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famwhy · 11 months

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Right Way Up (02)

Stranger Things

Yandere! Steve Harrington X F!Reader, Yandere! Eddie Munson X F!Reader, Yandere! Billy Hargrove X F!Reader

Synopsis: You always hated when your favourite characters died in shows or movies; always longed to have the opportunity to save them. So when you're transported into one of your favourite shows of all time, what else are you supposed to do besides save your beloved characters?

Warnings: Threat/violence, Gore, Mentions of sexual content (implicit), Death, Manipulation, Depictions of toxic relationships, Drugs and alcohol abuse

Note: Sorry for the wait, my loves, but here's Eddie, Steve, and Billy to make it up to you 💕

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02. bring unto me vanity

enter: billy hargrove

YOU stood there, expression blank as you stared mindlessly into the Eddie Munson. It almost felt as though all your thoughts had left you the moment you bumped into him—flooding out in an endless, blank stream of nothingness you couldn't even begin to comprehend.

Then—not even seconds later—it all came rushing back.

Scenes of him lying in a pool of his own crimson, straining as he told Dustin about how he didn't run away—how he wasn't a coward for once. Scenes of the town believing he was some sort of satanic worshipper—vandalising his missing posters with pentagrams after he had just died protecting them. Scenes of Dustin informing Eddie's uncle of his noble death with tears streaming down his face; unrelenting in their cruel pace.

Scenes that always shot straight through your heart no matter how many times you rewatched them.

"Woah, hey, are you o—?"

You couldn't help it—the way you flew into his chest, arms wrapping around his back in a hug so tight—so inextricably emotional—that even the most affectionate of lovers, the most intimate of partners, would envy your outpour of emotions in that one embrace.

You couldn't help it because—because he was here. And he was okay. And he was alive—oh god, he was alive.

"Wha—?"

And apparently, he was also confused.

Get it together, Y/N. What kind of weirdo randomly throws themselves onto a stranger like that?

But he wasn't a stranger though, he was a character you had watched and grown attached to on screen; a beloved character you had witnessed die over and over again without being able to do a single thing about it.

But, a small voice prodded in the back of your mind, maybe you could do something now?

"Are you... okay?"

You blinked, further scattering a wet substance across your eyelashes. "Oh, yeah, um... it's just that—"

You didn't deserve to die, Eddie.

"—well, everyone is always so mean to you and— they're always like, calling you a freak just because you like playing a fantasy, role-playing game and it's just— it's so unfair because you seem like such a nice guy who doesn't deserve any of the shit that you get and I'm just— I'm so sorry!"

Ah, maybe you let out a little too much there, judging by the way he reacted.

His mouth had hung open, brown eyes wide in what you could only describe as disbelief, bewilderment and utter, utter shock.

For a moment, you were worried that you had accidentally made him malfunction or something; maybe said some type of dialogue that he couldn't compute and, therefore, couldn't respond to—like some sort of unaware NPC being told that they weren't real—which, in a way, is quite similar to his actual circumstance anyhow.

But then, to your utter surprise, he spoke again; in a tone that seemed light, almost—playful, even—"woah, uh, you always psychoanalyse people when you first meet?"—but... there was a waver in his voice, a vulnerability breaking through.

And you knew; you knew he was trying so hard not to let it break through.

Oh Eddie...

"No, sorry, uh—" you cut yourself off, pulling away to rest your arms against your sides, to really look him in the eyes as you offered, "—do you want to be friends?"

"Woah, hold up, Y/N L/N, the Y/N L/N—the Queen of Hawkins High herself—"

Queen of Hawkins High? You knew you were popular but—Queen? Damn.

"—is asking me, Eddie 'The Freak' Munson, if I want to be her friend?"

His words ushered the corners of your lips down and you felt that familiar constricting feeling in your heart again. "Don't call yourself a freak, Eddie. You're not. Please don't ever refer to yourself that way."

Cue the look of absolute astonishment making its way back onto his face.

"I uh—"

"Please, Eddie." Your fingers intertwined, eyes widening in what you hoped—prayed—was a look that resembled irresistible puppy dog eyes—

"Well, how the hell am I meant to deny you when you give me that look, sweetheart?"

—and resemble them it did.

"So, does that mean—?"

He smirked. "Yes, Queenie, I'll be your friend."

The voice at the back of your mind was louder now, hope swirling together with mere hypothetical scenarios to grant you a vision—a world in which Eddie survived the bat attack he was subjected to in season 4; a world in which you saved him.

And hey, if you were lucky, maybe you'd be able to protect him from all the awful bullying he was a victim of as well. Lord knew he didn't deserve it.

"So, would you mind me sitting in on one of your DnD campaigns?"

He blinked, looking confused for what was probably the nth time. "You know what DnD is?"

"Oh, uh, yeah. I, uh, know someone who plays it. I mentioned it just now, remember? Definitely not a game that encourages satanism."

A bubble of laughter left his lips—and you swore you felt a swirl of warmth gather in your chest—his pretty eyes crinkling up as he said, "yeah, it definitely isn't." Then, his hand rose up to the back of his neck before he continued, albeit awkwardly, "I uh, actually have one today after school, if you wanna..?"

He trailed off but you knew what he was about to ask—and so—smiled at him as you confirmed, "I would love to."

"Great!" He beamed—rather cutely, if you did say so yourself—before immediately faltering, and soon, his hand was back on his neck. "We should probably head to English, huh?"

So you shared your next lesson together? Sweet. Saved you the hassle of running around like a headless chicken trying to find your class.

You let Eddie lead the way, following behind him with a pep in your step as you passed by doors upon doors, each looking just as beat-up as the last—but you were too over-the-moon to criticise their condition.

Perhaps the reason you were so happy was because you genuinely befriended a super nice, super fun guy that you always wanted to talk to when watching the show. Perhaps it was because you knew you had a shot at saving him; at giving him another chance to live in this fictional world. Either way, your mood had definitely lifted and for that, you were grateful—

"Munson, L/N, you two are late."

—until, of course, you weren't.

Having arrived at class, you were met with a chorus of gasps sent your way, almost every single jaw dropping to the floor as soon as their eyes landed on you and your companion.

The lady in front of you had her arms crossed over her busty chest, eyes narrowed specifically at one of the two of you and said person seemed to be very aware of it.

Eddie parted his lips, a grin manifesting on his face as he seemed to gear himself up for some sort of speech; one that would never get to leave his lips—at least, not on your watch.

"Sorry, miss, I held him up a little." Your lips stretched into a sheepish smile as you shrugged.

Not bothering to hear what she had to say—because why would you?—you made your way over to one of the empty seats at the back. There was another one in the middle of the room—one surrounded by broad-shouldered kids all adorning the same, bright varsity jackets—but, you would much rather be taking the seat away from them.

Besides, the back seat had an empty one right next to it.

As soon as your thighs landed on the smooth—yet highly uncomfortable—surface of the wooden chair, you tilted your head up, eyes meeting with the sweet character you were just walking with, before one of your hands rose up and gestured towards the other empty seat right next to you.

Another gawk. Another chorus of dramatic gasps.

Oh my God, it's not that big a deal.

"Well, Mister Munson? Will you be taking your seat or will you keep holding the whole class up?"

Snickers; mocking and malevolent in their nature—all bouncing off the walls of the room and into your ears, edging your lips down.

It didn't seem to bother Eddie though, who only let out his own sheepish chuckle before making his way down the row of beaten desks to the empty one beside you.

Your lips twitched back up, then he opened his mouth—"you weren't kidding about wanting to be my friend, huh?"—and you found them twitching down once again.

"Of course not, Eddie. I'm not that—"

A new voice abruptly cut you off. "Ahem. Now where was I?"

You couldn't speak for the remainder of the class, but that didn't stop you from communicating with Eddie regardless. All you had to do was rip out a page from your notepad, write a quick 'I meant what I said', scrunch it up and throw it his way.

You had then propped your head up on your hand, elbow resting on the bumpy table as you leaned forward to really gauge his reaction. The goofy way his lips had tugged up was very much infectious and you smiled as he furiously scribbled back a response before sneaking a quick glance at you—one that resulted in him freezing up, eyes widening and pink rushing to his cheeks in a way that was so cute, you couldn't help but widen your smile.

His blush grew deeper.

He was quick to pull himself back together though, and soon, the rest of the lesson was filled with the two of you tossing that same, crinkled sheet of paper back and forth—each time filling it with more and more ink as small giggles bubbled out of your mouths; childish and carefree with a hint of awe. You felt like a middle schooler all over again—it was nice, it was fun—

—so fun, in fact, that time passed by like a flash of lightning and, before you even knew it, a 'brrring!' rang through the air; one that had you rushing over to Eddie's side, ready to accompany him out the door. Were you being a little clingy? Maybe. But it was the Eddie Munson, who wouldn't be clingy?

"Oh wow, being waited on by a queen, boy do I feel special," his words were accompanied by a light tone you'd heard many a time over the TV, one you absolutely adored.

"You should feel special. You're awesome, Eddie. I'll stop at nothing until you realise that."

He paused again, that pink colour from earlier returning to reign terror on his cheeks once more.

What a cutie.

You watched as he continued packing the remainder of his stuff in his bag, eyes trained on the glint of his solid-metal rings that would disappear and reappear from behind the rough cotton. Damn, how did they make him look so much more attractive?

Eddie was really attractive, you had no idea how no one in the school seemed to notice. The way his bouncy, brown curls framed his face—perfectly complimenting that pretty pair of eyes he was so lucky to have; the way he would exaggerate his hand gestures like a true drama queen—playfully joking about with a charm that seemed signature to him; the way he always seemed to—

"Uh, ready to go?"

You blinked. "Huh? Oh yeah."

How long had he been standing there with his bag slung over his shoulder?

"So, sweetheart, I was thinking... for DnD later, do you wanna join in or, uh, just sit and watch?"

"Oh, well, I'm not too—"

A pang; shot straight through your arm like a bullet—and all of a sudden, your whole body jerked to the side, eyes landing on a pair of brown ones; different to the ones you were just staring into.

The very pair of brown eyes that had been the first ones to greet you in this world.

"Ack! Steve!"

He was frowning, brows furrowed and eyes filled with so much dejection, you found yourself wanting to do nothing more than wrap him up in a loving hug and tell him he was worth the whole world.

"N/N," his voice came out soft, afraid, "what was that earlier? Did I... do something? Whatever it was, I'm sorry, please don't avoid me."

Dear lord, was he whimpering?

"No! Steve! No, no, no, no," you frantically shook your head from side-to-side, mentally beating yourself up for making him upset, "I just— I overreacted because of my arm."

One more cute, inquisitive stare from him and you finally broke. Damn his puppy dog eyes, was this how Eddie felt when you used them on him?

With a light sigh, your fingers found their way down the sleeve of your jacket, slowly bunching the material up to reveal the graying gauze underneath—yikes, looked like it was due for a change.

"Gah!"

Another tug—on your wrist this time—had you tumbling forward, almost smacking straight into Steve's chest had you not planted your feet and caught yourself in time.

He was so close—you could feel his breath on the bare skin of your arm, feel the warmth that radiated off his form. The proximity was almost causing you to lose focus in your vision, colours blending in to create blobs of indecipherable objects.

It didn't seem to bother him though, judging by the way his eyes stayed trained onto your bandages—not straying from them for even a second. Ever the caring one.

"What happened?"

"Oh, uh, just a wolf attack. It's nothing really."

"It's not nothing—" he finally looked up, gazing straight into your eyes with that familiar sense of concern given to you at the start of the day, and the day you arrived—you know? the one that never failed to give you a plethora of butterflies in your stomach? "—you're hurt. That could never be nothing."

Your breath was stolen from you for a few moments—unfairly and unlawfully—but soon, with a shake of your head, it (along with your vision) was seized once more. "Steve. I'm okay, really."

"At least let me take you to each class, please."

Well, when he put it like that—

But, in all seriousness, this was the perfect temporary solution to your problem and you were being handed it on a silver platter thanks to Steve. If you two really were as close as everyone claimed you to be, then Steve would definitely have your timetable memorised, meaning you wouldn't have to arise further suspicion by asking for a physical copy.

And have it memorised, he did. The rest of the day, he accompanied you to every class, looming behind you like a bodyguard and flat-out refusing to let you carry your stuff. Even when lunch came around and another pair of pompoms came to grab you, Steve was there to shut her down, not even giving you a chance to consider going to practice. Not that you would—you weren't stupid.

Soon, the end of the day rolled around and Steve was stood at the doorframe of your class, muscled arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the wood with one foot crossed over the other.

"Let me drive you home."

You paused, hand frozen mid-air with a book slotted between your fingers. "It's okay, Cain's picking me—"

Just then, a thought occurred to you, and your mind dragged you back to your conversation in the early morning.

("I uh, actually have one today after school, if you wanna..?")

"—up..."

Oh shit, Eddie.

The book in your hand was inside your bag within milliseconds and you were right out the door in even less time than that, Steve's body having been slightly pushed aside in your haste.

"Woah, what's going—?"

You turned back around abruptly, almost causing him to bump into you had he not halted in time. "Do you know where Hellfire is?"

"Hellfire? That cult club?"

Your eye twitched. "It's not a cult—and I need to speak to Eddie."

His brows furrowed and his lips tugged down, expression shifting with an emotion you didn't have the time to decipher. "Eddie as in Eddie Munson? Super Senior Eddie Munson? Eddie 'The Freak' Munson?"

"He's not a freak, don't call him that." You narrowed your eyes before continuing, "and yeah, I mean Eddie Munson. So do you know where he is?"

"Why do you wanna know where Munson is?"

"I need to talk to him, Steve, now can you tell me where Hellfire is or not?"

"Are you sure? I mean, that kid sells some real serious shit and I don't want you—"

"Steve." Your arms folded over one another and you gave him the best stern look you could muster.

Luckily, it seemed to do the trick, and soon, he let out a large breath before briskly walking forward.

You blinked, watching as his back shrank with each step.

"You coming or what?"

Then, your lips stretched into a grin. "Coming! Thanks, Stevie!"

He didn't respond—and you could have been imagining it—but, your ears seemed to have picked up on a hitch in his throat.

Cute.

Steve led the way and you passed by a multitude of bland, white lockers—or well, meant to be white, they were obviously going grey with age though—before you found yourself standing in front of yet another tall, wooden door.

You rose a fist... and lightly knocked on it three times.

A muffled shout greeted you; a sign to open the door, probably.

Palm rested against the cold surface of the knob, you twisted your wrist and gently pushed against the weight of the wood.

A multitude of chairs, each one seating a wide-eyed member of the rejected club, with one specific throne placed at the head of a rather long table—Eddie's seat.

Speaking of the club leader, his arms stretched out the moment you peeked through the gap. "Miss Queen Bee! How nice of you to join us!"

You didn't even pay mind to the many gawks sent your way, practically used to it all by now.

"Hey Eddie!" You beamed and he smiled with just as much enthusiasm—though you swore you heard a growl coming from behind you. "I'm so sorry! I know I said I'd join you guys for this campaign but I completely forgot about my brother coming to pick me up! I'm so so so so sorry! I promise I'll join you next time!"

His shoulders sagged and he practically deflated, smile faltering as his eyes dimmed in lighting. It was only for a few seconds though, not even that long honestly, and soon, he was sending a gentle smile full of so much understanding your way—you almost flew over to give him another huge hug of utmost gratitude.

"It's okay, I get it. See you tomorrow?" His brows rose up and his eyes swirled with a sense of hopefulness you could never bring yourself to shut down.

"Of course," you spoke softer, eyes losing any hint of a sharp edge as you addressed him, "see you tomorrow!"

His smile was back, bright and blinding as ever—but before you could enjoy it any longer, your arm was tugged on and another pang shot through.

"Ack! Steve, seriously?!" You looked his way just in time to catch his furrowed brows and heavy frown, but his expression quickly shifted from one of fury to one of panic.

Wait... fury?

"Shit. Sorry, I completely forgot." He quickly took his hand off your arm in lieu of placing it on your shoulder, any hints of that previous expression now completely gone.

Did you just... imagine it?

"We should go, your brother's probably waiting for you."

"Yeah, uh—" you placed your hand over his own, brows furrowed and expression not all there, "—let's go."

Well that was confusing.

It wasn't long after your puzzling interaction that you found the grey, beat-down truck belonging to your eldest brother—parked up near the front of the school building with few vehicles nearby.

He was sat behind the wheel, elbow rested against the open window and used cig between his two fingers—still leaking the toxic gas youth in the 80s seemed to be so obsessed with.

"I'm guessing you wanna take her to school again, huh Harrington?"

Not wasting a second, your best friend nodded.

"Well, you never failed me before so I guess it's fine. If she's okay with it, of course."

Steve, once again, gave you those big, pleading eyes and—c'mon—how the hell do you refuse that?

"'Course it's fine with me, Stevie."

His lips quirked up and his eyes brightened much like Eddie's had earlier—though, unlike Eddie, Steve opted to go farther when expressing his delight.

How far? Well, his arms had wrapped themselves around your waist and you found yourself being pulled into a warm, sturdy chest—so, that far, you guessed.

You weren't quite... used to receiving affection so frequently—especially by a male friend. Though, judging by how naturally it seemed to come to Steve, he was normally quite touchy with you.

Now, you didn't particularly mind it, it was just... foreign to you—but, with time, you would definitely grow used to it. Besides, it was Steve 'The Hair' Harrington, who wouldn't want a daily hug from him?

"Alright, you two, break it up." Cain narrowed his eyes. "Don't think I don't see those wandering hands, Harrington. Don't you have a girlfriend?"

A particularly loud noise—that sounded like someone clearing their throat—came from beside you. It was followed by a sudden breeze against your waist and the following words—"they, uh, they weren't wandering."

"Sure." Then, with a flick of a finger, Cain's cigarette was sent flying through the air. "C'mon sis, time to go home."

"They weren't wandering, N/N—"

"I know they weren't, Stevie." You chuckled. "He was just teasing you."

You didn't let him respond—opting, instead, to ghost your fingers over his arm and wiggle them in one last goodbye before making your way around the truck, kicking a pebble or two while you were at it.

Your hand slotted between the handle and the knob, and with a pull—accompanied by a step up—you were off, leaving the dazed form of Harrington in the dust.

Houses, one after the other—zooming by in a blur of colours; of people and cars that still seemed so surreal to you. Being in the 80s was so... weird. There was one thing you hated for sure though—the lack of mobile phones.

Like, seriously?! What did a girl have to do in order to get some entertainment around here?! The TV shows weren't good and the VFX in films was enough to make you empty your stomach contents in a gross assortment of sickly green vomit. Maybe you were being spoiled but damn, living without the Internet to entertain you sucked.

"We've got new neighbours," Cain's voice pierced through your thoughts, "just moved in a bit ago."

New neighbours? Could it be...?

"When'd they move in?"

"A day or two ago." He shrugged.

"How did I not notice?" That question was more for yourself than him.

"We didn't particularly let you." But he answered anyway.

"Right. Did you see who they were?"

"They have a son, 'bout your age. Why? Do you wanna hook up with him or something?"

You slowly turned his way, expression scrunching up. "No, ew, you're gross."

"What? You're a teenager, it's only natural."

"True—but also, dude!"

His shoulders bounced up and down as he chuckled at your misery. Big brothers sure sucked sometimes.

"Alright, we're home. Get out, shithead."

You playfully rolled your eyes but obliged, jumping out of the elevated truck with a big swing of your arms before landing on the ground—a light 'thud' following after. Thank god you were on the sidewalk and not sinking into mud right now.

