susan a few feet away who had her hand clasped on Max's shoulder.

She was ushering her daughter to their bedroom but Max refused, and the red head stood beside the door with a wary look.

"Get up. And give him a ride home. " Another gesture to you and when you looked towards the entrance of Billy's room again Neil was taking up the entire frame.

"That's really not–" You began but stopped as both of the parents turned to look at you with an appalled look. It was nothing personal but you doubted Billy even knew where you lived and the only time you ever rode with him was pervious to when he'd beat your ass.

"My dad–" You tried again.

"He won't answer the phone, much less pick you up. " Susan jumped in, though the hesitation on her voice made you doubt if that was her plan all along. "Your brother got a ride with the Henderson's. "

"Put on a shirt, stop acting like a balless queer, and go. " Again Neil thrust a drawn out, mocking tone, like his son couldn't comprehend basic sentences and he stepped out of the way to make room for your departure.

Billy's got a storm brewing in his expression and there was one moment where his eyes met yours and you were sure you'd drown in all the hate there was.

You didn't get a chance to argue about the amount of time it would take to get there and about how you would manage on your own. In fact, something in Max's eyes told you it'd be better not to. So you pressed your lips against each other as Billy grabbed his keys and pushed past you.

You watched Billy stalk past everyone, a gruff 'Yes, Sir' leaving his lips that you almost hadn't heard as he passed his father.

You exited the room shortly after, not sparing Susan or Neil a goodbye as you gingerly took your shirt from Max's hands.

She made a comment, something quietly spoken that not even your heightened hearing could make out over Billy's obnoxious slamming of the front door that he knew he would pay for later. You watched the young girl as she returned to her room.

Silence welcomed you when you first stepped into the driveway, stretching across the cement with a sense of uncomfortablity that didn't seem to fade as you entered the car and were met with a chilling quiet.

Billy didnt look at you as his ignition roared to life, nor did he speak to you as he pulled out the drive way. He stared ahead, chin down as he leaned just slightly forward, supporting an arm on the side door, palm rubbing soothing circles into his temple.

He was going 20 above the speed limit. You assumed you two were trying to get as far away from the house as you could. But, the further into the neighborhood you went, the lower the numbers on the radio dropped and the more the car filled with quiet music.

Hargrove was completely out of it, lost in some other space where you weren't welcome. And the car had filled with a tension you doubted he'd meant to cause, but given his current mood, you didn't think he could avoid it either.

Despite this, you chose to press yourself against the door with a turned head, the muscles in your body growing taut with discomfort the more you tried to make it seem as if you weren't even of existence in the passenger seat.

You wanted out of the car.

That much you could draw from your mind when you found that the speedometer was at 55 and increasing.

"Billy. " You tore your gaze from the meter, flickering over the silent boy who was intent on looking only at the road ahead.

No answer. His jaw was tightened and set. There were lines buried in the skin.

"Billy. " Your voice held a certain firmness that he didn't quite like.

Silence still and he tightened his grip on the leather, knuckles turning white. The streetlights were getting ready to cast those obnoxious eyes and like a perfect chain of events the little hairs of a certain song burst from the speakers.

His hand, fast with anger, whipped across the volume dial, ceasing the tune and replacing it with the rumble of the engine.

An inhale, then a single word. "What. "

Somehow you think that's the opposite of an answer. It's barely a question. With the tone of voice he held he shouldn't have phrased it that way because he clearly didn't want to know what you had to say, what you thought.

"Stop the car. I'll walk. " It was simple enough and on any normal occasion Billy might've done just that rather than wasting his gas on you. But tonight was different, and Billy, seemingly fueled by his own agitation, just blew past the stop sign and sent the speed at which the Camaro rolled up with you at dangerous levels.

The car vibrated lightly beneath you, air whistling as you tore through the neighborhood at an alarming rate.

"Oh for fucks sake. " It was a mutter to yourself because you hadn't exactly expected the boy to be cooperative but you didn't think you'd be forced to jump out of a moving car again. Yet, here you were; gripping the handle, poised like a god damn animal, eyeing the road as you built up your goddamned gallantry.

You didn't catch the surprise on Billy's face when he noticed you push the door open against the harsh winds.

Fuck it.

You fell with ease and with a soft oof! your limbs were somehow able to stand the blow rather than becoming mangled chunks of meat against the pavement. You could hear the car skidding to a stop five houses down as you took a moment to roll around in your own pain.

Your shirt had rode up on your torso, back pressed against the heated road as your skin made contact with the tar. You had a few scrapes along your spine, one over the delicate hip bone. And you were pretty sure the road had peeled the skin on your forearm all the way down to the elbow but hey, at least it wasn't your fucking face.

A few drops of blood gathered on a pebble directly to your right. Your nose gave a sharp twinge of pain.

"Dick. " You said that in regards to him, for every aspect of his personality. Because Billy Hargrove was what others considered a giant dick.

If you hadn't suspected it before you were sure when you heard the wheels start to turn again, the shift of a gear springing the Camaro back to life. And then footsteps, louder than the car itself, were slapping against the asphalt.

"Are you out of your fucking mind!?" You raised your head, eyes coming to focus on Billy's very fucking pissed form towering above you. Arms crossed defensively, face twisted with irritation as he glared down at you with something close to— well it looked a lot like anger but Billy only knew one of three emotions and that was definitely not concern.

"Fuck you. " You managed through a puddle of blood in your mouth that you promptly spit out, only having realized it was there the moment it began forming bubbles when you tried to speak.

Billy's voice stuttered in reply. "What the fuck is your problem? Do you want to fucking kill yourself or something?! "

"Better than death by fucking vehicular manslaughter on the account of Billy fucking Hargrove. " You muttered, hands pressing into the road to give you leverage when you attempt to stand up. Your body immediately yells a no to this action and you lay right back down on the road.

"What?" Billy is completely distraught in the sense that his brain has seemed to burst due the sheer incomprability of your actions.

"Oh I don't know, Billy, maybe the next time I feel like killing myself I'll call you and we'll go a hundred miles an hour off the fucking side of a cliff. "

The boys eyebrows were nearly touching his hairline as he stared at you.

"Watch me die like an old school movie where they're surrounded by bubbles and colors and shit. "

You spit the last remnants of blood from your mouth and Hargroves face ran red and blue. "Can you fucking shut the fuck up and get up already before anyone sees you. " He demanded, practically dancing around your form. Arms stretched out with a stance that reminded you very much of a gymnast.

"No. No. I think I'll lay here for a sec. " You roll onto your backside, a groan in your voice, arms folding over your body, posed like a corpse.

Billy stops in his antics and stares at you incredulously. "Are you serious?"

"Very serious, yes. " Your voice almost comes out like a sigh.

Billy reels, and if it wasn't for the fact your eyes were sealed shut now, you'd be able to see the absolute bewilderment of the teen as he stood there in the middle of the empty street. Arms half poised over you but not touching your form. As if he didn't know what do with you.

"...Get up. " He demands, standing straight again, his hands on his waist. This time he's not commanding you in that cold manner. There's a little rise to his voice like he's beginning to lose his patience, his forehead furrowing with anger.

You take another few moments to enjoy the silence. You swear you hear a cicada or something squeak from a window sill nearby and the air felt cooler than it has in weeks. Until it all becomes overbearing and your chest burns from a lack of oxygen. You didn't even realize you were holding your breath.

You open an eye to test the waters.

Billy's scowling now, a hand on his hip and the other resting across his forehead in disbelief. At you or the situation, you weren't entirely sure. Both you imagined. But there was a certain look on his face like he was ready to pull some kind of theatric, a reaction, throw a punch to knock some sense into you but ultimately decided against it.

"Where do you live?" He asked the question in such a manner that you couldn't help but be wary of his intentions.

"...Why?" You asked, the caution obvious in your voice. As he loomed over you like that... it wasn't doing a whole lot of trust building.

You almost hear the growl of frustration from his throat as he began rocking on the balls of his feet, hands swinging like he wasn't able to grab hold of something. "So we can fucking go. Before someone calls the fucking cops. "

You still hesitated.

"Before I fuck you up so hard they'll have to identify you by your fucking sperm. " Okay there were his threats. But they lacked the substance of his normal demeanor. He didn't seem overly angry like he typically did but still, his body gave some kind of look as though he couldn't quite will himself to control the way it trembled with adrenaline.

"Nice one, but you're not my type. " Another bite and a second of Billy looking absolutely befuddled as he tried to keep his voice down. His glare had weakened but only because he was taken off guard, and his cocky expression fell to a tight line.

You watched as he took a moment to look around the empty street. The lights weren't too bright so you couldn't make out that typical, telltale flush of his skin that you've grown accustomed to in his anger.

Your eyes flickered across his face, scanning every inch like a beacon. Curiously, you looked at him the same way he always did. Maybe you'd find some sort of answer hidden somewhere behind his icy blues.

