#i just know neil would NOT fuck with beaches. he gets me.

[thegayexyagenda]

the foxes get a little beach day. just as a treat.

[pinguwrites]

Dark!Neil refusing to pull out when the reader needs him to due to not being on birth control.

"no please stop, we can't! . . . hehehhehHAHHHAHA "

Drabble: dark!neil refuses to pull out

pairing | dark!neil lewis x girlfriend!reader

Warnings: non-con, smut, dark!neil, forced breeding kink, sexism, implied reader co-owns gumshoe video with neil, PROCEED WITH CAUTION, DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE

Disclaimer: Watching The Detectives characters, plots, quotes, etc. do not belong to me and belong to the rightful owner(s). This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.

A/N: you have @mrkdvidal1989 to thank for this, I took a break from another fic to get this out real quick so I could give you guys some fuel 😘. Writing about neil also reminds me of a dream I recently had where Neil spit in my mouth on a beach sooo yeah

"Fuck, Neil!"

You weren't sure what had gotten into your boyfriend today. Since morning he had been uncharacteristically handsy and needy — not that he wasn't a little pervert most days — only that it was becoming so public and obvious that you had to swat Neil's hand away and give him a warning glare just so he would quit warding of the customers, multiple times since you both arrived at Gumshoe Video.

"I had a dream," he had murmured, wrapping you up in his arms, only for his hands to slide up underneath your skirt and feel the curve of your ass, to which you had snapped at him before frantically looking around the store to see if anyone saw.

"Well," you said in response, "you can tell me about it later — Friday's are one of our busiest times!"

Neil had backed away after that, but you could still feel the longing glances he sent over to you. You almost felt bad, though you knew you had to be professional at work. Besides, you relished in the idea of teasing him.

The moment you two had stepped foot inside your shared apartment he had pinned you against the wall and attacked your lips. He carried you to your bedroom, shoved you down on the mattress, grabbed some lube, and started thrusting like mad dog.

"P-please, slow down," you whimpered, the bed shaking so hard the creaks could be heard through the halls. His cock slid in and out of you at a pace Neil never used before, filling up your walls ungracefully, like you weren't his girlfriend, but a hole.

"Can't," he moaned, burying his face in your breasts. "Can't help myself when I'm around you. Just need you so bad . . . You know that dream I was telling you about?"

"Neil — just a break — "

Neil groaned, his hot breath on your neck. "I know women aren't that smart, but c'mon, it was only this afternoon."

Neil could be sexist sometimes. Your family and friends told you to avoid men like that, which was the specific reason you avoided telling them about your boyfriend's often slips. It was just — you loved Neil. You really loved him. There wasn't much else about the topic to discuss, or at least anything you wanted to admit about how problematic it really was.

"I remember," you said, breathless. "Is this what it was about? Fucking me till I pass out?"

"I bred you."

You froze, though your body was still moving due to Neil's deathly grip and the way he was shoving into you so desperately.

"N-no," you protested. "You can't now, I'm not on birth control. I don't have anymore, I ran out, the store's closed — "

" — It's not just that," Neil hissed, interrupting you. "I want a child."

This was bound to happen soon. You and Neil were well on your way to marriage, but not now, not like this. Not when you knew that you both weren't ready to raise a kid.

"You're just saying that because of the dream." You placed your hands against his chest, halfheartedly pushing him off. You didn't want this to be a struggle. You were hoping that he would understand the message and pull out, but he didn't.

Neil shook his head.

"Yes," you insisted, then you got scared. You didn't want to be the woman who only married her man because she got knocked up. What if Neil and you broke up after this? That would be even worse! These few moments of pleasure weren’t worth all the headache in the future.

Neil took your hands and pinned them above your head, pushing them into the soft, cold pillow.

"You do what I say, understand?" Neil said sternly, looking right into your eyes. "Be a good girlfriend and let me give you a child."

"No," you cried out, turning your head, your fear increasing by the second.

Neil used his free hand to grab your chin and forced you to look at him. He had never been this forceful, this violent before.

"Stop being so goddamn stubborn," he spat. "You're gonna have my child wether you like it or not."

He wiped away your tears and buried his head his head back in your breasts, muttering, "Stupid bitch."

Taglist:

@henrywintersdearestgirl @shroombloom-rry @meetmeatyourworst @nela-cutie @madnessandobsession @slut4thebroken @qqquartz7 @mrkdvidal1989

[half-oz-eddie]

parental death mention

Billy received a devastating phone call from an executor, asking if they could meet at an office in town regarding his mother. 

Billy didn’t need to know much else, except the fact that it was about his mother and it was urgent. 

When he got to the office, he was given an urn, an apology, a vague explanation, and a check.

His mother died, and there was no chance of him ever seeing her again.

Billy stood in front of his car, emotionless and confused, staring down at the urn as memories of being in her arms flashed through his mind. 

And the only way he can hold her close is by clutching her urn to his chest. But the warmth was gone and he could never hope to feel it again.

He stared down at it, longingly, as if he was staring into her eyes. The sand casted urn is blonde just like her hair, iridescent and sparkling in a way he remembered the shore of the beach on their last happy day together. 

He walked, ever so slowly back to Cherry Lane, his heart heavy from the terrible news and the uncertainty of what would happen once he arrived home with the urn.

Would Neil take it away? Would he smash it right in front of him? He dreaded what the near future held.

��So…” He awkwardly began. “Nice to uh…see you again. Not what I ever imagined but…I guess death is inevitable, and we can’t predict when it will come and get us.” Billy sighed. “I hate that you’re gone. We’re not even on the same planet anymore. At least when you were alive, the fact that we lived on the same earth gave me hope. Now…now that’s just gone. What’m I supposed to do?”

He could hear a car approaching behind and glared over when it slowed down beside him.

“You okay?” 

Harrington? Why would he fucking ask that? He doesn’t care.

“I never see you on foot. Did your car break down somewhere—“

“No. I’m good. I don’t need anything.”

“What’re you carrying?” Steve asked, slowly driving beside him.

“Why’re you in my business, Harrington? We’re not even friends.”

“I’m asking because…I didn’t wanna assume but—i-it looks similar to my nana’s urn.”

Billy stopped walking, his head hanging down. “It’s my mom.” He replied despondently.

“Your mom? Jesus, I’m so sorry, man. D’you wanna talk or—“

“I told you, I’m fine.” Billy chuckled it off. “I haven’t seen her since I was 9. I don’t even care that much that she’s gone.”

Steve didn’t buy that for a second. He noticed the way Billy hung his head down and clutched the urn so close to his body like a scared child holding a teddy bear.

“Billy, your house is 20 minutes from here by foot, and mine is on the way. Why don’t you just let me drive you—“

“I’m not in a rush to go home, Harrington. Just leave me alone.” He continued walking, speeding up slightly.

“Fine.” Steve sped off.

Billy wasn’t sure why, but he felt a tinge of guilt for pushing Steve away, until he realized Steve was parking up ahead and getting out of his car. 

He froze when Steve began to run toward him. 

“If you’re gonna walk, I’ll just walk with you.”

“Why?”

“Because your mom died, man. And the fact that you didn’t try to punch me earlier says a lot.”

“I just didn’t wanna drop my mom’s urn, or I would’ve punched you.”

Steve smirked, nodding in understanding. “Fair enough. I guess I’m being annoying.”

“A little.” Billy mumbled.

“Only a little?”

“Do you want me to say that you’re getting on my fucking nerves instead?”

“Nah. A little annoying is fine.”

They continued to walk together in silence, when Billy stopped. 

“I don’t wanna go home.” 

“How come? Don’t you wanna safely store your mom’s—“

“It’s not safe there. Even in death, mom’s not safe under Neil’s roof. He’ll probably break it in front of me then make me sweep up her ashes.” His lip began to tremble at the thought.

“Hey, man, we’re not gonna let that happen, okay? My car’s right here.” He pointed. “We can go to my house. My parents never come upstairs and there’s a nice place we can set her urn. Nobody’ll mess with it and you can come see her whenever you want.”

“Why are you doing this for me?” Billy questioned.

“I already told you. Your mom died. I’m not gonna kick a man while he’s down. That’s your thing.”

Billy chuckled, causing Steve to smile. 

“So whaddya say? Wanna come back to casa Harrington and give your mom a safe place?”

Billy nodded. “Under one condition.”

“Hm?”

“Never call your house ‘casa Harrington’ again.”

Steve laughed. “Alright, alright. Deal.”

— 

Steve drove Billy to his house and showed him to a marble console table at the end of the hallway.

There wasn’t anything on it, except for an old copy of Gone With The Wind.

“This was her favorite book.” Billy mentioned, setting the urn down beside the book.

He stood back and reached into his pocket for a small seashell to place next to her urn. 

“Hm…” Steve hummed pensively.

“What?”

“No, it’s just…I dunno, her urn’s like…lopsided. I don’t want it to fall over.

Billy stood back, noticing the way her urn didn’t rest flat on the surface like it was supposed to.

“Maybe there’s something under it.” Steve suggested.

Billy lifted the urn. There was nothing on the table, so he felt the bottom of the urn, noticing a strange bump beneath the felt. 

He carefully peeled away at the felt, startled when a square fell to the floor by his feet.

He set his mother’s urn down and focused his attention on the square. 

“Is that a…floppy disk?” Steve asked as Billy picked the black square up off the floor.

“Yeah. D’you have a computer?”

“I do but uh—are you sure we should like…actually open that?”

Billy narrowed his eyes. “Why the hell not? It could be a special message from my mom.”

“Because! What if it, I dunno, self destructs or something.”

“My mom wasn’t a fucking spy, shit-for-brains. Show me where your computer is.” Billy demanded.

“Fine.”

Steve led Billy to his computer and Billy inserted the floppy disk into the drive. 

The floppy only contained two files. A photo, and an audio file.

Billy opened the photo first, frowning deeply. 

“Cute kid. That you?”

“Yeah, it’s…me and my mom at the beach.”

“Aw, you look so happy. Look at that big bright smile. And your mom, she was…she was super pretty, man. You look just like her.”

“You callin’ me pretty?” He glanced over at Steve.

Steve gulped, his eyes shifting away. “Well I mean you called me pretty before! So what’s it matter?”

Billy answered with a shrug, returning his attention to the computer. 

“You got headphones?”

“Yeah, check the drawer right there.”

Billy pulled the drawer handle and peered inside. He quickly grabbed the headphones, disregarding the condoms in the drawer beside it.

He plugged the headphones in and listened to the audio file.

“Hello, Billy. If you’re listening to this, it means I’ve passed on, which is…so unfortunate, but I learned I have cancer, and the more I struggle, the more I become aware of how little time I have left. It pains me everyday, Billy. I wish we had more time together. I’m sure you grew up to become a fine young man.”

There was a pause in the audio. Billy could hear soft sniffles.

“And I want you to continue to grow. But I’ve learned some disturbing news, about your father…have you ever wondered why we had so many nice things, even on your father’s salary? I wasn’t working, and yet I was always able to keep the finest foods on the table, and buy you the most expensive clothing. You were probably too young to think anything of it. Before you were born, your father was an active duty soldier. Now, he’s a resident spy. He has been engaging in espionage for several years and feeding classified data to Russians. You have moved very close to a secret Russian military base. I’m not sure where in Hawkins the military base is located, but this is all the information I’ve gathered over the years. I need you to promise me. Promise me. You will get away from your father before he gets you killed. I love you so much, sweetie. Take care and be safe. And…I am so sorry. I hope you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me.”

When the audio message ended, Billy removed the headphones and stared at the screen, wide-eyed.

“Billy? Everything okay?”

He slowly turned to Steve, still in disbelief. “Hey, Harrington. Can I trust you?”

“Y—what?”

“Can I trust you?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah. You can trust me.”

“My mom said my dad’s a spy. He’s been spying for the Russian military and that’s why we moved here. She thinks he’s gonna get me killed.”

“Holy shit…” Steve quietly whispered. “We need to talk to Hop.”

“What? No!” Billy shouted. “You said I could trust you!”

“Listen!” Steve exclaimed. “Hop’s been taking care of this kid, her name’s El, short for Eleven. She used to live in the Hawkins National Lab. She—she’s got powers and she was used as like a-a radio to spy on the Russian military.”

“Nah.” Billy laughed. “No that’s bullshit—“

“It’s not. I swear. You trust me, right? Then come with me.”

Billy shrugged. “I dunno about this.”

“Look This town’s got a lot of secrets. Really…weird secrets. I think it’s time you find out everything we know.”

“We? We who?”

Steve shrugged. “Sinclair, Henderson, Wheeler…Max.”

“Max?! That little shit knows things?!”

“Yes! And I tried to tell you that night we fought but you didn’t wanna hear me out.”

“It wasn’t my fault!” Billy argued.

“I know! I know! Now we…we’ve gotta figure this shit out.” Steve grabbed a walkie talkie. “We’ve got a code red. Everybody meet at the quarry ASAP.”

“Copy that!” Dustin responded.

Steve returned his attention to Billy. “Let’s go. It’s time for you to learn the truth.”

[stabbyfoxandrew]

happy wednesday! you showing up on my dash is a blessing every time I am kissing you on the mouth you incredibly talented person... with that off my chest

arson 🥺👉👈

WIP Wednesday (12/13) | Arsonist Neil / Firefighter Andrew AU (Part 74)

Andrew yawns again and considers getting up to go to bed. But he’s comfortable where he is. And warm. And cozy. He decides to stay put. After a couple minutes of waiting, Andrew’s eyes fall shut and his breathing starts to slow. Then his phone vibrates where it’s lying on his chest and he jolts awake. Fuck. 

10 I don’t know. I was just curious. What are you doing? Andrew Currently? Falling asleep. 10 Am I that boring? Andrew Yes. But also, I’m fucking exhausted. Perhaps you should set fires earlier in the day, so I don’t have to miss sleep. 10 You want me to set fires in broad daylight? Andrew It would be a nice change of pace. 10 No, it’s easier to fade into the background at night. Besides, the fire is prettier when it’s dark.

Andrew supposes he’s got a point. For a lunatic, anyhow. 

After calling the arsonist an idiot and getting another sad face emoji in response, the two talk until Andrew's eyes refuse to stay open. That’s when he drifts off and dreams of a fire at the beach. It’s huge and 10 is there, of course. And he’s got that sad look on his face again. Andrew subtlety waves and when he blinks, 10 is gone. 

Just like the real thing.

<- previous | first | next-> ps: check the reblogs for art by @tisaqslur! <3

[empty-dream]

Just played To The Moon Beach Episode

Just kidding it's been almost one month since I played and I'm NOT over it.

Chronologically taking place sometime after the end of Impostor Factory, specifically after the Bestest Dancers comic.

Happy note first, I LOVE the surfing minigame. I played with all 4 characters just so I could get all the winner banners lmao.

Also the conversations, when funny, are funny as fuck, classic Freedbird Games.

My favorites were the night pool scene and the basement scene. I LOST MY SHIT lmaooo.

The beach memories with messages from players is so cool and heartwarming. Is there any way I can put my message there too? I'd probably write an essay inside tho.

Kan (and I assume his wife and son?) makes an appearance is so cute.

On the other hand, it is indeed the most depressing beach episode.

Or rather, the first half was wacky as shit with just a sliver of hints, and then BOOM DEPRESSION.

The aforementioned night pool scene? When I picked "says nothing" I laughed my ass off. Then I restarted the game at that point and picked "show approval" thinking that it would lead to another hilarious exchange. It slapped me with realistic truth and sad what-ifs instead.

I knew it'd be sad like there are hints but DAMN I DIDN'T EXPECT FREEBIRD GAMES TO ACTUALLY GO DOWN THIS ROUTE I REALLY THOUGHT THEY WOULDN'T, I JUST DIDNT EXPECT IT WOULD COME LIKE RIGHT NOW 😭

Kan Gao made To the Moon when he was mulling over mortality since his grandpa had life-threatening illness, and since then it has always been about grief and questions revolving death and life.

And I personally feel like the Beach Episode is the peak of everything the series is about: Grief, regret, what-if, the parameter of "a great life."

After following the series for around a decade, it just hits so hard I still don't even know what to say.

SPOILER BELOW

ROSAWATTS CANON BUT AT WHAT COST

"I wanted to build you a garden." "You didn't give me enough time to prepare." WHAT THE FUCK BRO YOU CANT JUST DO THIS TO ME TT O TT

You know, when you think about it, what happened to Neil and Eva is exactly the opposite of Quincy and Lynri.

The only reason why Neil never confesses to Eva, despite loving her since teenager, was because he knew the pain of losing a loved one like how his father Quincy lost his mother Lynri, and Neil didn't want that to happen to Eva.

And it was all for nothing. Eva still ends up doing exactly what Neil fears, and WORSE.

Not only she suffers watching him die and losing him in the end, she keeps reliving all their days together. Since the very first game in fact. It's the only explanation why there was pain signal even in real life back in the first game and why the Minisode had Eva in her room.

