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happy74827 · 6 months

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After Hours

[Billy x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: You never fully believed the saying, “wrong place, wrong time…” until now {GIF credits: moviebuffs on tumblr}

WC: 4,392 (whoops)

Category: Hurt/Comfort {TW — Melinda, threats, mention of drugs + blood, lots of cursing}

I watched this two nights ago with my friend (love you @yoursacredqueenmother) and now here I am… obsessed. The ending was lame ngl but I highly recommend this movie if you like messed up situations (and Josh looking spicy 🥵).

『••✎••』

You hated driving at night. All the darkness outside and the light reflecting from the headlights, it all gave you a headache.

Your eyes darted over to the passenger's seat. It was empty and you were glad. The road was bad enough, you couldn't imagine trying to deal with someone else's conversation while driving.

The only sound was the soft rumble of the car, the whirring of the engine, and the sound of the tires rolling over the rough pavement. Your hands were tense on the steering wheel as you squinted in an attempt to see a few feet ahead of you. There were no lights out here, no street lights or traffic lights, and you were starting to think there wouldn't be any towns, either.

It would be the last straw if you ran out of gas out here.

You didn't even know where you were going, you were just following the GPS's directions and praying it would get you out of this desert and somewhere safe.

You sighed and shifted in your seat, tapping the steering wheel anxiously. You hadn't seen any other cars for a few hours now, which wasn't unusual, but it was still a little nerve-wracking to be driving out in the middle of nowhere.

But of course, as all nightmares go, suddenly, your car made a strange noise and started slowing down.

"Shit!" you hissed, smacking the steering wheel. "Shit shit shit!"

The car sputtered and then finally came to a complete stop, the engine dying. You slammed your hands against the wheel, feeling tears of anger and frustration welling up in your eyes. You were completely and utterly screwed.

You sat in the car for a while, letting the silence and darkness envelop you. The heat had faded quickly as soon as the sun had set, leaving behind an eerie chill that seeped through your clothes and into your skin.

You took a deep breath and looked around, but you could barely make out the landscape around you. It was pitch black and you knew if you tried to leave the car you would lose it immediately and end up getting hopelessly lost. You weren't sure what to do.

You looked over at the empty passenger seat, now wishing more than anything that you had someone with you.

You sighed and laid your head back, trying not to think about how scared and alone you felt.

As you sat there, staring up at the roof of the car, you decided you needed a plan. You couldn't just sit here forever, and if you were going to get anywhere, you were going to need help.

You grabbed your phone from the cup holder and held down the power button, watching as the screen lit up. You had service, thankfully, and a decent amount of battery left. You unlocked the screen and opened the maps app, waiting as it searched for your location.

You watched anxiously as the small circle spun, feeling a pit of dread growing in your stomach as the minutes ticked by.

After what felt like an eternity, the screen finally lit up. You sighed and put a hand on your chest, feeling relieved.

Zoomed out on the map, you looked for the nearest town. You didn’t find one, but you found a gas station… they were sure to have a jumper cable, right?

You plugged the coordinates into the GPS and started the car again, hoping that it would start.

It didn’t, of course. The whole point of getting stranded was that your car wouldn't start. So, you had no choice but to walk.

You grabbed a bag from the back seat and threw a few necessities inside, along with your wallet, your phone, your charger, and a small pepper spray bottle that your best friend had insisted you carry.

You were glad she'd been so insistent, you'd never have thought you'd need it.

You slung the bag over your shoulder and opened the door, stepping out into the chilly air. You shivered and closed the door, locking it, and then turned away from the car, setting off into the dark.

The moon was hidden behind thick clouds and the wind whipped around you, kicking up sand and rocks that stung your face and hands. You shivered and wrapped your arms around yourself, pulling your coat tighter around your body.

You wished you'd had the foresight to bring a thicker jacket or something, but you hadn't planned on getting stranded.

The walk was slow, the uneven ground and lack of light making the journey difficult. You could hear the wind howling around you, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you were being watched.

You kept walking, trying not to think about what could be lurking in the shadows, watching your every move.

Finally, after about twenty minutes, you spotted a light in the distance. You picked up your pace, your heart racing. As you got closer, you could see it was the gas station, just like you'd hoped.

You jogged up to the doors, pushing them to open but finding them locked.

You groaned and knocked on the glass, looking inside. There were no lights on, and you couldn't see anyone.

"Hey!" you yelled, pounding on the door. "I need help!"

There was no answer, and you were starting to think no one was inside.

You sighed and sat down on the concrete, putting your face in your hands. You had no idea what you were going to do now. The stupid location said it was open twenty four hours a day, so where was the damn staff?

You were about to get up and try the door again when you were startled by the light above the doors flickered on. You looked up and saw a woman standing behind you, her dark hair flat and dull. Her clothes were a mess, and there were dark circles under her eyes.

She looked exhausted, and when she spoke, her voice was strained but polite.

"Can I help you?"

Your eyes widened, and you scrambled to your feet, trying not to look panicked. But when you noticed the name tag pinned to her shirt that read ‘Melinda,’ your fear melted away and you let out a sigh of relief.

"Oh thank god, I thought no one was here," you laughed.

She didn't laugh with you, her face remained emotionless.

"Sorry, I was in the back," she explained. "What can I do for you?"

"My car broke down… honestly, I don’t remember where. It was really dark, and I don’t know this area." You shook your head and continued, "I was hoping I could buy a jumper cable or something? Just enough to get me out of here."

She nodded slowly, her expression never changing.