The look on his face was strange. Pensive.

"Get up, Y/N. " An even voice this time. Calming maybe. And to think, all it took was a slightly gay comment in order to simmer the violent bastard.

You half wondered where the fag-bashing erratic moron went. Maybe he'd packed his bags and runaway. You could hope.

You did more than that infact, you put that right there on your bucket list, and with a frown, more for yourself than anything else, you looked away from the boy above you.

"Fine. Alright. " Your movements were stiff with pain as you moved to push yourself up by the palms of your hand, your arms trembling beneath the weight. The skin on your hand and forearm burned with a stinging sensation.

Billy watched at your pathetic attempts, a sneer or two on his face but he didn't seem to offer much help until it'd all get too pathetic and he had to reach out and aid you.

"Idiot. " His lip curled as his palm met yours, his fingers holding onto the back of your hand tight as possible.

You stumbled slightly upon becoming fully upright, teetering against Billy for a moment as you took a minute to regain your ground.

"Yeah, well whose fucking fault is that. " You've developed a lovely habit of hissing through your teeth with an unnecessary amount of spite. You're surprised Billy hasn't knocked you on your ass and left you for dead by now.

He scoffs, trying to put as much distance between the two of you while still having your arm linked through his, helping you along. To the ignorant eye, you suppose this would look platonic enough but anyone that knew the two of you well would certainly think otherwise.

Billy's all rigid limbs and stunted movements. Even when you'd finally started to walk on your own and your grip on his arm began to slack, he held firm with a grip like a vise.

And by the time you're at the passenger's side, he's shoving you into the seat and you nearly knock your head on the top of car.

You didn't bother giving a remark when he practically seethed through his teeth, slamming the door in your face. He strode around the car like a man on a mission.

"If you go more than 5 over the speed limit—" You felt the warning die on your tongue when you saw the look of pure anger etched onto Billy's face.

"You'll jump out. Yeah. " His hand came down on the shifter. "Got it. "

There was a part of your brain that you didn't recognize that was screaming in terror, completely and totally convinced you were going to die tonight at the hands of the ever brooding Billy Hargrove.

But much to your surprise, Billy maintains that 5 mile leway the entire drive home even when there's barely a car in the streets. He hadn't muttered a single word since throwing his angry body in the driver's seat.

Instead, he'd cranked up the music all the way as if it'd some how compensate for the lack of speed and conversation, not that there would be much to say anyway.

You hadn't bothered looking at him. He hadn't bothered looking at you. But somehow, in one way or another, the feeling as if you were watching each other was even more abundant in the silence.

Whatever hostility had remained from Billy's mood in the first half of the night had receded back into his depths for later. Though the occasional frown on his face never quite leaves no matter what, his eyes are softer now.

And by the time he's pulling into the dirt driveway of your home, the soft beams of amber and yellow from the streetlights dimly hitting half his face, there's no sign of anger or any real semblance of emotion. It's oddly quiet, and the only thing to really speak up was the steady rumble of the engine.

"Thanks. " You beckon quickly and with reluctantance as you awkwardly grabbed at the door handle, trying to turn as quickly as you could while still maintaining balance. Anything just to get out of his car and away from the guy.

"Y/N. " He voices and the moment you pull at the handle you come to find it's resistance. A dull tingle shoots up your spine and the hair on the back of your neck raises with tension.

You turn, facing the teen who kept an unconcerned façade. He was a calm still pond with blue eyes flickering like small waves in the face of a strong wind, and although most times they were ice and snow that held such a cold, unforgiving passion of arrogance, there were times they were the ripples of a breeze.

Now was one of those times.

"Don't go around pulling fucking stunts like that. "

That was definitely closer to a warning than anything else that had come from his lips the entirety of the night.

"This is coming from the guy who beat my ass into the concrete two months ago. " And at this point, you were too exhausted to be filled with spite for the boy.

His posture falters and not just figuratively. There's a shift to the way he's sitting but the flicker of his eyes remains. Even with you half turned, his stare remained. In fact, it seems to have gotten all the more intense.

"What's it to you anyway? " The way he tilted his head might have been endearing in another life. Now, it seemed to hold meaning, the way a predator stalks its prey with such observant behavior before sinking its teeth into its jugular.

His gaze on you could have bored into your brain, much like a drill for how quick your defenses seemed to start dissolving.

He'd always looked at you like this. Whether or not you caught his eyes on you was by chance.

In class, in the halls, it was all the same to him. He'd get one look and that was about all it took. He'd stare with the attention like an interrogation, as if trying to decode some secret behind your stature, trying to pick you apart bit by bit with those watchful baby blue's of his. And if there was no easy route to doing that he'd dig his little meat hooks into you until there was.

You were all he'd focus on. Not you in particular. More so the idea of you.

Whatever that meant.

Of course the only instance Billy looked at you without fail, hard looked at you like the blue was about to spill out of his eyes and swallow you up like a tsunami, was when he was a little tipsy or riled up with heat and fury. But like most of Billy's emotions, they were very intense. Too intense for something as simple as just a fucking stare. It almost gave you the illusion of a dangerous threat that made your skin buzz with goosebumps, your nerves rattling in their sockets.

He was doing the same now, except, the only difference was that he wasn't pissed faced or smoldering with alcohol this time. In the confines of his car, beneath the yellow white shine of the nearby street lights, he couldn't tear his gaze away even if you begged.

Billy was the sort of thing to stop you mid thought when you glance and feel your limbs freeze, suddenly petrified with all this uneasiness and sudden confusion as to why there was only one sort of definition to put on why you felt such things whenever his presence was met with a hundred paces of distance.

"I..." He starts but his voice falls flat. Something beyond frustration, something between anger and concern. The sort of look that told you he was working something out in his mind. Or he just couldn't find the proper word choice that didn't end in an f-bomb at the end of his sentence.

He's still staring, his eyes flickering back and forth between yours, like a candle wick in the night. Wavering. Stuttering. Inconsistent uncertainty.

Like he's just asking for guidance to fill his barren vocabulary, the words never existing like an undiscovered civilization in his brain, unable to conjure up the sort of speech that would get him what he wanted.

An abrupt sense of panic washed over you. You inhaled sharply and you didn't let the breath go until your next move was placed in front of you like a chess piece on the board and you couldn't take the time to think out any future moves on your part.

All of your attention was pulled to him, focused entirely. The way he moved, the way he breathed, it left a tingling feeling trailing behind him like some faint breeze of emotion.

Everything stilled, it was him and you. Him. And you.

And he's just looking at you like that. Mouth halfway opened and the noise of shallow heavy breaths were the only sounds falling from his lips while he's looking at you all wide-eyed, like some fresh-faced virgin whose never seen one in person before.

You cursed yourself. Cursed the wind. Cursed the ground. Cursed Billy and his stupid face. And every corner of his stupid car and everything else about him. You can curse the sun but that'd probably be a step too far. Especially the moment you met those watchful pools of sea foam.

Fucking Billy Hargrove and his stupid, fucking car and his even more stupid...

Lips.

Lips and teeth.

Teeth, pale pink lips.

Blue eyes, long lashes.

Stupid fucking curly hair.

The sort of curly where it always managed to get you by the tips, tangling its brambles in your fingers and refusing to let go.

Which is why the second Billy made a small noise– not even really a noise, it's a breath. A single exhale that hits your nose, hits you the way nothing has before, and it causes a wave of heat to wash over you, overtaking your senses.

You grab those curls, your fingers entwine them and his breath is alot heavier, alot hotter as his hands grip tightly onto your shirt, like he's a frightened child.

His lips are wet.

He's messy.

Sloppy.

Like he's never kissed before in his life. Lips that keep moving, and his tongue is too sensitive, too eager.

Every sharp inhale of breath reeks of sweat and chlorine.

There's no time to stop and make sense of the situation.

He's scrambling over the middle console, desperate hands gripping on your collar and in any other scenario, this would've been the step before he plummeted his fist into your face. But there's hardly anything suggesting that. At least not without the time to see the tiny trail of tears lining Billy's eyes, glossing his cheeks.

He tastes as he looks. Like liquid gold with his tongue rubbing against yours in a hot mass of burning motion. And any semblance of a rational train of thought was chucked out the window.

There was enough room in the front seat for a teenage boy and then some. Billy Hargrove was not such a teenage boy. There was barely enough room to shift and breathe and wriggle around in this half straddle.

You can faintly hear a heavy car pass over a mound in the road, an off balance tire or perhaps someone forgot to inflate it and the uneven troll on the road, not entirely deafening, but it's there. And Billy hears it and he jumps from you, leg grazing the shifter, head knocking into the top of the roof.

His ears are steaming red as he all but falls into the driver's seat, face flustered and hair slightly disheveled.