It begs the question, would it have been better if he admitted his condition and feelings for Eva sooner? If instead of fearing what would happen in the end, Neil opened up earlier, like how Lynri did to Quincy? If Neil and Eva had more time, if Eva had more time to prepare, if they had more time to be together in the way that they've always wanted, if they had more time to make peace with the knowledge of what would come together, would it be any better?

I personally don't know the answer to that. At first glance, I thought the answer would be yes. But somewhere in my heart, I knew it'd still hurt anyway. It'd be just a different kind of pain. And I don't know if it's fundamentally right to compare those pains.

When they say grief is a difficult topic, they are not kidding.

[fizzigigsimmer]

My fave ballet tube channel out here feeding me plot bunnies for Harringrove Ballet School Au. Just imagine, Billy arrives on campus. Spitting mad cause his dad made him take the bus. Cheapskate wouldn’t even spring for a plane ticket when it’s Billy’s financial aide filling his pockets. He decided halfway there he’s not going to stay. He’s going to hop on the first bus back to Cali as soon as he can raise the money and that’s what he tells Madame Harrington. She may have bought Neil but she can’t buy him. Nobody can force him to stay here - which is true. He’s hoping she won’t want to deal with a runaway and a bad attitude, that she’ll just revoke the scholarship and end this farce for him. Neil will beat his ass black and blue but what else is new. At lease he’ll still have home and the beach.

Madame Harrington doesn’t look happy but she doesn’t get angry either. She makes Billy promise to sleep on it. Sit in on a class, have a real think about what he’s about to throw away. Billy’s not stupid, he knows she’s hoping he’ll see other kids dancing and make some friends and suddenly want to change his mind. It’s not going down like that. And it doesn’t. The class she takes him to is tier one, the advanced class. It’s mostly juniors and seniors but Billy spots a few younger kids and a couple of absolute shrimps who look like they haven’t left the seventh grade. They’re good though is the thing, doesn’t take more than a few steps to see why they’re in here dancing with the big kids. A redhead catches him watching in the doorway and gives him the stink eye.

And then whatever combination they’re doing ends and everyone is clapping, and the instructor calls out that it’s time for their soloist. “Be the swan, Steven. No spaghetti arms!”

The energy in the room just changes, the chatter lifting in anticipation as the students drift back to the edge of the room as a solitary figure steps forward. He’s got good shape. Strong legs - so long - and lean arms. Those fucking tights love him - holy shit. Billy can be forgiven for missing the first few steps he takes while he blinks away the after image that bulge has burned into his fucking retinas. But when he’s capable of seeing beyond it again, he sees this kid - this Steven - floating across the floor in some of the prettiest lines he’s ever seen. He thinks the number from Swan Lake. Thinks Steve-o is gorgeous when he’s not fucking it up, playing to the crowd and losing focus. It’s only a wobble here or there, just minor imperfections.

It annoys the shit out of Billy.

“Who’s the diva?” he asks Madame H. under the sudden swell of clapping and cheering as the boy’s solo comes to an end.

She smiles, a twinkle entering her eye.

“That would be Steve. My son.”

Her son? Wait! That’s Steve Steve? The kid he used to penpal and trade basketball cards with. That’s Steve Harrington?

“Oh yeah?” Billy sneers, hoping to hide how dry his mouth has gone. Challenges with an arched brow, “Teachers son thinks he’s hot shit huh?”

But Madame H. seems unperturbed. She doesn’t tell him off about his language or take offense for her kid’s sake, just keeps smiling at Billy with that little glint in her eye that’s too fond for comfort.

“He’s been best in his age group since he was eight. Makes it hard to keep him challenged. I was hoping that would change with you here now, but if you’re set on leaving I guess I’ll have to come up with something else.”

It’s so stupid. Some reverse psychology bullshit, but damn it it’s working because Billy isn’t as keen on leaving as he was when they walked in.

“You sure that’s what you want?” He asks, barely waiting for the perplexed look to form on her face as he shrugs off his duffel bag. He strides into the room like he owns it, feels the heads turn towards him as his sneakers thud hollowly on the hard floor. The chatter dies as he calls out, “you call that a dance?”

His eyes lock with the boy in the center of the room.

Billy will show him a dance. He’ll show them all.

[morganwrites12672]

'Opposties'

Billy hargrove x FEM!reader

Warnings/tags; bullying, soft!billy, Eddie Munson x reader (platonic), Jason's an asshole, billy hargrive x reader (romantic), smoking, Neil, mentions of abuse, blood, minor violence

You speed into school in your 1982 Dodge Coronet. A nice navy blue that complemented the leather seats.

You notice a muscle car next to you. It's a nice shade of blue. You didn't realize anyone else at Hawkins high was into that type of car.

You get out and lean on your car as you light a cigarette. This place was fucking intolerable unless you were at least a little high.

You notice there is a guy with sandy blonde hair doing the same. You walk around the car before heading to smoke by the building.

It has a Cali plate.

"Hey, Beautiful," the guy says, leaning next to your locker. You don't have to look at him to see his stupid smirk.

All you heard was other girls trying to get in his pants. But then again, most of the girls here were total assholes. Mainly carol.

"Hey, imbecile," you reply as you slam your locker shut. You did not have time to flirt, you had class.

"Wow, nice manners," he says, "I'm Billy, Billy hargrove. I didn't catch you name?"

"I didn't throw it," you say as you walk off. You are in search of your best friend, 'The freak'. Having been friends since freshman year, and branded as the town satanists, he usually waited at your locker .

You frown as you go to the parking lot and notice his van pulling up. He's always late, unless you have something to do with itm

He smirks at you and waves, "I'm not late am, I?"

You playfully shove him, "You are going to graduate this year, 86 baby. Remember?" Eddie was going to graduate, you were going to make sure of it.

He laughs at the memory. He had always said he was going to graduate in whatever year it was. This year's it was going to happen. But you couldn't give him to much trouble, you were held back in seventh grade and your last senior year.

"Hey, 86 Baby," he promises. He still has that stupid smile. His smile was addicting, but everybody likes seeing their dorky best friend happy.

"Eddie you need to graduate, " you remind him.

"Does you think its, like weird for us to hang out?" He questions. Of course he was avoiding the question.

You smirk, "If you're not trying to get in my pants it's fine," you reply as he laughs.

"No, I'm taking you to Cali, and you are going to see the beach. And we are doing it in '86 when you graduate," you scold'

"You are always mean to me," he remarks as you walk towards the school.

"How late should we be?" You question unaware billy is spying. The teachers would get worried if you both showed up to early (before third period).

Billy knows you are both dating (you're not).

He thinks his theory is confirmed when you sneak off in the woods together.

**

"Hey freaks," Jason yells as you and Eddie converse in front of your locker. God, you couldn't wait until you could punch his stupid face without getting expelled.

"Hey assholes," you reply as you and Eddie give him the tongue and horns. Jason was just a typical high school bully. Every school had one. Or several.

"Freak 1 and his girlfriend, freak 2," another one of the boys scoff. It would be better if they could come up with insults better then a third grader.

"Were did you get your insults? Bullying 101, they teach it now?" you tease.

This hit a nerve he aims a punch for your face. You move and he slams his fist into your locker.

He grabs his fist, groaning in pain. You were going to regret that.

You kick one below the belt and grab Eddie's hand to make a run for it.

Getting in class, you both make it just barely.

After class Eddie ditches for a deal, but you have a pop quiz, every friday. God, you hated pop quizes.

"Let me take you out, unless you dating munson," billy says.

"Look. I will let you take me out. But if you try to get in my pants, it will be the last thing you ever do," you let him think about your terms.

"I will pick you up at 7,"

"I live across from you," you yell as you run to World History class. You might be a little excited.

7pm comes and you are sitting on your porch with a cigarette.

He pulls his car into your driveway, and walks over.

"You're parents know you smoke," he mostly teases.

"Moms gone mental, Dad's left a while ago," you state.

You swear you could see a flicker of sympathy as you slide into the passenger seat and stomping out your cigarette.

"Where you taking me?" You ask.

You doubted anywhere public. This was a dars to get in Munson's best friends pants.

You dressed similar and this caused issues. Mainly because no one I'm indiana accepted someone who was different.

You only joined hellfire in your spare time, most of the time you just join as a side character. You were to busy with keeping up with grades to play every week.

"The diner a little past the high school," he says as he lights his own cigarette.

"Wow so public," you scoff. That was definitely shocking.

"Why, not?" He asks.

"Face it, you're a jock I'm a freak," you explain.

"Well I think you have a great personality," he laughs.

"This might not be so bad," you muse.

And that was the story of how you started dating Billy Hargrove.

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

You were shocked when he shows up at your door. Busted lip and bruised. Blood dripping from his nose.

You usher him in and to your room, careful not to wake your sleeping mother. Not like she would wake up either way.

"What the hell," you exclaim setting him on your bed and getting the first aid kit.

You start cleaning up the blood. It looked bad, maybe a few punches.

"My dad," is the only reply he chokes out.

"Every day?" You ask. In complete disbelief when he nods his head.

"Not anymore, my mom won't care," you say not allowing him to protest and when he does, "That or I go there right now and give Neil a piece of my mind,"

Billy sighs before saying yes. He couldn't escape Neil for forever, but tonight would have to do.

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

Requests are open. My pinned post has request details and everybody I write for

Please reblog if you enjoyed, it helps writers a lot

[sarahsmi13s]

Lieutenant Rogers - part 8

Safe Places

pairings: romantic!neil ‘omaha’ vikander x rogers!reader, platonic!dagger squad x rogers!reader, plantonic!sam wilson x rogers!reader, platonic!bucky barnes x rogers!reader

characters: y/n rogers, neil vikander, bob floyd, dagger squad, sam wilson, john walker (mentioned), lemar hoskins (mentioned), karli morgenthau (mentioned), nico (mentioned)

word count: ~8.7k

chapter warnings: language, murder, grief, isolation, fighting, talk of blood, crying, internalizing feelings, vomiting (no one pukes but there are mentions of it), slightly obsessive behaviors, omaha is a good boyfriend, star really needs a hug, please let me know if I missed any

a/n: hi... hello... i just want to thank you all for your immense patience with me. i'm so so sorry it's almost been a year sense the last update. i hope this chapter was worth the wait 💙

sources: Top Gun: Maverick (2022) , The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (2021)

chapter summary: in the wake of the publicized murder of a flag smasher, star has to wrestle with herself as she comes to terms with everything that has happened and anticipate what will happen in the fall out -- all the while omaha tries not to let his feelings overshadow hers

lieutenant rogers universe previous part || next part

You stared at your phone, the video stopped on a frame of the shield covered in blood. Your father’s shield, covered in blood. Covered in the blood of someone who was pleading for their life. It didn’t matter to you that they were a Flag Smasher. They were a fucking person.

Ice ran through your veins, a deathly chill capable of putting out the bonfire in front of you.

The one symbol of hope, the one piece of your father that you thought would keep a flame of his comfort burning in the world, was now smothered to nothing but bloodied ashes. His memory, his legacy, was now tainted. 

Swallowing the bitter taste of alcohol rising back up in your throat, you quietly excused yourself from the group.

You knew Omaha was watching you the whole time you trekked up the beach, your phone fighting for its life in your hand. He was going to give you your space, give you a moment to let yourself be angry and let it out before trying to console you. You needed a minute to be angry alone, then you both could be angry together.

He kept his eyes on you the whole time though, even as your face was illuminated by your phone screen as you called Sam.

You tried to take deep, calming breaths as you waited for Sam to pick up. 

It was morning time in Latvia, so you knew he would be awake. And if he wasn’t, you’d happily be his wake-up call.

Your thumb tapped on your fingers, index finger to pinky and back again, while your exhales fell out of trembling lips. You couldn’t puke. You weren’t going to puke. This was not the time to throw up. 

Saliva built up in your mouth, and your lips began to feel sticky – a tell-tale sign that you were probably going to vomit. Your stomach churned as you felt the buzzing heat of your nerves roll over your skin. 

You hated puking; you didn’t do it often. It was hard for you to get sick, and the serum also helped you to keep from puking after being in your plane. So, you being over the toilet or a trash can expelling the contents of your stomach wasn’t an event you experienced regularly. When it did happen, you were absolutely miserable.

You spit the built-up saliva out into the sand, your hand resting over your stomach as you hummed to try and ward away the nausea. 

Pick up the damn phone, Wilson, you thought as you closed your eyes and exhaled, head tilting up toward the navy blue sky.

Finally, just as you were about to hang up and try again, he answered, his tone already pleading and desperate.

“I know-” 

“What. The. Fuck did he do?” 

Sam’s words went unheard by you as you cut him off, hissing harshly into the receiver.

Anger and frustration rose up in place of the bile and alcohol that had been in your throat moments ago. Your words pushed the nausea out of the way.

Was your anger misplaced? You didn’t think so.

He promised you that he would keep John in line. Keep your father's legacy intact despite the catastrophe tasked with carrying it on. Sam gave you his word that he wouldn’t let Walker ruin it. 

And now, for John to go and do this? With Sam doing nothing to stop him?

As far as you were concerned, your anger towards him was justified.

“Y/N-”

“No, Sam! Don’t ‘Y/N’ me! What the hell happened?”

You weren’t about to let Sam try to calm you down. That wasn’t his place. Not after he failed to do the one thing he said he would.

Sam sighed, and the weight of it dampened the ringing in your ears slightly, a realization hitting you.

Sam was there. He watched it and everything that led up to it. He was just as angry about this situation as you were, not to mention the guilt and regret that probably weighed on his shoulders now, too.

Had your emotions jumped the gun? Did you lash out at Sam too quickly?

Despite that revelation there were things you couldn’t let go, justifications you were too stubborn to let go of. Stuck on his broken promise.

“Lemar Hoskins is dead. Karli killed him during a fight…”

Your heart sank.

You met Lemar once. It was before you left for the mission and only for a few minutes, but he seemed like such a sweet guy. He was there to support John and have his back; he was being a good friend.

And look where that got him…

You crossed your arm over your chest, your free hand gripping your bicep as your jaw clenched. “That’s-that’s unfortunate… but that doesn’t justify murder.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“He didn’t even kill Karli. Flag Smasher or not, that man was innocent.” You dug your foot into the sand, “He didn’t deserve to die.”

The ringing in your ears came back as the quiet slowly took over the call, Sam’s end unnervingly bare of words. Your jaw ticked in the silence, anger flaring up in your stomach. 

You finally broke it, letting yourself ask:

“Why didn’t you stop him? How could you allow this to happen?”

“Oh no, no, no, no. You’re not about to blame me for this,” Sam responded, his tone defensive and sharp.

Your free hand flew out to the side, your own defensiveness coming to light.

“You promised me, Sam! You gave me your word!”

In the midst of your shouting and arm flailing, you didn’t think about the possibility of there being people nearby. Nor did it occur to you that the scene you were making might make them uncomfortable – but, honestly, you didn’t really care.

“Don’t you think I would have stopped him if I could’ve? You really think that I just stood there and let him take an innocent life?”

The wild arm fell limp and slapped against your thigh, a huff escaping your lips. “Sam–”

“No, Y/N, it’s my turn to talk. While I understand your anger towards me, hell I’m angry towards me, but just give me a chance to explain. Please.”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, your knee bouncing as you looked at the sand, “Okay… tell me what happened.” Your voice was a little softer, not as brassy or harsh, but still firm.

Sam let out a breath, taking a moment to collect the right words.

“After the fight, we all just scattered. Bucky and I got separated from John, and… by the time we got there, we were too late.”

You stayed quiet, your tongue swiping over your teeth as you let Sam continue.

“He ran off after he realized what he had done… Bucky and I went after him, tracked him down to an abandoned train station. When we got there, we confronted him and tried to get the shield back civilly, but John’s pride got in the way… it got ugly, but we got the shield back. It’s with me right now.”

You nodded, your thumb popping your fingers at your side as you drew in a breath. 

“What about Walker?” You need to change the focus, your tongue redirecting itself to form the question rather than the comment it really wanted to say.

“What do you mean?” Sam was clearly confused by the shift, but he welcomed it internally.

“Where is John, Sam?”

“They- His handlers, I guess is what they are, took him back to the States. Probably will have a hearing in a few days…” He trailed off, now wondering why you wanted to know Walker’s whereabouts. “What are you planning, Star?”

“Don’t worry about it, Wilson,” you snapped.

“Y/N–”

“You can’t stop me, Sam. Don’t try–”

“Walker took the serum, Y/N.” Your brow furrowed for a second as you processed the words Sam had interrupted you with, and the second you did – it felt like your organs turned to lead.

John Walker was a Super Soldier now? That’s just… fucking great and definitely not a huge problem for you.

You groaned a little and rubbed your forehead after you recovered from the slight shock, “I’m still going to confront him. I can’t sit in fucking silence about this. Not now…”

“And I don't expect you to. But you needed to know what you were walking into.”

You swallow and nod, “Well, thank you for that. I’ll umm.. I’ll keep that in mind.” After another beat of silence, Sam sighed a little, “Look, Y/N, we–”

You shook your head, “Later, Sam, this… this is not a conversation I want to have over the phone with just you. Bucky needs to be in on this, too.”