"Yes, they should be near the back with the other supplies." She paused, eyeing you warily. "I would offer coffee along with it, but… we're out of stock at the moment."

"That's fine," you said. "Just the cable will do."

She nodded again and stepped past you, pulling out a key and unlocking the door. She stepped inside and motioned for you to follow her. You did, and the moment you entered, a rush of cold air hit you, making you shiver.

She walked to the counter, her footsteps echoing on the tiled floor. She stopped at the register and began pressing buttons, her movements slow and methodical.

You couldn’t really care at the moment, as your eyes roamed the store, searching for the cables.

You walked down the first aisle, but didn’t see them. You kept walking, and when you came to the second aisle, you spotted them. You were about to grab them, but then you noticed the hall with the bathroom sign hanging from it.

Suddenly, the bottle of water that seemed so important earlier became a major regret. You hadn't gone to the bathroom since before your car broke down, and it was starting to catch up with you.

You took a step towards the bathroom, glancing back to the cashier. You could see her staring down at the counter, her fingers pressed to the keys, not really typing.

You didn't want to interrupt her, so you decided not to ask. You hurried into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. You flipped the lock, and then turned to face the mirror.

You grimaced at the sight of yourself. Your hair was messy and your face was dirty. You splashed some water on your face, and then grabbed a paper towel and dried yourself off before doing everything you had to.

You left the bathroom, planning on returning to the aisle, but then you heard a noise.

A small sound, a whimper, like a puppy in pain.

You looked down the hall, trying to find the source. It sounded like it was coming from the storage room.

"Uh, hello?" you called, taking a hesitant step towards the door. "Are you alright?"

There was no response, just another small, pitiful cry.

You bit your lip and pushed the door open, stepping into the darkness.

"Hello?" you said again. "Is someone there?"

The door creaked behind you, and then closed. You spun around, panic rising in your throat. You reached for the handle, but before you could grab it, something moved in the darkness.

You jumped back, a gasp escaping your lips.

Something moved in front of you. You couldn't tell what it was, or where it was, but you knew it was there.

You took a step back, trying to stay calm. Your heart was racing and your palms were sweaty.

"Please, I just need help with my car," you pleaded.

A low, guttural growl came from the shadows. It sounded like a wild animal, and when it moved again, it was close enough that you could see the outline of its form.

It was… not tall. Not in the slightest. In fact, it probably was only taller than you by an inch, if at all. It was hunched over, its shoulders curved inward, its spine protruding slightly.

It took you a long minute to realize that it was just a guy in a chair. Man, you were blind.

He had on a denim jacket, and it hung off his small frame, the sleeves rolled up. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, and he was trembling slightly. That’s when you noticed the bundles of red tape around his eyes, mouth, arms, and legs. He also seemed to be bounded to the chair, strapped down and unable to move.

“Oh my god,” you breathed. You stepped towards him, reaching out a hand, but he jumped out at you, attempting to attack. Though, it was pretty much useless on his end. He couldn’t move more than a couple inches in any direction.

He started to speak afterwards, but the tape had prevented it from being coherent, and all you could make out was a low, angry rumble.

"No! No, no, no!" You stepped back, putting your hands up. It was rather pointless and stupid of you too, because the tape had also covered his eyes, you just looked like an idiot. But, still, you kept them up. "I'm not going to hurt you, I just need some help with my car!"

He growled at you, a low, threatening sound, but then he stopped, seeming to realize that you were telling the truth. He was breathing hard, and his chest was heaving, and then he mumbled something under the tape.

"What?" You asked.

He mumbled again, but you couldn't understand him. It was like talking to a brick wall.

You hesitated, but then moved forward, reaching up to take the tape off. If you had to guess that was probably what he was mumbling about.

He flinched when you touched him, but then relaxed. You peeled the tape away from his face, both the strands across his mouth and the one over his eyes, and dropped it to the floor.

He was breathing heavily, and when you looked up at him, you were surprised by how young he looked. His face was pale and his lips were dry. His hair was greasy and tangled, and the side of his head was badly burned and bruised. There was even dried blood on his temple.

“Jesus, what happened to you?"

He stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable.

"Get me the fuck out of here, and I'll tell you," he hissed.

His voice was surprisingly smooth, despite how rough he looked. His words were short and sharp, like he was angry.

You weren't sure what to do, but then he started moving.

"Please," he said, his voice sounding desperate. "I promise, I won't hurt you. Just, please. Please get me out of this fucking chair."

"Did that… lady put you in here?”

"Yes, Melinda," he spat. "She's a nutcase psycho. Drugged me and… and… whatever the fuck. Just get me out of here!"

He sounded more frantic now, and his eyes were wide and pleading.

"Well, I-” You started to say, but he cut you off.

"Well what? What’re you waiting for?!”

“I- I need a jumper cable. My car broke down outside… somewhere. I'm not from around here, and- I don't know where I am. I can't exactly go anywhere until my car's fixed."

He looked at you with the most exasperated look you'd ever seen. It was almost comical, how exaggerated the expression was, but then he seemed to relax.

"Alright, how about this…” he said, his voice low and soothing. "You let me out of this shitty chair, and I'll help you fix your car. How's that sound?"

You didn't know what to say. He didn't seem like he was lying, and he seemed to be genuine about his fear. But could you really trust him? You still had no idea who he was or where he came from.

He seemed to sense your hesitation, and his expression softened.