Well, now was as good a time as ever to test your little theory of who, exactly, had moved in to the previously-empty house next to yours.

Your eyes flickered to the side, scanning the house and frowning at the empty driveway that greeted you.

No blue camaro.

Maybe he was out on a drive? Cooling off some steam by recklessly going over the speed limit?

"What are you doing standing around? Get."

Guess it'd have to wait until tomorrow.

You twisted open the door to your house and were immediately greeted with the sound of grunts and plastic harshly smacking against plastic coming straight from the opening closest to you.

"What d'you wanna eat?" Cain's voice calls from behind you.

"You can cook?"

He sent you a weird look and you found yourself wanting to rip off a piece of duck tape, coat it in the most sticky glue you could find, and slap it bang in the middle of your lips.

"I've always cooked for the three of us."

"Right. Yes. You have always done that. Silly me." With a tiny giggle, you looked off to the side to eye the suddenly-very-interesting wall.

"Oookay, what do you want then?"

What did you want? You weren't particularly in the mood for anything—your mind was way too occupied for choices right now. How could you worry about food when your brain constantly replayed the events of the demodog attack and scenes that happened in Stranger Things as a whole?

"Alright—" you blinked, tossing your gaze forward again to see Cain heading to the kitchen, raising one rough arm to wave dismissively in your direction, "—I'll just make lasagne."

Then, you jumped as you heard a yell from the other room. "Fine by me!"

Maybe you could ask Curt if he had anymore info on the family next door. You were fairly certain it was who you thought it was but better safe than sorry, huh?

"Currtt."

You appeared from behind a pillar, slowly walking over to your second eldest brother with the most artificial smile you'd ever worn on your face.

"What?" His fist continued colliding with the bag.

"Do you know anything about our new neighbours?"

"Why the hell would I give a damn?"

Immediately, your smile fell. "Useless."

"What was that, you little shit?"

So much for getting info from him.

Well, you had time to spare so you might as well spend it gathering your thoughts some more.

First things first, you had no idea how to get back to your world—and to be entirely honest—you weren't sure if that was your top priority as much as surviving was. This was Stranger Things, a world that contained a hidden dimension filled to the brim with bloodthirsty, plant monsters that could, quite literally, rip you limb from limb.

There was also one glaring question that really stood out to you; one that prodded the back of your mind earlier today; that had you leaping into Eddie's arms in the first place. Could—

"Alright, shitbirds, dinner's ready!"

"Fucking finally."

Well, guess you had to wait for some other time to contemplate that question.

All three of you gathered at the table to eat and, as your fork prodded against the pasta sheets on your plate, you found yourself eyeing the two extra seats—empty and unoccupied. Were they for guests? Or perhaps... your parents?

Did you even have parents in this world? Curt and Cain never spoke about it—you never really saw anyone in the house other than them so... were you parent-less? It made sense seeing as Cain was the one who cooked for you three—a fact you weren't privy to before because of... wait, why didn't he cook before? You had been in this world for a few days now and you hadn't been cooked a single meal since arriving.

"Hey, Cain?" You turned to the eldest, keen on finding an answer to your question.

"Hm?"

"How come you never cooked before?"

"I have cooked before, what are you talking about?" He rose a brow.

Shit. Careful with phrasing.

"I meant like, when I was on house-arrest."

"Well, I don't know if you noticed but I was busy fixing a car commissioned to me by the Wheelers."

Ah, that made much more sense.

"Are you okay, Y/N? You haven't been acting yourself lately."

Well shit.

Before you could stutter out a response, he had already beat you to talking.

"Is it... 'cause of the attack?"

"Oh!" You saw the opportunity given to you and seized it. "Uh, yeah! I'm just... still shaken up by that wolf attack."

His lips tugged down and concern creased his brow, sending your heart into that constricting feeling for the nth time. You were starting to grow sick of it.

"You know what? I think I'm done."

"You barely touched your—"

"It was great, thanks, goodnight!"

"It's not even—"

You tuned out the rest of what he was trying to say, rushing up the stairs with loud 'thud's echoing after each step; hand barely resting on the rail as you zoomed by.

Did you have a valid reason for running away this time? Not really—at least, nothing as justified as when you ran from Steve before. Your only reason right now was... well, you didn't even know what it was.

All you knew was that your bed looked mighty comfy right now.

And comfy it was, you passed out as soon as you hit the mattress in fact, entering the land of slumber with nothing but the vast expanse of darkness to greet you when you arrived.

It seemed like only seconds passed before you felt your shoulders start to shake gently, long fingers wrapped around the exposed curves; long fingers you were now quite familiar with.

You eyes fluttered open and you were met with the soft, brown eyes of your best friend hovering over you.

"Steve? What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to pick you up, Nance is waiting in the car."

His words brought your attention to behind him, seeing the shine of the sun's rays making its way through the clear glass of your window to light up your room and coat it in a warm, yellow glow. Unfortunately, you couldn't bask in the beauty of the scene for long.

"Oh shit! It's morning?!"

"Yeah—did you... sleep in your cheerleading outfit?"

"Yes, yes I did, Steve. Now get out so I can get ready!" You sprang up, placing both of your hands on his shoulders this time before you spun him around and pressed your palms against his back, lightly ushering him out of the room.

"You already look ready to me." He snickered.

"Oh shut up."

With that, you slammed the door shut in his face and quickly got to fixing your bedhead.

Luckily, you didn't have to change, but you definitely had to reapply your makeup which took quite a few minutes. That plus the time it took for you to refresh yourself in the toilet and you were looking at just narrowly avoiding being late to school.

Your feet carried you down the steps swiftly as your eyes locked in on the door, passing by a very flabbergasted Cain on your way there.

"Wait, you forgot to—!"

His words were cut off once you slammed the door shut, rushing down the front yard to stumble into the back seat of Steve's BMW, where both he and Nancy sat awaiting your arrival.

Your chest heaved up and down. "What are you waiting for?! Go!"

"We aren't late." Nancy replied, raising a brow at you.

"We... aren't?" You paused to catch your breath.

"No, we aren't."

You slowly turned your gaze to the left, meeting the ridiculous facial expression of your best friend; cheeks sucked in and eyes looking off to the side.

"Steve."

Then, a huge bout of laughter tumbled out of his mouth and you found your eyes scanning the interior of his car before landing on a half-full water bottle. Perfect.

Within seconds, you snatched it up and sent it hurdling towards the back of his head.

"Ow!"

"Not funny, asshole!"

"Liiittle funny."

"Just drive, Steve," sighed Nancy, fingers kneading through her temples.

"Thank you, Nancy," you huffed, "at least someone here isn't a dick."

Cue another snicker coming from the driver's seat.

You rolled your eyes as the car started up, bouncing you up and down against the smooth, leather seats. It was kinda bizarre how this was a car from back in the 80s but was still the most expensive car you had ever found yourself sitting in.

Okay, maybe the 80s didn't suck that much.

You still missed your phone though.

Now, you would've happily continued reminiscing all of your memories with your beloved device, but—just then—your ears picked up on a sound; one you were awfully familiar with, the roar of an engine you couldn't bring yourself to ignore even if you wanted to.

Your hand moved on its own, wrapping itself around the handle of the door before pushing it open as you placed one foot out, your other following straight after. Now leaning on top of the door of Steve's car, you gazed straight forward.

Metallic blue; shiny and glinting in the sun's rays. At the bottom, a yellow number plate stared you right in the eyes: PCE 235.

The left door clicked open and out came black boots paired with light blue jeans. Adorning them was a guy rocking a denim-on-denim look—blonde mullet rested comfortably on his head and striking, electric blue eyes scanning the parking lot with little emotion swirling inside.

Then, he made eye-contact with you, holding it for one, two, three seconds before breaking away, flicking his cigarette, and sauntering off in a way that exuded pure confidence.

There was no doubt about it, that guy was Billy Hargrove. And if he was Billy Hargrove, then that meant—

—the events of Season 2 had officially started.

@bdudette, @tanyaherondale, @killerqueenfan, @l3xiluve, @thedoubleexposurephotography, @xxqueenofdemonsxx, @briarsheart

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weird-an · 1 year

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It's the first pride Steve ever goes to. It's 1986, he's in San Francisco, far away from Hawkins and its horrors, walking along the street with Robin.

She grins and Steve can see it in her eyes, a new sense of belonging, a relief, a we're not alone, shining brighter than the sun. Behind them someone yells the theme: "Forward Together, No Turning Back".

He feels like there is a wound in his soul and now it's like the words pull the splinter out. He never wants to go back to Indiana again.

He turns around the corner, following the masses and he gets so distracted by all the shirtless guys, he nearly bumps into the one in front of him.

"Sorry," Steve says, his mouth hanging open when he comes face to face with Billy Hargrove. Who died at Starcourt a year ago.

Billy who blinks at him, blue eyes full of life and now- confusion. He's still rocks his mullet, only now he's wearing a pink scrunchie. He isn't wearing a shirt. There is a big scar just below his sternum, thin lines stretching from it towards his shoulders and abs like an exploding star. There is glitter on them, sparkling in colors of the rainbow.

Robin's elbow hits his side. Steve is staring, but he can't look away.

"Eyes up here, Harrington." Billy snaps his fingers in front of Steve's face. "What are you doing here?" he says accusatory like he isn't the one thought dead.

"Because I belong here," Steve snaps. It has taken so much time and nearly dying at the claws of Demodogs and the teeth of bats to break down the barriers of what he thought he had to do and what he wanted to. No fucking way he's going to let Billy say anything against that.

Billy stares at him, scars glittering in the sun.

"Same," he mumbles. Steve's pulse stutters for a few seconds.

Billy then grins boyishly at Steve, reminding him of the Billy who rubbed against him at practice and always stole his soap in the showers, the one he rarely got to see and never did against after the sad excuse for a fight at the Byers' house.

"Steve Harrington! As I live and breathe." Billy laughs and slings his arm around Steve's shoulder. "A fucking queer like me."

"Yeah," Robin interrupts. "How are you still breathing, Hargrove?"

Billy rubs his chest, one arm still around Steve. A bit of glitter stays on his fingers.

"No fucking idea," he says. "I just know I wanna get wasted tonight."

Robin opens her mouth to possibly ask a million questions, but Steve's mouth is faster. Even though he didn't plan on saying anything.

"Can I buy you a drink then?" he blurts out.

Billy nearly trips. Steve laughs into his ear. He made Billy Hargrove stumble. By asking him out. This is the best day of his life.

"Fucking unbelievable." Robin rolls her eyes.

There is a shade of pink on Billy's nose and it's not from the sun. "I promised Heather I'd at least make it to-"

"Heather?" Robin's face lightens. "Holloway? Is she alive, too?"

"You bet your ass, Buckley," a voice behind them says. "Let's ditch these idiots after the parade."

Heather winks at Billy, a similar pink scrunchie in her hair and popping a bubble gum with the same color.

"Bitch," Billy says without malice.

"But your best one." Heather blows him a kiss and grabs Robin's arm.

Billy grins at Steve. Steve grins back. He wants to kiss him on his thin blond mustache. Maybe he will, tonight.

Forward together, no turning back.

#i just want everybody to be gay and alive #happy pride #harringrove #billy x steve #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove ficlet #steve x billy #robin buckley #buckleway #heather holloway

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insanityandstars · 3 months

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Silly ideas about scream (1996)

if one of the boys survived:

Stu would have extreme guilt, I think he'd grow to be very nihilistic, like, very. He'd definitely snap back to his senses a little, he'd realise how shitty everything was but even though he'd be guilty and somewhat remorseful, I feel like if he had the choice to go back and prevent it - he wouldn't. He'd definitely have a strong belief that instead of Billy it should've been him that died, because of this I think he'd really hit rock bottom again but not in a psychotic murderous way but in a extremely depressed, no longer takes care of himself way. To cope he'll definitely paint Billy as some great guy who he loved deeply, he'd talk about it as if it was all his fault and as though it wasn't Billy's. Would definitely say stuff like "Billy could've done so much good for himself" or "he gave me love in a way no-one else remotely bothered to"

Billy on the other hand would kinda just be sitting in the hospital bed, head in hands, grieving - not for Stu - but for his failed plan. He'd definitely regret it, but only because it didn't work. He 100% misses Stu but is in extreme denial.. like; "no, I don't miss him I just- miss the way he'd play with my hair and.. his smile, and the way he'd gently kiss my jaw---". He'd definitely pause after his mini rant, be self aware of his slight regret for a moment and then ignore it for the rest of his life. As a comfort tactic, he'd definitely talk shit about Stu, talk down about him to make himself feel better - something I think he did when they were both alive. It would be stuff like "he was a lost cause" or "there was no point in him even trying, he was set out to be a disappointment"

#scream 1996 #scream #scream headcanons #stu macher #billy loomis #stuilly #billy x stu #angsty romance #angsty prompts #they were so in love #but not really #It was toxic #Silly scream ideas

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delopsia · 1 month

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Hello and welcome to "Del wants to ramble about the Outer Range season 2 trailer." I hope you're ready for a whole lot of nothing...

The CGI continues to remind us that it is, in fact, CGI. What the hell is this?

Flash scene of Wayne burning his damn house down. I'd know that bald spot anywhere.

Y'all already heard me ramble about this, but there's something wrong with this dinner scene. Aside from us knowing that the family is not together, there's one major oddity in the background.

Rhett's truck is an entirely different color.

That's his lightbar with the iconic four lights. Still a single-cab GMC Sierra. But Rhett's truck is blue. Not tan.

Wilder, we see Rhett's truck a few scenes later! You can even see how the hood is bent from hitting the billboard.

We finally confirm that Amy is 8. Even though the writer said she was 9...😑Brian Watkins, I had faith in you being correct. If you squint, you'll notice that Rhett's right hand is wounded. I doubt this stems from the rodeo because he always uses his left hand to hang on to the bull. The only injury we saw was to his left shoulder.

I'm taking the guess that up until now, Rhett likely didn't know that Amy went missing during the rodeo. Which may cause him to realize that Cecelia never abandoned him; she was just looking for Amy.

In the official Season 2 press notes, the following is mentioned: "After Amy's disappearance, Rhett is torn between his dreams of starting over somewhere new with Maria and being a dutiful son to Royal and Cecelia." So, I can assume that this might be what sets that into motion?

Offhanded, but this is SUCH a good look on her

MY TOUCH THEORY IS DOING THINGS. Look at Autumn's hand. Royal's touching the back of it, and as soon as he pulls away, the cute cosmic lights stop.

I'm so happy to see this random side character make a return. I was so nervous that she was one of those characters that appear for two minutes and that's it.

...this is a wild way for Joy to get in touch with her roots. But unfortunately for her, talking about it will more than likely get her a one-way trip to a psychiatrist.

Clyde is alive and well; bless him.

I've said it once, and I'll say it again. How the hell did Billy survive being shot through the neck??

and also

WAYNE? All it took was Billy feeding him a little bit of time powder and he's back to his old menacing ways. Meanwhile Luke looks like he lost part of his soul when that herd of buffalo ran him over.

Luke, what does this gesture mean. Strangle? Punch? My jaw hurts? And I assume this is Autumn we're seeing on the corner? Patricia maybe? I dunno.

Edit: I'm 99% sure that's Patricia.

PERRY YOU DAMN IDIOT. HAVE YOU LEARNED NOTHING FROM YOUR LAST BAR FIGHT?? I don't know who this other dude is but I hope he gets Perry square in the mouth <3 please I need to see Perry get his ass handed to him

This gives me so many thoughts. Rhett's shorter hair. He's a hand holder, your honor! Sentence him to a lifetime of snuggles and interlaced fingers!

So we know that for sure, Joy will somehow return to the present timeline. I don't know who could be driving this vehicle, but it looks a lot like the one that was sitting in the Tillerson's driveway in S1. We know Billy drives the older red vehicle, so this can either belong to Luke or Trevor.

Hear me out, hear me out. We can assume that the blonde woman is Autumn, considering the whole...cult thing. We've seen a handful of scenes of her with Luke in this trailer, so what if that's him holding her hand? That hat silhouette looks an awful lot like the one we saw in S1.

Alternatively, It can also be Rebecca and Perry, but I have no evidence to back this other than the blonde hair.

*in my best patrick star voice* WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE?

I cannot be convinced that this is a real scene. It's gotta be some kind of dream that Royal is having, especially when you take note of the little white things floating around. It gives a sort of dreamy effect.

THIS IS SHERRIF JOY! Not only is the outfit the same in the following scene (not the one of her running lmao, that's just to show you what the gun looks like), but you can see the gun on her hip.

The hand on Rhett's throat is smaller than his is. Look how thick his fingers are compared to the mystery ones. I'm betting my left foot that this is a female character doing this to him. Autumn and Rebecca are on my list of suspects.

But also, what the hell is he looking at? Never once is he looking at the person doing this to him; he's looking at something behind the camera. Baby, what did they do to you this season?? 😭

I hit my picture limit, but Wayne (I think) diving into the hole made me giggle. He picked such an iconic pose.

Someone says quote "Time reveals all." But I don't think we've heard this voice before?? Who the hell is speaking?

This final shot is insane. Don't know who is coming out, presumably Perry or Wayne, but you could ABSOLUTELY spin Outer Range as a horror if you really wanted to. The elements are all there; they just need a little reworking!

#outer range #outer range spoilers #del's tin hat thoughts

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suffering-and-happy-about-it · 4 months

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Their Song (Killshot, Part 4.)

Description: The occupation as a member of SAS came along with many restrictions and rules one had to follow to a dot. It could get even more intense for a soldier carrying a lot of trauma and not enough self-love, if any at all. Thank God, this lonely soldier meets a lonely florist one day, and as they say - animals have the best judge of character.

Part Summary: While Ghost was trying to process the new information during his military duties, Cassie had a different idea on her mind - inviting you both to join the party during the upcoming karaoke session.

A/N: Okay listen, I know we're here for our boy Ghost and his story, but come on - we can not ignore how fine of a specimen Captain John fucking Price is. Like girl, don't even pretend you wouldn't be smitten by this charmer. He's the catch, the moment, the stunner. I wanted to write a chapter that focuses on the relationship between other characters too, so expect some bonding between Johnny, Cass, Nelly, Gaz and Price. Cuz we love good friendships and happy families. The chapter's ending is heavily influenced by Saturn and Turning Page by Sleeping at Last.

Warnings: Strong mentions of anxiety, reader getting hammered, usage of alcohol, and smoking (both mentioned and active), Simon Riley secretly having the voice of an angel. A lot of '...' is used in emotionally heavy moments. Mentions of various pop songs - it's not important, you can imagine singing any song you'd like - the only song I'm adamant about is Meet Me At Our Spot (by the Anxiety) being their song because the entirety of the story is built on it.

Word count: 9.5K (i have no apology)

Tagging: @poohkie90

Master list: H E R E | Ghost's tapes: P L A Y L I S T

Cassie did as she promised - after Simon texted her the address, she was at your flat within the next 15 minutes. The traffic was usually clogged at this hour, but she did her best. Simon couldn't appreciate it enough. "... And I've cooked some vegetable broth for when she wakes up. Think it's a bit strong, but whatever. It'll get her back on her feet.." - Simon explained to Cassie as he walked through the flat, explaining what went down that evening. The woman listened intently, nodded, and hummed when needed. - "Promised her I'd wake her up when it's done, but she looked miserable the last time I checked on her."