“Right, right, of course.” 

You nodded and shook out your hand, “Bye, Sam.”

“Talk later, kid.”

After hanging up, you rubbed your face before shoving your phone in your pocket and walking toward the shore.

You needed a second to breathe. You just got back from a high-stress mission, and now Walker has desecrated the only thing left of your father in this world that people put meaning to. And you knew that by tomorrow morning, newspapers, magazines, and the news reporters would be on your ass trying to get a statement.

Were you going to respond? Hell no. Why? Because you didn’t need your words twisted and thrown out into the world for people to use for their own agenda.

But you would deal with that in the morning. Right now, you just need to think and take a breath.

A chilled, salty breeze cooled your heated skin and brought notice to the hot tears of frustration on your cheeks.

“Shit,” you mumbled as you wiped them from your face. “Get it together, Rogers..”

“Honey,” Neil said gently to announce his presence before he touched your shoulders. 

You sucked in a breath, “‘m fine, baby…” He shook his head and turned you to face him, “No, Star-light, you’re not.”

More tears sprung to your eyes, and you looked down in an attempt to fight them off. “No, Neil, I’m f-”

He tilted your chin up, “Stop lying to yourself. You’re not okay, you’re pissed. You have every right to be upset.” His thumb reached up to swipe a tear away, “Please don’t hold it in…”

Your lip quivered, and you inhaled sharply, shaking your head, “I have to be strong. I can’t fucking cry just because I’m angry.” You pulled back a little and harshly wiped your eyes, not missing the look on your boyfriend’s face. 

You knew he was just looking out for you and you knew he was right. But you had a mission and you needed to focus. You could break down later – breaking down would cause you to shut down, and you didn’t have time to shut down.

Omaha sighed and helped wipe away the tears that escaped, “Sweetheart, you shouldn’t hold this in – it’s okay to cry…” He held your shoulders and looked into your eyes, “Scream, yell, cry, punch something-”

“Neil, I appreciate this, all of it. I do. But you just don’t understand what’s going on in my brain and in my heart right now.”

“Then help me understand. I want to be there for you.”

You sighed sadly, “I wish I could explain it, but I can’t. And you are here for me, Neil. Because you’re who I’m gonna fall on when the weight of this crashes down on me, you are going to be my rock.” You cupped his face in your hands, “You are my rock. I just… I need to face this first.”

He nodded and kissed your palm before kissing your fingertips as he moved one of your hands to his chest. “I love you, Star-light.” You smiled softly at him, “I love you too, Oma.” 

Omaha kissed your forehead before wrapping his arms around you, “You wanna head home?” You sniffled and nodded against his neck, “Please, if I stay, I’m afraid I’ll ruin the mood…” He nodded and rubbed your back, “C’mon Doll, let’s go home. I’ll send someone a text and let them know what’s goin’ on.”

You nodded and pulled back from the hug but stayed tucked under his arm as you both walked to Neil’s Jeep.

The ride home was nearly silent. The only sound in the Jeep was the radio, which had been turned down as low as it could go while still being audible.

Your left hand was threaded with his right one, your thumb pressing down on his knuckle like a button. The tip of his thumb moved up and down, letting itself be manipulated. Neil always made sure to keep his hand loose and moveable when you were tense or anxious. He knew how little control you felt you had in this situation, how you felt like the entire universe was crashing down on you, and you had nothing to get the pieces back in their rightful place.

So he could give you this. He could let you squeeze and press and twist and pull, trace whatever lines or patterns you needed to to ease your nerves. To let you feel in control of something.

Omaha knew better than to ask you questions. Your conversation with Sam was a private thing and something that you would talk to him about when you were ready. He didn’t need to push you for information or to talk about your feelings right now, and he trusted that if it was something you thought he needed to know, you would tell him.

That trust didn’t stop him from worrying, though.

He could handle your anxious silence. He understood it. But that doesn’t mean he liked it. 

He knew that your mind wasn’t putting together coherent thoughts, each one overlapping the next until it was just a cacophony of things that overwhelmed you to the core. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the tears in your lash line, welling up and making your eyes glossy. They beaded up on your eyelashes like dew on blades of grass in the morning. They gorgeously reflected any light that they could catch – the moonlight, streetlights, headlights of the few cars that passed you. But you didn’t let them roll over, catching them on the back of your finger before they had the chance.

Your chest stuttered softly with your shaky inhales, something he would have never noticed if he hadn’t learned all of your habits over the course of your five-year relationship. You tried to keep your breathing soft and controlled, quiet enough so you didn’t worry Neil. 

He’d also catch you attempting to pick at your lips, squeezing your hand every once in a while to divert your attention and let you know that he saw you. Usually, you’d give him an absent-minded squeeze back, and your hand would move to your chest, your thumb rubbing against the words scribbled across your collarbone and your heart thumping against it in time with the pulse he could feel against his own wrist.

He almost didn’t want to go home. He could sit in silence in the car, drive around for hours in this silence. In this silence, you were right next to him, holding his hand. This silence wasn’t despair; it wasn’t as heartbreaking as the silence at home.

At home… at home, you had more room to be distant. You had space to be alone, away from him. He understood that you needed space, but he hated it when you would isolate yourself in your own home. You’d tuck yourself into the corner of the couch and just try to figure it out by yourself. You’d completely detach yourself and go into focus mode, locking on to figuring out how to fix this situation – one that couldn’t really be fixed.

When he finally decided to pull into the house, you didn't do what he expected. Omaha expected you to yank your hand from his and bolt into the house to find a corner to hide in.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you swallow, sniffling slightly as you turn from the window to face Neil. He squeezed your hand, letting you know he was still there and he wasn’t going anywhere without you.

“I’m going to DC…”

You didn’t look up at him as you spoke, afraid you’d break if you looked into his eyes. His kindness and understanding swam in them, conveying his feelings so his words never had to. And they were your safe place.

His eyes were kaleidoscopes of colors. The light manipulated them beautifully, capturing each shade in its individuality and in their unity. They were gorgeous. They were home.

They could be the soft dirt, warm, comforting, and inviting – ready for something to hold. Or they were the grass or the trees, fields and forests of serenity and calmness – a place you could find peace. Or they were the sky or the ocean, two of the greatest expanses on earth – a place you felt in control and a place that showed you just how delicate you could be, a place you could relax and let go.

They were all of those things…

They were Neil.

You squeezed his hand, grounding yourself with the chill of his skin against the heat of yours. You took a deep breath, tracing the veins on the back of his hands to focus.

“You-you don’t have to come with me. This is last minute, and we just got home, but–”

“Star-light, I’m going with you. Whether it’s to be your support, your back up, or your alibi – I’m going.”

He knew that you weren’t asking his permission to go to DC, nor were you really asking him to go with you. But he was going. He wasn’t letting you go all the way across the country alone. He’d stay at the hotel or in the Airbnb if you wanted, but he was going to be within reach of you – that was non-negotiable. 

“I… This isn’t going to be some fun trip. I think you know why I’m going… So I want you to think about this.”

Neil didn’t need to know and he wasn’t going to ask questions, either. You would tell him why, probably were about to, before he interrupted you. And he could only assume it had to do with that video and your phone call with Sam. 

“I don’t need to. When it comes to you, to this, I’m going to be by your side. You want to face John, let him know that you know what he’s done and that he fucked up. I’m just gonna be there so you don’t get yourself hurt or in trouble.”

He squeezed your hand again, “I’m your partner, your wingman. I am here for you, whenever you need me.”

He watched your face carefully as he spoke, catching the quirk of the corners of your mouth before you sobered up and nodded.

“I’ll um… I’ll get the tickets after we get inside. They’ll be shitty, but they’re last minute…”

“As long as they’re next to each other, I don’t care.” 

And that was true. He didn’t care where you sat in the plane – just that you sat together. He wanted – no, he needed to be next to you. Being there for you is his priority right now.

You swallowed and nodded once more, caging his hand between yours.

“I will do my best.” 

He hated how quiet your voice was. It wasn’t a normal quiet. It was meek and powerless. You sound defeated and scared. 

You were none of those things. And seeing you this way broke his heart.

His free hand moved to the back of your head, pulling you toward him gently as he leaned in. He pressed his lips to your forehead, eyes closing as he tried to pour every ounce of love and comfort he could muster into it.

And it seemed to transfer.

Your shoulders relaxed as he felt your shaky exhale brush the skin of his neck.

His eyes stayed closed as he spoke against your skin, “I love you, Star-light.” 

You nodded against his lips, feeling comfort in your chest at the vibration of his low voice against your forehead. His voice was smooth with a slight rasp, similar to warm dark chocolate with a shot of whiskey mixed in – it was just… peaceful.

It took over the other voices that were shouting in your head. All it took was the low whisper of those four words to dampen the screaming. Those voices were still there, but Neil’s made its presence known, and that was enough to get them to back off a little.

“I love you too, Oma. So so much…”

Your voice was still soft, but there was a strength that returned to it. It sounded fuller, not as hollow as it had before.

Omaha wasn’t sure how long that would last, but he would take the win.

He pulled back after pressing another kiss to your forehead, and his hand moved to the side of your neck, his thumb caressing your jaw. “Let’s go in. We need some sleep so we can get up and pack.” 

You nodded, inhaling deeply to ground yourself before exiting the safety of the Jeep.

Neil smiled softly at you, hoping to get you to smile back. And you did… But he knew that you’d done it out of reflex rather than because you felt like smiling.

You turned your head and kissed the palm of his hand, squeezing the one you were holding before you pulled away completely and got out of the Jeep. 

He sighed as your door shut, and he unbuckled himself, getting out to meet you at the front door.

After getting inside, you silently moved around the house. 

Both of you had already rinsed your legs and feet of sand and emptied your shoes before leaving, so you didn’t have to worry about that at all. So, you just quietly went to the kitchen and got your laptop before you walked towards your bedroom.

“Hey,” Neil said, gently catching your arm as you walked past him. “I’m gonna take a shower before I go to bed. Do you want-”

“I’ll shower after you. I want to make sure I get these tickets ordered, and that I can snag a decent flight time. I’m hoping there’s still some left for this morning.” Your voice was breathless, almost as if you had been holding your breath as you moved through the house. The words sounded rushed and rehearsed like you had been waiting for him to ask. Your mind was already set on showering separately.

All Omaha could do was nod. He could try to convince you to join him, tell you he’d wait for you to order the tickets – but your mind was made up. 

“Alright, I’ll be quick.” 

“You don’t have to. Take as long as you need.”

Something in your voice and the way your eyes looked down at where his hand gripped your bicep made his stomach feel heavy. 

You were reverting again. Going back to that corner he thought he had pulled you away from. Isolating yourself again when he was right there. 

He was right there. 

All you had to do was just let him sit with you. Or take his hand and let him pull you up. 

You would talk to him when you were ready. He knew that. But he didn’t like that you were trying to face this all on your own because you felt like you were alone. You weren’t. 

He was right there.

But he nodded, knowing if he pushed, you would back away or lash out like a scared and wounded animal. The opposite of what he wanted. “Alright…”

You gave him another closed-mouth smile and kissed his shoulder before settling in the bedroom.

He rubbed his face, a frustrated sigh left his lips before he shook his head to himself and went to the laundry room to toss two towels into the dryer before grabbing a clean one for himself.

Walking into the bedroom, he saw you sitting on top of the covers with your laptop on your desk tray as you bit your nails. He sighed sadly and walked over, grabbing a piece of gum from your vanity on the way. 

He moved your hand away from your mouth, his grip gentle on your wrist as he held out the gum to you.

No words needed to be exchanged, just a silent moment between you both before he left you alone on the bed to take his shower.

Neil stood under the stream, the hot water drenching his hair and running down his face. 

He avoided his music, knowing that it would do nothing to change his mood. He needed the silence – bask in the steam and the rhythmic beating of water on the titles around him. 

His head fell back, letting the water pelt him in the face as he took deep breaths. In front of him, his hands balled into fists when he inhaled and relaxed as he exhaled. 

Neil needed this. He needed this moment, to be alone and vulnerable behind the closed door – out of your sight. 

There was irony in it; he knew that. The irony when he ran off to hide in the safety of the bathroom so you didn’t have to see him break. Didn’t have to watch him replay every moment over and over in his head. You were going through enough, and he wasn’t about to let you see his hurt or his worry just yet. This wasn’t about him, and he wasn’t going to make it about him.

So, that’s why he was here, standing under the showerhead with his eyes closed, the events on the beach replayed behind his eyelids like a movie.

******

His stomach churned as he watched the video from over your shoulder. The pleads of the young man not going unheard. Then, the sickening crack of the shield being driven into his chest. He heard it again and again… and again. 

John Walker murdered someone. And the whole world saw it.

Rage drove up in his throat, slamming on the brakes and leaving a disgusting burnt taste on his tongue. 

It was almost a metallic taste, a morbid mimicry of the paused frame that lit up your features. 

Your expression seemed blank, shocked at the horrendous act. But your eyes told a different story. 

As they scanned over your phone screen, Neil could see the pain creep in. He watched them crack, breaking as they reflected the blood-stained shield.

Your nose twitched subtly as your lip quivered. He glanced at your hands, noticing how they shook slightly. He doubted that you noticed the tremor, just staring with unblinking eyes at your phone.

“Honey…” 

He wanted to get your attention but not startle you. Your fellow pilots began to stare, concern and pity etched on their faces. He needed to get you out of this, pull you away from the prying eyes and the inevitable questions they would bombard you with.

The squad would try to coddle you. Tip-toe around subjects to try not to make you cry. Or ask invasive questions that you weren’t ready to answer. They meant well, sure, but it wouldn’t help you. It wouldn’t make this situation better. Nothing would…

“Doll-”

You swallowed, your hands dropping to your sides as you excused yourself to trek up the sand wanting a moment alone. Your arm flexed as you had a death grip on your phone.

“Omaha, I didn’t-”

“I know, Garcia,” Neil mumbled as he turned to keep an eye on you, his back to the bonfire. “I know.”

He kept his eye on you as you talked on the phone, most likely with Sam or Bucky, as the others tried to continue on with the party. 

He watched your hands and your legs, noticing the near-perpetual bouncing of your left leg. 

Neil hated this. Hated just standing here, just being some witness to the damage John’s actions caused. His emotions were collateral damage, only worsening with each minute he watched you stand there in pain.

He couldn’t hear much, distant hissing and muffled sentences mostly. But then he heard you shout, your arm flying out to the side.

“You promised me, Sam! You gave me your word!”

His heart shattered. Even from this distance, he could hear how broken your voice was, how it was strained with unshed tears.

He felt his nose burn, sniffling on reflex as he rubbed it with his index finger. 

“Vikander? You alright?”

Omaha hummed absent-mindedly in response, not processing the question or the voice that asked it. 

“Neil, hey, are you okay?”

The hand on his shoulder pulled his attention from you, making him suck in a breath out of surprise. “What?”

Bob shot him a concerned look, “Are you okay? You looked like you zoned out for a second.” 

*****

His conversation with Bob is a blurry memory.

All he remembers is taking his eyes off you for what felt like a second to talk to Bob and take a sip of the water offered to him. By the time he turned back around to check on you, you had walked down to the shore.

He felt his stomach sink again as he remembered how your arms had been wrapped around your waist, how your shoulders moved up and down with your deep breaths. And how when he approached you, you scolded yourself for crying as you tried to subtly wipe at your tears.

You tried to lie and say you were fine, hiding your tears when he pushed you ever so slightly. You pushed back, dismissed your own feelings and held your hurt in. 

Neil’s tears mixed with the water running down his face.

But he didn’t care that he was crying. He didn’t care that he was crying over something he couldn’t fix. Something that was tearing you apart from the inside out, but you hid from him – hid from yourself. You were hurting, and it hurts him that you don’t think you can be vulnerable.

So, he didn’t care that he was crying because it was you – he loves you that much.

His shower was a little longer than normal, but he didn’t think you would really mind right now. 

He just went through his routine on autopilot as his mind wandered and raced, recapping the evening. He ended it with a cold shot, letting the freezing water cool his heated skin and hopefully soothe his aching heart.

Omaha got out and dried off, moving languidly as he kept zoning out.

He wasn’t sure what state he would find you in when he walked into the bedroom. That scared him. This whole situation scared him because he had no idea what to expect next. He didn’t know what you were going to do when you got to DC or when you saw John Walker. 

It all just made him uneasy. 

But he knew that he just had to trust you. Though he wasn’t going to abandon his concerns if he felt that something was dangerous. He’s your partner; your safety matters to him.

After he dried off and got dressed in his boxers and Navy shirt, he exited the bathroom as he ran the towel over his hair.

“You might want to give it a minute or two. Let the hot water replenish a little,” he said as nonchalantly as possible.

He didn’t hear a response, so he looked up to catch the tail end of your nod. 