"Look, I'm not going to hurt you," he said. "But I can't really help you unless I can get out of this stupid chair. And if we stay here, Melinda's going to find us, and trust me, you do not want to deal with her."

"And if she finds us, what will she do?"

"Look at Sheila over there wrapped up like a fucking Christmas tree," he replied, jerking his head towards the woman's corpse.

You gasped, covering your mouth.

"Oh my god, I didn’t even notice," you mumbled.

"Yeah, well, she's been dead for about an hour now, so," he said.

"And- and you've been sitting here, tied up the whole time?!"

"Yeah, it's fucking awful," he grumbled. "Now, will you help me, or not?"

"Oh, uh, yeah." You looked down at the remaining tape, trying to decide how best to go about it.

"Just, hurry up," he urged.

"Ok, ok." You reached for the tape, and he leaned forward, letting you pull and tug on the strips.

After a minute, you had all the tape off that was pinning him down and he was able to stand up. Again, he wasn’t that tall, maybe a five to six inches above five feet, but that didn't stop him from moving fast. He darted around the room, looking around frantically, and then grabbed a crowbar from a nearby shelf.

"Where did you even-"

"Not the time," he interrupted.

He turned towards you, his expression hard. He was pretty intimidating, and it wasn’t just because of the crowbar. He was skinny, but muscular, and the way he moved was fluid and agile, like a predator.

Though, you couldn’t help but noticed how attractive he was, with his expressive eyes and the way his hair was pushed back from his face. He was gorgeous.

"Hey," he snapped. "You listening?"

You blinked, and nodded.

"Sorry," you said, shaking your head. "This has just been a very, very strange night."

"Tell me about it," he grumbled. "That’s why when I’m done with her, we are getting the fuck out of here."

"Done with her?"

"Well, yeah, obviously. We're not just gonna let her get away with this shit."

"Um, are you sure that's a good idea? She's, like, a million times your size," You smiled at the small joke, but he didn’t seem amused at all, so you added, "Not to mention, hurting people seems like a bit of an extreme response."

"Hurting people is kinda her thing," he muttered.

You opened your mouth to respond, but he cut you off.

"Look, are you coming with me, or not? Because, if not, then just leave. You're already making this way more complicated than it needs to be."

"I can’t leave, not until my car's fixed," you protested. "That's why I'm here in the first place.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated.

"Ok, fine, fine," he relented. "Whatever. You can come with me, but just don't slow me down, alright?"

"Right," you said, nodding.

He didn't look convinced, but he didn't argue. He just started walking, motioning for you to follow. You did, and soon the two of you were standing outside the storage room, the door open and the hallway beyond shrouded in darkness.

"Alright, the plan is, I'm going to distract her and make her pay," he whispered. "While I'm doing that, you're going to grab the keys to her car or whatever and get it started. We'll meet up outside and drive off, and that'll be the end of it."

"You're… very confident for someone who was tied up to a chair five minutes ago," you had another attempt at lightening the mood, but he just gave you a pointed look.

Again, he didn’t seem amused. "Yeah, well, she's a bitch, and I don't appreciate being treated like a goddamn lab rat."

He has an odd way of speaking, you noticed. His words were short and clipped, and he never used more than he needed. It was a little intimidating, but mostly it was just kind of interesting.

"How’d do you even end up like that, anyway?"

He gave you another one of his annoyed looks. It was weird how much he could convey with just his eyes, but the look was gone almost as soon as it appeared.

"Don’t ask stupid questions,"

"Well, it seems like a reasonable question, considering the circumstances," you retorted.

He rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Look, do you want my help or not?"

"Um, yeah. Yeah, of course,"

"Then stop asking stupid questions and focus on the task at hand. You get the car, I'll take care of Melinda. Simple."

You didn't know what to say, so you just nodded. He seemed pleased with your response and began to lead the way down the hall, moving quietly and staying close to the walls.

You followed him, keeping your footsteps light. As you went, you thought about the situation.

Melinda, in the five minutes of knowing her, never struck you as the violent type. A little socially weird, yes, but not violent. It seemed out of character, and you wondered if she had a reason for acting the way she did. Or maybe she was just crazy, like the guy had said.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you saw him hold up a hand. You stopped, and he pointed to the corner. You looked, and saw Melinda's form moving past the entrance to the hall, a flashlight in her hand.

The man motioned for you to stay put and moved silently towards the entrance. You watched him, unable to do anything else.

When he reached the opening, he paused. He was still, and for a moment, you thought he had lost his nerve.

He didn't hesitate for long. In one quick motion, he darted out of the hall, his crowbar held high.

Melinda jumped back, the light from her flashlight swinging wildly as she tried to regain her footing. She swung her flashlight at him, and the metal bar made a dull clang when it collided with her temporary weapon.

He stumbled, but managed to stay on his feet. He lunged at her again, but this time she was ready. He had stopped fast when she pulled out a gun, pointing it at his head.

I guess he was telling the truth.

“Just stop, okay? You can leave now, I'll let you go. Just don't-"

"Give me one good reason why I should listen to a word you say," the man interrupted, his tone low and menacing.

She stammered, trying to think of an answer. She didn't get the chance, though. Her eyes had caught sight of you, and she had noticed that you weren't where she had left you.

"Oh, oh god," she whispered, her voice filled with horror. "No, no, no. No, you weren't supposed to-"

The man swung the crowbar, and the gun flew out of her hand, skidding across the floor.

He moved in quickly, swinging his arm again. She dodged, and the metal bar hit the wall, creating a large dent in the plaster.