"That's very nice of you." - Cassie smiled, putting her coat away as she was making herself more comfortable - she packed fresh homey clothes and the most basic hygiene she could need in case your flu got even worse than that. Living alone wasn't easy and sometimes, you needed someone to rely on - Cassie, still considering you one of her closest friends, was glad she could be that someone for you. - "She's lucky someone's looking out for her like you do.

"The least I could do, really." - The man grunted, putting his jacket on. No matter how much he liked being around Cass, he wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. He was barely containing the urge to beat Billy to a pulp and he didn't want to direct these intense emotions towards Cass or, in the worst case, you. - "Bonnie's also taken care of, took her for a walk, and checked she had enough to drink and to eat. Would be wise to walk her in the morning, though." "Aye aye, captain. Stop worrying - you keep on forgetting that I live with Johnny, I know how to make shit work." - The blonde nodded, smirking at all the concern she could see in Simon's eyes. - "I'm sure both of them will be alive and well tomorrow morning if you'd like to check on them. Or, you could cancel your plans and hang around? I'm sure Y/N would be delighted to see you when she wakes up." "Can't. It's urgent." - Simon dismissed, looking around for the last time. The peaceful image of being able to put his shoes in the same shoe rack was smushed by all the anxiety and hatred he was feeling. It felt as if this image flashed in his head years ago, not a few hours ago.

Cassie was waiting for Simon to make sure everything was okay - it was hard to say what was going on inside his mind, but there had to be something. Yes, she and Johnny caught the wind that your chemistry seemed to be flowing well - especially after you disclosed to her that Ghost visits you nearly every shift, spending your lunch breaks together. She wouldn't have suspected the two of you were at this stage, though. Cassie was... Genuinely happy when she heard Simon was at your place, taking care of you when you got sick. The two of you were one of the best people she had gotten to know - and from what little Johnny told her about L.t., neither of you had the best of luck with the people who hung around you. Cassie wasn't sure who it was when it came to Simon, but in your case, Billy was the prime example. She hated his guts ever since you introduced them on one of your shifts. The guy gave her the chills even though she mostly liked everyone - that was a major red flag.

Therefore, the knowledge of the two of you... Spending time together, getting to know each other... That was something that made Cassie smile. "Hey, Si?" - She asked when Simon finally walked to the front door, ready to leave the apartment. "What is it?" "Hope you didn't forget about next Saturday?" "How could I? You and Johnny keep bugging me off about it. Price also chimed in today." - Ghost reiterated with irony, sending one of his famous wink in Cassie's direction. - "Can't wait." "Take care, big guy."

For the next few hours, Cassie and Bonnie dozed off while watching the Bake Off - the two were splayed on the couch, nuzzling together. Bon usually slept in your bed (you even bought the doggie stairs for her since she was too small to hop onto it), but since your door was shut tight and there was a new strange human friend to hang around, she gladly spent the night with Cass. It could be around four in the morning when you woke up, setting on a journey to take a piss, have some veggie broth, take some painkillers, and then, go to sleep again. As you noticed Cassie messaging her eyes (the creaking of your floorboards woke her up), you thought you'd simply made her up. The last you remembered, Ghost didn't have long blonde hair and a petite figure. She frightened you when you walked back into the living room - the girl was standing in the small kitchenette area, heating up the broth while making you both a cup of tea.

"Mornin', sleeping beauty." - She hummed as she stretched her back, yawning as she did so. "Hi." - You muttered back, coughing right after. - "What are you doing here? When... Did you come?" "Around 8? Ghost had something going on and couldn't stay, unfortunately, so he called for backup. I'm the backup." "Figures. So sorry to bother you, but I'm good, Cass. Bet you'd rather be doing anything else than hanging around with me right now." "Shush, Y/N. I'm glad to be here." - The woman answered, sending you one of her heartfelt, genuine smiles. Damn, she was still the same sunshine you remembered. - "On a different topic, I hope you're hungry. The broth smells so damn good." "He promised to wake me up when it's done. Bet the plans came out of nowhere." - You assumed, putting on a sweater to try to fight off the chills. You were so cold that your teeth kept on clattering.

"Does sound like Ghost to me." - The girl answered, snickering. - "He checked on the flat at least four million times before he left, though, so you can be sure we're safe and sound here." "Were you cleaning up?" - You wondered, noticing the folded clothes - furrowing at the sight of your coat also being neatly folded. Whoever was cleaning up your kitchen was a damn genius. All of the appliances suddenly seemed pristine, even those that you struggled to clean for years. Everything was organized in a way that simply made sense. It was hard to explain, but the newly given order made your kitchen three times nicer. Also, all the mess laying around the flat, that you've been planning on cleaning the entire week, was neatly put on the coffee table for you to organize - along with that fucking photo... And that fucking letter. "No, me and Bon dozed off after McAvoy went on a tangent about his dough being a bit too wet." - Cassie admitted honestly, putting a mug filled with hot tea in front of you. You didn't flinch away from the sight of the photo and the letter lying on the coffee table, your expression devoid of emotion.

Ghost, you realized, your expression slowly drowning in worry and horror. Did Ghost see it? Did Ghost read it? Of course he did, you didn't bother with picking up the photo even though you knew it was lying under the fridge. Why would you? But what about about you now? You were in so much trouble, if Billy gets to know, he'll come and... You had to almost slap yourself. Billy wasn't there to do shit anymore. You were safe. As you sat there, frozen in place, you realized you weren't even mad at Ghost - it felt so freeing for someone to know. To know what you're going through, to see it all on paper. You should've been raging, you should ask Cassie to call Ghost's sorry ass so you could talk with him about who gave him the right to fucking snoop - and instead, you were so fucking grateful. A huge portion of the weight was lifted off your shoulders, realizing there was someone you could confide in regarding what Billy said... You could tell Ghost about everything Billy had done to you.

Sure, most people didn't like Billy, but none of the said people knew how bad the situation truly was. Others could see only how he treated you in public - how he talked about you as if you were a pet, something he had to take care of, something so annoying he hated it with every fiber of his being. What they didn't know? About everything that had happened in your old apartment, about what went down behind the closed doors. None of them knew about the numerous emergency visits, about all the 'stairs you've fallen off', about the holes in the walls, about the broken furniture and dishes. The people around you, except your mum, didn't know. The fact you didn't file a report against his ass was astonishing - you had plenty of chances to do so. The doctor who treated you anytime you came in asked multiple times if you'd like to share something with him - you could see it in his eyes - he knew. But you never did. You were too scared. So scared you fled one day.

You should've burnt both, the photo and the letter, just like you promised your mum. Instead, the evidence lay right there, on your coffee table, and someone whom you trusted dearly was aware of your struggle.

"You alright?" - Cassie wondered, watching your distressed expression. "Hm?" "I'm asking if you're alright, been silent for the past couple of minutes. You're looking like you've seen a ghost." "I'm pretty sure he's asleep by now, but okay." - You answered, your sass making Cassie snicker.

After you've both eaten a bowl of that delicious fucking broth (it was the best you've had in your life), chatting about everything new in your respective lives, Cassie fished out a package of butter biscuits from literally nowhere. Later, she admitted she found them in the pantry - this made you smile. While biscuits weren't your go-to snack, you could appreciate them - Ghost thought of everything. He bought utensils, medicine, actual food and even snacks. If God finally decided to answer your prayers for a guardian angel, Ghost was it. "'s the tea okay?" - Cass wondered, sitting opposite you with a croaked smile. Bonnie was lying by her feet, hoping Cassie would drop at least a crumble of cookies by 'accident'. "Best I've had in years. Poured your heart into making that cuppa, didn't you?" "You bet, love. Anywho, Johnny and I were wondering... What you're up to next Saturday?" "Nothing I can think of. I'll probably have a spa day with my mum. Hadn't taken her out in a month." "Would you like to come to a karaoke with us? It's in the evening, so you'd have plenty of time for your mum and yourself." - Cass asked excitedly, her eyes glimmering with hope. - "Everyone's wondering if you'd show up!"

"Uh-uh, they surely are." - You reiterated uncomfortably. It was hard to believe any of the people surrounding Cassie would genuinely want you around - you could say Cass was enthralled by the prospect of having you join their little crew, but the rest? "Not this again, girl. For starters, Johnny is talking my ear off regarding you, constantly asking if I've invited you yet? What did the bonnie say? You hadn't asked her? Shite, hon, pick up the phone and do it right now!" - The way she horridly imitated Johnny's accent made you genuinely laugh. - "Nelly asked countless times if you'd join our brunches and hangouts, she hadn't talked to you in years. Kylie will be there. Gaz promised he'd stop by for a drink, and Price... Girl, you'll love Capt'n Prize. He's easygoing, fun and very easy on the eyes." "Cass! Behave, you have a man at home." - You exclaimed, staring at her in disbelief. "What?! He's one handsome bloke, a high-ranking geezer in the military, too - I won't be denying he's handsome. If you think I'm wicked, you should hear what Johnny says about the guy! You have no idea how many times I've had to listen to Johnny's rambling about John's pecs." - With this, you both giggled until comfortable silence fell over the room.

"So... Are you coming?" "I... I don't think it's appropriate. You guys seem like a good party of friends, I'd be your plus one - the new weirdo on the block. Yannow what I mean?" "Except you wouldn't be, dummy. C'mon, everybody wants you to come. Ghost even said it's his only condition - you wouldn't wanna let the guy rot at home now, would you?" "He said that? You're committing emotional extortion right now, Cassandra." - You tried to circle around, but Cass' knowing smile revealed she was seeing right through your bullshit - she knew well to keep Ghost's wish under wraps until the last moment. It was nice watching you get excited, giddy up and grin a bit. She didn't answer your question, just smiled - "Well... If that's the case, I might drop for a glass or two." "I'm so happy to hear that. Wear whatever bloody hell you want, we don't care, just feel comfy and come in a good mood. The drinks are on us, we'll only need help with the rental. Also - we need to sing a song together." "No way Cass. You remember how bad I am at singing, right?" "Bull-fucking-shit. It's gonna be so epic. God, I can't wait."

Well, no matter how much you tried to resist and how you planned on shutting Cass' request down, by 9 p.m. on the following Saturday, the two were yelling some pop-song lyrics into the microphone with a drink in your hand. Holy fuck it felt wonderful to let all the worries and burdens go, even for one evening.

The week leading up to the karaoke session was a doozie for both you and Simon. He contemplated asking Cassie for your number, to call you, text, check on you - he'd been scheduled to look after rookie training in a boot camp a few miles away from London, unable to make it back even for a small chat. He vanished into thin air at the worst time - he acknowledged but couldn't do anything to let you know. The man wished to let you know he wasn't mad and that he certainly wasn't going anywhere - but opening such a sensitive topic with the victim of domestic abuse was very tricky. Of which he was aware, as he also fell into this bracket. At times, Ghost wished he'd be better at conveying emotions and more approachable to open such topics. Although everything that happened during his life, he'd considered himself a good listener - he highly doubted you'd simply spill the beans about the darkest time of your life when you meet up next time, let alone acknowledge he snooped in your private matters without your permission. Were you mad at him? How much will you tell Ghost off when he makes it back home? Will it lead to a well-deserved argument? It should, right? The thoughts about you and William consumed Simon's brain during each second of the service, turning him into an anxious ball by the end of the week.

Not that you'd be faring better than Simon. If it was possible, you were doing even worse than he was - what was wrong? Where was he? Was he okay? Did the letter make him change his mind? Did Ghost draw false conclusions from it? Each day at work, you hoped to see the man approaching in the distance, carrying two cups - this would be the first sign that everything was okay. You wished he'd drop by for a chat, even if you'd awkwardly sit around in silence. Being unable to see him was killing you - only on Thursday you learned about his minor deployment. It didn't ease the stress much, but at least you knew you weren't the cause of his disappearance.

Cassie and Johnny, thankfully, pulled through. The night Cass stayed over, watching you, rekindled the long-lost friendship and fueled it with a new flame. This one was gentler, not all-consuming - it wasn't the spontaneous friendship of two kids but rather a meaningful adult connection you felt you were missing. Your mum was over the moon hearing that Cass invited you for a karaoke - as you told her about Johnny bringing you breakfast the following morning put a gentle, knowing smile on her face. The two started texting you whenever they felt like it, ranging from 'How you doing' to 'Look what a weird strange thing I found in the store today'. Johnny even came on Friday to have lunch with you - he'd been just dismissed from the base (he had to sign some new payment estimates and take a picture for his personnel folder), sending warmest regards from Ghost. This boosted your mood immensely, turning you into a brand new person.

This led you to Saturday night. Everyone invited to the karaoke was pretty neat, you had to admit. Nelly, just as Cass solemnly swore, was over the moon when she saw you approaching the table, squealed, and immediately pulled you into one of her bear hugs. Kylie, even though you didn't remember her, was easy to be around - she had a nice aura surrounding her as she sipped on her margarita. Gaz, Kyle to you, was another member of Johnny's squad, you've learned on your way to get a drink. The gentleman got on his feet when you announced you'd like something to drink, offering to accompany you. There was something about his careful tone, gentle smirk and slightly narrowed eyes. While you perceived Johnny as an unstoppable force fuelled by sweets and coffee, Gaz seemed calmer, like cold gauze treating a burn or the soothing smell of air after rain. You loved his aura - every bit of energy Kyle offered, you took with a grateful smile.

John Price, Capt'n Prize as Cass dubbed him, was every bit like Cass painted him out to be - even more than that. It was hard to believe he was real at first - men like him usually ended up on the cover of Sears. Your eyes were there for Ghost and Ghost only, but damn, John was ridiculously easy on the eyes, charming, and attractive - a fucking stunner at his finest. When you got over his ridiculous attractiveness, there was everything else about John Price. There was something about his sharp wit, rascalous grin and devious jitters in his eyes, something about the way he insisted on joining him on his smoke breaks. The guy was a good listener, sneering and gruffing upon hearing your jokes and stories, his eyes not leaving you for a second. If you weren't smitten with your masked soldier, you'd beg Price to give you his number by the end of the night.

Ghost was running late ('Don't you worry 'bout the boy, lass, he's alright', Price informed), and after Gaz brought you your third drink, singing sounded like a good fucking idea. Not too much later, you and Cassie were jumping on the impromptu stage, dancing to some sort of British electro-pop, grinning from ear to ear - Ghost was standing in the shuffle door of your reserved lounge, watching you two enjoying the moment. He'd imagined how to explain his late arrival and the fact he was gone for a week, but the moment you sent him a smile and waved at him, already a bit tipsy, all the excuses dissipated into thin air.

You looked so beautiful when you were having fun - all the worries and everyday problems disappeared with a wave of a wand (more probably a microphone, that was), and alcohol gave you the long-lost courage and love for life. Ghost had seen you happy before, yes, but he hadn't seen you entirely carefree yet. "Thank you, Lucky Voice, thank you! We'll be here all week!" - Cass cried out drunkenly, bobbing a curtsy to the entire table of drunkards watching you. "The hell we won't, the rental price is insane here, lass!" - Johnny protested, making Cass laugh. Kylie and Gaz got up, preparing to sing Abba's 'Super Trouper' right after your tremendous performance. Even though Ghost would love nothing but listening to them, he couldn't miss how you approached him, your legs unsteady and uncertain.

"Hey there, stranger." "Hey, love." - The man whispered, growing soft upon looking at your flustered face. You were a bit sweaty from all the jumping, but you still looked so fucking good. So fucking good that Ghost had to do his best not to kiss you right off the bat in fact - it was a tough week and you were finally there, in front of him, close enough he could feel your warmth on his skin, close enough to be hugged, kissed and cherished... Your presence felt like a fever dream. He'd been sacked at the boot camp, looking over rookies, and following orders while having you and William on his mind all the fucking time. One moment, he swore he'd kill the guy the next chance he got; when he blinked, memories of you suddenly appeared, plastering yourself all over his brain, smiling sweetly at him. He's been missing your presence, the unmistakable charm you were bringing to the world... It was a week since he'd been under your spell and there was no other place in the entire world he'd rather be than at the karaoke bar, right by your side. "You're looking... Rough." "Am I now?" "Long week?" "Fuckin' tell me about it." "The boys mentioned. Wanna grab a drink and go for a smoke break? I'm fresh out of mine so I'd appreciate both - some booze and fresh air." "Would be my pleasure."

Asking him about all the details he'd been willing to share, the two of you grabbed a drink and ventured in front of the karaoke bar for a bit, lazily shuffling back into the rented lounge. Even though you tried your damnest to prolong the moment you were having with Ghost, Johnny ruined the intimacy the moment he saw you approaching - the guy jolted over to you, grabbing you by your elbow with great care. "We're gonna sign, bonnie lass, me 'n you. Price found the perfect song for us." "Did he now? That sounds menacing." "It'll be in good fun, c'mon. Be a good sport for me, eh?" "I would never turn you down, Johnny. I'm just worried about which tune Price picked out, 's all."

"Give me your drink. I'll fetch it to the table." - Ghost offered silently, melting at the sight of you and Johnny giggling like two little kids. With a sorrowful smile, your glass ended up in Ghost's palm - you wished the moment would've lasted longer, that you'd have longer for listening to him rambling about everything and nothing. You missed him. "'m sorry." - You added, stopping in your tracks. Johnny halted alongside you, watching the two of you ogling back and forth, Simon's eyes boring into you with unmatched intensity. If you'd let him, his eyes would probably devour you whole. Johnny let out a quiet whistle, waiting for you to be done with your small moment. Cassie proclaimed how she's positive Simon is into you and that you might be interested in him... But seeing it unravel in front of his eyes was adorable.

Your eyes never left Simon's face, your palm gently holding onto his forearm. You were standing inappropriately close - Simon could feel your breast bumping into his arm each time you took a breath. If you were anyone else (Nelly, for example), Ghost would've already shown you out of his personal space - but the guy did nothing, even took an almost unnoticeable step closer. The bloody bastard that reached an impressive 6'4 in height seemed to grow smaller and gentler in your presence, his eyes filled to the brim with warmth and adoration - why two you weren't dating yet was beyond Soap, truly. "Nothin' to be sorry about, love. You go and enjoy yourself now, yeah?" "I'll catch you later."

Moments later, you found yourself in a fit of laughter over Johnny's interpretation of 'California Gurls'. You loved everything about it - the false confidence he radiated despite not having any semblance of musical hearing, his inability to match his tone to the note progression and his horrible timing. The chorus, however, was something to behold - neither of you tried to sing, knowing the chorus by heart (thanks to this song being in the radio on a fucking loop), you simply yelled it into each other's faces, bouncing around and hyping each other up. Price didn't even cover the phone - he immortalized each second of your moving performance, sending it to Cassie the moment he ended recording. Cassie and Nelly were crying, losing it the moment you did your best to imitate Snoop Dog - Gaz appeared to be severely traumatized, cracking a grin when the hellish screeching finally stopped.

"Bloody hell, this was one of the best decisions of my life." - Price muttered, drying his cheeks. He meant it, none of them laughed this hard in the last few weeks. Cass was dragging him to sing their rendition of Take Me Out. - "I'm playin' this on your bloody wedding, sarge. Stellar." These two picked out Franz Ferdinand as their band of choice, dramatically portraying each lyric - alcohol and good company always made John pipe down, relax and sometimes, on extremely rare occasions, do rather silly and inappropriate things you wouldn't see a military skipped doing... Just as jumping around to the riff of 'Take Me Out'. "That's my fiancé! I taught my bonnie lass to listen to good fucken' music!" - Johnny explained, listening to the opening chords. You knew it, of course, it was well-known, but Johnny's sudden burst of pride made you stare at him with mouth agape. Thankfully, Kyle and Ghost to the rescue.