“I got the tickets order. Flight leaves at about ten in the morning,” you responded softly, picking at your lip as you looked at your computer screen. “Um, San Diego International is the airport. It’s the closest but we’ll need to get up earlier so we can pack.”

Neil tried not to sigh out loud at your subject change. He knew you weren’t doing it on purpose; you were just trying to keep what you could in line and control whatever you could. He also knew the frustration in him wasn’t caused by you. 

He nodded and sat on your side of the bed, trying not to look at your computer screen knowing he would find articles about John on your screen.

“Baby,” he called softly, hoping you would look up at him. When you didn’t, he repeated the nickname: “Baby, please look at me.” 

When your eyes remained glued to your screen, he closed the laptop and grabbed your desk tray, moving it to your actual desk.

“Okay, no, you’re not gonna do that.”

“Neil-”

“No, Y/N,” he pushed, sitting in front of you. “You can’t do that because it is not going to help. You are just going to go further and further down a hole that I can’t pull you out of.”

He grabbed your hands, knowing that you would try to run away if he didn’t. “I get that you're frustrated. That you’re pissed off. I get it, baby. But reading articles that are full of more opinions than they are fact is not going to help you.”

You swallowed and looked at him, “People think he was justified…”

His heart shattered right then in his chest. Your defeated and tear-filled voice crashed into it, sending shards of his heart into his throat.

“How could they find murder justified? John had no right-” He stopped mid-sentence when he noticed that you weren’t looking at him. 

He cupped your chin, turning your head back to look at him and moving his hand to your cheek when you did. “That man did not deserve to die. Flag Smasher or not, he did not deserve that. John had no right to kill him.”

“Nico…”

He looked at you, confused. “What?”

Tears filled your eyes, your voice coming out in a soft whimper. “His name was Nico…”

“Sweetheart…”

“He was murdered… All because he wanted to help people. That’s all they want to do is help people, Neil.” Your voice cracked as he watched anger fill your eyes, “He left behind two sisters… Two girls who watched their brother get murdered. They got notified of his death through fucking social media. His murder is viral.” 

He stayed quiet, letting you go until you stopped yourself – willing to listen as long as you got your feelings out to him.

“Sure, the Flag Smashers methods aren’t ethical, and Karli hasn’t been a saint. But they’re the only ones actually willing to do anything to help those people. The GRC isn’t doing shit!”

He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t think there was much he could say. 

You pulled your hand from his, rubbing your face harshly. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. That… I didn’t mean to blow up on you like that.”

Neil shook his head immediately, resting his hand on your knee. “No, don’t apologize. You don’t have to bottle it up.” 

You gave him a weak smile, resting your hand on top of his. He smiled back at you reassuringly before he turned his palm up and kissed your hand.

You just sat like that for a moment. Your hand in his as the water rolled off his dark hair and onto the duvet, letting the silence settle between you for a moment.

“They think he’s justified because Lemar was killed during a fight… They see it as retribution for that,” you said softly after a few minutes while you played with his fingers. 

Omaha shook his head and opened his mouth to say something, but you continued.

“It wasn’t even Nico that killed Lemar. Karli was…”

He squeezed your hand, “So then it’s not retribution. And one injustice does not fix another.” 

You shook your head, looking down at your joined hands. “It doesn’t…”

A tear hit Neil’s hand, making his heart break – again. But he didn’t make a huge scene. He didn’t point it out. All he did was reach out and gently wipe the tear from your cheek. “Why don’t you go shower, Star-light? The water pressure is nice, and it should all be warmed up now. I’ll heat up your towel and hair towel in the dryer. What do you want to wear to bed?”

You sniffled and leaned into his hand. “One of your oversized shirts and a pair of your boxers, please.” He nodded and kissed your forehead, “You got it, doll.”

“Thank you, Oma, really.”

“You don’t gotta thank me,” he squeezed your hand. “Just go take a shower, relax. I’ll be out here if you need me.”

You nodded and gently pecked his lips, “I love you.” He kissed you back, “I love you too.”

Taking a deep breath, you got up and went to the bathroom, leaving Neil on the bed.

He sat on the bed and waited to hear you turn the shower on before he started moving around the room.

After grabbing the clothing items you asked for and his phone, he went to the laundry room.

He sighed heavily as he tossed the clothes in with the towels and started the dryer, hoping that they would be warm by the time you were done in the shower.

“Okay, now what to–”

Mid-sentence, Neil’s phone started ringing. He didn’t need to check the caller ID to know who it was.

“Hey Bob…” He answered, his voice flat to try and conceal the relief of someone to talk to.

“Hey, I was just calling to check-in. See how you both were holdin’ up.”

Neil sighed, his arm crossing over his chest as he leaned against the washing machine. “Honestly? Not great. I um… I caught her looking at articles.”

Bob inhaled sharply on the other end of the phone, “That’s not good…”

“No, no, it’s not… There are so many who agree with John’s actions and others that don’t. But they’re all just opinions. No one is going to know all the facts. They only know what they saw in that video. And what they saw was John murder someone with the shield in the middle of the town square.”

Omaha harshly ran his teeth over his bottom lip, “I don’t know what to do, Bob. She’s hurting, and she won’t talk to me. She’s said a few things, but the closest I got to her emotions was her voice… Then she fucking apologized for talking about it. What do I fucking do?”

“What you’re doing, Neil. Being there for her. Sometimes, that’s all you can do.”

“That’s not enough!”

“Neil, I know you’re angry…”

That was the understatement of the century. 

Neil was pissed. Someone hurt you. Someone’s careless and selfish actions have hurt you – again.

Someone has taken you from him. Their actions have caused you to internalize your feelings and put your guards up all over again. Making you hide from your safe places.

And that started a fire in him.

“I’m more than angry, Robert. She is hurting. She has to mourn the memory of her father after mourning him the first time!”

Neil tends to hold resentment towards the one that hurt you, Bob knew that. He still holds resentment towards your dad for what he did to you. No one will get away with trying to smother out his Star-light.

And now John was at the top of his list. 

“Walker had no right to murder that man – even if he were to be the one to kill Lemar. Retribution or not, it’s still fucking murder. And John won’t get away with this.”

Neil couldn’t give less of a fuck if he was Captain America or not. John wasn’t getting away with hurting you or disrespecting something that held so much meaning for you.

Bob sighed again, most likely putting his glasses on his head to rub his eyes. “Omaha, you know she won’t want you to get involved in this… She’s keeping things to herself for a reason. And while you don’t like it, she’s protecting you and herself by doing that.”

“I just want to be there for her. I want her to come to me so she doesn’t face this on her own,” Neil’s voice cracked as tears slipped down his cheeks. “I want to be her safe place again…”

“That is never going to change, Neil. Never. You will always be her safe place. And she knows that when she is ready, she can run to you, and you’ll be there with open arms. She just needs to process this on her own… give her time.”

Neil nodded, wiping his eyes harshly as he tried to regain his own composure. 

“Your feelings are justified, Neil. You are allowed to be upset, too. So don’t think that you being scared or upset about her closing herself is selfish or anything, because it’s not.”

Omaha couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, “Are you sure you’re not a mind reader, Bob?”

“Well, Nick Fury’s not on my doorstep, so I’m gonna stick with no,” Bob laughed.

A beat of silence passed before Neil spoke up.

��Hey, we’re leaving for DC tomorrow morning. Do you think you could go grab my Jeep from the airport and bring it back to the house? Y/N can leave her spare key somewhere for you. And maybe just look after the house since you're only a few houses down?”

“Of course, I can do that for you.”

“Thanks, man.” Neil sighed and looked back toward the bedroom. “I better get going. Calm myself down before she gets out of the shower.”

“Alright, good luck. Call me if you need anything.”

“Will do. Thank you.”

Both hung up, and Neil wiped his face before going back to the bedroom to wait for you to get out of the shower.

You sighed as you tossed and turned in your bed, your body becoming restless the moment you thought you were comfortable. You thought the shower would’ve calmed you down, but the stress was eating at your nerves and making your stomach churn constantly. 

The anxiety was making you feel hot, your already naturally high body temperature rising as your mind ran at a million miles a minute.

Huffing, you threw the cover off of you and got out of bed. 

Your feet drug as you took yourself to the kitchen. 

You got a glass of ice water before going to the living room and sitting in the corner of the couch. 

Sleep wasn’t coming to you anytime soon, not with all the thoughts running through your mind… So you sat on the couch and looked out of your sliding glass doors at the moonlit backyard.

Your eyes felt heavy with tears. They were tears of frustration and anger. Tears of heartbreak. It was all so much, and being left alone with your thoughts was probably the worst situation you could have put yourself in. But you couldn’t go anywhere or talk to anyone about this. They wouldn’t understand anyway. 

Tears weighed down your lash line, blurring your vision as you zoned out completely. They slowly overflowed, breaking the surface tension and tracking down your face.

But you weren’t crying. 

No. Crying involved you actually feeling something, and right now… numbness was overtaking it all. Pushing everything from the last few hours into one blurry mess of static.

You didn’t have time to cry… you had a mission to complete.

The next morning, Neil woke up to see you moving around the room and packing bags for both of you.

He glanced over and checked the time, seeing just how early it was, “What time did you get up?” You didn’t look up from what you were doing as you answered him, “Didn’t sleep.” 

“Star-light…” 

“Oma, I’m fine. If I need to sleep, I’ll sleep,” you said, still shoving things into your bags.

You didn’t need sleep. Sleep was the furthest down on your list of needs. What you really needed was to get on a plane and get to DC so you could confront the hurricane of emotions that were swirling through your being.

You needed to release the fermenting anger and frustration; it was poisoning you, and you knew it. But you were too damn stubborn, wanting to hold it in and take it out on the true cause of it.

Dumping it all on Omaha or your friends wasn’t fair, not in your eyes. It wasn’t justice in them either. John wasn’t going to miss your wrath. He’d been on your radar since he took up the mantle, and now you were trying to get a missile lock.

That was justice.

Neil sighed and got out of bed, ruffling his hair as he walked over to you. “I know you’re a super soldier, but you’re not invincible. Your body can only handle so much. You need to sleep.” He wrapped his arms around you, “I just-”

“Neil, I don’t want to talk about it right now,” you huffed, leaning on the duffels in front of you. 

“I know, and I’m not trying to get you to talk about it. I know you’ll come to me when you’re ready. But I’m not just gonna abandon my duties as your boyfriend. I’m still gonna make sure you take care of yourself because I love you.”

You sighed and dropped your head back onto his shoulder, “I know… I know, I’m sorry.” He kissed your temple, “Don’t apologize. You’re going through a lot. But I’m gonna make sure you’re taken care of.” 

Sniffling a little, you rest your hands on top of his. “Thank you, honey… I just–”

You were cut off by your phone ringing. 

You huffed again and went over to pick it up. “Hello?... No comment.” You hung up and shoved your phone into your sweatpants pocket. 

“That was fast,” Neil pointed out as he started packing whatever was left.

Rubbing your forehead, you sat on the bed as you sighed, “Yeah, that is the… fifth? Maybe the sixth reporter to call me for a statement on all of this. I can’t turn my phone off, so I just answer and say, ‘no comment’. This has been going on since 4 this morning.” You felt your phone go off with a short ring in your pocket. 

Neil opened his mouth to say something but you held a hand up, “Don’t get me started on the emails.”

He just nodded with a playful smile and continued to pack.

You both sat in silence for a little bit, but Omaha broke it when he noticed you were fidgeting.

“Hey, what’s going on? You’re a little more fidgety than you usually are…” 

Last night, as you evaded sleep, it occurred to you that Neil had no idea that John was a super soldier. You hadn’t told him that very important detail last night. It didn’t change your mind, but keeping your boyfriend in the dark about that wasn't fair.

You swallowed, playing with the worn cuffs of your hoodie, “There’s um…” You scratched your brow, “I didn’t tell you everything last night…” 

He stopped packing and came over to stand in front of you, “That’s okay, you don’t have to tell me–” 

“No, this,” you nodded as you kept your head down, looking at your lap. “This I need to tell you…” 

“Doll, you’re worrying me… what’s wrong?” 

You looked up at him, swallowing your nerves before speaking, “John took the serum… he’s a super soldier now.” 

Neil’s eyes widened as he took a few steps back, his lips parting slightly in shock.

“I’m sorry?”

It wasn’t a question. Not really. His brow was furrowed, and his hands were up as he tilted his head, but he wasn’t really asking.

He let out a dry chuckle, “Did you just say that John Walker, the man you’re about to fly to DC to confront, was a um… was a super soldier? Or-or am I hearing things? I really, really hope that’s not what you just said.”

“You heard right… John took the serum,” you played with your fingers, looking down at your lap.

Neil put his hands on his hips and nodded, “Okay…” He wiped his mouth before pressing his lips into a thin line and rolling them between his teeth. 

He took in a deep breath through his nose, attempting to keep his voice steady as emotion began to rise in his throat. He knew his hands would start shaking at any minute, so his voice couldn’t break or waiver and ruin how serious he was.

“You knew… You knew, and you were still gonna confront him? At probably the most emotionally unstable point in his life! Are you insane?!”

You winced a little and rubbed your face as he started to pace back and forth. “Oma-” “Were you even gonna tell me?” Neil cursed himself for the breathy, almost dejected tone that began to work its way into his voice. 

You looked up, desperation for understanding in your eyes. “Yes but-”

“When? Before or after you got yourself killed?”

You stood up, frustrated that he wasn’t letting you explain yourself, “I can handle myself, Neil.” 

“It’s not about that Y/N! It’s about whether or not John is capable of murder! And as we learned last night, he absolutely is!” 

You scoffed and put your hands on your hips, pointing an accusatory finger at your boyfriend, “You just don’t think that I can do it! You don’t think I can handle this, do you?” 

He stayed silent, his brown eyes avoiding you as he tongued his cheek.

Your heart dropped to your feet, and your hands fell limp at your sides. “You actually don’t think I can do this…”

He hung his head, “This is dangerous, Y/N. John isn’t just some dickhead with a shield anymore… He’s angry, and I’m sure whatever the council has to say to him can’t be good.” 

In a flash, your anger resurfaced. “A shield? A shield?! It’s more than just ‘a shield’, Neil! It’s THE shield! The shield my father earned! The shield that was made for him! For HIM! Not John! My dad worked for that shield, he earned it! John was handed the shield! So don’t just call it ‘a shield’ because it is so much more than that! And you know that!”

Neil flinched a little at your volume, not expecting you to react that way, but not shocked by it either. “You’re right, sweetheart, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just…”

Finally, he met your eyes, and you could see the emotion swirling in them. “I’m scared…” 

You swallowed and stayed silent, your anger smothering out as your expression softened.

“An-and I get that confronting him is the best way for you to get your feelings and emotions out… But we know what John is capable of. We know that he can and will kill someone with the slightest bit of provoking. You are going to be his antagonist, and that scares the shit out of me.”

“I can handle John, Neil…” You protested quietly, still hurt by the fact he thought you couldn’t. 

He sighed and rubbed your arms before tilting your head up. “It’s not that I don’t think you can. You’re quite literally the strongest person I know. But I’m scared, Y/N, and I’m not apologizing for being worried for your safety. I just need you to be safe.” 

You sniffled, “I’m not changing my mind… I can’t let him slip by, thinking that I don’t know what he did. He has to know-” You looked away as emotion clogged your throat. “He has to know, Neil. He has to know that I know.”

He gently turned your head back to face him, “I know. And I’m not asking you to change your mind. The bastard deserves to see the pain he caused. All I’m asking is that you’re careful and you really think about your approach. I love you too much to keep in my concerns.” 

You nodded before wrapping your arms around him. “I love you too. I love you so much.” You pulled back and pressed a kiss to his lips, “I’ll try my best to be careful. But I can’t make you a promise…” He nodded, “That’s all I ask.” 

Omaha pecked your lips, “C’mon, we got a flight to catch.”

how do you even describe this...

other than just pain and anger.

star is kicking herself more than she probably should be and omaha is just trying to keep her as safe as he can...

but how will confronting walker turn out?

hi guys! i just want to thank you again for your incredible patience. i can not and will not promise you when the next part will be up and ready to go. but i will be working on it to get it out to you guys 💙

lt rogers tags <33 (i apologize if i missed anyone if i did please remind me in the comments):

@milesdickpic @roosterscockpit @luckyladycreator2 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @twsssmlmaa

@malindacath @startrekfangirl2233 @indigodaydream @that-one-random-writer @hangmansgbaby

@nikkipea @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @yourlocalloser-core @mimi-8793 @scalesarenotbalanced

@carnationworld @bethabear12

[sgt-morgan]

Mine all mine. 🌙🦋

Joel Miller x OC

Summary: late night ramblings.

Warnings: angst, pure unadulterated angst. Death of a character. Illusion to illness or cancer. The unnamed OC is AFAB and female identifying.

A/N: This is so fucking sad. It’s depressing. Do not be mad at me if you read it and are sad, I cried while writing it. I was listening to Mitski and Neil Young and I accidentally made this. I’m so sorry. Read at your own risk. I’ve been going through it so I needed this outlet.