He's looking around like a wild animal caught in a trap and he can't escape, eyes flickering back and forth; from the gearshift all the way to the rear view mirror and then to your face.

Pupils shot open, dark and wide, and a hand coming up to press on his forehead, eyes squinting.

"Billy‐ " It's a start, but it doesn't stay long enough to be deemed a full sentence, not with his name lingering on your lips while you try to swallow down the heat in the pit of your stomach. Billy's looking at you, breathing heavy.

"Get out. " He mutters forcefully, the lock clicks open and when his hand comes up to rub across his face, it's shaking.

"Billy. " More insistent this time.

He looks a few shades redder than when he was before, his head snaps back to meet your stare, hair curling beneath his ears in a gentle mess, curls threatening to fall into his face.

"Get out!" His voice pitches, breaks into something close to a sob and Billy swings his arm wildly, fist connecting with the steering wheel and there's a loud honk as a warning before he shouts again. "Get the fuck out, you fucking faggot!" His voice reverberates across the entire neighborhood, shattering your ear drums in the process.

There's dogs barking from far away, probably due to the horn.

You hesitated but only for a moment before swinging the door open, just barely missing the opportunity to knock the shit out of your leg by the time Billy decided to slam down his foot on the pedal. The door shuts fast. The car speeds off before it has the chance.

You watched him drive away, with just as much intensity as the boy inside the car watched you in the rearview.

As your house began to shrink away into the distance, and the glare of the car grew smaller and smaller. You could hardly see those searing blue eyes the way you did in class. Though this time, instead of a look of hatred or scorn, it was one of fear and dread.

And maybe, just maybe, if there were more light shining on his face, it would reflect a thousand scenarios playing on his cheeks. Not that you would've been able to tell from all the way out here.

"Fuck. "

#stranger things #billy hargrove x male reader #billy hargrove #billy hargove x reader #will byers #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #mike wheeler #max mayfeild #dustin henderson #angst #billy hargrove is gay

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hunterthecharmer · 1 month ago

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Unexpected - Part 6

Thank you for being patient with me on this :) please give me any feedback or ideas/suggestions!

Since the convention has come to an end with this chapter, we will be moving on to focus on GP x reader's relationship (I am so excited!) these will feel more like fics/one shots going forward since a lot of the context has been built.

Summary: You work for an events company and end up being assigned as a talent handler for a 2 week long convention. Your co-worker ends up assigned to Glen Powell, but you catch his eye. Can you remain professional and keep him from knowing you're actually a pretty big fan of his?

Need to catch up? Here is my Masterlist

“Can you believe it’s the last day? It’s been an incredible experience but I really miss my bed.” Savannah whines as she assists you in smoothing out the tablecloths. You and the rest of the staff were in the middle of setting up the large event space for the special brunch for the talent’s final day. The grounds had been freshly mowed the night before and the weather was crisp outside.

The chefs had been working since 5am on the spread; homemade biscuits, jams, eggs of all kinds, bacon and other bacon substitutes, pancakes, belgian waffles…the list was a page and a half long. All of the guests were also attending a final acting class together, a group dinner with a special screening of some sort, with a campfire to end the day. The campfire was also for the staff as well, and there would be an open bar.

“Do you think Glen will sit next to you tonight?” Savannah’s question brings a smile to your face. “I hope so. It’ll be my last chance to see him before the shuttles take them to the airport tomorrow.”

You frown at the realization, you had no way to get in contact with Glen outside of here other than a direct message on instagram. He probably had a hundred messages a day, no doubt. You had his number for the brief time you were in charge of him, but that was on Savannah’s work phone, which had to be turned in by midnight tonight. Same with yours. Otherwise, you had no way to contact any of the guests after today, and the contract all of you signed before coming here was very clear on their ‘do not write down any of the talent’s personal information rule.

----

The brunch goes off without a hitch, the talent enjoying their lesson whole scarfing down the large layout of food. You and the rest of the handlers enjoyed your own breakfasts in one of the trailers, thankful that instead of your regular options of boiled eggs or yogurt parfaits it was catered from Starbucks.

The rest of the afternoon is packed with breaking down the other event spaces that aren't being used, folding up all the chairs and packing up the event signs you had brought. Lugging all the heavy items across the lawn all day had tired you out, so the second everything was packed up you took yourself directly back to your cabin to take a nap before the bonfire.

You all but slam the door behind you, slipping out of your Ugg boots while simultaneously shrugging off your Ignite crew neck and scarf. After slipping under the comforter, you plug your phone into the charger and set an alarm, giving yourself an hour to rest. You didn’t mind arriving at the event a little late if it meant you’d have some energy back.

….

Savannah’s POV

“She’s not answering my calls, are you sure she said she was coming tonight?” Dylan asks, shaking his head as he locks his phone after dialing a third time.

“I swear she did! She’s been excited for the bonfire all day. We worked our butts off, maybe she took a nap? I know she disappeared earlier..” her voice trails off, wondering if you were okay. She stirs her drink, lowering her gaze to the flames in front of her. Glen’s eyes catch hers, the expression on his face unreadable.

“Did you need me to grab you another smore?” Savannah asks, starting to stand from her chair. He chuckles, throwing his head back, “I’ve already had 3, are you trying to make my trainer hate me?”

She laughs along with him as she settles back into her seat. She notices his gaze sweeping around the lawn again, just as he had done too many times to count in the last hour.

Pulling her phone out of her jeans pocket she dials you again, muttering to herself that she hopes you pick up.

“Thank you.” is all you hear on the other end of the line, your friend’s voice extremely raspy.

“Hurry up and get yourself down here! You’re missing the fire and it’s our last night.” She playfully yells into the phone before hanging up on you.

“She’ll be here soon.”

----

You rub the ball of your palm into your eyelid, squinting at the time. Apparently you had snoozed your alarm multiple times, missing the first hour or so of the event.

You hurriedly throw the blankets off of you and flatten your hair in the mirror, deciding to throw it into a messy ponytail to conceal the frizz. Grabbing an oversized cardigan from your suitcase on the floor, you take your perfume lying in the compartment next to it and spritz some around your neck and down your arms to your wrists.

You then step into your uggs for the second time that day and sprint out the door to your golf cart.

“She decided to grace us with her presence at last.” Dylan teases you, standing from his seat to give you a hug as you stroll up to him and Savannah. You take note of the others seated with them, Glen being one of them. You feel your heart flutter, hoping there was an empty chair available next to him.

“Sorry guys, I totally snoozed my alarm. I was exhausted after tearing everything down today! Sav, how are you still going?” you bend down in front of her to shake her shoulders and she giggles, but you can see how heavy her eyes are.

“I definitely circled back to the Starbucks after everyone got their drinks and grabbed an extra iced coffee when no one was watching. I knew it’d be a long day.”

The group commends her, playfully clapping as she bows her head proudly.

You turn around toward Glen and shoot him a shy smile over the fire, his green eyes shining at you. He hooks a finger and gestures for you to come over to him, so you do.

“Well hello.” He says lowly once you’re within earshot, his hands tapping his lap as you realize there isn’t an empty chair left for you. Your eyes widen and you step back from him slightly, nervously looking around at the group. Out of your peripheral you notice his expression falter slightly, but he recovers quickly. “Here, take my seat! I’ll go find another one.”

Glen jumps up, pointing at the chair before heading off towards other groups on the line.

You feel your heart sink as you sit down, eyes following after him. He didn’t really think you’d sit on his lap did he? You were technically still working, and all the staff was around. It was the last night though, so maybe it would have been fine. You were so embarrassed, you hoped it wouldn't come up again.

He returns quickly, wedging his chair between you and another guest. You feel your shoulders relax as he leans back in his seat, falling into conversation with the others. You can’t rip your gaze from his face, watching as the flames illuminate his features. You love the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, his hand gestures as he talks bringing you in even more.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Savannah whispers into your ear, her sudden presence from behind startling you. She hands you a smore wrapped in a paper towel before rounding the group back to her seat.

You take a bite of the gooey treat, wiping the crumbs from the graham crackers off your lips. When you notice Glen’s eyes on you, you freeze.

“Hi.” He silently mouths, lips turning up into a smile. You feel your expression soften at him as you mouth back to him, “Missed you.”

To this he feigns surprise, pointing to his chest before leaning toward you over the armchair.

“Ditto, pretty girl.”

Your heart melts as you lean toward him, chin propped on your hand as you both lock eyes. You felt like you were 17 again, giddily smiling at your school crush. “Did you enjoy your last day of the convention?”

Glen nods, flashing his journal at you from beneath his chair, thumbing quickly through the pages to show pages upon pages full of his handwriting. You hum proudly at him, impressed.

“Which film did they have you guys analyze at dinner?”

He fills you in on the event, what they watched and everyone’s feedback and interpretations. Apparently everyone passed the surprise quiz at the end, and he raved about the menu.