Melinda backed away, her hands raised, her eyes wide.

"I'm sorry, okay?" she cried, backing away from him. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone. I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Sorry?! You… you drugged me and tried to…” He paused, stopping momentarily before pointing the crowbar at her face. “The point is, sorry isn't going to cut it, you bitch."

He swung at her again, and again, she dodged.

She was fast, and he wasn't, and soon, he had lost his balance. She shoved him hard, sending him flying backwards.

He landed hard on the ground, the wind knocked out of him. He didn't move, and Melinda stood over him, panting and wild eyed. The gun found her hands again, and she pointed it at his head, her hand trembling.

You had to do something. You couldn't just stand by and watch him die.

You did the only thing you could think of.

You went into your bag and took out the very same pepper spray that you had been carrying since the start of this nightmare, and fired.

The stream hit her right in the eyes, and she screamed, dropping the gun. It hit the floor with a loud thunk, and you dove for it, picking it up and pointing it at her.

"Don't move," you yelled, your voice shaking. "I'm warning you. I'm not afraid to use this."

Actually, that was a lie. You were absolutely terrified, and your hands were trembling so badly that you were barely able to keep a grip on the gun.

But you couldn't back down now. Not after everything you had been through.

She had stopped screaming, but was still clutching her eyes, tears streaming down her face. She was moaning and stumbling around, trying to find her way back to the wall.

She finally found it, and leaned against it, her eyes closed.

"Please, please don't hurt me," she sobbed. "I didn't want to do it. I didn't mean to hurt anyone. Please don't hurt me."

You glanced at the man. He was staring up at you, his expression unreadable.

"I should take that gun and shoot you right now," he said. "After what you did, I should kill you."

"Please," she whimpered.

He stared at her, and for a moment, you didn't know what he would do. Then, he got to his feet, picking up his crowbar as he did so.

Before she can even react he took a swing, hitting her right in the stomach. She gasped and fell to the floor, curling up into a ball.

He took another swing, this time aiming for her face.

You stepped forward, about to tell him to stop, but the blow didn't land.

Instead, he stood there, the crowbar held high. Melinda was looking up at him, her face red and streaked with tears.

"I just needed money," he spoke, his voice low and harsh. "That's it. Money. No one was supposed to get hurt, just a simple robbery with no one getting hurt."

She said nothing, just stared at him.

You, on the other hand, were frozen in shock. Robbery? He was robbing the damn station?

He sighed and lowered the crowbar, shaking his head.

"It's not like I wanted to do this, okay? I needed the money, and it was just an easy target. But you couldn't just let me get away, could you? You just had to make it difficult. Now look at the mess we're in."

"You were robbing?” Your voice was small, barely above a whisper, but it still cut through the tension like a knife.

He didn't turn, but his shoulders sagged slightly.

"Look, it's not what you think, okay?" He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I was in trouble, probably still am, and I needed money. Lots of it. That's why I picked this place, because it was an easy target. I wasn't planning on anyone getting hurt, I was just going to rob the place and get out. I wasn't expecting this crazy lady to come along."

He gestured to Melinda, who was still curled up on the ground.

"I was just trying to rob the place," he repeated. "It was nothing personal. And look, you helped me, so I guess I owe you one, or whatever. So, let's just call it even, and we can go our separate ways. Deal?"

“Even Melinda?” You asked, your voice shaking.

He paused, and his eyes flicked over to the woman on the ground, a slight grimace crossing his face.

"Of course not. She was a psychopath who tied me up and threatened me, and I'm not about to just let her walk away after all the shit she's pulled."

Melinda looked up at him, her face contorted with fear. He didn’t seem to care though, but what he did was tell you to leave, and that he'll take care of things.

So, you did, but not before grabbing your bag, and not before snagged out those car keys of hers. The odd thing you did notice though, while leaving the store, was how the entire floor seemed wet. It wasn't until about an hour of just simply waiting in the dark that you figured why.

And you realized as you saw the sudden rise of flames, the smoke billowing from the open door, that you indeed did not have that help from that mystery man after all.

Your car will remain broken.

So, I wrote this long piece of work because I went searching and found ABSOLUTELY NOTHING (which honestly it’s a crime given how fine he was in this movie — at least people realized it with Mike lmfao) so I wrote what I wanted to read.

I hope that this becomes a Rhys Montrose type of situation (For those who don’t know what I mean, this character Rhys from Season 4 of the show, You, had no fanfics on here and I basically jumpstarted it by writing like 4 of them lol) because I feel this character and movie deserves more hype and attention. Just look up edits of Billy from the movie and you’ll see what I mean.

Anyways if you’re actually still reading, thank you for coming to my ted talk. Hopefully you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it 🫶✨

(Also, if you see any more fics of this man… pls tag me. I’m desperate lmfao)

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loveisanimaginarydagger3000 · 8 months

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The Babysitter (1)

Meeting The Maximoffs

Wanda Maximoff X Reader

Summary: In need of money and a way to escape the problems at home, you get a job babysitting two lovely boys named Billy and Tommy Maximoff. What happens when you start to feel things you shouldn't for their mother? Will it bloom into love or leave you heartbroken?

The Babysitter Master list | General Master List

A/N- I would just like to say that there will be some sensitive issues in this story such as alcoholism, homophobia, anxiety as well as more mature content such as smut so, if you continue to read this, please consider this warning.