Joel senses it before it happens. He knows all her little tricks and tells. Hell, he should, after about four years of sleeping next to her every night. Her every tick is tattooed on his brain, he can practically read her every movement behind his eyelids. She shifts a bit, and curls up on his chest and then he can feel the weight of her eyes on him, her chin digging into his chest. She’s staring at his face, and here any moment now, she’d run her fingertips down the bridge of his nose, over his lips, down his cheek, then she’d rest her hand on the side of his neck. She can’t sleep, or she won’t, doesn’t matter, if she wants him awake, he’ll be awake.

She traces her favorite path with ease, and he sighs into the calm feeling of sweet contact. Her little sweet, familiar, touches as she debates whether or not to bother him. She, of course, is not a bother, but she wouldn’t believe it. So he just waits as she plucks up the courage to start speaking. He gets impatient though, always wanting more of her, as much of her as he can get, so he decides to cave.

“Baby, can I help you?” He cracks an eye open to see her staring up at him with tired yet adoring eyes and he grins.

“No, I just love you.” She shakes her head and keeps staring. He stares right back, wanting to keep every bit of her he can locked away in his heart. He’s been trying to do that more, he knows he needs it he guesses, he still thinks there are pieces of her his memory will never properly replicate. He hopes he’s wrong.

“Ok,” he nods, running a hand up and down her back in a soothing motion. “You’re still awake?” It’s a rhetorical question, he knows she’s awake obviously, he just hasn’t picked up on the why yet.

“Yeah,” she nods, gently rubbing her cheek on his chest and inhaling his scent. “I’m tired, but I’m not sleepy.”

Joel peeks at the alarm clock to see its 11:50. Not terrible, it’s not 3 am, he figures she’s probably in pain, so she’s not sleeping well. He forgets the clock, it doesn’t matter, he’d never sleep again if he thought she needed him.

“Ok,” he nods again, pressing a kiss to her hair. “ whatcha thinking about?” He runs a hand through her hair and scratches the base of her scalp. If she could purr he thinks, she’d be as content as a cat, she loves when he plays with her hair, always has.

“When we get married, I wanna do it on the beach.” She mumbles, lightly biting his arm before kissing him in the same spot. “I wanna go out of the way of a lot of people so people who I’m obligated to invite won’t come to my destination wedding.” She starts running a finger up and down his face again and he just nods and listens to her start talking about everything and nothing. “I also think it would be really funny to make Ellie and Sarah the flower girl and ring barer. I want my sister to officiate, and I think that we should make my brother an usher, just to piss him off. June can be the made of honor. Also? I don’t wanna wear shoes under the dress. I just think they’re uncomfortable.” He hums in approval.

“Yeah, that way I can wear boots and it won’t seem weird.” He nods.

“Exactly,” she shifts again, laying flat in his arm next to him and stares up at the ceiling, silent for a moment. “I think pink would look really ugly on me, so we can’t use that as the wedding color.”

“Yeah, we should do green, looks good on you.” Joel nods.

“Yeah, sold,” she nods. “Harvest moon by Neil young is out first dance.” She says, wrapping an arm around Joel’s again from this new position on her back. He turns his face over to look at her, her eyes are a puffy purple color, and her lips are cracked. A cough wrenches from her chest, and he doesn’t say anything, just watches her. Soaks up the tone of her voice and the color of her eyes, even though they’re bloodshot and exhausted.

“Yeah, of course. I’ll make Bill play it on the piano. He’s got the talent.” He nods, listening to her breath rattle in her chest. He breathes in the smell of her, it’s muffled by sweat and sickness, but he wants it imprinted in his skin and on his brain.

“We should do a bonfire instead of an actual afterparty or reception or whatever.” Her breathes keep getting shallower and shallower, her words are slurring. He can feel the tears press behind his eyes, but he won’t acknowledge them, and he damn sure won’t let her see them. “Couple coolers of beer and someone’s car radio. That kinda thing.”

“I like it, casual but fun.” He nods, pulling her closer and burying his nose in her hair.

“Do you think she’ll like me?” She wonders, the words are getting spacey and unintelligible, but he doesn’t mind, he knows what she’s asking.

“Oh sure, she’s gonna love you.” Joel nods, running a hand up and down her arm. Then everything is quiet and he just lays there, soaking her in, he wants to scream for Ellie, but she saw her this morning, Ellie already knows everything she needs to hear from her, so he decides to be selfish, wants her to relax into this. Her eyes drift around seeing things he can’t, but god does he wish he could.

“My sister, she looks so much like my mom now.” She mumbles. “And my brother is tall, I didn’t think he would be tall.” She laughs. “My mom always fussed with his clothes, I wonder if she’s gonna fuss with mine, think my dress is gonna fit?”

“Course, it’s gonna be great, you’re gonna be the prettiest bride out there.” He nods, letting a tear soak into his pillow. He pulls her that much closer, trying to memorize the press of her against his skin.

“Oh wow, my June is so pretty.” She says breathless. “She doesn’t look a thing like her daddy thank god, she’s gonna love you.” She laughs, but it’s a wet,rattling thing. It hurts his chest. “I bet she and Sarah are gonna be best friends.” There’s that silence again, he lets her think. He would t dare interrupt whatever she’s seeing right now. Then she gasps.

“She’s got your eyes.” She says with such conviction, and he looses his last bits of restraint. He knows who she’s talking about. “Joel, she’s beautiful. You were right, she’s sweet.” Joel can’t help the sobs that wrack his body now, but he knows she doesn’t notice them, he wouldn’t be crying if he thought she could. She turns to him suddenly, and it would be startling if her eyes weren’t so radiant and happy.

“Oh hey there cowboy, I love you.” she grins as if meeting him that first time all over again and he beams at her and mouths it back through his tears. “What’s a girl gotta do to get a kiss?” She teases and he can’t help but grin.

“All you ever have to to is ask.” He sniffles and kisses her with every ounce of love he can find in his body. He breathes every last piece of his soul he has left in him into that kiss. It’s a wretched thing, torn up and sad, but it’s her’s. He wants her to have it, to take it with her. She’ll know what to do with the pieces, she’ll mend it and give it back when he sees her again. When he pulls back her eyes are closed, she looks peaceful, he won’t try and wake her. He’ll spare himself the false hope. He doesn’t want to disturb her anyway.

“You just get ready up there, you hear?” He whispers, tucking her hair behind her ears. “You get all dressed up, and you practice your dancing. I’ll see you on the beach. I’ll wear my boots, and my tie for you ok? You just stand at the end of the aisle and look pretty. I’ll see you as soon as I get there.” He looks miserably at the window where the breeze floats into the room, casting moonlight over the sill. A little butterfly is on the sill, he smiles when he sees it.

“Thanks for coming to get her Sarah.” He huffs a laugh and lays there holding her a while longer. It’s the last chance he’ll get after all.

When morning breaks, Tommy finds Joel sitting under the tree behind his house. He’s got her jacket across his lap and her locket curled in his fist. The dirt is piled up neatly and a little wooden cross is on top of it, her name neatly carved into it as well as a little moon. Tommy knew this was coming. Knew it from the moment Joel came barreling out of the doctors after you inexplicably collapsed on a patrol. It was awful, watching her suffer like that. It nearly killed them all, but she was a trooper. Through all of the pain, and sickness, and loss of function, she stood strong. She smiled and laughed and reminded them all they would be ok. Hell, she was so damn cheerful throughout the whole thing he almost believed they would be. He didn’t believe it now.

“She had to go get ready, we’re getting married yah know?” Joel sniffs and raises to dust himself off. He pats Tommy on the shoulder. Tommy knew about this, the planned wedding in the spring. She talked about it when she felt her worst, planning a wedding that would never happen, but if it made her smile they would plan her a wedding on mars. It was whatever got them through it, that was the rule, whatever made the day go by.

Tommy doesn’t know what to say, what to do to make it better, so he doesn’t say anything. He just sheds a tear and nods, patting his brother on the back. “I put the stuff that’s useable in a box on the porch, get em to who needs em. That’s what she wanted. Hope you don’t mind me keeping this though.” He runs his hands over the fabric of her coat and shakes his head.

“Of course not Joel, that’s fine. Keep whatever you want. I’ll take- um.” Tommy clears his throat and sniffs. “I’ll take the box to Maria.”

Joel nods. “I’ll uh, I’ll just go give this to Ellie.” He runs a thumb over the locket he’s holding. “She’s got her other jacket.” Tommy nods and his eyes are suddenly drawn to a set of rings on a new chain around Joel’s neck.

“She told me to hold onto em till the wedding. Says she would loose them.” Joel sniffs. “I’ll just. I’ll just go see Ellie.” Tommy hopes Ellie doesn’t give him a hard time, they may not be on speaking terms, but she is their only level ground. They don’t fight when she’s involved. He hopes that the kid lets him back in, he looks bitterly at the grave and presses and hand to his lips. Joel whistles a tune as he walks away, and Tommy’s eyes press closed when he recognizes it. He can’t help the bitter sob that wracks through him, heartbroken once again for his big brother, unable to fathom how one person can keep loosing so much and still keep going. Still, Joel’s tune wraps around him like a hug. It’s their song.

“Because I'm still in love with you

I want to see you dance again

Because I'm still in love with you

On this harvest moon.”

[lovebillyhargrove]

Wake me up when July is around

Chapter 7

Chapter 8/?

Billy knows he's not the luckiest guy in the world when it comes to family matters. However, he's also aware that people have it worse, so he's not complaining.

Especially, when once in a million of years the sun shines down on him,

and when it does, Billy truly appreciates it. Turns out, having Susan's relatives living in a nearby town can be a blessing

Cause guess what

Neil and Susan are going to visit Aunt Shirley and Uncle Dean this weekend, with Max and

Drum roll

They are not taking Billy on this little family trip because Neil doesn't want to undergo the shame of his "imbecile of a son" interacting with his wife's respectable relatives again. Seriously, does dad really think he's punishing Billy like that, does he believe it is going to make him feel bad?

Cause Billy would take such punishment any day. Gladly.

He can't believe his luck. He is willing to behave in a more imbecilic way in the future if it gets him free passes out of family situations like that.

Max is upset, heheehe, of course she is, she'd rather stay here and hang out with her friends from that stupid AV club. On Thursday evening Billy overhears her asking Susan, voice full of bitter spite

"Why do I have to come? Why isn't Billy coming?"

What now? He wants to strangle her. If Neil and Susan change their minds and decide to drag Billy along, he'll definitely commit a crime, he can't be held responsible for his actions. Just shut up, Max, it's not your fucking business why he's not coming.

"It was dad's decision."

Max snaps

"His dad's, he's not my dad! Don't say it like he's our dad!"

Susan tells her to be quiet and "we talked about it, honey."

Susan is deranged if she still believes Max is willingly going to call Neil "dad".

Billy can't help but smile gleefully at his stepsister and give her a little wave when he sees her stomping to her room.

Max flips him off and slams the door.

Wait, it's getting better. Neil, Susan and the little rat are leaving on Friday evening and coming back late on Sunday. Dear parents and beloved sister are gonna be away for two whole fucking days. Uncle Dean wants to show them the farm which is, apparently, huge, and they are also gonna visit Susan's 100-year-old nana or something.

Billy's so happy, he's afraid of jinxing his luck. It happens so seldom, when he gets the house all to himself. When just the two of them - his dad and he - lived in pre-Mayfield era, Billy got plenty of time alone at home, and he couldn't stand it. Couldn't stand the emptiness, the silence. He used to go to Nick or his other buddies, stay out late on the beach or the streets. He never invited any of his friends over because Neil never welcomed it.

When the Mayfield ladies moved in, instead of feeling better cause he was never alone at home anymore, Billy hated the intruders with all the hatred his teenage heart could summon.

So hell to the fucking yes, he's getting a breath of freedom this weekend. Billy does have work on Saturday and Sunday, but he can do whatever the fuck he wants to on Friday and Saturday evenings.

After he says "Have a great trip!" and closes the door at 5 pm on Friday

He takes the weights out to the living room, turns on the tv, and the music, opens the windows - it's going to be chilly but he wants to smoke inside, and cracks a can of beer open after a hard-working day at school.

Heaven.

The entire weekend is fucking his.

He's home absolutely alone.

He spends the whole Friday evening like that, working out, watching car programs on tv, making something quick to eat, smoking, drinking beer when he feels like it. At some point he takes out a porn video tape hidden in his suitcase that's in his closet, puts it in the VCR in the living room and ends up jerking off to porn multiple times till his balls run dry, right on the family couch.

He then rolls a joint and smokes it sitting in his car blasting the speakers at midnight.

When Billy goes to bed at around 1.30 am, his head is blissfully empty.

On Saturday he gets up late, ignores the mess he's left in the kitchen and living room, - he's gonna have plenty of time to clean up tomorrow morning, - has breakfast watching MTV on the couch and drives to work. Old Joe makes a note of Billy's good mood and invites him to share lunch together in his little office in the garage. The old man is okay, knows a lot about cars. Been in this business his whole life. Billy thinks he misses his son who got married and moved to Indianapolis, he sure likes talking about him. Mr. Daley also seems to like Billy. What's there not to like? Billy's work ethic is excellent. He's never late, he's smart, quick and knows what he's doing.

When he gets home at four in the afternoon, he takes a long shower, throws a sandwich together, rewinds the porn tape he's left in the VCR and goes to his room to look for another one.

Billy then changes his mind, digs into his school bag and finds a copybook with Vicky's number scribbled on it.

***

On Monday, through quiet whispers, gossip, like spiderwebs, is spreading all over Hawkins High.

Rumor has it, Hargrove and Vicky have fucked.

Rumor has it, Vicky's in love with him. She's walking around the school with her girlfriends, having private conversations, blushing slightly and exchanging eloquent glances

Her eyes always on the search for Billy.

Vicky's sitting in classes with a dreamy look on her face

Languidly examining Billy's profile while he's busy writing stuff down from the blackboard.

Judging from the way she's staring at him, it's probably true.

She's in love.

Hargrove, on the other hand, seems his usual self, only much calmer. Sex with Vicky did him good.

During lunch break he's sucking on a straw of the juice-box and listening to Tina talking about the absolute must-be-there of a party she's having this Friday night for Halloween.

"I hope everyone has figured out their costumes!"

Vicky is watching Billy's lips and tongue play with the straw.

She's not the only one whose eyes are following the movements of Billy's pretty mouth

Apart from some other girls, Harrington who is sitting two tables over and seems to be all lovey-dovey with his girlfriend -

what was it? A nice dinner with the princess's family followed by a timid and unskilled blowjob up in her room at the weekend? -

shoots an occasional glance at Billy, now and again

Harrington did have a quite pleasant Friday dinner, thank you very much, but not at Nancy's, although Mrs. Wheeler wouldn't have minded. No, he spent the whole evening with his parents, miraculously dodging all the questions about his future that he didn't and still doesn't have answers for. Well, mom and dad drank wine and were in good spirits, Dad was mostly preaching the wisdom, so Steve was just stuffing his belly.

On Saturday morning while Steve was still in bed, parents went to Indianapolis for a couple of days to visit mom's sister. Harrington drove to Tommy's place and they hung out in his room dishing about the people they know.

Steve told his mom and dad he didn't want to go to Indianapolis cause he had plans to study, and he indeed opened some school books. For a couple of hours. He also had a very nice Sunday with Nancy. They went to a diner, and spent the night at his place, and yes, they had sex which started with a timid blowjob which lasted a minute, and led to missionary. Steve has been meaning to spice up their sex life a bit, but he feels it's not the right time now with everything Nance has been going through, so he's happy with whatever he's given.

Harrington's eyes fall on Billy's tongue again -

the hell he's doing with that straw? -

and he's losing the trail of their conversation with Tommy.

All of a sudden there's an uneasy feeling in Steve's inside, simmering, lurking. It feels like calm before the storm. He can't explain it. The sex was good and tender, although Nancy seemed a bit distant but when hasn't she lately?

Maybe it's asshole Hargrove who's been minding his business and it is strange? Steve's probably overthinking things that might have actually just settled down. It's quite likely their stupid rivalry with Hargrove has somehow dissolved. He's got a girlfriend now - if Vicky has been honoured which is still a big question, - his own circle of buddies to hang out with, he's got a job, he's got off Steve's back.

Feels strange.

Hargrove was the one who fixed Andy's yellow camaro. The guy must be good with his hands, huh. Steve's never fixed anything. Has had everything done for him. Never worked a day in his entire life.

Speaking of cars, his beamer needs an oil change, and just uh .. a check up. Just a thought, for later.

As for their relationship with Nancy, Steve will keep on trying to bring it back to the way it was.

Calm before the storm? Nah, it's most definitely bullshit.

He shrugs the feeling off, hugs his girlfriend tighter and resumes listening to Tommy rambling about him wanting to dress as the Karate Kid for the upcoming party.