"Johnny can get a wee bit patriotic." - Kyle explained as the Scotsman jumped around in the rhythm, making you a bit terrified. "Uh-uh." - Ghost nodded, confirming. - "Hates us 'fucking lunatics', meaning Brits, according to his own words. Everyone except you and Cass according to his latest statement. Love that about the chap, though." "What does patriotism have to do with... Fucking anything?" - At that moment, Johnny started screaming the words with the same "grace" he sang California Gurls with. It looked both scary and funny at the same time. "The band is Scottish, you see?" - Kyle explained. "Heard him swearin' he'd plunk any uncultured swine who'd tarnish their rep." - Ghost added, taking a good swing of his whiskey. "Hillarious..." - Kyle added, clinking his glass with yours, kicking all the remnants in. "Scary." - You hummed, moving out of the way for Kyle to comfortably leave the table.

"On the topic of Johnny... Looked good out there. Didn't know you're such a talented singer." - Ghost murmured as you watched the trio, enchanted with how silly they acted. "You're fucking with me now, aren't you?" "I'm serious - wasn't as bad as I expected. Enjoyed every second of your brilliant performance." "If you enjoyed that, your musical hearing is fucked, buddy, sorry to inform you. Anywho, what will you sing?" "Oh, I'm just here for fun and banter. I don't do singing." "Don't be a party popper. C'mon." "And have you poking fun at me for the rest of my life? No, thank you." - Thankfully, he was saved by Nelly - she was asking for help with moving and assembling some furniture at her new place. Both Gaz and Ghost agreed to take a look at it whenever she needed them to.

His streak of not 'taking part in singing at karaoke' was challenged not even two hours later. The party had moved from drinks to shots - you were more courageous, not taking no for an answer. You, Cass and Nelly even had the first round of ugly crying of the night under your belts, crying about how you should've rekindled the friendship way sooner - at this, all the gentlemen decided to go for a smoke break, leaving Kyle behind as your nanny. As soon as Price got back, you were on his ass - sighing about him being one of the most handsome blokes you've ever met. Price could only choke out an amused: - "Why, thank you, miss." - before laughing his ass off at your drunk expression. You were standing in front of Simon now, your palm extended to him, chin risen ever so slightly. The expression you had was dangerous - determined and cocky.

"You need anythin'?" - Ghost prompted, grinning at the sight. He'd downed two glasses of whiskey by that point, the bourbon delicately burning in his chest. "Yah. You, me, the stage, now." - It wasn't a question nor a wish, it was an order. Simon's eyes narrowed as he smiled, darkening ever so slightly. He liked it when you were bossy. Cass, unbeknownst to your knowledge, bumped Johnny's shoulder, the duo now shamelessly staring at you. The rest of the table was engaged in a conversation as Price and Kyle told the ladies some of the less confidential stories. "I don't do singing, already told you when you asked." "Too bad I'm not asking. Move your ass, I spent ten fuckin' minutes looking for our song." "Our song?" - Simon whispered, all the air suddenly kicked out of his lungs. Of course, he knew what song you had in mind - the one playing when he worked on the chicken broth. Ashamedly, Simon had to admit he memorized each word, each chord because he had it playing on a loop in his headphones before going to sleep. "C'mon, mate. Make an exception, just for once - won't kill ya to sing. Poor lass barely hit the right keys." - Soap chimed in, his strong Scottish accent overwhelming the conversation - everyone's eyes were on you now, waiting for Simon to finally take your fucking hand. "Shit was kinda blurry, 's right." - You admitted, still waiting for Simon to take your hand. It wasn't a shame to admit you barely recognized a from m at this point, the alcohol kicked in big time.

His palm caught yours, slipping around it like a glove... As if your hands were moulded to be held by this, fitting like two pieces of a fucking puzzle. Getting you onto the improvised stage was a task in itself - you've stuttered on your way up and if it wasn't for Simon's hands catching your shoulders, you'd fall square on your face. "Who's singing Willow's part?" - Simon wondered as you offered him his microphone - your eyes darted next to his head as if you were trying to determine which of the Ghosts in front of you was the real one. "You, duh. Bet you're rocking luscious, beautiful curls under that mask 'f yours." "Fuckin' close 'nough, I guess." - The guy laughed, shaking his head at you - your drunk form was absolutely fucking adorable. If he'd have to describe it, you looked like a mischievous little devil. "Hit it, Jack!" - You exclaimed, pointing in Johnny's direction - Cassie was kneeling in front of the table with her phone at the ready, determined to catch every second of what was coming. Fuck, Simon realized, he'll have this on his plate for the foreseeable future. "Ma'am, yes ma'am!" - Soap answered with matching intensity, saluting as he his 'play'. The known base filled the silent lounge, having everyone staring at you with their breaths batted - you were swaying in the rhythm, your moves far from graceful but you were clearly enjoying yourself, lost in the moment.

You didn't know what you were expecting - Simon was a well-built man with 6'3 height under his belt, his voice naturally guttural and gruffly, clouded with a thick British accent. While you braced yourself to hear the most horrible hellish screeching imaginable, Simon's singing almost gave you a heart attack and swept Johnny off his drunk feet. Ghost sounded like an angel. All of you stared at the man in disbelief as he poured his fucking soul into the lyrics, hitting each fucking note perfectly. His interpretation of your favourite song was what you wanted to listen to over and over, selfishly wishing you'd record it. Simon had to poke your shoulder to make you realise it was your turn to sing - hastily, you joined him during the chorus, surprising your small audience even further.

Your singing wasn't bad, but not Grammy-worthy either - and yet, hearing you two harmonize was magical. Soon, you'd forget about your friends at the table, staring at each other while singing your hearts out. His eyes hadn't moved from yours, the man sang each line as if he meant it - it made your heart beat heavily in your chest. For Simon, it wasn't just singing - each line of the song had a meaning. It was one of his silly little wishes it could become your reality where you'd met earlier in your lives. In this universe, you'd be just two young adults falling in love, meeting up so you'd forget all about the stress and anxiety tying you down in each other's arms.

In that reality, Simon could be enough for you and you'd be enough for yourself. You wouldn't feel the need to stick around guys who weren't good for you, you wouldn't receive extortive mail, and you wouldn't be alone. He wouldn't cover his face because he couldn't stand to look himself in the eye, neither because he was protecting his identity. In this reality, William wouldn't exist. You'd have your spot in each others' arms, falling asleep feeling safe. In this reality, you could lead a happy, day-to-day life. There was a small moment when the song finished, a glimpse of a second when Simon almost kissed you. Your expression was adoring, glimmering with happiness and pure, unconditional love - the microphone dropped by your hip, and you were staring into his eyes, taking a small step closer. The whole moment was ruined by Nelly getting up, clapping and whistling cheerfully, others following suit - not bad for Si's karaoke debut, Cassie had to admit.

As you stumbled away from Simon's reach, you stumbled on your feet again, falling flat on the ground this time. - "Fuck." "Aight, missy, 's 'nough for you tonight. I'll take you home, yeah?" "Noooo, Ghoooost..." - You whined dramatically as he helped you over to the table, sitting you down. - "The party just started, man. We can't leave now." "You tell that to your toilet later. Price?" - Ghost called out, catching his skipper's attention. - "Can you look after Miss Diva for a second? Gotta go to the bog." "You got it, kid."

It couldn't have taken more than five minutes to take a piss, Simon rushed the entire process to be back as soon as possible. And yet, you were gone when he made it back - your coat disappeared from the hanger, your purse gone too. Jesus fucking Christ. You were giving him a run for his money. "Where is she?" - Simon demanded, burning a hole in Price's forehead. Five fucking minutes. He was meant to look after you for five fucking minutes. "Y/N got some sort of a text and said she has to leave immediately. Who am I to stop her? She's an adult. Can make her own bloody decisions." "I was just about to walk her home." "Then you should've said so. Hadn't caught that." "Right."- Ghost fumed out, turning to Cassie. - "Can you give me her number?" "Yeah, of course, let me text it to you. Want help with finding her?" "You go and enjoy the rest of the night." "Si!" - Cassie cried out as Simon turned on his heels, following him immediately. - "I'm sorry, but John's right. We weren't listening in and Y/N's a grown-up..." "It's fine, Cass. I'll find her."

You couldn't have made it far - in the state you were in, on your wobbly and unsteady legs? No way in hell you'd make it even around the block. What worried Simon, however, was the park to his right hand. The man hoped you had enough reason not to walk through it. The first thing he heard was a hiccup before you drunkardly mumbled your name, doing your best impression of being sober. "'s me. Where have you fuckin' disappeared to?" "Me? I know a lot of mes, sir. My mum told me not to talk to strangers. S-Stranger fuckin' danger an' all that, yannow?" "It's Ghost, Y/N, you slipped out of the karaoke bar. Where the hell are you, woman?" "Awwww, hiiiii. I didn't know *hiccup* you had my number?" "Got it from Cass. Can you spill the tea?" "'m on my way home." - You explained as if it weren't obvious. - "The mood for partying kinda dropped to zero, decided I gotta go check on my adorable little doggo. I missed my sweet little princess." "That's all sweet. What do you see around you?" - Thankfully, you were drunk enough not to catch onto his plan of finding you and started to talk about your surroundings. For once, Simon was grateful for drunk people being gullible and honest.

"Trees. Lots of 'em. 's kinda dark around but I'm pretty sure some food *hiccup* in the distance. Yep, right up the vein!" "Dearie, don't say this sort'f stuff so loud, yeah?" - Simon asked, turning on his heels towards the park. He could hear you giggle on the other end, the sweet sound making him grin. - "What's that about?" "Dearie is cute 'n all, but I like it when you call me love. Makes me weak in my knees 'n all." - You admitted, stuttering over your words as you tee-heed again as if you told Simon some well-guarded secret. As if Simon didn't already know. "'kay love, tell me more about your surroundings, I'm on my way to get you. Can call you love for the rest of the night if you'd fancy that." "Ohmygod..." - You sighed swiftly, chuckling at the prospect ahead. Ghost tenderly whispering 'love' the whole night sounded like a fucking dream come true. - "You'd *hiccup*... You'd like to do that?" "Wished to do so for the longest time, love."

"I can see a bistro and some... Fuckin' statue. Whatever the fuck that's *hiccup* supposed to be, it's scary." "Any benches in the area?" - Even though your description was far from eloquent, Simon knew the place you had in mind. It was a small takeaway coffee selling baked goods and hot drinks to go. He hadn't visited it, but Cass mentioned it here and there because it wasn't far from her workplace and she enjoyed going there on her lunch break. The statue, if he wasn't mistaken, was representing either Shakespeare or Peter Pan, but Simon was unable to recall it correctly at the moment. As he suspected, you didn't get far at all. "Quite a lot. Fuck, I think it's some sort'f a square or somethin'." "Sit down for me, love, I'll be there soon. Stay with me on the phone for now, yeah?" "But I miss Bonnie soooo much, Ghost, I just wanna..." - He could hear as you struggled to sit down and fell onto the bench beats later. It was hard to make out what you precisely wanted to do to Bonnie, but he could hear some humming and kisses here and there. - "She's home all alone, my poor baby." "Not for long now, I swear, we'll take off as soon as I find you. How you're feelin'?" "Haven't thrown up yet. 's a good sign, no?" "Look at you. Quite impressive given everything you've poured down your throat." "I can handle my *hiccup* fuckin' alcohol." "You sure can..." - Simon answered breathlessly, finally reaching the spot - he could see your silhouette splayed all over the bench, your coat undone, your purse lying right next to you. - "You sure can, love." - He said as he approached, having you sit up straight faster than lightning. Your expression started beaming with blissful happiness the second you laid your eyes on him.

"Hi, Ghost!" - You squealed, shoving the phone into your purse, not caring to end the call. - "You look good tonight. *hiccup* Have I told you that already?" "Not that I can recall, no. Lookin' beautiful yourself." "Now you're just making shit up, I'm fuckin' wasted, dude. Drunk people never look sexy, 's what I always said anyway." "You look amazing all the time, love, without a fail. C'mon now, let's get you home." "You mean that?" - You whispered, your eyes glued to his as he helped you to stand your feet. Without his arm around your waist guiding you forward, you'd be fucked. Everything was blurry and multiplied, you couldn't say which trees were real and which were just a fragment of your imagination. "Never meant anything more in my life. Even in the most worn-out sweatpants you own. Let me take you home now, you sexy beast." "Never say that again. Sexy beast? Love's so much better. Jesus." "Your wish is my command, ma'am." - Ghost muttered sweetly, leading you towards the bus stop. Both of you were laughing, you were right - 'sexy beast' was the most horrid-sounding pet name that ever graced Simon's lips.

As mentioned before, Simon hated being the centre of attention - everything about that made the hair on his arms stand in pure displeasure. He hated when people stared at him, fearing that he was a threat; he just wished to blend into the crowd and remain unseen and unnoticed. Let's just say... That being unnoticed in a packed double-decker in central London with a giggling, drunken mess in his arms was near impossible. For once, however, Simon wouldn't change for the world - it was endearing to feel you grasping his jacket, nuzzling yourself closer so you wouldn't fall on some stranger in such a confined space. Watching and feeling your head leaning to his chest with a confined smile, taking a relaxed breath - smelling him and listening to his heartbeat. He'd imagined this so many times. Even though the circumstances were far from perfect, everything about it made Simon happy. He'd come to rescue you from any party you'd go to just to feel the fuzzy warmth bubbling in his chest again.

When you finally arrived at your flat, the first thing you did was turn into a whiney mess - instantly, you were on your knees, your clothes leaving very little to Simon's imagination. You burrowed your head in Bonnie's fur, sobbing uncontrollably. As he locked the door behind you, Simon simply hoped it was happy, let it be ugly, crying. "She's... She's so perfect." - You sobbed, pulling Bonnie close to your chest as you looked up to Simon, your make-up absolutely ruined by that point. The dog was clueless and didn't know what was happening - it simply licked your chin feverishly, welcoming you home. - "She's the best thing in my life right nooooow..." - And now, you were whaling. Great. Drunk women were the most ferocious and dangerous creatures in the universe - Simon was adamant about that. - "I love her soooo fucking much." "Absolutely correct, love, she's our perfect little girl. How about we clean your face and change you to more comfortable clothes?" Simon whispered, pulling a strand of hair behind your ear.

Seriously, he needed you to change your clothes ASAP - he'd love anything else but watching your figure and curves (the current view alone was bringing Simon many indecent thoughts)... But drunk fucking wasn't something Riley would be interested in - if the two of you were going to have sex, it would be sober and with full consent. The man prayed to whatever gods up there to make you change into the baggiest sweatpants and shirt you had lying around to cool off his libido. As you crawled out of your bedroom in a Bristle Bears jersey with biker shorts under, the crisis was, thankfully, averted.

Twenty minutes later, you splattered over your sofa - the TV was playing in the background as you sat with your face turned to Simon. He gently ran at least the 20th makeup wipe over your face with the utmost gentleness he could muster, concentration knitting his eyebrows together. He even took the liberty of making you a cup of tea, God bless him.

The window was crooked open, the rest of his cig slowly burning out in an improvised ashtray you crafted for him. That was when Simon noticed yet another wave of tears in your eyes. "What is it, love? Did I poke your eye on accident?" "No, that's not it. Thank you for being so nice to me." - You sobbed, first tears rolling down your cheeks. Simon sighed, doing his best to keep his inner peace balanced - seeing you cry for the millionth time was both soul-crushing and tiring at the same time. "'s nothin', trust me. What's goin' on in that noggin of yours?"

"You." - It was just a whisper, but it made Simon straighten up - his head slightly tilted this shoulder, his eyebrows cocked in confusion. - "Ehm, I meant, your face. You're being so nice to me, take care of me even though you don't have to, spend your free time in that damn flower shop with me even though all I can offer is my company..." "But your company's enough for me, trust..." "... And I don't even know *sob* what you look like." - You whinced, wiggling away from his palm. You were doing your best to stop the childish tantrum, even bent your head backwards and tried pushing the tears back in. - "It just... Doesn't feel fair, yannow? I know you have your reasons for covering your face. I know I'm acting like an absolute asshole over something so minuscule right now. Do you realize how stupid I feel for crushing on someone whose face I hadn't seen? I'd recognize your eyes anywhere, but I'd like to see more. And no matter what, I can't stop wishing to see more, even though I know it won't ever happen. Like... You hadn't told me what your name is, I just got your number because you were pissed at me, you never talk about yourself, or share details... And me crying about it is the stupidest and most selfish thing fucking ever because I'm your friend, and I'm supposed to respect your fucking privacy..."

Simon didn't move for a few beats, tuning out whatever you were ranting about - not that he didn't want to listen, but because the simple confession stole his breath away. What did you just say? Crushing? You had a crush on him? Simon was ready to outright propose if you'd like to, right there on your sofa, to your whiney, drunk ass. Confirming you had true feelings for him was marvellous, stopping his mind from wondering whether just flirted around, making him out to be just a nice little distraction. You weren't. As he processed the information, he couldn't help but chuckle - the sound halted your crying and whining immediately. If you had asked him any other time, Simon would've most likely denied the request outright... But since you were both drunk, the liquid courage was making him less self-aware and more confident. Why not? Why shouldn't he just go for it? Take his chances with you?

"... And I even asked Cassie about you even though I knew I shouldn't... I'm such a fucking prick, bloody hell." "That's what you're cryin' your pretty eyes out about?" - Simon asked, completely detached from whatever you were going about for the last few minutes. "I mean... *sob* I know it's selfish 'n all, but I'd say... Fuck! Yannow, some guys on the telly said that non-verbal communication makes up to 70% of all human interactions." "All you gotta do is ask, pretty girl." - Simon murmured, his breath growing shallow - his heart was beating so fast as if it were to burst out of his fucking chest, pressure raising rapidly as he realized the insanity of what was he was about to do. He'd push the baklava off his face if his palms weren't a sweaty, trembling mess. "Ghost, I beg you - can I see what you look like?" "Take it off yourself, love."

Gently scooping closer to him, you pumped your fingers a few times to stop them from shaking. Your adrenaline shot through the roof, and you started dragging your fingers on his shoulders, slowly working your way to his neck - giving him time to process your touch and get used to the stimuli. His body felt scorching under your touch, his pulse fast under the tips of your fingers. His eyes were closed, breathing unsteady, muscles tensed up unnaturally. You could see Ghost's palm clinging to the back of your couch, his fingers buried in with a force that turned his knuckles white. As you finally started peeling the baklava off, his body shuttered, leaning away from you. As if it was an unconscious reaction, Simon didn't spend any time before sliding back within comfortable reach, already missing the comfort of your touch. "You sure it's okay for you?" "Mhm. Just keep goin'. Don't stop - if you stop, it'll kill me, darling." - Simon muttered, securing himself in place. His leg was lazily thrown over your waist so you'd sit puzzled together, Bonnie sleeping wedged into the small space. He wanted you to see. Simon wished to look you in the eyes without covering his face. He finally wished you to experience and feel all the love and adoration brewing within him. "Okay."