The two of you continue to talk for the next while, unaware that some of the members of your circle, including Dylan, had gotten up and moved around the lawn to switch places with other guests. The seat next to Glen was now occupied by a heavy set male, not anyone you recognized. You could smell the alcohol on him from where you sat, but you only noticed it - you were fully focused on the sandy blonde haired guy next to you.

His southern accent rises above the multiple conversations happening around the fire in an aggravated tone. “Anyone else get cut off from the bartender tonight?”

Everyone’s attention falls on him, shaking their heads no. He huffs, “Just me, huh? I’ve only had three beers, I don’t get it. I’m fine! I’m just trying to enjoy the last night here for crying out loud. Hey, you work here right? Can’t you get me another?”

His eyes are now on you in anticipation. You peer past Glen to meet his bloodshot eyes, “Um, if he cut you off there’s nothing I can do. Sorry friend!’ You give him a sympathetic smile, glancing around for someone with a lanyard with his face on it. “What’s your name? Maybe your handler can talk to-”

“The name’s Johnny Curtis. And I’d really appreciate that, darlin’.” He drawls before downing the last of his drink from the can.

“Be right back, gang!” you jump up from your chair and meander through the grass to the registration building. You flip through the binder behind the desk, finding the name and number of Johnny’s handler. She answers after a few rings, “Hi, this is Megan?”

“Hi! Don’t worry, I’m working this event too. I’m sitting with Johnny and it looks like the bartender cut him off, so he’s a little upset. Can you meet me at the bar?” She agrees and you head back outside.

The two of you try to reason with the bartender, but he won’t budge. “You ladies don’t understand, this guy was a little rowdy at the event a few nights ago. He’s getting real close to his limit, just take him a spiked seltzer. That’s the best I can do.” He throws his hands up before sliding a can across the tabletop to you.

“I’m sorry, he wanted to chat with the other guests before leaving tomorrow, I didn’t think he’d try to cause a problem. He’s really sweet!” the other girl says, and you grab her arm in reassurance. “Don’t even worry about it, he’s fine. I’ll show you where we’re at!”

She follows close behind you through the lawn, Johnny’s face lighting up as soon as he sees her. “Thanks Meg! I knew you’d make it happen for me.” She grins, handing him the beverage. She chats quietly with him as you take your seat again, Glen’s warm hand squeezing yours as you do. “All good?”

You nod at him, waving to Megan as she leaves the group.

“Now what in the world is this sorry excuse for alcohol? Did y’all really bring me back a girly drink?”

Johnny’s voice is a mix of irritability and playfulness as he runs a hand through his dark head of hair. Glen turns to face him this time, reading the label on the can.

“Ah, Ranch Water. They are pretty good man! You oughta give it a try.” He offers, and Johnny gives him a look, eyebrow raised as he takes another long sip.

It’s silent for a moment around the fire before everyone returns to their sidebar conversations.

A few moments pass before Johnny spits his drink out near his feet, Savannah’s lip turning up in disgust. “I’m not finishing this.” he mumbles, before tossing the half full can into the flames.

Others in the circle gasp, “Dude, you aren’t supposed to do that. It’ll explode!”

In an instant, the can pops and tiny pieces of aluminum come flying out of the fire.

A burning sensation causes a hand to fly up to your cheek, fingers landing on a hot scrap of aluminum near your cornea. You let out a shriek as pain begins to spread down to your under eye area, and you instinctively jump up out of your chair, almost tripping over your feet.

Holding a hand over your right eye you make a beeline for the bathroom, a pair of silent footsteps following close behind you.

Once you burst through the door, you lower your hand as you stare into the mirror. You let out a sigh of relief at your eye still being intact with no bleeding or anything. Your tear duct and cornea were extremely red and puffy, but that was about it. A dark greyish black sludge had dried onto your cheek.

Your eyes meet Savannah who is standing right next to you, her face ashen. “Are you alright? I’m gonna get him in so much trouble for that. He really could have injured you or someone else!”

You try to mask your disappointment that Glen hadn’t been the one to follow you as you take a paper towel from Savannah, drenching it in cold water before wiping at your cheek to remove the stinging mess from your face. “It could have been a lot worse.” your voice is small.

After a few moments, your face is clean again and the burning sensation has subsided even though the irritation to your cornea hasn’t.

You turn around to face your friend, exhaling deeply. “Let’s get back out there, I want to say goodbye to everyone before turning in for the night.”

Savannah nods before pulling you in for a hug. She follows you out the door, but runs into you as you stop short - Glen is standing outside the building.

“Are you okay?” His expression is pained as he reaches to hold your face, inspecting your eyes.

Savannah excuses herself to head back to the bonfire.

“I’m lucky it wasn’t worse.” you say, shoulders sagging a bit. You wrap an arm around his bicep, moving closer to him. He places his index finger and thumb above and below your right eye as he gives it a final look before peppering your face with kisses, careful to avoid the area. You scrunch your nose at the affection, giggling as you now grip both of his arms. He plants a final feather-like kiss to the spot just below the corner of your eye and it makes you swoon. He was being so gentle and sweet.

“All better.” You beam up at him before tugging him toward your golf cart.

“For what it’s worth, I definitely told that guy off. What a jackass, throwing a half empty can of alcohol into the fire like that. He could’ve taken you or anyone else’s eye out!”

You laugh. “Yeah, what an idiot.”

Glen convinces you to let him drive you back to your cabin, insisting on walking back to his cabin afterward since you had to turn in the cart first thing the next morning. Always the gentleman!

As you take off, a twinge of sadness in your chest as you realize this is the last golf cart ride you’ll take together. You focus hard to take in every detail of his face, the scent of his cologne, the way his green eyes look at you. The sound of your laughs mixing together as he swerves all over the path without a care in the world.

As soon as the cart is in park you muster up the last of your bravery where he is concerned and wrap your arms around his neck to press a kiss to his cheek. He smiles as he turns his head and kisses you softly. He runs a hand through your hair while the other rests on your collarbone.

You lose yourself in the kiss, his lips tasting like a mixture of chocolate and alcohol. You hear multiple carts fly past but you can’t bring yourself to care - you had done your job these last two weeks and had a can explode on you tonight. Plus, this was your last moment with Glen freaking Powell. No way were you about to pull away from him right now.

He finally pulls away, both of you breathless. “By the way,” he looks out at the others walking to their cabins in the dark, making sure you both aren’t being watched, “are you going to add me back or not?”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Add you back? What are you talking about?”

He grabs his phone out of his back pocket and holds it in front of your face.

“Check it.” He grins.

You slide your phone out of your pocket and unlock it, opening up Instagram to find a follow request from the man sitting next to you.

You tilt your head to the side, deciding to tease him. “Hmm I don’t know, do I really want to allow you access to my amazing photos?” You wink at him before pressing the blue confirm button.

“You were already following me, sorry it took me this long to add you back.” He jokes, but your breath hitches. Oh no - hopefully he doesn’t think much of it.

You let out a nervous laugh and slide off the cart, grabbing the key.

“Can I borrow that for a sec?” He asks, pointing to your iPhone. “Sure?”

You hand it over to him, watching as he types his number into your phone.

He places it into your palm as he meets your gaze, searching your face as he steps closer to you. “Well…”

“Well..” you copy him, not wanting to say goodbye. He leans forward to press his forehead to yours, swallowing hard.

“Guess I’ll see ya around?” His tone is hopeful.

You frown slightly, “Will you?”

He hangs his head with a soft laugh. “Probably not. That’s why I gave you my number - you know, so I can?”

Lifting his chin with your finger, you smile at him. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Glen Powell. I hope you get home safely tomorrow!”

He kisses your nose before slowly backing away from you down the path. “The pleasure was all mine!” He shouts, arms outstretched on either side of him. You giggle, waving to him as you watch him disappear down the path to his cabin. You shake your head in disbelief as you walk up the stairs to your front door and begin your nighttime routine. The last interaction with Glen replays like a movie in your mind as you brush your teeth, slip into your pajamas and lay your head on the pillow. You can’t wipe the smile off your face as you lie restless in the dark, setting your alarm for the next morning to take Dylan to the shuttles.

These last two weeks have been unexpected in more ways than one, but ending them with Glen Powell’s number in your phone? Now that is a plot twist you would never have seen coming.

#glen powell #glen powell fanfic #glen powell fic #glen powell x reader

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lolasimms · 2 years ago

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a lots gonna change pt.15

Summary: Married life isn’t great, infidelity ensues, and things change.

next chapter

“It’s currently 9:45 pm, we have a code 245, there’s been a stabbing. Female, age 24, Name; Ellie Williams”

8:00 AM

Ellie had been having a shitty past two weeks, ever since the fight at Joel’s. Part of her longed for your forgiveness, she’d worn her heart on her sleeve, tried to reconcile with you and it all went down the drain because she couldn’t control her anger. She knew a sincere apology would earn her your forgiveness, but she couldn’t bare facing you at the moment.