***

Tina wasn't lying when she told everyone the party is going to be massive. The trees on the front lawn and the house are toilet papered, cars are parked haphazardly near the house and down the street, there's Steve's BMW, Tommy's Ford, Andy's and Billy's camaros .. Drunk up to various degrees teenagers are everywhere, outside and inside, talking, dancing, shouting, making out, drinking some more. Hawkins High students went wild with costumes, and with alcohol. There's a huge bowl of punch which Roy still needs to come up with a name for, endless beer and vodka bottles and a keg.

"Shout at the devil" by Mötley Crüe is ripping the night up. The party in in full swing. Tina welcomes everyone dressed in Madonna's "Like a virgin" costume. The outside crowd is counting

" .. forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty, fifty-one, fifty-two !!"

All are cheering and Billy is brought down from the keg, beer foam flowing out of his mouth and down his well-defined pecs and abs. He's dressed as a .. Terminator? Black leather jacket, black fingerless gloves. Chest out for everyone to see and drool over, help yourselves.

The crowd is going insane

"Yeah! Fifty-two!"

Tommy - in a Cobra Kai Dojo costume - is sticking a lit cigarette in Hargrove's mouth

"We got ourselves a new keg king, everybody!"

Billy's holding a cigarette with trembling fingers, taking a shaky drag, yelling

"That's how you do it, Hawkins! That's how you do it!"

He is so wasted, god please help him.

People start chanting

"Bil-ly! Bil-ly! Bil-ly!"

Hagan is putting his arm around his shoulder and they get inside the house. The place is trashed. Toilet paper gets in Billy's face and he wants to .. what, lick it?? It's so soft .. He's fucking plastered.

Hargrove spots King Steve leaning on a wall with his prissy princess and without giving it a second thought starts walking towards him, through the crowd, climbing over the couch, which he doesn't really register cause his legs seem to move on their own, and

when he comes face to face with the King

Harrington takes his sunglasses off, like .. like he doesn't want to hide from Billy's intense stare

Why? What is this smoldering animosity between them?

Tommy's again materializing by Billy's side

"We got ourselves a new keg king, Harrington! Fifty-two!"

Mike, who happens to stand nearby, cuts in although no-one asked for this dude's opinion

"Yeah. Eat it, Harrington!"

Steve just stares back at Hargrove, holds the gaze

Is Hargrove back at it again? Just when Steve thought that the guy found something better to do.

Nancy who was standing by Steve's side, suddenly walks away, and Harrington has to go

"Yeah, whatever, Tommy. Not now."

I've got something else going on here.

Nancy walks into the kitchen and curiously smells the red liquid in a huge bowl

"What's in this?"

Roy who's been hanging around the bowl practically the whole evening provides the necessary information

"Pure fuel, pure fuel! Whoo!!"

Burps loudly and goes on pumping more fuel into his system. He's totally going to end up puking all over the kitchen

Nancy fills a plastic cup with punch and takes a big sip. When Steve catches up with her, she's already drunk half the cup

"Hey .. Who, whoa, take it easy, Nance? Take it easy!""

"We're just being stupid teenagers for the night. Wasn't that the deal?"

***

Steve knows he dragged her to this party, she didn't want to go. Nothing new.

Today at school Nancy thought that she had seen Barb in the library. It wasn't Barb, of course, but the silhouette and the hair colour reminded Nancy of her missing friend.

"Steve, I can't keep doing this." She told him behind the closed door of a small library room

"Doing what?"

"Pretending like everything is okay."

"What are you talking about?"

"Barbara. It's like everyone forgot. It's like no-one cares. Did you hear her parents want to hire a private detective and they'll have to sell their house to scrape the money?"

"Their house ..? How much does this detective actually cost? Are they sure it's not a scam?"

"I .. I don't know about the money, but they are going to spend the rest of their lives looking for her. It's destroying them."

"Nance, I know it's terrible. But .. I don't understand what we can do about it."

Nancy looked as though she wanted to tell Steve something but stopped herself midway. It wasn't the first time when Steve got the feeling that she was hiding something from him.

She fell quiet and Steve decided to use the same strategy - distraction.

"Hey, it's hard but .. but let's just go to Tina's stupid party .. wear our stupid costumes that we've been working on for a stupid amount of time and just pretend that we're stupid teenagers, okay? Can we just do that, just for tonight?"

"Okay." Nancy sure sounded super excited about it.

"Come here." Steve pulled her into a hug.

Nancy sighed and laid her head on her boyfriend's shoulder.

***

Steve remembers their conversation now, it happened about eight hours ago and backfired pretty quickly. Looks like Nancy took his words as a guide to act exactly like Steve said but multiplied it by a hundred.

Why can't things just be easy?

The thing is, Nance has already had enough. The girl isn't experienced enough when it comes to alcohol, and a couple of bottles of beer she had earlier have done their job. Still, she willfully fills her cup with punch again.

"No, no no, Nance!"

"Get off!"

"No, you've had enough, okay?"

"Screw you!"

"Nance, I'm serious. Stop. Hey, hey .. stop. No, I'm serious! Put it down!" Steve's trying to snatch the cup from his drunk girlfriend's hands

"No."

"Nance, put it down!"

"Steve, stop!"

He doesn't stop because what the hell? It's enough! Nancy is not letting go of her drink, but he's still trying to grab it. They look like kids. It's hands moving chaotically and

Oh shit, one wrong movement, and she's spilling the blood red punch all over herself, all over the white dress

People around them gasp

"What the hell?" Of course, it's Steve's fault.

Everything is his fault, according to Ms. Wheeler.

"Nance, I'm sorry."

Nancy probably wants to wash the stain off, so she goes to the bathroom, and Steve's trotting behind her. Because that's what a good boyfriend does, right? She opens the tap and starts rubbing the stain with a wet cloth but it's useless

"That's not coming off, Nance." Steve just wants her to stop being so stubborn, what has he done, where's his mistake?

"It's coming."

"Come on. Let me just take you home, okay?"

It's not gonna come off, the dress it ruined.

"Let me take you home, Nance."

His girlfriend looks at him eyes full of anger, slurring the words

"You wanted this."

What does she mean? He only wanted them to have a nice time together, jesus, is that so awful?

"No, I didn't want this. I told you to stop drinking."

"Bullshit. It's bullshit."

Steve doesn't like the way Nancy's saying the word. It .. it doesn't make sense

"No, it's not bullshit. Okay? It's not bullshit."

"What? You're pretending like everything is okay. Like my friend didn't disappear in your backyard."

Pretending? .. Steve's not ..

"Pretending like we're partying. Like we didn't kill Barb."

"We .. what? I didn't kill anybody. Did you kill her?"

"Not with our hands, Steve."

"Whoa whoa hold on, Nance. I didn't kill her. You didn't kill her."

"Oh yeah? We shouldn't have left her alone there, near your .. pool."

"Nance, she wasn't even my friend! You brought her there!"

"Are you saying I killed her? It's all my fault?"

"Nance, it's nobody's fault. Also, why shouldn't we have left her alone? Were we supposed to babysit her the whole evening? How did we know something like this was going to happen?"

"I don't know, Steve! But she's gone now, and it's all bullshit, all of it, I'm so sick of pretending!"

The way she's looking at Steve, there's no love. There's only frustration and guilt.

"I told her to go home, so that I could spend the night with you!"

"Nance .. you didn't know .."

"It's all bullshit. Let's just party, let's pretend .. pretending like we're in love and we're partying."

Wait, what?

"Like we're in love?" Steve can feel his own voice breaking

"We're partying. Party. Let's party."

Maybe he misheard her, maybe she didn't mean it.

"Like we're .. you don't love me?"

"It's bullshit." Nancy turns off the water. The dress is definitely ruined. The evening is ruined.

She spins around and walks out of the bathroom, Steve is standing near the sink

"Nance! Nance wait!"

He knows that he has to follow her again, she's drunk and he has to take her home, and he will, he just needs to .. needs a moment to pull himself together.

He only wanted to have a good time.

It's all bullshit, apparently. He is bullshit. Their love is bullshit.

Is it for real?

Steve's alone in the bathroom.

He's looking at himself in the mirror.

Steve didn't kill anyone. He invited Nancy that night in June cause he wanted to spend time with her, he wanted to sleep with her, okay? He was, and still is, in love. Jesus fucking christ, they shouldn't have left Barb alone? Who would have thought something like this was going to happen??

Why is Nancy putting the blame on them, on him ? He didn't do anything bad. Steve can understand Nancy is feeling guilty, but .. he doesn't know how to help her. It's not their fault.

Distraction as a way to make her feel better doesn't seem to be working. It has only made everything worse.

Ffffuck.

He doesn't .. he doesn't know what to do.

The door of the bathroom opens wide and an absolutely wasted Billy Hargrove stumbles inside.

His heavy gaze is landing on Steve's face, hand going up slowly, and grabbing Steve by the collar of his jacket.

Almost gently.

The fuck?

There is no force.

"Haarrringtn .. Course it's you." Billy's snickering

"Can a guy piss? Or you're gonna throw a tantrum again and start shouting this is your fucking bathroom?"

He's such an idiot. It doesn't even make sense. It's Tina's house.

Hargrove's grin is obnoxious, Steve wants to punch it off the dumb drunk face. Bet one punch is going to be enough to knock him off his feet. He is so fucking hammered. Barely standing straight, slurring every word, and his eyes are so glassy, it looks like they're fake.

"You gonna stand here and watch me piss, Harrington?"

The grip on the collar tightens, and Billy starts getting closer, but Steve shakes Billy's hand off and shoulders past him.

When their shoulders collide for a second, Steve can't help it, there's something .. the force, the strength, Hargrove's body feels like a rock, big and solid.

He walks out of the bathroom but doesn't know where to go. The word bullshit echoes in his head, and he's suddenly so tired of this freaky night.

Let's make it freakier.

Steve turns around and opens the door to the goddamn bathroom again. If he can't distract Nancy, he can try distracting himself.

Hargrove's standing near the sink, washing his hands. He's swaying slightly, turns off the tap and is about to start on his way out when Harrington pushes him back inside. Slams the door shut without turning his back.

Something sweet and deadly is spreading through his veins. He wants to shove Hargrove further, wants to make him fall, nevermind that the guy's drunk, Steve doesn't care. There it is, a glimpse of weakness, and Steve wants to probe it, how deep it's gonna go.

Hargrove seems taken aback. Confused. Steve looks at him like crazy. What does he want? He's not so sure anymore. He wants everything to be the way it was before the summer, before the fall. His heart is turned inside out at Nancy's words, and anger is mixed with pain, because what the fuck?? Why is it his fault anyway? He didn't do anything bad, and now he's shit? He runs after her like a fool in love, but according to her it's bullshit?

And there's Hargrove, with his fucking basketball skills and badass car and he's so tough, so cool, so fucking macho, swaying his ass in those jeans in the school hallways, hanging out with Steve's friends and stealing his keg king title. Getting on Harrington's nerves by simply existing.

It can all go to hell, for all Steve cares. If it's bullshit, let it all blow up.

Billy is not the only one who's unhinged. Whatever it's called. Steve's hurting inside. She doesn't love him? Why, why not? What has he done wrong?

Both Hargrove and Harrington are staring at each other with wide open eyes. The trajectory is short and simple, eyes - lips, lips - eyes. Hargrove's eyelashes are too long, too thick, too fucking thick, it's annoying. Steve can hear them rustling.

He feels Billy's hot breath somewhere near his mouth, it smells like beer and cigarettes and a hint of mint gum. These smells are mixed with a barely audible scent of sweat coming off Hargrove's body and also some delicious perfume .. Steve knows this smell, he knows its name, he's sampled it in perfume stores

He notices that Billy's eyes are becoming predatory and wild. Unpredictable.

However, is it so hard to predict what's gonna happen if they stare at each other's lips like that?

Their lips are so close. A flash of a second, and it's Billy who goes for it

Stopping only an inch away. What the fuck, he's not gonna do it? Steve sees that Hargrove is slipping away from this, so he grabs Billy by the back of the neck, his grip feels like it's made of iron, fingers digging in that messy mullet. He pulls. He has to pull because Hargrove's balking like a stubborn donkey.

Fuck no, you're not getting away from me.

Steve locks their mouths together. Hargrove's lips are soft and .. and unexpectedly tender.

The kiss - cause that's what it is, right? - feels fucking weird. It's not gross, it's just weird but the kind of weird you wanna explore. They are looking into each other's eyes, Hargrove is narrowing his stare at Steve even more, like he's trying to figure out his game and then he pushes him away muttering a quiet

"The fuck .."

But the strength is not there really, so Steve pulls him back and kisses him again

Maybe I like it

Flashing lights at the back of his mind

He feels hot all over, feverish. It must be the alcohol, it must be the pain of Nancy's words still ringing in his head

Bullshit bullshit you are bullshit what we have is bullshit your love is bullshit

This time, Steve's lips stay on Billy's a couple of seconds longer, and when a low mmmm leaves his throat, he slides his tongue between Hargrove's lips. Billy is not making it easy, cause he attempts to shove Steve away again, but it's weak, and Harrington is holding him tighter, one hand still gripping the back of his head, the other slithering around Billy's waist. It's like Hargrove surrenders, opens his mouth more, but the moment his own tongue touches Harrington's,

Steve is pulling away as if he touched something hot, as if he got burnt.

Afraid to get burnt more.

Enough.

Everything is a rollercoaster together with a joyous and vile feeling blooming inside Steve - he now knows what Hargrove's deal is. He's cracked the Californian sun on hot wheels.

If someone, say, Tommy or .. or any other guy tried to kiss Harrington, he'd shove him hard, the hell you think you're doing? He wouldn't want it. He'd probably rinse his mouth after.

Hargrove didn't push him away. To be fair, he did, at first. But then, when Steve showed persistence? Billy kissed him back. He wanted more, didn't want to stop.

Steve knows his secret now.

There's a satisfied smile flickering on his lips.

You sure seemed to enjoy kissing a guy, Billy boy.

Steve swings the door wide and walks out, leaving Hargrove alone in the bathroom

As a matter of fact, Steve's got a drunk girlfriend here somewhere. Though it's not clear anymore if they're still together or not.

Steve goes to look for Nancy but can't find her.

He spots Tommy and Carol dancing and making out in the middle of the crowd. The party is still on and getting louder.

"Hey, Tommy, you seen Nancy?"

"Yeah, she went home."

Carol is smiling and Steve doesn't like her smile or her tone

"She's okay, Steve, she went home. She's probably in her bed already all tucked up."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, she's fine. Did you have a fight or something?"

"Uh .. kinda. Okay, I'm .."

"Hey man, everything alright?"

No, Tommy, fucking everything is fucked up.

"Yeah. I'm going home. You guys have fun."

***

Steve gets home after midnight, falls on the bed. His mind's on fire.

Nancy, what the fuck was that with Nancy? Are they still together? Is their whole relationship bullshit, that's what it is for her ??

Steve's wounded, Steve's hurting.

What has he done wrong?

He kissed Hargrove, that was definitely wrong.

He has him figured out now though.

There's a burning tingling sensation on his lips that won't go away

It's not gonna happen again, but deep down ..? If he's completely drunkenly honest with himself?

He liked the feeling of his lips on Billy's.

Tomorrow in the daylight his mind's gonna be set straight. Now in the darkness, Steve can secretly relish the feeling

Steve's burying his hot face in the cool of his pillow.

Is it the storm? Or it is only the first gusts of wind rising and the first raindrops falling from the sky?

[lavendertrash39]

Oh no, you've gotten into Freebird... Absolutely devastating, rest in peace your heart, give me your Neil Watt takes vis a vis bingo card immediately

HAHA YESSS Freebird the beloved. To The Moon series has had a death grip on me for uhhh... 5-6 years now??? Neil especially 😎 yes the beach episode did wreck me. And then I got KO'd again when I played it with my girlfriend a week later and tried not to give away any spoilers. Also beware if you haven't played beachisode bc there will be spoilers in this response!

But the Bingo!!! I'm about to go on a bit of a ramble don't mind me-- I think that since Neil has like... been one of my favorites for so long if you asked me at different points of time to fill out this bingo it would be completely different. But I think the MAIN two squares in this which are the ones I could say more about are "Canon isn't real if I don't look at it" and "I fuck with this aesthetic so hard"

So. For the canon one... so the thing is I do appreciate the Beach episode and it's ending, I think it says a lot about certain topics and it portrays the like... side of death that is really difficult to swallow so it's not typically portrayed in media. I accept this (and also EXTREMELY look forward to The Last Hour RPG. PLEASE.). But there is always going to be a place in my heart where they did get their garden. Which, honestly, whenever I say stuff like that, I know that's the whole point-- that it's not accepting the reality as it is, just like Eva-- but also... maaaan.

The other one is a lot more simple and less like an analysis-- and literally just the "aesthetic" is the type of character that he set me up to love for the rest of my life ig 😭 I permanently will love the "silly, sarcastic, kind of an asshole characters that have another, sadder side to them that they're hiding." While it is a trope that can be a bit. well. cheesy. I think it's also something that can be done really well, and I get attached to those characters very easily :]

SOoo yeah!! you got a LOOONG ramble from me oops-- but I hope you enjoyed my answer! Thanks for sending me the ask! I always love to talk about the to the moon series hehe

[dragonflylady77]

First Lines of 10 Fics Game

Rules: share the first lines of 10 of your most recent fanfics and then tag 10 people. If you have written fewer than 10 fics, don’t be shy and share anyways :)

I was tagged by the lovely @callieb this time around.