Much to his dismay, you were taking your bloody time, tearing the material off so agonizingly slow - one hand was lifting the fabric, your dominant hand gently caressing every inch of the newly discovered skin. Your eyes tried to memorise it all in case you wouldn't see it again - the dent in his chin, his fawn stubble, the sharp outline of his jaw, sharp contours of his cheeks, his plush and full lips and even the ugly scar reaching from his upper lip to his left nostril. Your caresses worshipped his hooked nose, the sweet dark spots under his eyes, and all the freckles standing out on his upper cheeks thanks to the area being exposed to the sun more than the rest of his place. He could feel your touches moulding his skin gently, dragging your fingers on the ugly scar on his temple, carefully tugging on his soft dirty blonde hair - then, suddenly, the baklava was fully off. Simon felt it coming, but it still surprised him; so much so that he squished his lips into a tight line, as if he tried to hide from your eyes for even a second longer. Your hand discarded the baklava almost carelessly. Knowing you've thrown Simon's most precious shield on the ground left him utterly defenceless in your arms, at the mercy of your words and actions. And yet, there was no other place he'd rather be in the entire world.

"Ghost..." - Your voice grew meek with adoration and emotion, your palms still kneading his face. It was then that he finally allowed himself to peek at you, to see your expression. Your lips were parted slightly, your face flushed with heat, your eyes scanning him adoringly. Tears were dropping on your cheeks again. This time, Simon knew they were the result of the happiness you felt, therefore he didn't comment on them. Fuck, he felt like the luckiest and most handsome man walking the Earth.

"Hey there, dolly." - Gently, his lips brushed over the inner side of your palm before he leaned back into the touch. "You're so fucking beautiful. Bonnie, look." - Picking the dog up, you pointed at Simon's face and giggled, making Simon smirk right back at you. The dog yawned, licking its mouth and shaking its head - it wasn't interested in Simon's face to reveal in the slightest. - "He's perfect. Isn't he perfect? Tell him how fucking flawless he is, come on." "You don't mean that. That's the alcohol talking." - Simon chuckled while looking away from you, his Adam's apple bobbing as he forced a gulp down his throat. Embarrassment painted his cheeks bright pink. You made him blush, you realized, staring at him with your mouth agape. The triumph made you cackle.

The duality of Ghost left you speechless - a confident, 6'4 guy not to be messed around with the mask, snarky humour, and his physical presence overwhelming you every time. This Ghost? Giggly, happy, slightly drunk. You loved how comfortable he looked with legs puzzled around your waist, his right arm leaning into the sofa as he looked everywhere around the room instead of you. You adored every inch of his dark pink blush and the entire universe that exploded, establishing itself behind his eyes. So this was the man you loved, the one you pinned after for the last few months? You loved every inch of him. Even if he'd look utterly different, you'd still be enchanted.

"Piss drunk people are always honest." - You admitted, caressing his upper arm. Were you staring? Probably. Was it making Ghost uncomfortable or flattered? Hard to tell. Could you be stopped? No. When will you get another chance like this, to fawn over his beauty in its full glory? He was everything you imagined... And much more than that.

"... I really like it when you blush." - It was a careful admission, but you meant it. You put Bonnie down on your lap again, leaning your elbow into the couch right next to his arm, so you could stare at him more comfortably. "... And I really like you." - Simon spilt without giving it too much thought, immediately realizing what he'd just said. Well, as Price often said, in for a penny - in for a pound. This was the night of admissions and confessions... At least it was turning out to be. And each little confession felt natural, lifting heaviness off his shoulders. You knew. You must've known by now. And yet, finally admitting to it felt uplifting. "I just want you to know that if I was bold enough, I'd kiss you right now, Ghost..." "Simon." - The man whispered, shutting you off. Hearing his government name lit your face up. An amazed sigh left your lips as you connected his name to his appearance, burning it into the back of your head. - "It's Simon Riley... My name's Simon Riley. I should've told you way sooner."

"Oh, Simon, Simon, Simon, Simon..." - You chanted as if you hadn't heard a more beautiful word before. Biting your lip, your hand has risen to his cheek again, cupping it gently. Hearing his own name falling off your lips like that was heavenly. - "A name for an angel rather than for a Ghost. I like that name. It suits you." "I'm glad to hear that, ma'am." - Simon didn't like it. The name reminded him of his old man way too much, connecting him to a troubled family tree, to the people who turned him into what he was. He wasn't willing to ruin the moment you shared, however. If you said his name's nice... It must've been. "And may I?" - You whispered, staring at his lips. Simon licked his lips expectedly, nodding to let you know it's fine, that he wants it too. He put his hand on your waist, holding you in place as he scooped you closer - you were puzzling himself into his arms as if you belonged there forever, being that one little silly puzzle piece he'd lost before he was born. Your knees wrapped around his waist as you palmed his t-shirt, steadying your position.

You were both taking your time, giggling excitedly, blissed with disbelief. Your breathing was tickling Simon's face, making Simon's smile widen. Your eyes closed as you positioned your elbow around his shoulders, your nails gently scratching his scalp. So close... He was so close. Your noses bumped together, warm skin dragging across each other, your breath finally stabilizing as you got ready for the final stretch. Simon could feel your lips brush against his... But the kiss didn't come. It never came, in fact. The moment Simon opened his eyes to deduce what was wrong, a snore cut through the comfortable silence in your apartment. At first, it shut Simon off. He was staring at you, holding his palms on your shoulder blades, playing with the ends of your hair - until he started laughing quietly.

He wasn't upset, God forbid angry with you. You were trolled, in the end, drinking way more than you should - he half expected to be holding your hair for you by this point of the night. Even though you hadn't really touched the first base, this night turned into everything Simon wished for. This was just his luck - the lady holding his heart in a headlock dozing off before anything happened. "She's knackered." - Simon whispered towards Bonnie lying on the ground. The cutesy dog had no idea what he was saying, but she was excited enough to nuzzle and nibble on his ankle. - "I know, sweet girl, I know. Let me put mommy to bed, and then we'll set out for a walkie, yeah?" - The man ushered as he started folding you into his arms bridal style. Upon the word 'walkie', Bonnie growled and whimpered excitedly, almost wiggling her tail off. - "Hush, you little furry beast."

The duo spent half an hour walking outside on a cold night, Simon taking his bloody time smoking a few cigarettes to calm down. Bonnie was doing her own thing, carrying various sticks to him so they could play fetch. As soon as the door to your flat opened and Bonnie's paws got cleaned, the dog sped into your bedroom, nuzzling to you - all you did in response was throw your hand over her, grunting displeasantly. Before leaving, Simon quickly put together a note.

'Thank you for one of the best nights of my life. Prepared some coffee and painkillers for you on the counter. Text me when you wake up. Love, - Simon'

#simon riley #simon riley x fem!reader #ghost cod #ghost x fem!reader #johnny mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #john price #141 cod #task force 141 #cod: mw #here we go agaiiin #this one was a struggle to finish #i love how the ending turned out tho #they are such a cute lil mischevious pair

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kristybear2001 · 1 month

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Grief

Steve had always considered himself a straight man. He knew Eddie wasn't straight, the man had been constantly flirting with him over the last week and he wasn't exactly shy about it. He wasn't exactly sure if Eddie was gay or bisexual, but he did know that Eddie wasn't straight. And Steve. Well, amid the Upside Down and trying to keep Max alive and figuring out Vecna and what to do, had been having a sexuality crisis. Because like it or not, he found Eddie attractive.

Eddie had an infenctious energy, and despite everything the man had been through he kept a smile on his face, the one that showcased his cute little dimples, the one that lit up his whole face, that made his beautiful chocolate brown eyes sparkle with amusement and excitement. And Eddie's flirtation had been heavy. And admittedly, Steve couldn't bring himself to put an end to the flirting, and maybe he'd flirted back a little. Eddie was beautiful, Steve couldn't deny it. More often than not, he was finding excuses to talk to Eddie, excuses to touch Eddie, excuse to look at Eddie. Specifically excuses to stare at Eddie's lips.

His entire conversation where Eddie had encouraged him to get Nancy back had barely even been registered because he couldn't stop staring at Eddie's lips. They were soft, pink and full, the kind of lips that looked like they would be heaven to kiss. And thinking back, this wasn't the first time that he'd wanted to kiss a man, though he'd pushed those feelings aside as quick as they came.

Sure, there had been a brief moment when Tommy Hagan was beating the shit out of him, that he'd wanted to kiss him. And maybe back then Steve would've been a bit homophobic. But then he met Robin, and she became his best friend, and he'd grown as a person, he became an ally. There was a brief moment where he'd even wanted to kiss Jonathon Byers, because despite how they'd started out, Byers was a good guy.

Then there was Billy. Billy Hargrove who was wild and untamed and yes. Attractive. And he'd called him King Steve, and he'd be lying if he said that didn't do something to him. And now there was Eddie. Eddie who was also a little wild and chaotic, but not in a bad way. In an adorable way, and Steve never thought he would find himself calling Eddie Munson of all people, adorable. But he was. Adorable, pretty, beautiful. Gorgeous even.

And this is how Steve got to where he was now. He'd mulled over his feelings, his thoughts, and he'd come to the conclusion, that while he wasn't straight, he wasn't gay either. He was in between. Bisexual. Eddie looked just as pretty as ever, his bandana wrapped around his head, his trademark black ripped jeans with a studded belt, an army green puffy vest thrown over his black leather jacket and his Hellfire Club shirt, and the makeshift shield and spear settled on his back.

"Hey, if anything goes south, I mean at all. You abort. Ok? Don't try to be cute or. Be a hero. You guys are just...."

"Decoys, we know. Don't worry Steve. You can be the hero," Dustin says, cutting him off.

"Absolutely, I mean look at us. We are nooooooot hero's," Eddie replied.

"Ok. Good."

Steve couldn't resist a glance at Eddie. Taking him all in, definitely checking him out, before he knew he had to go. So reluctantly he turned around. Before he could take a step, he heard Eddie step forward.

"Hey Steve?"

Steve turned back around, eyes locking on Eddie, who looked nervous, like he wanted to say something but ultimately decided not to and said something else.

"Make him pay."

Steve gave a nod and started walking away. And then his heart started pounding, something told him that he should take his chance now or he would regret it later.

"Steve, what are you doing?" Nancy says when Steve turned around, yet again.

But Steve ignored her, and with enough courage and confidence as he could muster he strode right up to Eddie, grabbed him by his jacket to pull him in. And kissed him. Eddie's lips were exactly what Steve imagined they would be, better even.

He could faintly hear the surprise of Dustin, Nancy and Robin and for a brief moment Eddie was frozen, but then he was kissing him back, his hands finding Steve's own jacket to tug him closer. It wasn't a long kiss, but it was everything Steve needed. He hadn't read it wrong, the flirting had been real, and the kiss had honestly felt like coming home, a sensation that was new to Steve, but very welcome. Steve gently broke the kiss.

"Stay alive ok?"

Eddie gave a nod, his adam's apple bobbing slightly.

"You too."

Finally they let go of each other and Steve left with Nancy and Robin to go to the Creel house.

(Just a little snippet from a one shot I posted on Wattpad. I haven't seen anyone put this into a scene and I've had this idea for a few days so I finally wrote it down. I might put ir up on AO3 but for now I'll give you this little snippet and post the Wattpad link for the rest of the one shot. If you guys want to request a Steddie one shot feel free to let me know and I'll write one up for you)

(Wattpad link) https://www.wattpad.com/story/366228702?utm_source=android&utm_medium=link&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details_button&wp_uname=KristyBear21

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things 4 #oneshots

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vioartemis · 1 year

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We all go a little mad sometimes

(Amber Freeman x fem! Carpenter! Loomis! reader)

Summary: Being Billy Loomis' daughter and having the opportunity to continue your father's legacy with your girlfriend is enough to make you happy, until you realize that means your sister will probably hate you a/n: There's no logic at some point don't question it please TvT and don't get me wrong, I really like Sam, but I had to be mean to her in this ;-; Request is here :)) Warnings: blood, injuries, death, slight angst (?) (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

•°¯`•• 3 years before Ghostface appears again (2019) ••´¯°•

Tonight was a date night at your girlfriend's house. She wanted to watch Stab again. Not that you didn't like the movie, but you wouldn't mind watching something else for once.

There was something that upset you for a week or so, and this movie only made things worse. You knew Amber was a huge fan of the Stab movies, and you couldn't help but think it had an influence on your relationship.

"Baby? Everything's okay?"

You looked up at your girlfriend.

"Yeah I was just... thinking"

You gave her a reassuring smile. You weren't sure she was all convinced, but she didn't investigate more and went back to watching the movie, playing with your hair softly.

You didn't say anything for an hour, before let it out without any warning.

"You're not dating me just because I'm Billy's daughter right?"

She seemed surprised by your question. You sat up, now facing her.

"What? Of course not! Why would you think that?"

"I don't know... it's just... you're so pretty and fun and smart and amazing and everyone likes you and you could pull every fucking person on earth but you're dating me... I don't understand how someone like you can be interested in someone like me"

She seemed even more shocked than before.

"Baby..." she took your hands "I don't care who your father is, I didn't even know when we started dating. I fell in love with a beautiful girl, the most beautiful girl I've ever met. You're so kind, generous, talented, and you don't even see it. But I do. I love you for who you are, and you're an amazing person"

With that, she placed a gentle kiss on your lips. You were relieved.

•°¯`•• 2022 ••´¯°•

This part of the plan was the one you hated the most, even though you didn't have to do much. Amber and Richie were taking care of everything, you just had to pretend you were with Amber all night long while she was attacking Tara. Your sister.

You loved Tara almost as much as you loved Amber. But you had to make Sam come back to Woodsboro in some way, and one of her sisters getting hurt was the best thing you came up with.

When Amber came back that night, the first thing you asked was if Tara was okay. Stupid question knowing your girlfriend stabbed her 6 times.

"She's alive, don't worry"

Killing her wasn't part of the plan, you made it very clear. You sighed in relief.

"And you? Are hurt?" you asked

"I'm fine, just got kicked in the head, nothing bad"

She smiled at you and wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you closer to her.

"Everything's going to be okay baby, soon we'll leave Woodsboro and start a new life together..."

She kissed you lazily, her eyes fluttering shut as she fell asleep.

"Welcome to act 3"

This sentence marked the begging of the last part of your plan. After Amber shot Liv, you faked running away like the others, only to lock yourself in a broom closet and put on a Ghostface costume.

You had to bring Gale inside of the house while Amber and Richie took care of Sam and Sidney.

"Oh so there's two of you. Again."

You turn on your voice changer.

"Three actually. We had to bring something new to the franchise. This time you're not surviving the massacre Gale, the fans don't like heroes that always make it."

You grabbed her arm and pulled her up.

"Let's go. You wouldn't want to miss the big finale would you?"

"You know, that's usually when they take off their mask and show who they are while explaining their plan"

"Guess I'm different then"

You pushed her toward the house. Everyone should be in the kitchen by now.

As you entered the hall, you made eye contact with your girlfriend, giving her the signal.

"Speaking of surprises... We have one for you" she smirked at Sidney and Sam

You pushed Gale inside the room for Richie to grab her arm, before stepping in too, turning your voice changer off.

"There's three of you...? But Y/n and Tara are going to call the police and send you all to jail you sick fucks! If you think they're going let you get away with that you've gone mad! " Sam spat

"We all go a little mad sometimes" you said, taking the mask off, revealing yourself

The expression on your sister's face almost made you pity her. Almost.

"How did I do?" you asked your girlfriend, a smile on your face

"Nailed it baby"

She walked up to you and kissed you tenderly.

"Y/n...?"

You turned around to face your older sister.

"You didn't think you could disappear for 5 whole years and come back as if nothing happened, did you?"

"I already told you I left because-"

"Because you're Billy Loomis' daughter and you wanted to protect us. I remember that. But guess what? I'm his daughter too! You didn't go that far in mom's diaries huh?"

"You've become exactly what I wanted to protect you from..."

"Sam Sam Sam... This has nothing to do with our dad. All of this is because of you. Because you left us alone with mom. She spent her time drinking to the point she passed out on the couch - when she was at home, which didn't happen that often. You left us alone. Do you have any idea how broken Tara was after you left? How broken I was? You were our model!"

You started to tear up. You had that on your heart for so many years, it felt good to let go.

Your girlfriend rubbed your arm, a worried expression on her face.

"You okay baby...?"

"Yeah, I'm... fine"

Richie and Amber explained their motive to the girls, before he sent her find Tara.

"She's not here!"

"What do you mean she's not here? She's can't have gone far!"

"I can't find her!"

Suddenly, you heard her scream. You got up immediately.

"You handle handle them?"

He gave you a "who do you think I am?" look. You didn't waste more time and ran to where you thought Amber was.

You found her on the floor, Tara on top of her, hitting her with her crutch. You grabbed her by the waist and pinned her to the floor, gently.

"Y/n...? You-"

Her eyes widen at the sight of the black robe you were wearing. She started to struggle against you.

"Tara- stop- please-"

You tried to keep her still. But to do so, you had you push on her abdomen. She hissed in pain. You didn't like hurting her. You felt really bad, and she should've see it in your eyes, because she stopped moving.

Amber went back into the kitchen, and you could hear her scream again. You gave a hesitant look to your sister, not sure she wouldn't move if you let go of her.

"Please don't do anything stupid... I don't want you to get hurt..."

You got up quickly and ran to the kitchen, where Gale and Sidney were fighting Amber. You stabbed Gale before she could see you and pushed her away from Amber. Her head hit the counter, and she fell on the floor.

You didn't have time to check if she was dead or not, due to your head being hit by a pan, hard. You fell on the floor and passed out almost immediately.

When you woke up, you found yourself in the back sit of Amber's car. You were alive, with a big headache, and next to you...

"Tara...?"

Her eyes were red. She cried.

"Baby? How do you feel?"

You turned to Amber, driving.

"Yeah... and you?"

"Couldn't be better! We made it baby!"

She had a wild smile on her face.

"And you...?" you asked your sister

"I lost a sister... and my friends..." she had tears in her eyes

You took her hand in yours.

"I'm... sorry... you think you can forgive me...?"

"... You're all I have left... and I love you... but... that might be hard..."

You were praying she would forgive you one day, and were decided do to all you could to make sure she would be happy in your new life.

#scream #scream 5 #amber freeman #amber freeman x reader #amber freeman x fem reader

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mumshin · 2 months

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𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑻𝑻𝒀 𝑳𝑰𝑻𝑻𝑳𝑬 𝑻𝑨̀𝑵𝑯𝑰

✰ ft; So'lek x Fem!Sarentu

✰ contains; fluff, obsessed!so'lek, mentions of murder, stalking, gore(?)

✰ na'vi translations; tánhi(star)

It was a pleasant day at the HQ as usual, humans and few na'vi including dreamwalkers were seen around doing there own duties, as well as So'lek. He had a frown embedded to his face, why? Because of you, his pretty little tánhi.

Seeing you talking with a human, billy specifically. Made his blood boil, out of the people you chose to talk it has to be Billy Nash. He sulked in jealousy as you chuckle and laugh at Billy's jokes.

Finally he stood up and walked over to them. "Oel Ngatie Kamie, Sarentu." He brought his hand to his forehead and let it down making the well known, "I see you" sign.

"Oel Ngatie Kamie, So'lek" you said with a gentle smile making So'lek's heart skip a beat in secrecy, Oh how he wished to kiss that lips of yours but as much as he wants that he knows what he's here for.

"I'm sorry to intrude your talk but I have to discuss something with Billy" He said while placing his calloused hand on the humans shoulder literary towering over the pathetic human. "Oh it's fine, So'lek. I don't mind." you said and put your attention to Billy. "See you around, bill. Hope to hear one of your jokes again." You shot a wink at him before leaving them making So'lek grin a bit.