Sat on the alfresco, basking in the fresh spring air, Ellie sat nursing a warm latte. The backyard that once housed Lila’s playhouse and the swing-set that she and JJ had played tirelessly on, were now gone. The vast lawn only being home to a few stray lawn chairs and the unused barbecue. It was only recently that Ellie had realised how lonely she was. Without Lila here for most of the week, the only company she had was her own, and that was her biggest fear, being alone.

Immediately thoughts of nostalgia flooded her brain, the first time you and her had set up a slip and slide during a hot summer day for Lila to cool off on. The vigorous get togethers you and Dina would put together during the holidays, The time she’d built Lila’s crib in this very backyard with Joel’s help. It was all too much and yet not enough. She yearned for that back, it was all she wanted, no matter how long it would take. Her brain kept repeating the words “Atone, Atone, Atone.”

11:45 AM

“Ellie, look at this shit.” Vic hands her his phone, showing her some meme that usually she’d crack up at. Instead she just glanced at it, let out a fake chuckle and shifted her focus back to the movie that was playing on Vic’s television. Having known her since college, Vic knew her reaction was fake. From the corner of her eye she could spy him placing his phone down and turning to her with a questioning face.

“Alright, what’s with you, you’ve been sulking ever since you got here?” She looks at him in annoyance, who was he to be pestering her?

“I’m fine man, just tired.” She wastes no time turning her attention back to the television, having had enough of the short conversation.

“Els, as much as I’d like to believe that, I don’t. Just telling me what’s wrong?” Vic and Ellie’s friendship had always been the same since freshman year of college. They never got emotional or sappy with each other, they were just those kinds of friends who enjoyed hanging together and most times it was in comfortable silence. So to see Vic so concerned for her made Ellie feel weird. Maybe she did have people on her side, maybe she wasn’t all alone.

“I’ve just been thinking man. I’ve been feeling really alone lately and I” she pauses, taking a breath as a lump forms in her throat. “I just miss my family, I want them back so bad Vic” She didn’t know why she felt so emotional all of a sudden, but she broke down into tears, something unusual for her. Vic didn’t know what to do, so instead he enveloped her in an awkward but warm embrace.

“You’re not alone Ellie, you’ve still got them. No matter what happens you’ll always have them”

2:30 PM

After her heart to heart with Vic, Ellie decided she couldn’t let herself loose the only people she loved. She knew the only way to end these feelings of isolation was to make an effort to spend more time with her loved ones. So the first thing she did was call Joel, asking if he was free. He was taken by surprise, as the two of them didn’t spend as much one on one time together as they used to. So when she suggested they go fishing, he was on his feet getting the gear together in no time.

“How you been, ain’t heard from you since that fiasco at my party?” Joel says, as he prepares his rod and bait. Ellie doing the same with her’s, letting out a subtle sigh and turning to him. The two of them were sat on quite uncomfortable camping chairs.

“I’ve been feeling pretty shitty, Y/n won’t talk to me, she’s still mad.”

“She got a right to be, your lil show was stupid and immature, you’re real lucky Lila was asleep”

“I know, and I feel bad about it.”

“So toughen up, apologise.” He stands up, casting his rod and then looks back at her expectantly, she doesn’t know what to say but just nods. She lifts from her chair and walks over to where he’s standing, casting her rod as well.

“I’m sorry Joel, I know I fucked up your party, I shouldn’t have acted that way” He turns to look at her and shakes his head with a smile.

“Honestly if you’d been fighting anybody else I would’ve been happy, just not under the circumstances that you did. It was sorta entertaining” He lets out a deep chuckle and Ellie laughs, shaking her head.

“I’m so telling Y/n” Ellie smirks as she nudges Joel with her shoulder, causing him to groan and do the same to her.

“Don’t you fucking dare”

5:30 PM

Joels living room looked the same as it always did, dvd’s from years ago lined up on the bottom shelf of the tv stand, brown sofa’s with plaid cushions and a few candles that were surely gifts from you and Lila. A game of basketball played as he and Ellie sat nursing beers and reminiscing.

“You remember your first drink, you spit out my most expensive whiskey?” Joel places his glass on the side table and laughs.

“I hate to break it to you man, but that wasn’t my first drink.” Ellie lifts up the glass of beer, waiting for his reaction to the news.

“What’dya mean that wasn’t your first drink? It was your 21st birthday.” He turns to her, eyes narrowed in curiosity.

“Joel do you really think when I was going to my friends birthday’s in high school I was just drinking pop and juice? You do realise I had my first proper drink in like 10th grade” Ellie can’t help but laugh at his shocked reaction, he truly couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“I can’t believe you”

“Get over it dude, it was like 8 years ago,. Plus I turned out pretty okay don’t you think?”

“You wait till its Lila, you little dipshit, then you’ll know how it feels” Ellies face sinks at the thought of her precious girl going anywhere near alcohol, parties, men or women. Joel takes in the angered look on her face and smirks, taking her reaction as his revenge.

7:45 PM

Ellie was currently pushing her trolley around the store, in search for things she wanted to get Lila for her easter basket. The two of you weren’t raising her to be religious, but you weren’t opposed to letting her enjoy the fun aspects of holidays like easter, Christmas, etc. Seeing as easter was approaching, Ellie wanted to go all out for her little girl. Anything purple that had to do with easter she’d throw into the cart, knowing that was Lila’s favourite colour. She couldn’t wait to see the smile on her baby’s face when she saw the basket full of goodies.

Another part of her was excited that you’d be spending easer together as a family, along with Dina, Jesse and JJ. She’d take that as her chance to apologise for what she’d done at Joel’s party. Atone for her mistakes and assure you that she would be willing to respect your relationship with Abby if it meant she’d have a shot at getting you back.

“Hey, Jesse” She had one arm pushing the shopping cart and the other holding her phone to her ear as she waited for his response, glancing around the isles filled with Easter themed decor.

“Hey Els, you at the store right now?” Though she and Dina’s relationship never recovered after the separation, she was still quite close with Jesse. Seeing as he was the only one who was civil towards her despite her mistakes.

“Yeah, picking the shit for the hunt up right now?”

“Sounds good, I know you have Lila tomorrow, would you mind have JJ over, he’s been pestering me about it all day long.”

“Yeah man, sure”

8:20 PM

After leaving the store with a trolley filled to the brim, Ellie was ready to get home and pass out. She’d had a long day and Lila would be coming round early morning, not to mention she’d be looking after two noisy and energetic kids instead of one. As she made her way down her street she was intrigued to see two random cars she hadn’t ever seen before, parked by the curb. Ignoring them, she got the three large shopping bags, from the trunk and made her way into the house.

“Hey Ellie” She’s startled by the voice and immediately recognises it, she reaches to find the light switch. Once the hallway is lit by the bright yellow light she’s met with the familiar blonde from her past, stood in her hallway with a knife clutched tightly to her side . Immediately she drops the bags onto the floor and steps forward. She thanked the God’s that Lila was with you tonight, or else she would’ve died right here.

“Amelia, what the fuck are you doing here? You know I could call the police, right?” Ellie stands with her arms by her sides, fists clenched in anger. If she hadn’t been such an idiot this woman would’ve never ruined her and your lives. She wished that in some way she could go back in time and change all of this, relive the day she got tangled up with this psychopath and steer clear of her at all costs.

“It’s been a while hasn’t it, have you missed me?” Amelia comes closer to Ellie, by this point they’re no more than a few inches away from each other. The only thing Ellie can focus on is the large knife she was holding. Dressed in head to toe black, with a pair of black gloves. Ellie prayed to god that if she was going to die tonight it wouldn’t be you and Lila who came in and found her body.

“It’s been two fucking years Amelia, why do you still care about this, how the fuck did you even get in here?” Ellie is now yelling, looking down at the blonde with fury tainted in her eyes.

“I don’t care Ellie, I told you you’d regret the day you rejected me and I wasn’t lying. Anyways, I have people who will do anything for me, getting a key to your weak door was easy.”

“What the fuck do you want, you have 2 minutes or I’m calling the police, this is breaking and entering as well as trespassing” Amelia is now face to face with Ellie causing the auburn haired girl to recline back in disgust.

“I want you Els, that’s all I’ve ever wanted” The look of raging delirium in her eyes sends shivers down Ellies spine. Amelia reaches forwards enveloping her in a wanting kissing her. Ellie thinks this may be a chance for her to restrain the crazy bitch and then call the police while she’s distracted. She’s however taken aback when she hears a groan and then sees blood pooling on her shirt. Her whole body runs cold, Amelia talking a step back and smirking at the knife that was currently plunged into Ellie’s stomach.