Meeting The Maximoffs

The sound of the bell rang around the room, Professor Stark in front of the first row, reminding everyone in the class to have completed the assignment by Monday before returning to his desk, fingers moving to type away at his keyboard, presumably writing an email about the assignment as people were flooding out of the door, his words falling on deaf ears. You made a mental note to complete the task before grabbing your backpack from the ground, quickly placing all your books and notes away before hurriedly leaving the room and the college campus.

The sound of directions filled your earphones as you looked down at your phone, the screen displaying a map with a blue line to lead you towards your destination of the house you were going to be babysitting at. Your gaze flickered between the screen and your surroundings as you stepped off the bus after thanking the driver, your mouth parting when you turned the corner your phone told you to. The street of houses here had you looking at them in awe, the area clearly wealthy judging by the houses that you felt should be referred to more as mansions.

Your feet carried you to the intended house, your hands nervously putting your phone away and fixing your outfit a little before ringing the bell of the large house. While waiting for someone to answer, your fingers fidgeted with one another as you were unsure of what to do.

Soon, the door swung open to reveal a tall blonde man with striking blue eyes dressed in professional attire, a soft smile that was definitely not genuine covering his face as he offered his hand out to you.

"You must be Y/n," you took his hand, shaking it briefly and trying not to grimace at his firm grip while nodding at his words.

"Yes, that's me sir," you say, noticing how he appreciated the formality, "You must be Mr Jarvis?" He nodded his head and moved to let you into the house, you follow behind him while your eyes scanned the hallway.

A smile took over your face at the sight of a photo of two young boys, both grinning ear to ear in the photo as they were dressed up in Halloween costumes, one in a sky-blue jumper with silver lightning bolts running across it, the other in a navy jumper and red cape flowing behind him. Your eyes flickered over to another photo this time of the two boys and a woman but before you could look any more at it you heard your name being called from another room.

"So," Mr Jarvis started, "I'm not sure how much you have discussed with my wife over the phone, so I'm going to cut to the chase and make sure we're both happy with everything." You sat opposite the man, listening attentively to what he was saying, a little shocked by his forwardness though. "You are to look after the twins, make sure they do any schoolwork, keep them entertained and feed them," the way he was speaking made you think it was something rehearsed, something he didn't actually care about but had to make sure was done, "Be in bed by nine if neither of us are home and that's pretty much it. It will most likely be Monday to Friday as my wife and I both work, and you will need to be on time as my work only lets me out to pick the boys up from school to bring them home. We'll pay you in cash afterwards."

"What time will I need to be here for you to go back to work?" you ask, praying that it fits with your class schedule.

"By four at the latest," he looks down at his watch, noting the time and standing to grab his suit jacket that was draped over the sofa. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to work," your eyes widen at his words and follow after him.

"Wait, I'm starting now?" you practically blurt out, your nerves doubling every second he continues to get ready to leave the house.

"Yes," he answers shortly before walking to the bottom of the stairs and calling the twins down, "Tommy, Billy, come down here." The sounds of feet running down the stairs fill your ears as you see the two boys from the photo come into sight. "This is Y/n, your new babysitter so listen to her and behave," he ruffles both of their hair, one of them seeming to not like the action, before turning back to you. "Any issues, call or message Wanda," with that said he makes his way out of the house, the sound of the door shutting echoing inside your head.

At least you were good with kids... right?

With a nervous expression, you look at the boys who have smiles on their faces, pure excitement emitting from one of them, the other clearly more timid than his brother. You crouch down and give him a comforting smile, tilting your head to the side as you smile at the other.

"I'm Y/n," you offer the more confident brother your hand, his smaller one taking a hold of yours and shaking it a little too enthusiastically making you laugh.

"I'm Tommy," he says, teeth showing as he seems to like the idea of having a new babysitter. "This is my brother Billy," you give a soft smile to Billy who gives a small one back.

"Well, how about we have some fun now we've got the house to ourselves," your tone is playful, both of their eyes lighting up at your words.

"Can we be ninjas?" Tommy rushes out, your eyes widening once again. His brother laughs at your shocked and equally confused reaction.

"I..uh.. Sure, we can be ninjas if we want to," you chuckle out, "But after we play, we have to do our schoolwork." They both groan a little, but you raise your eyebrows at them, making them giggle at the fake serious look you were giving them.

An hour ago, if someone told you that you were about to play ninjas with two nine-year-olds you would have simply laughed in their face, now look at you. "Do you want to be a ninja too Billy? Or do you want to be someone else?" His face lights up at your question, your heart melting a little at his shyer nature.

"I can be something else?" He looks to his brother who is already doing karate moves in the air, your gaze following his and mouth tugging up into a smile. You nod at him and wait for him to think of something he wants to be. "Can I be an astronaut?"

"Of course you can," your tone is cheery, and you stand upright, mirroring the position Tommy was in. "So, we have a ninja and an astronaut, what's the first plan of action for tonight?"

"We have to sneak into the living room and defeat the bad guys!" Tommy exclaims, taking his role seriously and crouching down, slowly creeping towards the room. You copy him, watching as Billy also mirrors the action, and gradually make your way into the living room. You have to hold back your laughter when Tommy and Billy both check the corners of the other doors in the house before they leap into the living room. Billy doesn't fight as many bad guys as Tommy, the latter slicing his palm through the air and punching imaginary figures. "We did it!" he cheers, face beaming up at you as he goes to high five you.

"We did," Tommy looks proud of himself while you turn to his brother, "Now, I think it's time for a mini trip to space for our little astronaut over here."