1. definitely better than being dead (on Ao3)

When Billy comes to, everything hurts. He keeps his eyes closed, even though the space around him feels dark, and slowly takes a tally of where it hurts: hands, sides, chest, back, feet too...

He listens to the noises in the room and the regular beeping of a machine close by tells him he’s in a hospital.

Huh.

This is new.

Neil never lets him go to the hospital, not unless he absolutely has to, like that time before they left Cali—no, not thinking about that.

2. Steve's pick (on Ao3) (Billy Hargrove Bingo)

“So you’ll do it?”

Steve sighed, wishing his shift would end already so he could go home and crash, instead of listening to whatever issue Dustin had had with Mike fucking Wheeler. Again. He looked at the clock. Half an hour to go. Wednesday afternoon shifts usually dragged but this one had to be the worst one ever.

“Steve? Are you even listening to me?”

“Yeah, yeah, Dustin, fine, whatever.” He rolled his eyes, never happier that the shop was currently deserted. He guessed that everyone was at the movies, catching the new releases. Lucky them.

“Steeeeeeeve!”

Henderson’s whiny voice pulled him back into the present.

“Oh my god, what? I’m at work, you know that right?”

“I am aware. But I also know there is no one there. It’s Wednesday, Steve. So will you tell Mike you agree we should let Max in the Party?”

Steve heard the bell chime when a customer walked in so he looked up and who the fuck was the sex god who’d just walked into Family Video?

3. finding peace together (on Ao3)

Then one day Steve shows up.

Because there's nothing keeping him in Hawkins anymore and he's had enough of the cold and the monsters and he always wanted to see the ocean.

And slowly Steve and Billy become friends. And Steve is absolute rubbish at surfing but it's okay because every time he falls off the board, it makes Billy laugh.

And Steve comes to realise that's his favourite sound. He can't wait to finish work every day and meet Billy at the beach. He lives to hear him cackle when he gets rolled by a wave.

4. a frankly ill-timed visit (on Ao3)

Steve stretches as he wakes up, arm reaching beside him to find the bed is cold. He knows it’s not very late by the way the sun doesn’t quite reach into the room yet. Billy always gets up so early, even when they’re up half the night making love to each other.

Steve yawns and stretches as he finishes waking up. His body is sore in that pleasurable way that says ‘I had a really good time last night’. He can smell the enticing aroma of fresh coffee and slowly realises that the noise he can hear coming from downstairs is actually voices.

Plural.

5. never fall for a straight guy (on Ao3)

Billy is browsing the movies in the Horror section at Family Video, trying to find something Max hasn’t seen yet, when he hears Harrington whisper from the counter.

“You deal with him.”

“Steve…” Buckley whines and Billy moves closer to the head of the aisle so he can hear better, while still pretending to be oblivious and looking at the titles.

“No, Rob. I can’t. Not after…” Harrington stops and Billy feels a pang in his chest.

6. Steve can't take it anymore (on Ao3)

"I've been waiting to meet this King Steve everyone has been telling me so much about."

There's blood on Billy's lip and Steve wants to wipe it off with his thumb.

"Get out"

He presses two fingers onto Billy's chest and gives a little shove. The skin is soft. And warm. So warm even though it's October and Billy's shirt is unbuttoned.

Billy stares, his tongue coming out to wipe his bottom lip, murder in his eyes.

Steve can't take it anymore. If the guy is gonna kill him, might as well give him a reason to. So Steve gives into the urge he's been fighting since he saw Billy in the carpark on that first day of school. Before he can second guess himself, he grabs both sides of the collar of Billy's shirt, pulls him close and plants his lips on the other guy's mouth.

7. wake me up (on Ao3)

"Billy?" Steve wipes the sleep from his eyes and tries to remember where he is. He feels really good but isn't sure why.

His boyfriend's muffled reply provides an answer.

8. we talked about this (on Ao3)

“Oh my god, pretty boy, just fucking do it already.”

Max freezes in her tracks in front of Billy's door, the juice in her cup sloshing from the sudden stop.

9. only the best (on Ao3)

"Munson!"

Steve looked up when he heard the familiar voice. Wasn't he supposed to be at work? "Billy?"

Sure enough, Billy was making his way through the trees to where Steve was sitting with Eddie Munson.

10. DELIGHTFUL (part of my Harringrove Micro Poems series on Ao3)

Daily loving casual touches getting bolder

Envying other couples who don’t need to hide

Languishing to be away from prying eyes

Wow.

I have more I'm working on , including fics for @billyhargrovebingo and the fic for the @harringrovezine and my @harringrovebigbang fic too!

Watch this space!!

no pressure tagging @discodeviant @spaceofentropy @thissortofsorcery @intothedysphoria @half-oz-eddie

[higgins5]

The sunshine court has finally been released and I am SCREAMING

The amount of joy and trauma this book has given me- we’re really living up to the aftg standards 😭

Spoilers under the cut (honestly if you haven’t read it it probably won’t make sense)

The fact Neil and Jean would have been menaces to society if they were stuck together

Paris

Andrew showing up for 2 seconds just to be a bitch in silence

Rainbows

The Jean being a little bitch is the reason they’re called the sunshine court and not because of their sunny disposition

NEEDING TO HAVE IT STATED CONTRACTUALLY TO PLAY NICE

“Blonde”

Cody…. Just Cody- I love them and if anything happens to them I’m killing everyone who has ever hurt them

Jean’s “is Cody safe”- god my HEART

Cat and Laila- enough said

JEREMY KNOX

“Would you look at me”

Neil casually taking a hit out on someone

I’m so intrigued by Neil and Jeans tentative friendship

Also??? Kevin and Jean interactions?! Yes

Lisinski

We got the beach scene- way more traumatic than planned… but we got our beach scene

The way Jean was concerned about the discovery of andreil by Ichiro and Neil just straight up goes bro doesn’t gaf, be your little bi self man, it might keep you alive longer

The floozies groupchat

The fact that the Trojans are literally just normal ass people and every word that comes out of Jean, Kevin, Neil, et al. Mouths makes them go 👁️👄👁️

The entire interaction with Neil and the FBI, honestly, he’s such a little shit- boy really thought he was a good enough actor in aftg

The fact Neil is actually fucking insane and I love that for him. At least Jean knows he isn’t well adjusted, Neil fooled us all

WYMACK

Kevin being who Kevin is and keep his depressed gay exy players alive through his promises he forces them to keep

The monsters fridge

(Yes I will be editing as I get hit by the memories of Jean coming back to himself in pieces like he had done a thousand times before-)

[sweetums0kitty]

Thanks for the tag bby!

Nickname: I got by many! Sav, Savvy, Nanna, Nanna Banana, Sweetums, Kitty, Fluffy. My grandma called me Martha Stewart when I got in trouble as a little kid for when she got caught insider trading and went to jail!

Sign: Virgo sun, Aquarius Moon and Aries rising. My Mars and Venus are in Leo and my Mercury is in Libra. I don’t know what it all means but I know it!

Height: 5’7 maybe 5’8 I dunno! But I was always tall!

Recently googled: When does Spotify wrapped come out and Disney Dorms for the 2022 program celebration. We’re all going to Animal Kingdom after hours! Night Safari time bitches!

Song stuck in my head: I am so salty about it but jingle bells! Make it stop!!! “Slams head on the desk.”

Number of followers: 989! Holy shit why are all of you here and why don’t you engage with me more? 😞🥺😢/j

Amount of sleep last night: Not enough! Somehow eight hours but I worked all day and went to the parks so I could have used more. Ima take a nap your girl has so much sleep debt!

Lucky number: 18! It’s my favorite number.

Dream job: I’d love to be an actress, but not like a Scarlet Johansson big ass movies marvel star kinda way. Like in the Paul Dano kinda way of being indie but known and just putting your whole dorky little heart and soul into making your art and enjoying it.

Wearing: A sailor moon shirt I got when visiting @malicious-code-103 one time! Blue Dumbo shorts that have a bunch of red speckled stains on then from when I spilled cherry dr. Pepper in my room and very dirty hair tie that’s checkered with a bow from Forever 21. Also sand on my feet from this fake beach I was at.

Books and movies that’s summarize me: Everything, Everywhere all at once fucking changed me on a cellular level. Joy’s struggles to be seen by her family and the whole kindness isn’t weakness philosophy are things that i hold very dear to my heart. People who don’t know me think I’m weak and innocent and fragile, it takes strength to choose to be kind when the world doesn’t want you to be. Also I’ve just always loved Dumbo and he’s my first comfort character!

Favorite songs: Minority by Green Day is a song I’ve loved since I was little, also Something that I want by Grace Porter! The musical six and Something Rotten! Swing music is such a fun genre and oldies! I will defend pop music till the day I die cause it can tell you so much about the era it came from!

Aesthetic: Usually I’m very cozy and like a T-shirts and shorts kinda person!, I also enjoy But I do love dressing up and being so pretty! I wore this out for a night and everyone was looking at me and one lady was looking at me with awe. I felt like a very pretty princess! My other outfit style is like a librarian! I love sweaters and wearing simple prints, I have some dresses and skirts that are really cute. But tend to go more goth or alt when feeling like I wanna be more andgro!

Favorite Author: I’m not original but I also have to say Finnie! But as for writing-writing it’s gotta be @rotten-whispers I like Edgar Allen Poe and Valerie Tripp for the American Girl books. Also… Who wrote the never ending story! Also Neil Gamian. (Should I tag him Hdhdhdhjdj)

Favorite animal noises: Lion’s roars are much much louder than I ever thought they would be and kinda scare me. But I love when my dog gets cozy and sighs out his nose like he’s a little old man about to settle down for a long winter’s nap!

Random: After the holidays Disney will take their giant ass gingerbread houses and give them to the animals in DAK and let the bees eat it as well!

Tagging! @malicious-code-103 @verytiredtrashcan @puzzlekinq @smellydano @little-silly-fucker @stellas-amethyst @trelaney @tomhiddlesmom @fallingpapersnow @butchpenguin @mietkoz

ah thank you for tagging me cassandra 💚 @jervis-tetch-my-beloved i started a new thread because i didn't want to annoy everyone lmao i'm so dumb

Nickname: finnie is my nickname! or i guess fin too! ms. crane if ya nasty

Sign: virgo

Height: i think 5ft 8"

Recently Googled: john candy (we watched p, t, & a 💜)

Song Stuck In My Head: b.o.t.a - eliza rose, i just really like the lil bee bee boop be de bee doo boop bit

Number of Followers: 577 eep i am baby

Amount of Sleep Last Night: i think in total like 7

Lucky Number: 248

Dream Job: i do not dream of labour i wanna write porn in the forest

Wearing: black overshirt, plain grey tee, mustard corduroy lucy and yak dungarees, and my black converse

Books/Movies That Summarize Me: painfully, and i mean this wholeheartedly and genuinely, the first chapter of history of a drowning boy was shockingly revealing, it takes so little for paths to diverge huh?

Favourite Songs: i literally cannot pick favourites of things i find it distressing but at the moment i think it's clean clean by the buggles or pressure by billy joel

Aesthetic: soft grunge in a primary school teacher kinda way, goth in a librarian kind of way, weird in a bisexual kinda way, definitely queer just from looking at me kinda way

Favourite Author: cassandra you typed finnie and it literally made my eyes water at my desk and i sincerely hope you did mean me and if not i'll die but also that's the nicest fuckin thing and i'm dying and march you too what the fuck ANYWAY probably uh shirley jackson, stephen king, adam marek, jeremy dyson, max brooks, richard matheson, peter vronsky ??

Favourite Animal Noises: when dogs do that old man grumble when you scratch them or they stretch, when my dogs specifically go "grrr" really low when they want my attention

Random: @riddlersbimbo sent me the most amazing holiday card and it is on my desk at work and i spend at least 10 minutes a day looking at it and smiling 💚

💚 Tagging (but they might already be tagged further down the chain i am scheduling this for later) 💚

@riddlemeri @riddlersbimbo @shigironki @pinkpanda1846 @s0ftmary @diaboligoat @worri-wort @paprikaspice @ihavenosoul12 @midnight0906 @that3nbytrash @pompous-puffed-up-penguin @letshaveadepressionparty @thebeautifulsoup @sweetums0kitty @luckyspade-8 @a-rose-as-sweet

[perpetuelledaydreaming]

Hey hey, can you write a story with billy x yn? I think about something like, yn is related to somebody of the kids and he and billy know each other since childhood. She is a loud girl and bratty. Billy puts her in her place very often but he is very patient with her. He protects her from everything and everyone. When they're drunk sometimes they have no control and make out. One day when they are at a party again she gets too naughty billy can't help it and shows her who's in charge. The next day she ignores him because she thought he only did it because of the alcohol. But then he confesses his feelings to her

so I changed some things because I just like puke this out in two days but I really hope that you enjoooy <3.

Nonsense | billy hargrove

billy hargrove masterlist

playlists: how hot you feel | how good billy feels.

words: 3.8k

summary: Honestly, it's not your fault that Billy's an ass and that you have to try to forget about a certain kiss. Not that Billy's going to let you go out of that bathroom without making it very clear that you're his.

warnings: raw smuttt, i think it's the dirtiest thing I've wrote for billy lol. 18+. unprotected sex (sorry didn't have it in me to add the condom move)

“What the fuck are you doing?” Billy growled at you as he slammed shut the door to the bathroom. His electric blue eyes narrowed, his nostrils flared up, and his breath harsh as you glared at him. 

To be fair, you’d warned Billy about letting loose that night. 

You’d been so exhausted from final exams that you really just wanted to throw it all away. You’d been locked up in your room studying for about a month, which you knew you had to do since you wanted to leave High School on a good note. Now, you were ready to move to California with Billy, your best friend. At least, that was what you considered him for a while, although he would probably deny that you were best friends since he acted like he couldn’t stand you. 

See, Billy and you had a complicated relationship. Billy had been in your life since you could remember, his mother and yours were actually best friends which meant that you’d had pictures with him together on the beach since you were one year old. His mother always told you that you were destined to fall in love but both of you always refused the notion; even to the point where you had promised the other that you’d never fall in love with the other. 

And yet, you broke it sometime around your thirteen birthday.

Billy grew resentful and angry when he grew up, which only got worse when his mother left. Thankfully, your father had become friends with Neil to the point that you weren’t cut off from Billy’s life, it also meant that your father wasn’t a great person. In those times, after Billy would appear with a black eye at school, you would chase him around trying to see if he needed the help but he would often yell at you when other boys and some girls surrounded him. You would fight him, calling him out on how he was treating you -one thing with you was that you would never go down quiet-, curse him out as he called you a brat and then run away. 

Just like you were doing right now. 

“Nobody asked you to ruin my chances of getting laid tonight!” you screamed at him, jabbing at his chest. For a moment you saw his expression falter, a look of hurt flashed across his features but then they returned to the same vexed expression. 

“Well, you were acting like a fucking slut,” he spat cruelly.

His words would always sting, no matter how used you were about them and no matter that you’d known that Billy didn’t mean them. You didn’t try to mind them though, but you did wonder how the hell did they still affect you after all those years. 

“Fuck you,” you challenged. 

Although the hurt only surfaced for a moment before you manage to conceal it again, you see how he immediately regrets it as you tried to move towards the door, reaching for you. 

He always reached for you, he was always there for you. 

After your fights, Billy would sneak into your room and he would curl up with you without your parents knowing on your bed. He would read to you and you would play with his curls until he felt safe enough to tell you what happen, sometimes he would cry and you would hold him. 

Then, after he left on those nights, you would never talk about it but there was clearly a shift in your relationship after the first night. 

And then Billy got into a fight with someone, which only validated your theories that something had changed

You admitted that some might consider you a brat but you couldn’t care less about what they thought. It was usually your way or the highway, you wondered if it was because of how you grew up in a household where you didn’t feel able to make your own choices or speak your mind because of your father but you decided to not follow that pattern outside of the jail, as you often referred to. 

Therefore, you weren’t quiet and you would get what you wanted, even if it was quite dangerous. Some asshole, who you flirted with at a party had been spreading the rumor about how you’d open your legs for him at a party, he’d called you a slut at lunch. You’d managed to get a good slap before he pushed you and you fell on the floor, all of the sudden, Billy had almost cracked the guy's nose with about two punches. The purplish and red bruises on his knuckles were the first thing you noticed as he helped you stand up from the floor. 

After that, Billy was always there. He’d still act annoyed about how loud, flirty and bratty you were and you would still call him out on why he would act like such a dick and be an asshole to everyone. Screaming at each other and putting the other in their place wasn’t new in your relationship, some people like Max would tell you that they didn’t understand why you would keep up with the other but he would be there to hold you when you were hurt and you would be there when he cried. 