“But I want revenge more”

Ellie hadn’t realised that she’d been stabbed until Amelia had retracted and said those words. She fell to the ground her head crashing against the hard wood floors with a loud ‘thump’. Meanwhile Amelia was laughing maniacally as Ellie slowly became taken by dizziness, her eyes blurring and her ears beginning to ring. She wasn’t afraid of death necessarily, she was just afraid of what the outcomes entailed. She was afraid you’d come here tomorrow morning, to drop off Lila and the two of you would find her dead body laying in the doorway, lifeless. She was afraid Joel would have to live with the knowledge he’d lost the only two daughters he’d ever had. Most importantly she was afraid she’d go out without having earned atonement for all the hurt she had caused. So as she slowly drifted out of consciousness the only thing in her mind were the words “Atone, Atone, Atone, Atone” repeating themselves like a mantra.

taglist;

@moonlightdivine @maybe-cece @macaroni676 @sawaagyapong @katiemars @ellieseater @dakota-dream @joliettes @hebrokeimup @bratydoll @wakasaaa @catostrophiclesbian @dinas-a-bird @lazyunknownwerewolf @h3sitant-alien @ceo-of-ellie-simps @mechetegirl109 @kashoot-me269 @lonelyfooryouonly @ellieswifee @doodlebob-mp3 @ellieismami

#ellie williams x reader #ellie tlou #ellie williams #reader x ellie williams #tlou ellie #ellie x reader #ellie williams fic #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams tlou #abby anderson x reader #reader x abby anderson

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featherlumina · 6 months ago

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hmmm 1 and 22?

Heck yea thank you so much for the ask @banorawhite! :D

1. The character everyone gets wrong.

You know 'im, you love 'im, it's the one and only Genesis Rhapsodos, babey~! Honestly, I've seen people treat him like he's some special kind of terrible for an antagonist whilst not holding the same measure to other characters who have behaved just as bad. Do I condone any of the terrible actions he took? Of course not! Do I also find him infinitely fascinating and nuanced and not just a one-dimensional poetry-quoting asshole? Yes! I get Mr. Rhapsodos drove quite a people mad with his LOVELESS-quoting tendencies, and I will say that Crisis Core suffered for being limited to the PSP and from some poor writing choices. But I'll also say that if Square had properly contrasted his pre-and-post degradation mental state and built a sturdy foundation of his friendship with Angeal and Sephiroth, the impact of his desertion and the betrayal he felt would've hit much harder. that's what fanart and fanfic are for and Genesis is so much richer for it

22. Your favourite part of canon that everyone else ignores.

I bet there's a bunch, but my brain is malfunctioning and all I can think of right now is not quite something that's ignored per-se but I haven't seen much on yet. Gillian Hewley's house in Banora is covered in lovely nature photos that I am certain were taken by Angeal and gifted to her by him to brighten things up.

Also, another obscure thing that I noticed that when Zack goes to Banora in Crisis Core, there are wreaths on all the doors of the houses. The timeline notes that this happens in December, which would imply these are festive decorations. And that just kind of breaks my heart for whatever reason cause it means the village was taken over not long after people put out decorations. Ouch.

Also I need to mention my headcanon that Mideel appears to be in the southern hemisphere, which means Banora has a summer Christmas. And cause I'm Australian, for years I've had the mental image of Genesis, Sephiroth and Angeal (and screw timelines, Zack and Cloud too) having a typical Aussie barbeque/Christmas celebration in Banora. Think Angeal on the barbie, cooking up a storm and chugging a beer, Zack and Cloud playing backyard cricket, Genesis and Sephiroth sitting in those dingy white lawn chairs in shorts and silly Christmas shirts with sunnies on, Gillian putting together a pavlova, etc.

#banorawhite #ask feather #featherhead thoughts #genesis rhapsodos #angeal hewley #sephiroth #crisis core #final fantasy vii #ff7 #ffvii #zack fair #cloud strife #I still need to visit Banora Point in northern NSW at some stage #I've wanted to for YEARS #just to get a silly photo by a road sign with the dumbapple I painted eons ago

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onboardsorasora · 1 year ago

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in love with Max reducing high-performance athlete Daniel into a pile of mush on the bed. Daniel’s definitely moving slower the next day on the court.

Anonstie, you know wassup. There's no way that that doesn't stay with you, you know?

Daniel in media all day: 🥴😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

Pt 6?

"Oi!"

Daniel snapped out of his daydream, grunting as a tennis ball hit his stomach.

"Sorry. My bad." He coughed and readied himself behind the line. He shook his head to dislodge the dirty dirty thoughts that have been following him all day.

Last night with Max was amazing. Way more of a good time than he had anticipated.

Way way more.

He hadn't been folded like a lawn chair in a while. His body was still buzzing, his hole was feeling phantom thrusts at this point. Was that the breeze, it felt like Max's breath on his neck.

"DR!"

"Shit, fuck. Sorry" Daniel shook his shoulders out and bounced in place for a second.

He'd been spacing out all day, having all sorts of sex flashbacks at very inconvenient moments. Luckily he was able to save it in his media duties this morning. Making jokes in various interviews that he was reliving winning the Australian Open, which always opened the floor to follow up questions about the same then brought the interview back to whatever original question they'd asked him about the French.

Blake noticed though. Blake always noticed. And he wasn't happy with Daniel's distraction. He'd told Michael, like a fuckin' narc. And now here he was in punishment. Today was supposed to be a gaddamn rest day or whatever.

He'd already run fifty million laps, did too many burpees and now, well he wasn't paying attention now was he.

His body this morning was pleasantly achy and sore. Now though, now, he needed an ice bath something fierce. These fuckers.

"Maybe you shouldn't meet up with Max until after the Open, if this is gonna be what we have to deal with." Daniel heard Michael mutter exasperatedly.

"Whoa whoa there. Maybe we shouldn't be so hasty." Daniel chimed in. It wasn't that bad, there was no need to make such sweeping judgments.

"DR, you've been biting your lip and blushing all fuckin' day. You just daze off." Blake glared.

"You've been distracted as all fuck, and you keep reaching for your phone." Michael raised a brow judgingly.

Ok maybe it was so bad. Yikes on a bike.

"Jesus Christ we've never seen you so dick whipped."

"It's great that you got some. But can we not have it interfere with your season?"

"Ok ok so maybe, I kinda sorta am dickmatized." Daniel offered, placatingly. "It won't affect the Open. I promise."

"It better fuckin' not." Blake narrowed his eyes, fingers pointed. Daniel didn't want to disappoint his team. They worked too hard for this. He worked too hard for this. He can't be distracted now. Not by some guy. Even though he was hot as fuck and built like an absolute unit and his tongue felt so good and he already seemed to figure out how Daniel liked to be fucked an-

"Jesus H Macy!" Micheal threw his hands up and walked off the court.

The power rangers/kim possible theme went off in his bag.

Daniel smiled at Blake's annoyance, embarrassed. Just a little. He really got it bad.

#max/daniel #dr3 #maxiel #mv33 #tennis au #tennis!dan #tennis player!dan #drabble practice #au drabble #drabble #my ficlets #my fics

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donutlover417 · 9 months ago

Text

okay i routinely write shit down while half asleep so here's a post of some of my favorites -It’s midnight. I approach, t-posing. This slowly morphs into me doing fornite dances, and then dabbing, all as I chant YouTuber intros. You watch in horror as my Body turns to plastic and contorts until I morph into a fidget spinner. the roblox oof sound effect blasts loud enough to make ears bleed. God has returned.

-Why are chairs so terrifying what secrets do they hold -Caterpillars control the government -God is like a bee he doesnt have legs -What if you yelled at a rock and it yelled back

-I had a dream that m&ms introduced a new character called “mister white-y” who was a whiteboard with glasses, a tie, and glasses and the internet by freaked out because he “wasn’t even a candy” and people began writing MASSIVE analysis videos on his design and why he suck’s super badly Going into massive detail on why each and every aspect of his design sucked He wasn’t in the main line up of m&ms he was a side character

-gay culture is discussing if snails have emotions at 1 am

-I love candle wax I could just rub it all over my body -Dream where someone gets turned to stone and yells “guess I’m sus” while doing an amongus pose before getting turned and everyone was really really really sad wholesome that that was the last night he chose to do

-Amab. Assigned mogus at birth

-Imagine if vaginas were like cheese graters so every time a dude had sex his penis would get smaller. And period’s are just the built up penis bit falling out . That assumes all Afab people have sex tho, which they don’t

-Cocaine belt buckle

-Sex is like mowing the lawn i like to do it with a lawnmower

-Bill wurtz airplane ticket Atlanta Georgia 8;00 pm

-Cake face (body horror)

-Piss is undefinable

-Slime@ rancher dead god

-The bite of an amongus can actually cause arthritis

-Flap my ass like flappy birddddd

-“You know, I’ve jerked off to your wanted poster.”