Once So'lek made sure you were out of sight he dragged Billy in a secluded part of the HQ before looking down at them with fury and anger. "You should know what to touch what's not yours, Billy." So'lek said with evident anger as he thought what to do with this human. "Oh come on, So'lek I wasn't doing anything on them, though I didn't recalled Sarentu calling you as his mate so typically you don't belong to her"

As Billy spoke So'lek's anger was building it up and once the human stopped talking he lunched forwards grabbing ahold of it's neck, suffocating him. "You just don't know, human. Your pathetic and weak and you dare to speak to me that way. Though as Sarentu said hear once more I'll make sure they'll never hear you again."

With a firm grip on Billy's neck he broke it and dropped the lifeless body on the ground mercilessly kicking it even te see if it was still alive.

So'lek eyes we're full of anger as he saw the looked at the body, as much he would never admit he was obsessed with the Sarentu he'll do anything to make them his and his only even forcing tsaheylu.

#so'lek #avatar frontiers of pandora #afop fanfic #solek x reader #·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳mumshin's works #atwow fanfiction #avatar way of water

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eunoiathewriter · 2 years

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S. HARRINGTON X F!READER

Sypnosis: it was supposed to be the two of them, forever and always. Through everything together. But yet he is left feeling helpless and replying it all in his head.

Word Count: 0.8k

He would never have thought it would end like this. He would never have thought it would end at all. But it had. If he could, he would've turned back time and done things differently. He would have chosen differently. If he had just been even more careful that night, maybe he would not have ended up with a heart that was now broken into a million pieces. Pieces that would be too small to put together with jokes or sarcasm. His heart is in too many small pieces for friends and loved ones to try and pick them up piece by piece and glue his heart back together.

Because for the past hours, his heart had replayed and relived that moment over a trillion times. He knew that it was a memory that would never leave his mind. It would have been different if he had simply told her to stay and be safe instead of accompanying them to Starcourt. Then he wouldn't have found her laying on the floor and barely breathing as tears made their way down her cheeks and mixed with the blood from the cuts on her face. Small sobs left her as she fought to keep herself alive.

When he had found her there, the smile on his face had fallen quickly. Despite his own injuries, it was only her he had seen. As fast as he could be, he was by her side. Sat on his knees as small whimpers came from the girl. He didn't know what to do as he just sat there beside her.

She had barely even noticed his presence beside her until she rolled her head in pain and was merely distracted by his watery eyes. "Steve," she breathed. "I tried to—"

"No, no," Steve quickly hushed her as he pulled her to him. He leaned her against him, cradling her in his arms. Her breath was still unsteady and was growing weaker as time passed.

Y/N had her eyes focused on Steve as he breathed quickly with tears falling down his face. His hand that wasn't propping her up against him moved her bloodied hair out of her face and landed on her cheek.

It was quiet between them, y/n's eyes on Steve's the whole time, as Steve looked over her more times than he could count. Trying to find what to do. But there was nothing he could do, had not Billy thrown her around like a ragdoll into walls and the floor.

"I don't want to—" It suddenly became harder to breathe as she fought for oxygen to make its way to her lungs. This made Steve begin to stress again.

"Hey, hey," He brushed her cheek gingerly, still not knowing what to do. "You're okay. You'll be fine, just fine. "

His voice, however, said otherwise as it broke on him. He pulled her as close to him as he possibly could, making y/n gasp slightly in pain, but she was immediately shushed by Steve.

"I... I don't want to go," Her weak hand reached up shakily to hold his. Holding on as well as she could.

"You won't, you won't. We'll be okay. We.. we can get out of here. L-leave Hawkins behind and we'll be fine." He didn't know what to say. She was slowly slipping away from him, and she was scared. But she smiled sadly at what he'd said.

"I like.. that idea. But I'll miss the others. " It made Steve smile through the tears.

"Of course you are," He says, small, sad smile on his lips.

"But you would miss the kids more than I would." Even though her voice was now weaker than when he found her, she still spoke in a matter-of-fact tone.

Breathing then became increasingly harder; it hurt to even try and breath. As no oxygen wanted to enter her lungs and she fought for it, tears streamed down her face. But Steve quickly started to wipe them away from her face, even though his own tears fell down his face.

"Shh, it's fine. You'll be fine. I'll be here when you want to leave," He told her and began to rock back and forth with y/n still in his arms.

She could feel it. Death was slowly creeping up on her. Her eyes began to feel heavy, her head pounding still. But she never let her eyes move from looking at Steve. She wanted him to be the last thing she saw. And he was, as it seemed death had decided her suffering was enough. Taking her soul from her body and holding her as he left Steve sitting there with her now cold body. Forehead against hers as he let the tears fall onto her lifeless skin. Still rocking side to side as if to comfort himself and maybe even her.

"You'll be alright..." He reassured her even though she was no longer there with him. She was no longer there to hug him and tell him she would be just fine. He was left behind with her cold body in his arms and feeling utterly and completely helpless.

Yeah, no. I suck at angst. I'm good at writing fluff and like badass characters but ugh this shits hard. Anyway... I need ideas of what to write for this guy. Please write me some ideas y'all have.

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snowangeldotmp3 · 1 year

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kas!max mayfield

okay, this is a thought i've been rotating in my mind for a while (since vol2 dropped) and maddie (@verymuchablog42) and i were talking about the ever popular kas!eddie (which, while fun to explore, likely is not going to happen)

do you know who is the perfect candidate for a kas figure?

max mayfield.

i don't think max is out of the woods, and while it might not be an exact kas the bloody handed scenario,(i don't think the duffers would add vampires this late into the show, lol) i think we can all agree that vecna isn't done with max. yes, technically el is the one who brought her back, not vecna. but i think max is still the perfect candidate.

reason number one: she's in a coma, meaning she's basically defenseless against vecna if he were to strike again. (unless el is consistently monitoring her, which, from the looks of episode 9, she is, but still!) we know vecna/the mind flayer can possess people, and that vecna possession is way more powerful. we've seen vecna/the mind flayer possess people before, and though he's been knocked down a few pegs, he's not completely powerless. though el is the one who brought her back, vecna could be the one to give max her life back, meaning no more coma.

reason number two: the whole puppet master thing. the master of puppets is vecna, and who's the perfect puppet right now? a semi-dead girl who has a connection to el and will and the rest of the party. vecna could tear the party apart from the inside with max. (and a girl who vecna is now seemingly attached too, both with billy's possession and subsequent death, and then with max's death.)

reason number three: if we assume that max will tear the group apart from the inside, we also have to assume that she will be the one who rails against vecna with them in the end, too. because we all know max, there is no way that she wouldn't be fighting off vecna with everything she has, even while he's the only thing keeping her alive. she's going to make him pay.

reason number four: the emotional potential. god, could you imagine? not only would it break lucas and el (and the rest of the party + steve, robin, and nancy) that their best friend and girlfriend is now a puppet for the enemy, but they can't do much about it. it won't be as simple as 'play kate bush' and it saves the day.

not only that, but from max's pov, it would be emotionally devastating. 'do you accept the risk?' and this is the consequence of that risk. that tiny, seemingly insignificant acceptance, has led her to this. she didn't want to end up like billy, spent her years with him defying him the best she knew how, and yet, at the end of the day, she would have the exact same fate as him. her fate is no longer her own (has it ever been?) and she becomes the puppet for vecna's ultimate plan.

anyways, this is half me theorizing about max's s5 fate, and the other half trying to reconcile the fact that max could very well just, die. and i don't want that to happen, i want her (if she does have to go out) to go out with a bang. a 'fuck you!' to vecna, if you will. but i think if max does wake up in season 5, this is one of the routes that they could very well explore.

#max mayfield #stranger things #kas!max mayfield #again: i don't think they'd make her an exact kas figure but i think it would be very similar.#like a moment where dustin goes '...like kas! she's like kas! we could still save her! we could still win!' or some shit #of course will and el would know something's Wrong with her. and lucas too. he would know there's something distinctly Not Max about her #also sorry maddie for tagging u but now u got me thinking </3 #stranger things theory #st5 speculation #stranger things 5 #not sure what else to tag this with tbh. uh.#first flayed!robin now kas max mayfield what's next! who knows.#not i. that's for sure.#uhhhh adding some extra tags bc i don’t know how else to sort this #elmax #lumax #elumax

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lovebillyhargrove · 11 months

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Billy's Camaro fic: Fucking finally.

***

It's January 11th.

More than two weeks of absolutely nothing.

Steve called El after New Year but she sounded just as miserable as he was, and had no news for him. Unfortunately or fortunately.

Steve doesn't know anything.

It's killing him.

Robin is in on the whole thing about Hargrove and his trip to Russia with Joyce, and she listens and tells Steve everything is going to be okay, but Steve understands it's just words and this is in no-one's power to make it okay. Robin is trying to help, and he's grateful, he is, but it's not helping.

It's more than two weeks of worrying his heart out. It's like you are aware you can't really do anything or change anything, so why worry? But that's the thing - you worry anyway. Even when you're not showing it. Even when you're telling yourself it's pointless. Fear gnaws at your bones, nibbles at your brain, every second. Eats you from the inside, always lurking, always present, doing its ugly job.

What if right now when Steve's talking to a customer Billy's getting shot at?

What if right now when Steve's sorting the tapes Billy's is being locked in a cell, interrogated, tortured ..?

What if right now when Steve's listening to Robin telling him about her .. - he's losing the thread of the story because he's thinking about Billy - it all has become white noise for him - what if right this moment there is no Billy Hargrove in this world anymore?

Steve's exhausted. He can't sleep and the only crumbs of questionable comfort that he can have, he finds when he's driving the camaro. Like it understands him. Like it's as wretched as him.

At times when it gets too much, Steve thinks about their only kiss, that magical tender touch of their lips. The timing was probably not the best one, Billy being all fucked up about his dad's death and all, Steve understands that now, but at least he's got this kiss as a memory. When he recalls how El called Billy "a lovesick loser", it brings a smile to his lips. Billy must've told El about them, or maybe she just knew because of their connection now.

When it gets too dark Steve remembers Billy's voice on the phone and his words "I like you, pretty boy. More than just like you. Do not doubt that." and Steve's heart is shredded in pieces over and over again.

When he can't stand anything anymore, Steve takes out Billy's note - the one that he left on the kitchen table before driving away - and reads it. He knows every word by heart.

If he doesn't get any news in the next couple of days, he's gonna .. call Owens, drive to California, fly to Russia, he's gonna do something because that's it, he can't take it, he's on the verge of insanity.

Waiting is the worst.

Not knowing is the absolute fucking worst.

Steve smokes a cigarette for lunch sitting in the camaro, parked outside Family Video. Looks at the picture of the ocean that's still in the glove box and misses Billy more.

If it is even possible.

***

The bell above the door jingles, announcing a new customer.

It's five in the afternoon, still one hour till Steve can go home. He's never in a hurry to leave work these days though. He's lonely as fuck here, but at least not physically alone.

Someone's heading towards the cash desk where Steve is sorting out the receipts.

Steve feels a shift in the air surrounding him and hears Robin's quiet "Oh my god" coming from behind.

He's raising his eyes and sees Billy in front of him.

Billy is alive.

He is back.

He looks so good.

"Hey, Harrington."

Did his heart just stop beating, or what?

All casual. Like they saw each other only yesterday. Like he didn't come back from another country, breaking someone from prison.

Like Steve didn't die inside every single second for the last fucking month.

Just the eyes. Hargrove's eyes are piercing Steve. Billy's looking at Steve like he hasn't seen him for a lifetime.

At the same time Keith, who has come out of his room right this moment, is staring at Billy like he's seeing a ghost.

Billy Hargrove is still dead in the town of Hawkins. Everyone knows about Starcourt, everyone has read the newspapers.

Billy's smile is light and bright, and he's addressing Keith, in that languid drawl that only he does.

"Relax, dude. I'm the dead guy's twin brother, straight from California. Name's Billy. Billy Hargrove."

Stretches his hand out for a handshake. Keith is holding a packet of chips in his left hand, and a chip in his right hand, halfway to his mouth.

Billy's smacking him on the shoulder instead of the handshake then.

"Yeah, it's the same name, don't ask. Parents were fucked up. Hi, Buckley."

It's a sight, Keith's and Robin's shocked faces.

Too bad Steve can't see his own face. He probably looks as dumb as they do.

Keith keeps staring at Hargrove with his mouth open still holding a chip in his hand when Billy says

"Oh and Keith ? I'm sure you won't mind if Harrington here finished his work for today? See I've been driving like a madman for the last 33 hours and I'd really appreciate it if you let him get off early? Got something to discuss."

Before Keith answers anything, Billy's gesturing towards the door

"Shall we?"

Oh, we shall.

We motherfucking shall.

Steve can't feel his legs when he's walking out of the door. His whole body is tingling, there are waves of electroshocks running through it. He doesn't fully realise how, but he finds himself in the driver's seat of the camaro, and Billy's sitting to his right. Steve thinks he sees his beamer parked across the street, but he's not sure.

Steve wants to ask so many questions. But he's not asking them. He was taken by surprise and left speechless.

He starts the car, and it roars. Like it's happy to see Billy.

Is Billy not mad at the camaro any more?

Steve wants to know. He still hasn't asked a single question.

Hargrove opens the glove box and takes out a cigarette from the packet of Marlboros. Lights it up, inhales, eyelashes fluttering. Doesn't say a word either.

What the fuck is wrong with them both?

Believe it or not, buy they drive to Harrington's house in complete silence. Only the car is the one that's actually rumbling excitedly, but Steve ..? Very focused on the road. No, he's not, it's a lie. The camaro is basically driving by itself. Steve would be in a ditch by now, if he were in control.

Billy? .. chain smoking that Marlboro pack, fingers shaking slightly.

They stop in the driveway, get out of the car. Steve's body is still tingling and most things that he does right now, are done on autopilot. They go to the door, Steve's jingling the keys, they get inside.

Billy first, then Steve, and when he closes the door behind him, he's leaning on it with his back and waits, still silent. Thoughts all fuzzy.

Hargrove turns around and moves closer to Steve.

Closer, just like Steve did, a month ago, when their lips brushed like feather on feather.

Steve grabs Hargrove's jacket, pulls him in a hug, and their bodies collide, and he's hugging him tighter, tighter, impossibly tight

Never leave

Steve's arms are on Billy's shoulders and he hides his face in Billy's neck and inhales his smell, cigarettes, sweat, cologne, exhaustion, the guy has been on the road for the last 33 hours, and holds his breath

No, he actually can't breathe, they are holding each other too tight

And Steve's feeling his eyes burn like there are tears about to spill, like he's about to cry

Instead, he places his hands on Hargrove's chest and pushes him away

And then Steve swings, blindly, but aiming for Hargrove's pretty face, and next thing he knows Hargrove is looking at him with wild eyes, incredulously, pressing fingers to his lips because the lower lip is bleeding

"Sonuvabitch .. You fucking hit me, Harrington ??"

"Well you fucking left me!!"

"I had to!!"

"I know! You could've explained everything instead of just running, you fucking asshole !!"

Both are breathing heavy. Both are staring at each other with frenzied eyes

Billy takes the volume down a notch.

"Steeve .. "

There it is again, the Steeve that makes Harrington wobbly in the knees, makes him lose his heartbeat

"Okay, I admit, I can be a bit of a drama queen. The way I left .. I should've told you the whole story .. but I didn't think about it at the time. Also, there was no story to tell, it was just something .. vague at that point."

Steve's still standing with his back pressed to the door, and Billy's again getting closer

"Okay. You're right. I am an asshole. What are you gonna do about it, Harrington?"

Voice hoarse and dangerous.

Steve does the only thing that seems right.

He yanks Billy by the jacket again, pulls him close, forcefully, and presses his lips to Billy's. It's teeth clashing to the point of blood on both of their lips

It's also something else

"Ow my nose! Fuck !! .."

The collision was a bit too intense

"Slow down, Hargrove !! You head butted my nose!"

"YOU grabbed me! You set the pace!"

"Yeah and I'm telling you to slow down now!"

Billy's hands are cupping Steve's cheeks

"Is your nose okay?"

There's probably blood

"It just hurts .. a little. I'm fine."

"Then stop whining and shut up already."

"No, you shut up."

"No, I need you to shut up right now."

Billy's putting his lips on Steve's mouth but Steve's still talking

"You're such an asshole, Hargrove, it's unbelievable. You should just leave me alone."

"I'm an asshole, Harrington. But I'm working on that."

"No, you're not."

Is Billy smiling?

"No, I'm not."

Their foreheads are pressed together

Billy's eyelashes are too much. Steve can't cope

"Close your stupid mouth or I'll hit you again."

"Okay, hit me again."

"Stop repeating everything I say."

"I will repeat if I want to. Unless you make me stop."

Steve puts his arms around Billy's waist but, apparently, touches him in the wrong place because

"Ow. Shit. Easy."

Billy's suddenly wincing with pain and grabbing his side

"I uh .. I got shot. Lucky though, the bullet went right through, but it still .. uughhh .. shit .."

Oh god, he did actually get shot ..

"Oh my god, why .. are you wounded ?? I hit a wounded guy, oh god, I'm so sorry, are you in pain, should we go to hospital? I'm so sorry! Billy?"

"Harrington, I'm fine. Stop fucking saying sorry, just let me kiss you already."

Billy firmly holds the back of Steve's neck with one hand and finally finally kisses him in a way that feels like a proper kiss, no pushing or pulling, no teeth clanging, no headbutting. No talking. Billy's mouth is so hot, he's licking into Steve's with his hot wet tongue, insistent and urgent but so so tender.

He also places his other hand on Steve's crotch and squeezes gently.

The sensation that jolts like lightning through every cell of Steve's body is unparalleled.

He's probably dead now.

So if you happen to find a pile of ashes on this very spot instead of Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove is the one to blame.

***

Next chapter. Tying loose ends.

#billy's camaro #billy's camaro fic #harringrove #billy x steve #harringrove fic

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brandnewhuman · 2 years

Note

Hello, I love your work I would like to make an arrange if possible, if not, it doesn't matter, I would like to know how Michael Myers, Jason Voorhes Thomas Hewitt billy Lenz Yautja and Vincent Sinclair would react to the death of their s/o after giving birth to their son

PAINFUL ANGST HOURS

☆STARRING☆

☆Michael Myers☆

☆Jason Voorhees☆

☆Thomas Hewitt☆

CONTENT:

Tw: childbirth, blood, you die so basically that's pretty bad too, there's Michael that is a whole tw by himself, canon violence, mature language, reader is afab, mention of murdering the kid but everyone ends up behaving so dw

A/N: hiyaaaa thank you for your request. Unfortunately I don't write billy lenz or yautja and I had to take out Vincent cause otherwise it would've been too long. but I hope you still like this. Once again children are ruining my life smh.. jokes aside, this one will not have jokes. Sorry lads, I know I'm pretty funny but IT'S PAIN TIME AND YOU ALL WILL TAKE IT LIKE CHAMPS.

MICHAEL MYERS:

He was not happy when you told him, he's certainly not taking it any better now

Michael is not a family man by any means and he has made that clear multiple times

One may think he's just being unfair but actually is fear that it's eating him alive when thinking about having kids

What if they end up being like me? What if they end up being hurt by people who don't like me? What if I end up hurting them?

But most importantly, what if because of them He ends up losing you?

You're the only nice thing he has in his life, the only one he has managed to protect and keep alive despite everyone saying he wasn't capable of caring or love.