“y/n,” he stated as he reached for your hand but you pulled it away. 

“You are an asshole,” you said, spinning around and jabbing a finger into his chest. “You think I cannot fuck whoever I want because you said so?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Billy seethed as he glared at you, towering over your frame.“Wait, are you seriously trying to fuck Patrick McKinney?” 

“Why do you care!?” you screamed, angry hot tears threatening to fall from your eyes as you glared at him. 

The truth was, you weren’t angry that Billy had pulled you out of the party and locked you in the bathroom. You weren’t angry that he had ruined any chances with Patrick. You were angry because he had done so, even after he’d faltered to say anything about your kiss a month prior.

After your mother passed away, your father opted for moving to Hawkins reasoning that raising a teenager your age was way too difficult in such a sin-filled state like California but the truth was that he couldn’t hold down a job and it was easier to go back to the place where he’d grown up, to his brother so he could get a job. 

You hated it, the most important thing that you hated was that you would leave Billy behind. But surprisingly, your father’s departure and fake reasoning moved something in Neil’s heart and he decided to help you move out to Hawkins, where you would be staying with your side of the family the Wheelers. Neil stayed for a week and a couple of days after he left you received an angry call from Billy, Neil had decided to move to Hawkins too. Move everyone to Hawkins. 

You felt guilty for a while, although Billy just stayed mad at you for approximately the moment he was told the news, and fifteen seconds after you welcomed him to the awfully small town with a big hug. Both of your arrival at Hawkins High had a ripple effect, your sun-kissed skin and attitudes made you guys instantly popular, not that you and Billy ever spent too much time dwelling on it, you just took its advantage. Which for you included being given flowers and multiple requests for dates all the time, while Billy focused on flirting and taking out girls. You couldn’t lie that it hurt you when a girl in your friend group would bring up that she and Billy had been dry-humping all night or that they finally had sex. It made you irrationally angry when it happened though, but you tried to forget about it. Instead, you focused on your conquests and dates, you only had sex with one other guy which was Steve Harrington, although you just ended up as friends. 

That’s what you’d been talking about last week, the fact that you hadn’t had sex with just Steve while you were at Hawkins. The wine that you’d stolen from your uncle's place made you dizzy as you lay on the floor of your bed while Billy smiled at you as he sat next to you. The insecurity and its weight on your words made Billy laugh as he repeated that you were perfectly good and not damaged, that it was better to have sex only with the people you truly cared about. You’d smiled and offered that if that was true, you would’ve slept together by now. 

It was an innocent comment, at least that’s what you thought. Billy didn’t see it like that though.

He leaned down before you could protest or realize, Billy had claimed your lips. He cupped your face in his hands and pressed his lips against yours, you didn’t move for a second thanks to the shock but then you immediately kissed him back, practically melting into him as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. His kisses were hot and feverishly, they were desperate as if he’d die if he didn’t continue to kiss you. You whimpered as you tangled your fingers into his hair, attempting to bring him closer. 

And then you heard your dad entering the house. 

Billy pulled away as you both snapped your heads towards the door, your father would kill you if he saw the wine or that you had Billy in your room while you were just on a flimsy shirt and some extremely short shorts. Billy got the cue and quickly hauled ass out of your room. After that, life seemed to get in the way but also Billy never brought it up, he never dared to stay anything and he continued to go out on dates.

You hated it. 

And so you’d decided to let loose that night and find someone, anyone, that could erase Billy from your thoughts. 

“You know I do!” Billy screamed as your back hit the door. 

“Sure, you do,” you snarled at him, pushing him on his chest but he didn’t really move. “You kissed me and then you went on to fuck Tina,”

“What?” Bully asked in a husky tone.“I thought,” but his voice died down. Billy’s anger faltered for a second time and you wanted to smile because he couldn’t keep up with being angry at you for too long, he was already breaking. 

Nonetheless, his features didn’t convey softness, he was confused. 

“You and your amazing brain didn’t figure I would be hurt?” you sneered while glaring at him. 

“You’re jealous?” Billy asked, moving closer to you, his breathing harsh and shallow as he glared at you, though it wasn’t his normal fire, it was a heated gaze of another sort. 

“You were too!” you snapped, stepping even closer to him defiantly. 

Both of you fell silent, breathings harsh and shallow as you glared at the other but all of a sudden Billy cupped your face with his hands again, you felt hot, your body prickling and goosebumps rising on your skin from the look Billy was giving you. 

Then his eyes flickered down to your lips.

“What are you?”

“Shut up,” Billy growled as he grabbed your waist, arms looping around your body and pushing you against him. 

That was all it took. 

Billy lurched forward as he pinned you to the door with his body, grabbing the back of your neck and kissing you hard. You reached up and draped your arms over his back, matching his fervent kisses as he shifted you with one arm, lifting you off the ground, perfectly settling his hips between your spread legs. 

You were angry at yourself for a moment as you whimpered softly as Billy’s tongue slipped past your lips, tangling with yours as the intensity of the kiss grew. It was not fair that you’d waited this long for him. The kiss was all fire, it was feverishly, it was longing, it was desperate. 

Your head spun suddenly as Billy grounded against you and your legs hooked around his waist to their own accord. You moaned loudly as you felt Billy’s bulge pushing persistently against you in those tight jeans, the friction feeling delicious against your clothed core. 

Billy smirked and you could feel it as he pressed harder against you, suddenly pulling back to kiss your neck. He ravage it, sucking and biting your skin as you tried to move your hips as best as you could to find release. It was wild, it was pure heat and fire as your back arched sharply as he hit just the right spot while you cling to him. You can feel exactly how hard he is and how desperate he grounds against you. 

“Come here,” Billy growled, pulling you from the door and settling you down in the sink before he quickly started to kiss his way down your body. 

His lips worked down your throat and then along your chest, leaving bite marks on the skin that he could find, marking you as his. You moaned softly as he caressed your breast with one hand that had managed to make its way under the shirt you’d chosen and you’d never been happier of going without a bra to a party. 

You leaned back on your palms as he reached your navel as your heartbeat rose in anticipation you glanced at Billy for a second while he looked up at you, his electric blue eyes tingling in anticipation as he fell to his knees as began to part your legs for him. A Cheshire cat smile grew instantly as his fingers run between your fold and you couldn’t back the whimper back. 

“You’ve always wanted so fucking bad, don’t you?” Billy’s voice is low as he watches you from your position and you couldn’t help but whimper as he presses two fingers into you without a warning. “Come on, baby girl,” he growls as he suddenly bites your inner thigh, making you scream. “I want to hear you say it, I want to hear you say that you're mine,”

“Please, Billy, I'm yours,” you practically cry out. It’s pathetic honestly, the way your voice isn’t too determined and harsh as it always is but now you just can whine and your pussy clenches around his fingers just by the way he chuckled. 

“You like that?” he asks while he raised an eyebrow. “You like to beg, don’t you?”

You cry out again when you feel his fingers curling inside of you. It sounds like music to his ears as he moves his fingers in and out of you in an enticing rhythm but you don’t want only his fingers inside of you, you want his mouth. Billy brushes the knuckle of his middle finger over your clit, just barely grazing it and you know he’s punishing you for not answering him.

“Please, please Billy,” you whimpered as you tried to move towards his face. 

“Atta’ girl,” 

Billy quickly moves his mouth between your legs, his fingers moving in and out of you, glistening from your excitement as he flickers his tongue on your clit. You whine, jutting his hips out toward him as he starts to suck your clit harshly which coaxed a desperate moan from your lips as you feel your orgasm coming. Your fingers raked through his golden curls, eyes closed as your head falls back into the mirror, moaning loudly as the knot on your stomach only got together. You’re pretty sure that your brain is short-circuiting the second that he replaces his fingers with his tongue, fucking you as soft gasps escape your lips. 

“Don’t stop, don't stop,” you whimper, failing to keep your voice down but honestly you don’t care if anyone hears you as Billy devours your pussy like a mad that has been starved. You clench your thighs around his head and you curse silently as you listen to a muffle goddamn, the vibrations of his voice sending you over the edge. 

Billy can’t even pretend that he isn’t pleased with himself by the way that he made you cum already and if this any other moment when you weren’t so desperate for him, you might’ve tried to wipe that cocky grin from his face but you don’t have it in yourself. Billy quickly brushes your hair off your face as he admires your comedown glow. 

“I’ve always wanted to see that,” he murmurs as he kisses your lips softly, you taste yourself in his tongue, and you whimper. “You are fucking gorgeous,”

Since you feel like your tongue and your brain aren’t connected by the way that he’d just made you come, you simply grab the back of his neck and kiss him hard, moaning softly, hoping that he can get the memo, hoping that the way that you just forcibly slipped your tongue pass his lips was a clear enough Billy, just fuck me. He takes the hint when you’re finally fumbling with his belt and then pushing fast on the waistbands of his jeans. Thankfully, his lips never leave your mouth. 

It’s almost a blur; you shove his pants down, freeing him from the confide of his jeans and boxers, before you take his aching cock and guide him between your legs, dragging his tip between your folds. Billy’s jaw clenches as he feels you, so wet, so perfect for him. 

“All for you,” you whisper, kissing him lazily and you almost gasp at the way he suddenly grasps your hips. There is no doubt in your mind that you’re going to have bruises tomorrow but you don’t find yourself caring as he pushed slowly into you. You both gasp softly, lips inches apart until Billy’s finally buried fully into you. He’s big, he might be bigger than what you’d anticipated but soon the sting dies down.  

Suddenly, your eyes meet. 

Everything stood still. As if the music had turned down outside as if the people had stopped talking as if time had stopped. His electric blue eyes stared at you in such a warm and perfectly wonderful way that you wondered when did his blue eyes turn into the same as the ocean in California. How either of you had seen it, had seen that you were perfect for the other, that you wanted him since you could remember. 

“Okay?” he whispered. 

“Yeah,” you mutter, nose brushing against his. 

“I love you,” he replied, not an inch of doubt in his voice but you don’t get to answer as he starts thrusting into you roughly.

You grab at his shoulder desperately as his cock drives deeper into you. Your eyes flutter shut as you moan against his earlobe and Billy’s sure he’ll be replaying that sound in his mind forever. He bucks his hips forward, feeling your walls clench at the sudden move while your nails bite into his shoulders. 

His face suddenly buried in the crook of your neck as he holds you in place while you squeak in pleasure and began to roll your hips to match his thrusts. It’s wild and frantic, and both of you are lost in the sensation of each other. Though Billy’s touching you tenderly, he isn’t just fucking you by the way he holds onto you. You, on the other hand, can only cling to him, fingers digging from his shoulder into his back as he finds a steady pace while your moans and soft breaths fill the room with his harsh grunts. 

But suddenly, he pulls out of you and you whimper softly at the loss of warmth and the empty feeling before Billy pulls you down and flips you over, your hands find the edge of the sink before your eyes meet you, in the mirror. Pinks cheek, doe-eyed, cock drunk for sure, clothes in disarray and then there was Billy, holding you in place. 

“Look, how fucking beautiful you are,” Billy grunts and you inhale sharply as he suddenly pushes into you without warning. Your knees half buckle and he has to slip his arm around your waist to keep you upright against him. 

It’s honestly dirty, the sight of Billy with his pants down, driving into you as wet noises fill the room and you can see your arousal dripping from your legs. Nonetheless, you can’t see it too much, your eyes shut tight when you feel Billy hitting that spot and he brushes his thumb over your nipple under the shirt. He’s rocking back and forth, roughly and you cry out his name. 

“Feels so good,” you whimpered as you open your eyes again and see his eyes raking over the reflected image before you. 

Before you know it, Billy’s hand snakes to your throat and pulls you back against him. Your back completely flushed against his chest as he continues to drive deeper and deeper into you as if it were possible while he leaves open-mouthed kisses in your throat. You suddenly, grab Billy’s hand and make him press softly on the side of your throat. Billy catches it quickly, immediately curling his hand around your throat and pressing as he fucks into you. 

It’s too much, your eyes roll to the back of your head, pleasure burning through you as you feel dizzy. You’re so close and Billy knows it, he feels how your pussy clench around his walls, he moves you again, tilting his hips and thrusting again. Hard. Perfect. 

And you scream, you scream so fucking hard that there’s no way that you can talk after that and that screams it’s what sends you over the edge. Fucking ecstasy. A rush of fire burns through your body while Billy continues to fuck you through your orgasms. 

“Good girl,” he grunts at the way that your walls are pulsing around him, milking him for every last drop of his. “y/n,” his breath burns into the side of your neck, your name perfect on his lips. 

“Fuck, you're mine” he pants, hips stuttering as he pushes deeper into you, as deep as he can, and spills inside of you. He holds you tightly as you continue to tremble from the force of your orgasms and you seem like you are aware of nothing but where you’re touching him. 

All you feel is Billy and all you want to feel is Billy. 

It takes a long time for both of you to stop shaking, for the room to stop spinning but soon, Billy’s pushing out of you and flipping you around, holding you tight against his chest for a moment. There’s nowhere in the world where you’d rather be but there, in his arms, in the arms of the boy you’d always love.  

“I love you,” he says again. 

***

author’s note: please, as always, let me know if you liked this, your thoughts, etc. request are always open and any feedback is super appreciated!

thANK YOU!!

***

feedback is always welcomed!!

donate: help me with my computer??

[paradoxolotl]

Wednesdaaaay!

~

When they had run, Mary had shaken him awake, hissing at him to move, to be faster, more quiet. It had frightened him, hands fumbling on his zipper, shaking as he tried to put on his shoes.

Andrew woke him with a hand smoothing the hair from his face, his name whispered quietly between them. Blinking up at him, Neil struggled to remove himself from his dream, latching onto Andrew like a lifeline.

“We have to go, Neil,” Andrew said. “Get up.”

Kicking out of his sheets, Neil staggered to his feet, watching Andrew pack clothes tightly into a bag. He accepted the bundle of fabric and shoes passed to him automatically, not quite believing what his reality had once again become.

“Andrew,” he implored, tugging his shirt over his head. Andrew tossed an extra set of sneakers into the bag, zipping it shut harshly. “Andrew, what’s happening?”

Grabbing his hand, Andrew dragged Neil out of the room, quickly checking both ways before pulling them down the hall. “Kengo isn’t pleased with Stuart. Says he’s disrespected him by harbouring you. He wants Stuart to send you back, to either live at the Nest or be disposed of like you were meant to be.” Ducking down a back stairway, footsteps quiet even with their shoes, Andrew glanced back at him, and Neil saw genuine fear there. “He threatened war with the Hatfords if his property and honour weren’t restored.”

It was only years of beaten in mantra that kept Neil’s feet moving, though his heart abandoned him somewhere far behind them. “He’s sending me back,” he rasped.

Andrew whirled on him, hands gripping Neil’s face, breath too fast. “No,” he swore. “He’s not fucking sending you anywhere, Abram. Okay? You are going to go to the bus station and buy a one way ticket to whatever is furthest. Get caught by the cameras, and then give your jacket to someone else. Then run. You keep running and don’t look back, you hear me?”

His hands flew up to grip Andrew’s wrists, eyes stinging. “Andrew-“

“You stay alive, Neil Josten,” Andrew said, firm and unforgiving. “You fucking survive and don’t come back. I won’t let them find you, but you can’t make my job more difficult, okay? I put cash in your bag, enough to get you by.”

It was goodbye, and he couldn’t have it, couldn’t not take what Andrew was giving him. Neil kissed him, desperate and almost wild, and Andrew sobbed against his mouth, pulling him closer. “Don’t make me go alone,” Neil pleaded when he pulled back. “I can’t do it again.”

“You can,” Andrew insisted. He pressed a phone to Neil’s palm, curling his fingers around it. “I’m the only person who knows this number. When it rings, fucking answer it. I’ll call you when it’s safe, and then I’ll come get you, wherever you are.”

“What if it’s not you?”

The smile Andrew gave him was self-depreciating and sorrowful. “They’d have to break me first, Neil.” He kissed him again, softer. “And the only thing that could do that is you.”

Neil would burn his mother again, bury her bones on the beach, if it meant never knowing this pain. But Andrew tugged him further from the house, into the night, and Neil knew knowing him for even a moment was worth every second of misery to come.

“Come with me,” Neil begged.

Andrew pulled him into a fierce hug, burying his face into Neil’s neck. “I need to make it safe for you. I won’t let you run forever. I promise.”

There were a million words Neil needed to say, but Andrew shoved him away, deeper into the dark.

“Go,” he said.

Neil took a few backwards steps, gripping the strap of his duffle tightly. Andrew was lit by a strip of moonlight, hair almost silver to match the streaks on his cheeks.

“Thank you, Drew,” Neil said. And because he might never again have the chance, “I love you.”

Andrew’s fingers flew up to press against his own pulse. He swallowed, and Neil knew the words stuck in his throat. Finally, Andrew lowered his hand, a cloud plunging them into pitch black.

“Run away for me, Rabbit.”

Turning on his heel, Neil did just that.