Moving to the middle of the room, the boys either side of you, you bring your hand up to your mouth in the shape of a radio. "Pshhht, this is your captain speaking," chuckles fill the room with the voice you put on as well as the awful static noises you try to make. "Are we Psshhhht," another set of laughter, "Are we ready for take-off?"

"This is astronaut Billy saying he's ready," he says, eyes full of joy while he looks up at you. Tommy also says he's ready and you put your captain's voice again.

"Taking off in 10...9...8...7," the twins joining in with the countdown.

"6...5...4...3...2...1!" At the end of the countdown, you lift Billy off the ground, swaying your body around with him earning a squeal of surprise and excitement. You place him down after a little more flying through space, his brother pretending to steer the spaceship.

"And that concludes our space mission," they both pout a little, trying to make you guilty for ending the fun so soon.

"But we never flew back to earth," Tommy counters, you just shaking your head at them.

"If we all do our schoolwork then maybe we can fly to another planet then back to earth," you reason, the twins practically sprinting to go and get their homework. You sit with them at the table, pulling out your own work to do while they start theirs.

You want to say many, many things about the work Mr Stark gave you to do but refrain from saying them due to two little people sitting near you. Your pen scribbles word after word for your assignment, your gaze occasionally flickering over to the others to make sure they are doing their work and understand it.

"Y/n?" you hear Tommy say, "Can you help me with my maths question?"

"Of course I can," you move your chair so it's next to his, your eyes searching the paper for the question. You notice he's doing fractions and wish your work was like these fraction questions instead of an entire essay on science theories. After a few minutes of explaining, a flash of realisation and understanding washes over his face while he tries another question on his own.

The sound of the door opening catches your attention, your eyes checking your watch to see that it's just gone half five. You wait at the table with the boys who haven't seemed to notice someone's home until she walks in.

Your mouth parts slightly at the sight of the woman, no, the goddess that just walked into the room. A smile that could brighten any room, mesmerising green eyes that practically enchant you and auburn locks cascading down her back with a few framing her face adorns her perfect figure, your mind lost for words at the beauty of this woman. The boys rush over to her, hugging her and letting her lean down to press a small kiss to their foreheads before turning all of her attention to you. The expectant look on her face suggests she asked you a question, making you flush at the intensity of her gaze.

"Uh... pardon?" you say, embarrassed from being too captivated by her to listen. She simply smiles at you, nose scrunching at your nervous state.

"I said 'You must be Y/n, the new babysitter," there's a slight teasing in her tone as she repeats, "It's lovely to finally meet you face to face."

"You too, Mrs Jarvis," you awkwardly say, Tommy and Billy going off to watch Tv as they claim to have finished their work.

"I actually go by Miss Maximoff," she corrects politely, "And no need for formalities, call me Wanda, dear." The way her words have a slight accent to them has your face flushing even more, especially at the term of endearment. "I hope they behaved for you," she says, her head looking over her shoulder at her boys sitting on the sofa, engrossed with the cartoon currently playing.

"They were perfect for me Miss Ma-" Her eyes look over at you, eyebrow raised, "Uh Wanda." Your flustered state must have amused her as she let out an angelic laugh, your mind desperately wishing to hear that sound again. Your gaze travelled to the twins, your mind replaying the surprisingly fun afternoon you had. Stuck in the memory, you don't notice the way Wanda looks at you, an undecipherable glint in her eyes before her words break you out of your thoughts.

"Well thank you for taking such good care of them and somehow managing to get them to do their work," she jokes out, before reaching into her purse to find some cash to pay you. She offers you £50 and your eyes widen at how much she's giving you.

"That's way too much Wanda," you say in disbelief, you would have been happy with £10 never mind fifty. "I only looked after them for two hours," she shakes her head at you dismissively and takes a hold of your hands, placing the money there. You're too busy trying not to panic at the feeling of her hands on yours to stop her from pulling away.

"I can already tell they love you, so please take it," her eyes hopeful that you won't try and refuse once again. "Consider it a starting bonus," she argues, and you open your mouth in protest but close it almost immediately after as you can't think of anything to say to make her change her mind.

"Thank you," you say, looking up with an extremely grateful expression, "This really means a lot to me." You see the questioning look in her eyes and avert your gaze to your watch to see the time. "Um, I'll be going now if that's ok?" you move to the table to pack your books away, trying your hardest to ignore the feeling of her eyes on you.

"Yes, that's fine dear," when you turn you see a soft expression on her face and silently thank her for not pressing any further. "Billy, Tommy, say goodbye to Y/n," she calls, and the boys come rushing towards you with wide eyes.

"But we still have to go to another planet," Billy says, Tommy nodding his head along to what his brother says.

"And we need to get back to earth," Tommy adds, your heart clenching at the worried expressions on their faces. You look over to Wanda who just has a confused but entertained expression on her face. You move closer to them, Wanda even more intrigued by what was happening.

"Pshhht this is your captain speaking," they giggle at the static noise again, Wanda letting out a chuckle at your fake voice, your cheeks flushing as you look back at her. "Mission to Mars will happen on Monday, Pshhhht and mission back to Earth will happen afterwards," the worry washes from both of them at the promise of continuing the game before they rush over to hug your legs.

"Goodbye Y/n," they both say, then walking back to the sofa as you pull your backpack on and walk towards the door with Wanda close behind.

"Thank you once again for taking such good care of them," her voice is gentle as she holds the door open for you.