-Man with hotdogs for eyes

-Egg the walrus husband greets you when you come back from work

-Nine legged baby. it crawls with it's face legs

-why do charmin ads always feel less like toilet paper ads more like someone’s fetish

-I’m just like a turtle I can’t rent my cock

-black hole vagina steals your penis

#long ass post #half asleep

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dumbass-tumbler-cryptid · 1 year ago

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Can you do more headcanons about the Quaritch-Socorro family if Paz was alive? ☺️

I definitely can! I actually wrote these months ago I just never posted them so I hope you enjoy!

Part 1, Part 2, Part3, Part 4

The summer before Spider started the fourth grade a new house started getting built just down the road from there’s

The kids were all excited. Their parents had built their house in an empty stretch of land fifteen minutes outside of town so they had never had neighbors before.

Miles and Paz on the other hand were not excited. They built their house in seclusion for a reason dammit!

Almost every morning Spider would find his parents standing on the front porch, sipping their morning coffee, seething as they watched the construction works, and speculating about their future neighbors.

“They're building a lot of rooms. I sure hope it’s a big family moving in”

Miles scowled, “why the hell would you want that?”

Paz looked at him like he was a moron “ah so our kids can have some friends.”

Miles waved her off, “they’ve got each other don’t they” Paz rolled her eyes so hard it was a surprise they didn’t pop out of her head

“Is that a wheelchair ramp they’re building?”

“Must be old.”

Paz smirked, “You're not so young yourself.”

“Hey!”

Also that summer Spider’s parents signed him up for sports.

Not because his parents are sports people or are hoping Spider gets a sports scholarship one day

It’s because even with the fucking obstacle course in the backyard there kid just has too much energy

Through trial and error they land on soccer being the sport for Spider.

Spider has fun. He likes his teammates, and he’s good at the game.

Miles gets into it.

He went from not giving a shit about soccer to being that obnoxious sports dad yelling directions on the sidelines and getting into screaming matches with parents on the opposite team.

Meanwhile it’s 8 am on a Saturday, Paz is there sitting on a lawn chair with her sunglasses on, nursing her daughter on one boob, cheap concession stand nachos balanced on the other, her younger sons playing around her, and it’s her husband that’s exhausting and embarrassing her.

And then Miles gets a rival

An equally obnoxious soccer mom has gotten into some serious screaming matches with Miles

Like so bad the referee has almost kicked them out multiple times

From the look of embarrassment of two boys on the opposite team Paz figures those are her sons.

Paz gets so fed up with her husband that when Spider is scheduled to play that particular team again, she sneaks a megaphone in with her.

When Miles and that mom inevitably gets into a screaming match so bad the ref pauses the game, Paz breaks it out and yells “will all obnoxious sports parents please SIT DOWN!”

The mom is stunned for a second while Miles just looks back seething.

“Especially if you’re my husband and you don’t want a divorce!”

Spider is laughing his ass off as his father takes his seat red faced and grumbling to himself

Another laugh can be heard from across the field as the mom rejoins her husband and daughter.

Paz watches them for a second, taking her sunglasses off and squinting to make sure she’s really seeing who she thinks she’s seeing

Then into the megaphone “is that Jake Sully!”

The man in the wheelchair looks up, recognition dawning on his face, “Paz Socorro!”

“Holy shit man! We haven’t seen you since you could walk!”

The Sully family had moved into town after relocating from Neytiri’s homeland.

And yes they were going to be the Quaritch-Socorro household’s new neighbors.

#spider socorro #miles spider socorro #colonel miles quaritch #miles quaritch #paz socorro

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thetorturerwrites · 2 years ago

Text

Grey Ch 1: Slippery When Wet

A/N: Well, here I am again but with something new. For background, this story takes place in modern times. I lived through the 80s, and I just can't bring myself to write about them. I also feel strongly that you can move the entire ST cast and story forward 40 years, and everything still works. There is always a group of misfits.

We'll be skirting the line between reader insert and OC, but I figure if we as readers can imagine ourselves as cheerleaders or secret agents, you can come with me on this particular journey.

Lastly, I don't have any fancy content warnings since this story is in its infancy, but I will update them as I go. I also don't like to disclose my plans. So, you'll just have to be as surprised as I am when updates occur. ;)

I hope you enjoy.

For @fracturedarkness

***

The first time you saw Eddie Munson, you sat outside your trailer doing your very best to dissociate from your past.

Fall had not yet turned into winter, but here in Indiana, the predominantly flat landscape made the strong chill in the air bite at your cheeks and sting your eyes. It was unfamiliar terrain, a stark difference from what you’d left, but you told yourself you’d drive until you ran out of gas. But when you did, it still didn’t feel far enough. You hastily refueled and kept on driving, ending up in Hawkins, Indiana. It felt like another world, light years away from the one you’d fled.

And so there you sat, in a rickety, green, folding lawn chair outside a half-orange, single-wide, drafty trailer bundled up in a hoodie, thick boots, and the only pair of blue jeans you still owned. The drab, brown grass and near winter-dormant trees matched your mood - somber. You reminded yourself to be grateful for this freedom, this fresh air, this small, rusted out circle containing the fire you’d built to keep warm. A month ago, this patchy driveway, disturbingly freezing trailer, and miles and miles of silence were an impossibility.

You moved in through a sheet of rain and spent the next far-too-long using that rain as an excuse to hide inside and not step foot out into the world. When the rain stopped, you exited your tin can to a new type of sunlight. The air was purer here, stripped of noise and smog. With the ground finally dried out, you could start the long overdue task of a fire in the pit you were pretty sure you’d stolen from someone else’s yard. You told yourself it was for a higher purpose because tonight’s primary goal was to burn up every shred of anything that could identify you to anybody who might come looking.

You’d set your world on fire to be out here, might as well set the past on fire to match.

God, never let them come looking, you silently prayed.

You didn’t hear the van pull up, not even registering the muted metal thumping inside it, even when its driver threw the door open and spilled Judas Priest out into the night. Your focus was on the latest picture you’d tossed into the flames, watching as the smiling faces on the shiny surface blackened, blistered, and curled into themselves. Gone to nothing, like it all was. Rifling through the box for the next memory, you barely registered the crunch of boots crossing the road.

It wasn’t until a voice, masculine and smooth, broke your reverie that you even blinked. But once you did, it took a flurry of lashes, eyelids rapid-fire opening and shutting, to clear your vision before you could actually see the person standing across from you.

“Hey there?” He waved his hand in your direct line of sight until you looked at his face. “Hi. You good? Been trying to get your attention for a few minutes now.”

Canting your head slightly to the left, you studied him, all long limbs and curly hair. He was attractive in a sweet sort of way with a clear fondness for the color black. Scuffed up black boots, black jeans with worn out knees, a black and white shirt that looked to say something about hell, and an oversized black leather coat decorated with a jean vest layer. He looked as though he walked straight out of the 1980s, but in a way that was strangely charming. Charming was nothing you had room for in your life these days, regardless of how pretty he was.

Shaking your head gently, you looked down into the pale blue box, still half full, lifted out a spindly pine cone, and threw it into the fire with more force than you intended. You watched it bounce before settling into a smoldering pile of dried roses and yellow paper.

“Yeah, I’m good.” Not really in the mood for chitchat, you furrowed your brow and refocused on your task, hoping he would leave. A long, uncomfortable moment passed, though, in which he didn’t seem to get the hint. With a huff, you forced your voice into a semblance of civility. “Need something, Mister…?”

You let the word linger, assuming he was at least socially adept enough to understand the cue. When you looked up at him again, there was an amiable smile on his face, and you almost regretted the annoyance you felt a second ago.

“Eddie.” He sat - no, plopped himself pointedly right there - down on the grass across from your makeshift fire pit, happy as a pig in mud. “Name’s Eddie. Mister Munson is my uncle.” He pointed over his shoulder to the trailer directly across from yours.

"You live with your uncle?" You asked carelessly only to be slammed with immediate embarrassment. Being rude was never your intention.

He smirked.

"Yeah. It works. I work days, him nights. Saves money. Keeps the place from feeling so lonely."

If your judgment put him off, he didn't show it.

“So, whatcha up to? Missus…?”

You chuffed a slight laugh. You couldn’t help it when he mimicked you exactly, complete with a higher tone that made you appreciate the deep, richness of his natural voice. You contemplated telling him your name, but you’d promised yourself nobody would ever know where you’d gone or what became of you. Telling him your name felt like breaking that promise too soon.

“You can call me…”

Your eyes darted around, surveying what was close by to find anything that would work. Catching on the sleeve of your hoodie, you nodded to yourself. That’s the answer.