So the thought of losing you just for something that he doesn't even wants here in the first place is just annoyingly upsetting

For the same reason of not losing you though he had to accept you were keeping that thing and all the consequences coming from it

Michael always takes pride in being good at reading people and everything in this pregnancy was screaming danger for you to him

But you looked so happy even if you started to grow weaker and weaker as time went by

Seeing you literally withering away was driving him mad.

He actually felt so consumed by the overwhelming feeling of losing you without being able to stop that he tried to distance himself

But that only made things worse as he realised that he has just done something he would never be able to make up to you or forgive himself for

He was furious. The shape of haddonfield was shaking as blinding rage consumed his mind while his normally slow and composed walk was sped up as much as he could without getting lightheaded, marching his way towards the hospital. He couldn't afford to get dizzy right now, he has to get to you first and then he would allow his body to experience its typical annoying human malfunctioning.

How could he have let this happen? He was angry at every single thing existing on this earth right now. He was angry at you for keeping that… thing, he was mad at the life inside you for hurting you, he was mad at himself for trying to erase you out of his life right when he should have been there for you. He hasn't felt this type of anger, never something has mattered so much to him to bring out such a big reaction.

He saw the ambulance at your house and just knew that something happened, that what is inside you was actively trying to tear you apart from his side. He didn't even put on his mask, trusting the night shadows to hide his face enough instead. He knew the mask would just alert everyone inside the hospital and right now he didn't want to deal with any of that.

He needs to see you, to use his voice for once to say his sorry for leaving you alone.

He made his way inside the hospital and fighting against every fibre of his being he forced his vocal cords to ask the nurse about you.

As soon as he saw that look in her face he knew. It's a cliché but he did feel like the world was slowing down by the second, his mind panicked and started running away from the situation filling his brain with questions that were not relevant to what was happening.

A small part of him pondered to him if this is what his victim's relatives feel like when they get told their loved ones had been killed by someone they couldn't stop.

For a moment he thought it was the same feeling but then he realised it wasn't. It will never be the same; they felt sadness and confusion at the unfairness of the situation, he felt an intoxicating craving of violence,the need to get on his hands the blood of who did it and the blind determination in taking his life without mercy. He felt the wrath of the whole world inside him and there was nothing that could stop him from what he wanted to do about it.

He recalls hearing himself say 'I want to see them' and then seeing the nurse nodding and motion at him to follow her. If it was a different moment he would have found pretty funny how clueless everyone was about his true identity.

He felt like he had been walking for years as he followed the woman to where you were. And then suddenly you were there in front of him.

Everything became so fast again that he had to take a deep breath to stop his head from spinning.

He has seen so many dead bodies in his life, most of them being because of him, but nothing was like this.

You were so still and pale, it was like you were just sleeping but there was no movement from your chest to indicate you were breathing. He couldn't even explain how he was able to get near you but he did and he regretted it almost instantly. He expected you to be different, to feel different to him as he watched your body but it was all still the same. Everything was still there, it's just that the most important part of you was gone and he couldn't bring it back. You left behind this thing that looked like you but it would never smile,talk or touch him and his brain was making everything more difficult because it refused to understand that you were not inside that body anymore, that it wasn't you and that there was nothing left for him to love or care for.

His tears are unnecessary because only him, now alone in the room, was feeling them.

How could you do this? How could you leave him behind like this? Every single thought crashed one against the other, half of them coming from the guilt of knowing that this was his fault that he ended up fulfilling the expectations casted upon him, the other half was full of resentment towards you and the choice you decided to take that has now cost him and you everything.

His breaths were shaky as he cried silently, watching every single tear hit your cold skin. He tried to take your hand but he hated how he was trembling more and more as he approached your fingers.

He needs to get out of there, he needs to stop the tsunami of overwhelming feelings that are trying to drown him but most importantly he wants to find that…thing and erase it from existence.

The nurse was waiting outside for him and apparently you must've told everyone you were expecting the father of the baby to show up eventually cause she asked him if he wanted to see the baby. Of course he wanted, there was nothing he wanted more than to look at that monstrosity in the eyes as he snatched life out of its little body.

He waited patiently in the corridor for the nurse to get back, nothing was important to him anymore. He didn't had anyone who waited for him at home and no other victim was more important that the infant you had stupidly brought here, giving it a death sentence as it's first and last gift from life. Only when he would be able to see life leaving its body his inner peace would somewhat be restored and he could allow himself to forget about you.

"Here it is..your partner wanted to call her Audrey, they say you would've liked to know" he almost found difficulty in hearing her words as they were whispered so softly he had to pay extra attention to understand what she was saying.

The nurse ever so gently placed the small bundle of blankets, where Audrey was sleeping, in Michael's arms. Oblivious to the murderous intentions of the newly father and mistaking his shaky form and trembling breaths of fury for excitement.

He stared at her leaving until he was sure she was out of sight and then his gaze snapped towards the baby. Glossy eyes full of anger as he eyed his not for long daughter.

It would be so easy to do, there were so many options…a squeeze too tight, a twist at her little head until the neck snapped or maybe even drop her hard enough

Every option seemed so tempting and fun until she opened her eyes. He almost felt like her eyes were boring into his soul, forcing any violent thought out of his mind. He couldn't even take his eyes away or fight against it.

His mind tried to remind him of how unfair it was that she was alive and you were not, that THIS was something he did that killed even when he promised he would never hurt you

With new found strength he slowly lifted her to his eye level, preparing to throw her hard against the ground but then he looked into her eyes again. The same understanding look that you always had for him, Audrey held it in her gaze too. His whole body was now shaking, his jaw clenching in frustration and almost desperation and now violent sobs found their way out of his mouth.

He couldn't do it and deep inside he knew it the whole time. Audrey looked at his father as he just slowly pulled her closer to cradle her surprisingly carefully against his chest. He kneeled on the ground as his legs began to give up under the crushing weight of the shame he was feeling about what he just tried to do.

She was now the only thing he had left of you and the only thing he did was treat her like everyone has treated him: with cold and unfair judgement, putting the blame of all the evil in this world on her who was guilty only of surviving.

He dared to take another look at her and through his tears he could only see her and how she looked like you. The relief washed over him at the knowledge that not one bit of him was there to be found in her face and, even if impossible to believe, in her soul. He just knew, he could feel it inside, she had all the best parts of you. Only now your choice made sense, you must have known from the start all of this.

He missed you much and it wasn't even that long since you were gone. Every overwhelming feeling he had before was now coming back as Audrey locked her eyes with his. He wanted so hard to hate her, she took you away from him but somehow she has managed to crush him and his brutal resolution down.

He never wanted this to happen, he was just scared and now he has to live with the fact that he was right about being scared. The only thing left for him is something as fragile as you were and now he has to take care of it. He wants to take care of it cause it's yours and if you're not coming back and he can't follow you then Audrey would have to stay in his life.

"I'm…sorry Audrey" his voice was so soft and so gentle, shaken by another round of tears, that for a moment he thought it was someone else talking.

That night he came back home to no one, gently carrying a small being as if it was the most precious thing in the world. He stayed up all night watching her sleep, afraid that if he closed his eyes she would disappear too.

JASON VOORHEES

I think this will be something Jason will forever beat himself for.

He was so excited to be a dad and everything was going so well that he literally ignored all the signs of what was really going to happen

Jason ha never allowed himself to get distracted so much he can't see if there's upcoming danger

As soon as you told him you were pregnant all he could think about was how euphoric he felt

For once he just felt like a normal man with a normal life, making plans and getting excited for small things with you

He should've known that all of that wasn't real and he should've paid more attention

It was so subtle that he wasn't even sure when things started to get bad

He just assumed and naively thought that you feeling this weak and having all this health issues was normal

Deep down he knew it wasn't but the reality of losing the only person he has left in the world it's too much

He tried so bad to do anything he could to help but in the end he knew you had to go to the hospital, even pam was telling him so

He went to the hospital with you, he even got inside and if it wasn't such a terrible moment he would be happy about being able to experience this part as a normal man too

Not even the feeling exposed without his masks was taking his mind off his concern about your wellbeing

He could feel you were slipping away through his fingers and he couldn't do anything.

He waited in a corridor for what felt like years when it was only hours.

Even now as he knew perfectly well what was going to happen he still held hope you would still be there

He promised to himself that if he had one more chance he would be more careful and would do everything right before letting things get this bad

That hope stayed with him as they brought him to see through that glass his daughter.

She was perfect, she was all Jason imagine something would be if it was made by you and he just knew that, that tiny thing sleeping peacefully in front of him was going to be the only good thing he has ever done in this world

His hand was placed on the glass as he watched the little girl stirr in her dream and do a big stretch, it was the most mesmerising thing to watch.

It was the same warm and wholesome feeling he had when he first met you.

He couldn't tear his eyes apart from her, not even when the nurse told him you didn't make it

She was the only thing keeping him together and he was 100% that if he stopped looking at her everything would crumbled down and he wouldn't be able to recover from it

Eventually it all fell upon him and when the realisation catched upon him it was the most devastating feeling he has ever felt.

Even looking at the baby now felt wrong, he felt wrong

He did this to you and nothing would ever fix it

He would never be able to say sorry or to see you again and he didn't even wanted to see your body cause at least if he didn't acknowledge there was still that part of you left then it would be more easy to think of you as…gone

But it wasn't easy, it wasn't even just hard it was downright painful and the guilt was eating at him alive

At some point he must have sat down cause he was now on the floor with his back leaning on the wall.

How was he supposed to take care of her if he couldn't even take care of you in the first place?

You were supposed to be there, to see her too.

He felt good enough for it just because you were there, cause you made him feel good but now that you're gone, that the best part of his life and the only good thing he had is not going to be there anymore, all that is left is him and his flaws and faults.

He isn't the good one, you were and the fact that you died instead of him was a mistake.

As he came back to cabin, holding the baby close to him, he felt like nothing of what happened was real

He would not be able to attend your funeral, not because of anything in particular but because he couldn't bring himself to see you like that

Plus he now had this small thing to take care of

She was just looking at Jason with such intensity and fascination, clueless about all that was going on around her

Unaware that she was looking at the one who caused the death of the person who brought her here.

The grief never got better.

Everyday he wakes up and for a second his mind tricks him into thinking you're still here but you're not and it's something that would never stop being painful

The worst part is just waking up every single day with the knowledge of what he has done and having to live with it day after day

Though when he gets to see his baby all of that matters less and gets pushed to the back of his mind

He hasn't had the time to ask you so many things about how he should do this but now he just had to figure it out with or without anyone's help

The only thing he knew is that nothing in this earth and nothing of what has happened could make him hate the baby

He would never be able to look at her and feel anger or resentment, she was the only good thing left. The second chance of doing it right if you will and even if it wasn't she was just a baby, his baby. That was enough to be worthy of Jason's love and forgiveness

THOMAS HEWITT:

Oh god, Thomas is having none of this

Especially since it could've go everything right if it wasn't for hoyt

Since the first day you both knew you would become parents he was on cloud 9

He couldn't remember be this happy in years and it was all thanks to you and your future child

He didn't let you lift a single finger, he and luda made sure you had always all you needed and that you stayed healthy and safe

If you were too tired he was immediately by your side guiding you to the room so you could rest. If you were hungry luda was by your side in a second with a snack

Every was going so well and it only seemed to get better and better

Every night he stayed up late to finish the baby's room and when he was with you he would spend the time making plans, choosing names ecc

Nothing in this world mattered more to him than his family

In fact he was even taking in consideration to stop all the killing. He knew first hand what that type of consequences would come out of being exposed to so much violence from such young age and he didn't want his child to grow up like that

He wanted to be a good person for the baby, someone they could be proud of one day

Hoyt however wasn't that happy with the choices Thomas wanted to make

Everyone in that house knew that even if Hoyt always liked to say he was in charge the one who actually was is Thomas. If he didn't want to do something then no one would move him from his decision

And now that even luda mae was on Thomas side with it hoyt was just boiling with anger

He wouldn't allow Thomas to "ruin" the family just for a baby

So when the day came for you to give birth and you started to feel sick and losing blood out of nowhere Hoyt just swear that they could take care of it in the house

That there wasn't anymore time and that if they brought to a hospital you would probably either lose the baby or bleed to death

Thomas, seeing that ever so reluctantly luda agreed with hoyt, he believed it.

That was his only mistake, believe that hoyt would actually help him

Needless to say that for the first time Thomas was not going to let it pass

He felt so tired, he has never been so exhausted in his entire life. And he should know that since he has always been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

It was not that type of tiredness that came from working too much or the lack of sleep. It was like something has drained your vital energy out of you, like even your soul is too heavy now. And even if all he wanted right now was to close his eyes and never wake up he couldn't, the images that had been burned into his brain forced him to shoot his eyes open before feeling sick.

All that red, all that blood everywhere and anywhere. Blood that shouldn't even be out at all surrounding your too still body. How on earth did he let this happen?

He tried to push every thought back as he cradled his baby close to his chest. He just wanted to have one happy moment before having to face what has happened to you and what the consequences would be.

He didn't let anyone go near him or the baby, not even luda mae. He was sitting on a chair in his room, his clothes still covered in your blood, his mask off because otherwise he wouldn't be able to breathe. His hands were carefully holding the baby as best he could, it was so small that Thomas feared breaking him with any sudden movement but didn't find it within himself to not keep him close

He was furious with all of them. Every time they tried to get close to him or the baby he recoiled from their touch glaring at them a silent threat to stay away. How could they even think he would allow them to go near his son after what they have done to you? He has never in his life questioned or resented any of his family members, not even when they treated him as less than a guard dog. He has always protected them and given away his life and own happiness for their safety and comfort. God knows he has done anything for them, he has turned himself into the monster he didn't want to be just to keep them alive. And the only time he needed their help, he wanted to save something that made him happy, they decided to do this atrocity.

He didn't even had the fucking time to react, to do anything that you were already gone. He had to see you bleed to death, suffer and be scared as you held onto his chest begging to save you or to make it stop. He wanted to do something but they kept saying that it was too late, that you needed to stay there. He had to watch you die when he knew perfectly you could've been saved if you were brought to a hospital. It wasn't even that fucking far, it would've take less time than it took for you to die.

The only thing keeping him from following you was the baby. A beautiful boy who was just perfect and was unaware of all the atrocities around him. It was the only thing from you he could save, he wasn't going to let anyone hurt him.

He always thought that his family treatment towards him was just rough love, that he was safe with them. He believed every word they said when they tried to gaslight him into thinking there was no better way to live for him than this, that this is all he had. He didn't want to listen when you told him things could change, that he could do better and have something more. You always believed in him and his worth and he should've known you were right. They were only using him and now you have paid the price of this all.

This was gonna be the last time he would let anyone hurt someone he loves, the last time he would anyone use him this way.

His thoughts kept racing as he stared down at the baby rocking him left and right softly to keep him calm. He couldn't stop his mind from spinning to think about what to do. He couldn't hurt them, even after all of this he couldn't find it within him to do anything against them. That didn't mean he could stay with them either, not after this, not knowing they could do something to his child.

How is he supposed to do this now without you? You should've been here with him, planning your future as a family.

He felt so..alone. He has nothing left beside the baby and he's so scared of messing up that too. Like you could say he's used to being alone but since he had you by his side everything felt less empty, he felt like he had somewhere to fit in. And now it was all gone, all but this small thing sleeping in his arms. Looking at him Thomas knew that his devotion and loyalty towards his family had come to an end when they decided to put his own about to be family in danger, now all that loyalty was only for his son. And nothing would come between him and giving his son a life he deserves, he won't let that happen again.

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imagine-you · 2 years

Text

in the midnight hour [billy hargrove/reader]

prompt: billy hargrove + demon + "did you think they could protect you?"

author's note: written for the hellfire haunts challenge hosted by @cryptidcasanova

word count: 5.4k

No one would tell you the truth.

Not Nancy Wheeler or Jonathan Byers or Dustin Henderson. Not Max Mayfield or Robin Buckley or any of the other kids who were there when it happened.

Not even Steve would look you in the eye and tell you how your boyfriend really died.

And that, right there, was what hurt most of all. Because if your own brother couldn't be honest with you, then who could you expect to really tell you the truth?

For months, you tried to uncover the mystery of the tragedy of Starcourt Mall. A lot of people had died including Chief Hopper and your boyfriend. The fact that Billy would never return to you seemed like something only your mind would come up with in your darkest nightmares. And yet, it was the reality you were faced with every day after that fateful night.

You didn't quite believe the story about there being a fire at the mall and it didn't make sense that Billy's body couldn't be recovered, because it was missing from the wreckage.

You knew it was bullshit. You knew, deep down to your very core, that something more sinister had happened at the mall the night Billy died. And you knew that it was your fault he was dead.

If you hadn't fought with him, if you hadn't told him you needed a little space, if you hadn't ignored his odd behavior in the days leading up to his death, then maybe he would still be alive. Maybe you would have dragged him to the Fourth of July celebration in town, even though Billy thought it was dumb, and you could have spent the night coaxing Billy onto rides and kissing him when the Ferris wheel stopped at the top, enjoying the sounds of everyone's laughter and fun.

But no, instead, you had woken up the morning after, deciding to try to make things right with Billy, only to find out that you would never speak to him again.

You had always hated living in a small town like Hawkins. When you went away to college in the fall of ‘84, you never wanted to come home, but Steve had convinced you a summer in Hawkins was what you needed to shake off the stress of your freshman year. You had grumbled and groaned, but you couldn't deny you missed your little brother, so once your last final was over in early May, you made the trip back home.

You hadn't expected much to have changed about the town. You had only been gone a year and while Steve had told you about the crazy shit happening, including the circumstances surrounding the disappearance and death of Barbara Holland, you hadn't expected Billy Hargrove.

He was bold and brash and kind of obnoxious, but he had no problem at all making you fall for him. His charm and playful smirks were one thing, but once you went out on one date and then another, you started to see the real Billy behind the mask.

You spent a month and a half sneaking out to meet him, trying not to be so blatant about it when you realized your brother hated Billy. You didn't know their history, and it wasn't until Steve told you about the terrible things that had happened with Billy in the fall of '84 that you began to realize why.

Your fight in late June with Steve over Billy had turned into a fight with Billy over Steve.

"You terrorized those children," you accused, anger and indignation rising within you. "You could have killed my brother!"

"Look, I was messed up, alright? I was angry and I didn't want to be here, and I took it out on everyone except the one person who deserved it. It's not who I am anymore, though. You know that."

You knew Billy was talking about Neil. He hated his stepfather with everything in him, and while you knew Billy wasn't quite the troublemaker he used to be, it still didn't cover the hurt and guilt you felt over dating the guy who had once beaten your brother into a bloody mess.

"I l--," you cut yourself off, redirecting, "I like you a lot, Billy. You know that. But I just need some time. To think," you clarified. "I still want to be with you, I just..."

"C'mon, Y/N," Billy pleaded. "I'll apologize to your brother and those little punks, alright? I just want--" Billy abruptly stopped talking, defeat slipping into his tone. "Just let me know when you want to talk again," he sighed. "You know where to find me."

And with that, he had turned and walked right out of your life. You had tried calling him and visiting him at the pool in the days after the fight, but it seemed like he was nowhere to be found. Up until the day he died, Billy had practically turned into a ghost, determined to stay off your radar of existence. You were worried he was ignoring you and you wanted nothing more than to go back to that moment you had your fight and try to fix things instead of trying to run away from the problem.

The guilt ate away at you and tore you to shreds. You dreamt of Billy every night. The way he looked before he walked away from you. The slump of his shoulders, betraying the defeat he felt. The heartbreak written into every line of his expression and the way he glanced at you just once more before getting into his car and driving away.