"It was honestly no problem, Wanda," you step out of the house, turning back to her before leaving properly, "They're amazing kids, you should be really proud of them." A small tint of pink covers her cheeks at your words

"Get home safely Y/n," her fingers brush a stray strand of hair behind her ear, "I'll see you Monday."

You watch as she shuts the door, a smile on her face, and start to walk down the drive, whispering a small 'See you on Monday' to yourself as your mind fills with thoughts of a certain woman.

---

The journey begins...

I hope you enjoyed :)

Please leave any thoughts/comments/votes <3

Ao3- LoveIsAnImaginaryDagger

Wattpad- LovePersevering2

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x you #eventual smut #wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x you #marvel fanfiction #babysitter au #slow burn #fluff #so much love #so much fun #wanda fluff #tommy maximoff #billy maximoff

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hellfire--cult · 10 months

Text

Baring Teeth {Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader} - Ch. 9

Edit of Eddie: pitifulbaby

Chapters: Masterlist (Go here to see list of chapters, plotline and general warnings.)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Non-Traditional Omegaverse, Slow burn, Modern!AU, Mechanic!Eddie

⚠️This chapter contains: billy hargrove x reader, smut (protected sex, p in v), manhandling, physical pain, hospital mention, dirty talking, mentions of cancer, grief

wc: 4.6k

Crossposted on: Wattpad & AO3

A/N: What a rollercoaster this chapter is. We are SLOWLY reaching the point in the story where everything will take a turn. Next chapter will have a small time skip, very small, but it is needed!

Anyways, Enjoy! ❤️ And don't forget to always support me by hitting the reblog button or leave a comment!

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CHAPTER 9

A deep breath in.

A deep breath out.

Gaining the courage to see the other side of the screen was always challenging, because it was always different. Ever changing. He changed. He worsened, with each passing day, with each passing minute, with each passing second.

The screen lit up after a few seconds and Wayne’s face came up on screen.

“Hi there Son.” He greets in a grunt. His hair was gone, no eyebrows, no beard, no sideburns. He was skinny, skinnier than the last time he had a call with Wayne, and his eyes were now filled with weakness rather than the strong man he once was.

“Hi Wayne. Interrupt your nap time, old man?” Eddie replied as he leaned against his balcony with phone in one hand and cigarette on the other. He always needed one when talking to Wayne, because it was always painful, the reminder of a limit of time that one day will reach its end.

“I nap all day. I really just want to go fishing again.” He says with a chuckle this time, a weak one, but Eddie still smiled at him, reciprocating his laugh.

“Oh come on, as if you ever caught something bigger than the size of a hand.” Eddie joked and it was a bluff really, Wayne was an excellent fisher, and that worked in getting dinner on the table a few times in his childhood and teenage years while he lived with him. Wayne looked into the camera completely offended and shook his head.

“I didn’t raise you to be a liar!” He exclaims and Eddie finally lets out a chuckle while taking a drag out of his cigarette. “You know, that’s the reason I’m like this.” Wayne says pointing at the camera, at what Eddie is holding in his hand.

“Yeah, well… You smoked way too much when I was a teen, like two packs per week.” And Eddie knew the reason for it. Getting the money for his medication, for his treatments, for the hospitalizations in the specialty facility was nothing cheap, and Wayne had to work double shifts and even weekends to be able to provide for it.

The stress of not being able to pay for Eddie’s health was something that Wayne could barely stand, living off cigarettes and whisky, barely eating anything, his defenses falling gradually, his immune system deteriorating, but Eddie was alive. That’s all that mattered.

“Hey, it was my guilty pleasure.” Wayne jokes with a chuckle but Eddie’s eyes felt distant as he looked at his uncle, his guardian, his father. Because maybe if he wasn’t the way he is, just maybe–

“Is that Eddie?” Wayne looks up from the camera and nods, and Eddie hears a female chuckle from far away.

“Hi Lu.” Eddie greets her and he receives an ‘Hola’ from far away. She was the caretaker of his uncle because he didn’t want to be taken to a hospital or a geriatric. He wanted to be in the peace of his home, his trailer, and that was final.

“How are you feeling boy? I know your date is coming soon–”

“Yeah, it already happened. Lasted one day as always, nothing new.” Eddie shortly replies, taking another drag of his cigarette and Wayne gives him a nod after a sigh.

“Alright, remember to visit Murphy, you have to do the–”

“Check ups, once every two months. I know Wayne, you don’t really have to take care of me like that anymore.” Eddie says with a hint of sadness behind it, and Wayne frowns at that, chuckling softly.

“You’re my boy, I’m always going to take care of you, no matter how old you get.” He replied with a wrinkled smile and Eddie felt the lump in his throat starting to form. He gulped it down, feeling the all too well burning begin to happen in his eyes, but he gets interrupted by Wayne’s coughing, making Eddie look up at him alarmingly.

His coughs turned to wheezes as Lucia rushed to start the oxygen machine that was always next to Wayne’s bed, and the next thing Eddie was looking at the ceiling as he heard his uncle wheezing through the phone. He took that moment to look up at the sky as he bit his lips into his mouth to clench and swallow the sob that wanted to escape him.

He was fighting the tears, looking at the clouds above him, trying to distract himself, trying to think of something else rather than time. Time. It was always time. Time being the worst fucking thing that’s ever to exist, because it always took and took from him, and it never gave him anything. Not a single thing.

He heard some shuffling, and he looked up at the phone again, seeing Wayne now with the oxygen mask on over his mouth and nose. His breathing was heavy and a few wheezes came out here and there.