“… Grey.” To match my mood, you thought. To match everything about my damn life. “And I’m…”

You trailed off again, eyes drawn back to the crackling flames eating up your history. Memory pinched your lips, and you shook your head, numbed now by all the spent emotions, as well as the frigid air.

“Just enjoying the fire.”

Eddie hummed, nodding along as though he heard all your private thoughts and could feel their weight. He said nothing for a long time, and right when you thought he’d get up to leave, which made you feel a funny way, he broke the silence again.

“You just moved here, yeah?” Rummaging in his coat pocket, he pulled out a pack of Marlboro reds and a silver Zippo. “D’you mind?”

He waved the pack at you, seeking your permission to smoke his own cigarette in your company. Against your better sense, you found it endearing.

“Yeah. Few weeks. No, don’t mind.”

Two weeks and three days, exactly, but he didn’t need to know you kept track of how many days it had been since you’d begun this crazy endeavor. There were a lot of things you didn’t want Eddie, or anybody, to know. All of it stuffed way down inside and locked up tight. The only tangible evidence of your previous life sat heavy on your knees, a weight you desperately wanted to be rid of.

From inside the box, you drew another stack of papers - bills, letters, probably some legal stuff - and tossed them onto the burning heap. Bit by bit, the person you used to be became more and more of a myth. Glancing at your unexpected companion, you watched as he lit and drew a deep inhale from the cigarette. You thought he would surely twist or turn his head so he could read the words stamped on the topmost bill, your government name all across the front of it, but to his credit, Eddie simply stretched out his arm and offered you a drag.

“Want?”

“No thanks,” you shook your head, unable to stop the wrinkling of your nose, “I don’t like the smell.” You blinked a few times as your brain caught up to what you said. “Which seems stupid right now considering we are sitting at a fire that I built myself.”

He laughed - just once, a delighted bark in the now darkness. It shocked you how much the laugh transformed his face. The apples of his cheeks grew more pronounced, and his lips pursed attractively. He shook his head and flicked the cigarette into the fire to burn up alongside your history.

“Not stupid,” he smiled at you, warm and genuine. “Been meaning to quit anyhow. This what you do for fun?”

You couldn’t stop the stirrings of a smile.

“Oh yeah,” you nodded exaggeratedly, “every chance I get. You?”

He was practically giddy at your sudden participation but played it off coy, boyish almost. His fawn-brown eyes twinkled.

“Mmm I’m gonna hold on to that little nugget of intel.” He rubbed his hand across his face, but you couldn’t tell if it was to hide his delighted grin or to keep himself under control. “M’tryna be cool here.”

He winked at you, all cheeky-like, and you couldn’t breathe for a second.

“And this way, we’ll have something to talk about next time.”

You could hear the offer in his voice, the openness and welcoming. It shot two arrows directly into the center of your heart - one warm, trying to crack you open a fraction more and one icy cold, warning you that this was too risky, too reckless.

Pay attention!

Your anxiety screamed, straining at the seams of your insides until your head pounded and your ears rang.

“Ok. Sure…..cool…..”

Your voice trailed off because you noticed the details of him now. Details you’d missed before since you’d been directly in the center of your personal pity party.

The world went upside down.

Beat-up, old van. Long hair. Hell-something t-shirt. You belatedly registered the silver rings adorning several fingers and the guitar pick strung around his neck. Your eyes flicked from him to his van, trying to remember what had been playing when he rolled out of it this evening.

Judas Priest. Eddie was a metal head, which meant he was undoubtedly in a band, which further meant he was unquestionably a drinker or a drug user. Fuck, maybe even another goddamn drug dealer. A heavy sigh escaped, accompanied by the sag of your shoulders.

You didn’t need another version of that guy. You’d barely escaped the last one.

“Y’ok there?”

The way he looked at you was unnerving. No, the way he watched you was unnerving. He obviously recognized the moment you went from calm to anxious, and it bothered you he’d seen it.

Without really doing much, he invited you in, making some kind of space for you to feel seen and safe. But the quickness with which he made you feel at peace left you troubled. You’d lived with those uneasy feelings for far too long - the kind that had your stomach in knots and your jaw clenched as you waited for the next catastrophe. That anxiety was your constant companion, and you couldn't fathom letting it go.

Better the devil you know than the ones you don't.

You drummed agitated fingers against the corners of the box before abruptly deciding to upturn the entire thing into the fire. Standing too fast, you ignored the dizzy feeling in your head and stomped on the box with your boot to make sure it would all catch.

“Well, uh, it was nice to meet you, Eddie.” You kicked at the fire again, moving the debris around and sending bursts of smoke and ash into the air. “See you around sometime.”

It was dangerous to leave the fire unattended; you knew. But sticking around for Eddie to see too much or ask the right question you didn’t think you’d be able to not answer was even more dangerous. He was easy. Easy to be around. Easy to like. Easy to talk to. And that was simply unacceptable.

So, you did the thing you’d been doing for months.

You ran.

You slammed the door shut behind you with enough force to shake the trailer walls and turned off all the lights before sinking down onto the threadbare carpet floor in the very center of the practically empty room. Dropping your head into your hands, you waited, hoping he’d understand this cue, too, and leave you alone.

Eddie

“You can call me Grey.”

It certainly wasn’t your name, but somehow, it suited you, at least in Eddie’s estimation. You were beautiful, but you were also hemorrhaging color, joy, and want for life. It showed on your face - pretty features that lay flat with no spark to animate them.

He noticed you immediately when you moved into the trailer park. You spoke to no one, you hardly left your place, and you moved in with only an Army green duffel bag and a pillow, as far as he could tell. He never saw you unload anything else from your car, a ragged, sky blue Pinto that looked oddly right parked not so far away from his van. They would be best friends, of course.

Gradually, over the course of about a week, you stepped outside more often, and he relished the opportunities to study you. He guessed you to be roughly his height, maybe an inch or two shorter. Curvaceous, he decided even though you dressed in long pants and sleeves no matter the time of day. He couldn’t quite tell about your hair color, though. It seemed to change from morning to night, which he chalked up to the sunlight that was always in his damn face when he tried to watch you in the mornings.

At first, he felt a little creepy, but it was unavoidable. You were the most fascinating person to have ever set off his Misfit Radar. Collecting renegades and weirdos turned out to be a lifelong commitment for Eddie, though it was less intentional these days than it had been in high school. And you?

You had ‘outsider’ written all over you. He simply couldn’t help himself from seeking that connection.

So, here he was, trying - and failing - to make conversation when it was obvious all you wanted was to burn things that used to hold meaning. He was hard-wired to keep going, however, and he wanted you to crack out of that shell just enough to make the awkwardness worth it. He might know the right things to say to the oddballs and freaks, but inside, he always felt clumsy and nervous when talking to someone he found attractive.

And you were fucking gorgeous.

Once or twice, you responded beyond the bare minimum, more than out of politeness, and he saw that spark in you - the brief flash of feeling beneath all the fear, and he was right. It made the nervousness worthwhile. And when you smiled? Shot through the heart, and you were to blame. He couldn’t help but want to make you smile again. He had a feeling you didn’t do it enough. He also got the impression that whatever it was you ran from, you’d never be far enough away. But maybe he could help make you feel safe here, safe enough to start over.

For reasons he didn’t quite understand, he wanted that very much.

Long after he’d spooked you, he stayed. He understood running, but he also knew you had to make the choice to stop and be in the hard moments. It was Dustin who taught him how to push through the fear, and Eddie knew that sometimes, a person needed to see the behavior modeled before they felt comfortable enough to try it. It had certainly been true for him.

Making himself that model - even not knowing whether you could see him - he kept his eyes on the fire that was so important to you, ensuring every piece, including the box itself, burned away, all while listening for the faintest sounds of stirring inside. He wanted you to know he was still here, but he didn’t want to push you because that truly would be creepy. None came. If you knew he lingered, you didn’t give him any sign.

Quietly, trying hard to not disturb you, he tended your fire, made sure there was nothing recognizable left, and put out the flames. He mixed the ashes with the dirt and folded your lawn chair against the trailer so it wouldn’t blow away in case the wind kicked up.

And then, he went home for the night - albeit reluctantly.

Foregoing food or a shower or a smoke, he dropped into his messy bed, shook the hair from his face, and stared at the ceiling for a long time. He normally smelled like cigarettes, sometimes weed, but tonight, he smelled of campfire smoke and the nighttime air. It made him think of you, and he imagined fifty different ways he would try to talk to you tomorrow. Maybe you’d be outside tomorrow morning, seeing that he worked your fire for you, and he’d wave as he drove off to work. Maybe you’d be sitting out there when he came home, and he could keep you company again. Bring you a beer or something.

Or maybe, he’d be brave and walk right over there to knock on your door.

He made so many plans that he drifted off to sleep without settling on a specific one…

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #torturer tuesdays #grey

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