None of it made sense, and the more time passed, the worse you felt.

It seemed as if life in Hawkins moved on, but you couldn't. Your parents thought you were being overdramatic over a boy you barely knew and you didn't know how to make them understand that you did know him.

You spent hours with Billy every night for over a month talking. He would drive out to pick you up from your house and then he would take a leisurely tour around town before finally stopping at the quarry. Billy would grab a blanket from the trunk of his car and spread it out over the hood of his Camaro. You would spend the rest of the night making up stories about constellations and confessing things you thought you never would to Billy.

He told you about his family and his mom and how her abandonment of him still got to him. He talked about how much he hated his dad and how he couldn't wait until he made enough money to either get back to California or at the very least move out of his dad's house. You told him about your inattentive parents and how your family mainly consisted of your brother, the both of you accepting your parent's money when they couldn't spare you any love.

You fell fast and hard for Billy, singing along to the radio as he sped along the winding, twisting backroads of Hawkins, both of you yelling lyrics and sharing delighted grins. You loved seeing Billy letting everything go and being carefree for once. He was a ladies' man and a party magnet, but you knew it was all a facade. Billy was his truest self with you on those night rides, bobbing his head along to Billy Idol and turning into a total goof just for you.

In the midnight hour, she cried he would sing, before pretending to hold a microphone out to you.

More, more, more, you would finish, sharing an amused laugh with Billy.

With a rebel yell, she cried he would prompt, getting another more, more, more out of you.

It hurt to think you would never have another moment like that and it was soul crushing to know that the one person you had trusted for almost your whole life, the one person you thought had your back no matter what, was hiding something from you.

For months, you searched for any clues that would tell you about what happened at Starcourt, but it was as if the building never existed in the first place. You were so consumed by guilt and despair that you dropped out of college, electing to stay in Hawkins. Steve was worried about you, and while your parents didn't even seem to notice you were still around, Steve tried to get you to talk about what was going on.

But you couldn't trust him, and that only added another burden on you.

You had tried, once, to get Steve to talk about what happened at the mall on the Fourth of July. But he claimed he didn't know. And while his performance might have fooled anyone else, you knew your brother better than anyone else.

Steve was lying to you.

And that absolutely destroyed you.

You blamed yourself. You thought maybe Steve held resentment towards you for dating Billy. He hated Billy and you dated Billy even holding onto that knowledge. You had lost Billy and you had lost Steve and now it felt like you truly had no one but yourself.

Months passed and by the time spring was approaching in '86, you were a shell of your former self.

You were plagued by nightmares and phantom voices. You swore you were starting to see things and you started suffering through massive, brain-melting headaches that made your nose bleed. You were half-convinced you were dying, and you did your best to hide everything from Steve. He would only worry and while you didn't fully forgive Steve for hiding the truth from you, you still loved him more than anyone else on the planet.

One night in late March, you woke screaming from a nightmare, phantom hands pressing you into the bed, claws ripping into your skin.

Your suffering is almost at an end echoed in your mind, the chimes of a grandfather clock ringing in your bones.

"Y/N?" Steve's voice shattered the silence. "What's going on?"

You looked up to see Steve standing in your bedroom doorway, a bat held aloft in his hands, as if ready to fend off your attackers. Seeing Steve ready to come to your defense broke something inside of you and soon you were wracked with sobs and useless pleas to make it all stop.

It took hours, but Steve finally got you to talk. He sat on the edge of your bed, worry etched into every line of his face, as he listened to you sputter out meaningless sentences before you finally confessed.

The guilt and the pain and the agonizing certainty that it was shredding you to pieces on the inside.

The nightmares and the voices and the hallucinations and the absolute torment your own mind was subjecting you to.

You thought Steve would think you were crazy or deluded or just plain stupid.

Instead, he looked panic-stricken for a moment before he practically jumped off your bed in his haste to get up.

"Shit," he hissed before fleeing your room.

That wasn't the reaction you were expecting. Before you could think better of it, you clambered out of your bed and followed him.

You found him in his room, already pacing the floor, phone to his ear. "I'm telling you, Nance--," he cut himself off when he noticed you standing in his doorway. "Just call the others, alright?" He hung the phone up before turning to look at you. He grabbed his jacket from where it was folded over the arm of the chair near his bed and threw it at you.

"Come on," he said, ushering you towards the door.

"What? Steve," you tried to protest, but he had a hand around your arm and didn't seem keen on stopping for anything. "Where are we going?" You asked as you awkwardly pulled on his jacket, managing to finally wrest your arm away from him, but grateful for the warmth in the chill of the upstairs hallway. "I'm not dressed to even go anywhere," you pointed out, looking down at your pajama pants with the pink and grey bunnies on them.

"Don't worry about that," Steve argued, hurrying you along. "We've got to go to Nance's house. Just...trust me, alright?"

You nearly froze at the words, because that was the problem, wasn't it? You weren't sure if you could trust Steve. Except, he sounded so sincere and you knew just from one look at him that whatever had gotten into him was important.

"Okay," you conceded with a nod of your head. "Let's go."

You weren't prepared for the crowd that greeted you in the basement of the Wheeler house. Nancy was expected, and while you didn’t see Mike, you drew short at the sight of Max, Dustin, Lucas, and Robin. They were all sitting around the room, waiting for you and Steve to show up, and you suddenly felt unsure that you had made the right choice.

"What's going on?" You looked to Steve, your only anchor keeping you rooted to your spot while wave after wave of fear threatened to take you down. "I don't understand..."

"It's going to sound crazy," Steve started, ushering you into an armchair. "But what we're about to tell you is one hundred percent real, and I know it's not going to make a lot of sense, but Y/N..." he trailed off, looking helplessly to the others.

"Your life is in danger," Nancy finished for your brother.

An hour later, you still couldn't make sense of all the information they had piled on you. You had finally learned the truth about Billy's death and it was far more gruesome than you could have ever imagined. Despite finally knowing what fate had befallen your boyfriend, you still felt an immense wave of guilt threatening to tear you down.

If you had never fought.

If you had never asked for space.

If you had never left him alone.

Maybe Billy wouldn't have been taken. Maybe he wouldn’t have been at the mall that night. Maybe he would still be alive.

It was all your fault.

They also explained that your increasingly vivid nightmares and hallucinations and migraines were all symptoms that you were being marked for death by a monster they called Vecna. Vecna had already taken two people and you were likely next up on the list. They didn't yet have any idea about what to do to stop Vecna, but they would figure it out.

They promised.

Nancy and Robin were investigating a lead while you stayed in the basement of the Wheeler's with Steve and the kids. You felt restless and cooped up in the room, so you finally managed to convince Steve to drive you to the junkyard where Billy's Camaro was kept. It had been broken beyond repair, but it held some of your most precious memories with Billy. You paid the guy who owned the place to keep him from trashing it every month just so you could visit it and sit in the backseat, trying to make sense of where your life had gone so completely wrong.

It was the only place you wanted to be in that moment and while Steve swore up and down that going anywhere was a bad idea, you didn't care.

By the time you got to the junkyard, a migraine clawing at your temples, you were eager to see the Camaro again. It had been your only source of peace for months and you felt like it was the one place you could truly be safe.

You waved Steve off when he tried to join you, wanting to be alone in what might be your final moments.

You pulled open the door to the backseat, letting a wave of heat escape. You wanted to go back in time so badly you could hardly stand it. You could feel pain throbbing at your temples and a wet trickle of what you suspected was blood beginning to drip from your nose. You hastily wiped away the blood, jumping at the sound of a voice right behind you.

"You shouldn't be here."

You whirled around, breath caught in your throat, at the sight of Billy standing there.

"Billy," you gasped, taking a shocked step closer to him. "You're hurt," you said, hating that there were a million other responses milling around your brain, but that was the one that won the fight.

He had blood pouring from a gaping hole in his chest, there were rips in his clothes and scratches all along his arms. There was something off about him, but you were so relieved to see him that you blatantly ignored all the warning signs.

A sick, wicked grin appeared on Billy's face and a dark chuckle escaped his mouth. "Hurt? I'm dead," his voice echoed all around you. A bolt of lightning split the air, turning the sky from blue to red in an instant. "And it's all your fault. You weren't there for me--"

"No," you denied, knowing that it was what you had been thinking for months, but it hurt even more hearing it come right from Billy. "Billy, I lo-lov--"

"You what? Loved me?" Billy scoffed, stalking closer to you. "If you loved me, then you wouldn't have done this to me." With another flash of lightning, the visage of Billy in front of you was replaced with an even more horrifying version of him. He had flesh hanging from his bones and maggots crawling out of his ears. His teeth were bared, brittle and flaking, as he approached you. His eyes were hollowed out, blank spaces where he no longer had a soul. "If you loved me, then you wouldn't have left me."

You gasped when he took a staggering step towards you and your back hit the side of the Camaro. Fog crept along the ground, curling around your feet, and rising higher. Everything was tinged in red and you could feel your heart pounding wildly in your chest.

"Don't worry," Billy's voice grew deeper, taunting. "Your suffering is almost at an end."

Those words finally broke the spell that Vecna had over you. It all came crashing down on you, the reminder that Billy was dead and not here with you. That Vecna was haunting you, intent on claiming you as one of his victims.

You pressed yourself flat against the side of the car before hurriedly stepping to the side, keeping an eye on Vecna. Between one flash of lightning and the next, Billy was no longer standing before you, replaced with Vecna. He looked as if he had been wrapped in roots and vines, his skin scarred and decaying. His eyes were white and striking, freezing you in his sight. His left hand was curled into an elongated claw, terrifying and deadly.

When he took a step closer to you, you finally managed to break yourself out of the trance he held you in. You turned and ran, bolting around stacks of cars and climbing desperately over piles of garbage. You sliced your knee open on a piece of rebar, but you didn't care. You felt the crushing weight of loneliness close in on you, and you tried to remind yourself that you weren't alone.

Steve had brought you to the junkyard. The kids were with him, all of them worried about you. Even Rob, the nutjob who ran the junkyard, was somewhere there. All you had to do was keep running. Keep running, don't look back, and hope that you finally broke free of whatever nightmare world Vecna had you trapped in.

There was the sound of someone humming far off, the noise drifting in through your terrified, panting breaths and Vecna following after you, twisting metal out of his path to gain ground.

It was faint at first, but as you tried in vain to get away from Vecna, the sound came through clearer and clearer.

You knew that song.

"Billy Idol," you breathed with an incredulous huff, your mind immediately catching on the song, letting it infect your mind to drive out Vecna's curse.

I'd sell my soul for you, babe drifted through your head before you felt long tendrils wrap around your ankles, bringing you down to the ground. Your face hit gravel and steel, blood coating your lips as you scrabbled at the ground, attempting to break free.

You were forced onto your back, before you were raised into the air, pressed against a column of bones and viscera that had been erected from the ground. Vines reached out, tethering you to the column, restricting you until you could barely move.

Vecna stood before you, a pitying look on his face. "There's nowhere to run," he pointed out. "Nowhere I won't be able to find you."

I'd give you all, and have none, babe crept through the fog, slicing right through the hold Vecna had on you.

Vecna's hand reached out, forcing you to look at him. He gripped your chin in his grasp, his nails biting into your skin. Your breath hitched in your chest and your mind whirled in a thousand different directions. Panic seared through you, freezing all along your veins, and threatened to rip your sanity from you.

You tried to think of Steve or Billy or anything that would keep you from letting Vecna's eyes bore into yours, knowing that it would be all too easy to lose your mind to him.

Vecna raised his elongated hand above your face, commanding you to stare up at it in horror. You could feel your eyes begin to roll up into your head as Vecna let out a wicked laugh.

"Did you think they could protect you?"

Darkness was creeping in and you could feel yourself beginning to lose the fight you were waging with your consciousness. You felt your bones begin to quake beneath your skin, threatening to shatter, as Vecna's claws pressed into your face.

"Maybe not," you heard a voice echo, your anguished grief lending you to believe it was Billy's. "But I can."

Vecna was ripped away from you and you fell to the ground with a gasp. You struggled to breathe as you forced yourself to look up. You blinked a few times, as if trying to wipe away the image before you, because it was so unbelievable.

It couldn’t be.

Could it?

It was.

Billy was standing between you and Vecna. There were blackened, scorched veins running along his arms and his hands were curved into claws, which he was using to rip apart Vecna, piece by piece.

Billy took a moment to look at you over his shoulder. His eyes were charcoal voids ringed with red, spiderlike black veins surrounding them, splintering his skin.

"Run," he demanded before he turned to face Vecna again, falling on him, tearing into him with furious, frenzied swipes of his hands.

It took you a beat too long to understand the word, but once you finally did, you stumbled to your feet and took off towards where you had left the Camaro behind. You knew, instinctively, that you could find salvation there.

You could see a white light up ahead and heard someone frantically calling your name. There were phantom tugs on your legs and tears running down your face. You felt like you were never going to make it, passing rusted cars and piles of trash, paper getting stuck under your shoe and causing you to slip and nearly lose your footing. You could hear Vecna roaring in displeasure and you worried for Billy's safety, but was he even Billy anymore? He sounded like Billy and looked a hell of a lot like him, but he wasn't quite Billy, was he?

You tried to push past the fear and lingering questions and focus on just putting one foot in front of the other. You could hear Steve's pleas for you to stay with him and the sound of Dustin Henderson cursing in frustration and Max Mayfield's panicked cries for your attention. You heard Lucas Sinclair trying to get in contact with Nancy and Robin on the radio, begging them for a solution or idea that would save you.

They wanted to save you. They cared about you. You weren't alone, despite what Vecna wanted you to believe, and Billy, whether a twisted figment of your imagination or not, had saved you. You didn't deserve to die and you weren't going to give into Vecna.

You would fight for yourself and the others. You weren’t ready to die.

With renewed determination, you rounded a stack of crushed cars and finally saw the Camaro. You could make out the shadows of your loved ones on the other side, and without thinking, you dove into the backseat of the Camaro. You crawled through the backseat until you reached the other side of the car, a blinding light filling your senses as you emerged, before you fell right back into your body.

You gasped in a desperate breath before you felt yourself slam back down to the ground. Steve did his best to catch you, but your legs still twisted beneath you, and you felt them give out a warning twinge of pain. You met Max's worried gaze and managed to get out the only words you could think to say.

"It was Billy," you said, your voice trembling. "He saved me. He was there."

"But...how?" Dustin asked, his voice skeptical. "He died, didn't he?"

"I don't know," you answered, unsure how else to interpret what happened in Vecna's thrall. Was it Billy or your own mind fighting back at Vecna? You wouldn't know. You couldn't know. Not unless you saw Billy again. Not unless Vecna came for you again.

You felt desolation and sorrow begin to creep back in on the ride back to the Wheeler house. Steve didn't want to let you out of his sight, and everyone figured there was safety in numbers, so for the time being, you were all staying in the Wheeler's basement.

Nancy and Robin came back, quietly explaining what they found out at the asylum with Victor Creel to the others while your thoughts were focused on what happened with Vecna. You had almost died a cruel and gruesome death. Death's grip had been tightening around you until Billy had shown up. You remembered the hum of Rebel Yell and wondered if that had been Billy's call to you, his way of asking you to hold on until he could save you.

The others fell asleep, despite promising to watch out for you in turns. One by one, their eyes slipped closed, and it wasn't long before they were all passed out, exhausted from the events of the day. You felt wired and restless, so you silently opened the door leading to the backyard, hoping that the fresh air would do you good.

You glanced over your shoulder, making sure you were going unnoticed, and slipped into the Wheeler's backyard. There was one light illuminating the space, but it was easy to stick to the shadows, leaning up against the side of the house, your breath forming clouds in front of your face.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying not to shiver as you glanced up at the sky, attempting to make out all the stars you could. You thought of all the silly stories you told Billy about the stars and the way his fingers would trail lightly along your arm, listening to you ramble away. You always felt safe there with Billy, in the dark, just the two of you and countless stars in the sky.

"In the midnight hour," you sang under your breath, the song on a loop in your mind since the events at the junkyard.

"More, more, more," came a lilting, teasing voice from the darkness, jolting you out of your thoughts.

He was there at the corner of the house, melting away from the bricks behind him until he was right there in front of you. His eyes were still ringed in red, but they no longer looked like pieces of coal that had melted into his face. You could smell smoke and fire on his denim jacket and there was ash streaked across his cheek.

"Billy?" Your voice was barely audible, because you were terrified you were going to shatter the illusion and Billy would disappear again.

"I'm here," he promised, his hand reaching out to gently caress your face. His skin felt so hot against yours and you couldn't help but shudder at the feeling of his heat.

"But how? They said you died," you pointed out, trying to make sense of everything.

"I did," he confirmed, halting your breath in your throat. "And I didn't. I guess I wasn't quite me when I got torn into by that fucker. A lot of me was gone, but there was still enough left around to try to save that girl. The one he wanted so badly he was willing to kill everyone to get to her."

"Billy," you whispered, reaching out to grab his hand, ready this time for the searing heat of his skin. "What's going on?"

"Hell if I know," he answered, a delighted smirk appearing on his face, as if laughing at a joke only he knew the punchline to. "I absorbed too much of that place," he confessed. "And when I died, I ended up there, and I was stuck. I wandered for a while, trying to figure out how to get back, but then I heard you. He had you and I couldn't let him take you too. Not like he took me or the others. He would have hollowed you out and poured himself into you. Turned you into a puppet," he spat, disdain and revulsion seeping into his tone. “A trophy for his shelf. He can’t have you. I won’t let him.”

"I'm sorry," you blurted, the words you had wanted to tell Billy all along forcing their way out of your throat. They had been the two words stuck inside your head for months and finally getting to say them now, they felt nearly useless. What would an apology do when Billy would never be the same again? When this all might still be some kind of fucked up death dream your brain had cooked up for you?

"Sorry?" Billy asked, bemusement clear in his tone. "What do you have to be sorry for?"

"I wasn't there," you reminded him. "We had that fight and I didn't see you and then you died. Maybe if I had been with you, maybe if we never had that fight--"

"Then maybe you would be dead now too," Billy finished for you. "I wouldn't risk that, baby. Because then you'd be like me." His eyes flashed black for a moment before they reverted back to their normal color. "Half-dead and only alive because of a fucked up creature from another dimension. I can feel it crawling underneath my skin," he confessed, his voice hoarse, as if it hurt for him to say. "It wants me and it wants you and it wants everything," he hissed, his breath brushing against your cheek. "But as long as I'm still in here," he said, tapping his fingers against his forehead, "I'm never gonna let it get you. You're safe with me," he promised, leaning forward so his lips brushed against yours.

It felt like a deal he was sealing with a kiss. You didn’t know what you would have to give up in payment, but in that moment, you felt as if you would follow him anywhere. Do anything he asked. Be anything he wanted. Just for more time alone with him.

"Y/N?" You heard Steve call, voice high and panicked. The door behind you opened and you turned to see your brother rushing outside, his shoulders slumping in relief once he noticed you standing in the shadows of the house. "What the fuck are you doing out here? Are you okay?"

You suddenly felt cold, bereft, and when you looked at Billy, it was to see that he wasn't there anymore. You could just barely make out his form moving away from you before he melted back into the shadows.

"Yeah," you answered your brother, turning around to face him again. "I think I'm okay."

#billy hargrove #stranger things #billy hargrove x reader #hellfire haunts #billy hargrove imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #demon billy hargrove #imagine #my fic

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