“I feel like Darth Vader.” Wayne jokes outloud, making Eddie give a sad smile. He knew that this happened because Wayne talked too much, and forced his lungs to do so. That’s why Eddie always preferred to talk to him through text, but his uncle always insisted on seeing him.

And Eddie knew that it was because Wayne didn’t know when it would be time to go.

“You sound like him too.” Eddie continues the joke as the turmoil of feelings in his stomach starts to betray him, and he knows he has to end the call soon, because he doesn’t want his uncle to see him like this.

“I have to hang up, son. I’m tired of seeing your young face.” He always joked, always kept it lighthearted, always made sure Eddie didn’t know his pain, making sure that Eddie would always see things with a positive aspect, with a laugh, with a smile.

“I bet, I can’t stand the wrinkles on your face either. Like a bulldog.” Eddie followed on the joke and Wayne smiled through the mask.

“I love you boy.” Eddie bit onto the inside of his cheek. He was always afraid of this part. Always afraid of the part of hanging up, and he knew why Wayne said this. He was never a sentimental man to begin with, but now, as time went on, Eddie knew that Wayne was saying goodbye, just in case.

Just in case this would be the last time he ever tells Eddie he loves him.

“I love you too old man… Talk to you tomorrow, okay?” Eddie says, almost with a whimper in his tone, almost breaking as Wayne nodded at him. There was always that hope that tomorrow would come, and that he would talk to his uncle again, he always said it to keep that hope inside of him, and when his uncle responds the next day it would always make Eddie’s nerves relax, even if a bit.

“Sure thing. Goodbye.” And just like that the call ended. Eddie had forgotten about the cigarette, already a bud in his hand, still smoking a bit. He put the phone in his pocket, and stared into the small city.

A tear fell down his right eye, the knot in his belly finally undoing as a choked sob erupted from his throat. He bent down, throwing the bud towards the street, over his balcony, and he crossed his arms over the rail to hide his face into his arms, his shoulders shaking as he let himself go and feel.

Time. Time is a horrible yet unstoppable thing.

“She told me she couldn’t hang out yesterday, and now she is showing up late!” Robin whines for almost the fourth time and Eddie was getting fed up already. They were at her’s and Steve’s home, enjoying the Saturday night, drinking a few beers, just talking with one another, but Robin had a very annoying mouth sometimes, and Eddie just wanted to rip it out.

“Maybe another date?” Jonathan asks as he lays back onto the couch’s rest with a hand around Steve’s waist. Nancy walked into the room with a tray of new drinks, her specialty, Caipiroska. She was always proud of this drink, because she had perfectioned it, and of course she did, since it was her favorite. Robin immediately took one as soon as Nancy put the tray on the table.

“No! She would tell me! She always tells me everything, and lately, to be honest, she is almost MIA.” Robin scoffs, taking a big gulp of the drink. Eddie was eyeing her and he felt his chest burn once more as anger filled him up for your doings. Robin clearly saw you as a best friend, to the point she would not shut up and worry about you, and she was probably thinking you were leaving her aside.

“Tells you everything? Don’t know about that.” Eddie says as he takes a glass for himself and Robin turns to him with a glare.

“Just because she doesn’t share a few things, doesn’t make her a liar.” She explains and Eddie rolled his eyes at her. It was almost the same thing. You could be a serial killer that escaped into another state for all he knows. But no, he couldn’t sense that from you.

“But she is okay, right mi amiga?” Argyle asks as he was rolling a joint as he sat on the floor, over the other end of the coffee table.

“Yeah, I saw her at work, and she was… I don’t know… Glowing?” Robin says and Steve is the one that intervenes now.

“Didn’t she get the Dior client thing? Maybe she’s happy about that.” He says and Robin shakes her head again, taking a sip out of her drink, sighing heavily into it.

“No, no, no! This is like… Different. And yesterday at work she was just jumpy, and excited, and as soon as the day was over she ran off.” She swirled the glass on her hand, looking at the cubes inside of it. Robin trusted you, you had told her about the big announcement and she was excited for you, happy even because she knew how much this means to you.

But she also knows there’s something from this life of yours, this new life, you are hiding from her. And in this life you never held any secrets against Robin.

“Maybe she went to get laid.” Nancy comments this time, taking a sip out of her drink, and Eddie scoffs at that, shaking his head lightly, but the sound of a door opening caught their attention, turning their heads to see who just came in.

You turned to them with a bright smile on your face, holding a bag of snacks in one hand and a six pack on the other. The sound of a revving engine could be heard in the distance as you walked towards the group, coming into the light.

“Sorry I’m late, had to buy a few things first.” You put the bag on the table as Robin inspected you, squinting slightly at your hair. You always had tidy hair, but this time, it was all over your shoulders, down, combed but kind of wild, covering you all over. You were wearing the same jeans you wore to work yesterday, but the shirt was different. Your makeup looked as if it were on since yesterday as well, tidied up in the best way possible.

You licked your lips as you felt everyone’s stares, sitting down on the floor next to Argyle. You put your phone on the table, facing down, and that’s when you looked up to see everyone simply waiting for you to say something, and Robin was glaring at you, digging into your eyes to look for an answer.

“Where were you?” She asked you, and you cleared your throat, looking over at the tray of drinks and taking one for yourself.

“I said I was buying things.” You say out loud and then you hear it. Your demise. The voice that might fuck everything up in just one instant. Bring your happiness down in just one second, but your eyes almost widened when he let out a small chuckle, and almost a whisper under his breath as he looked over you from the couch.

“Fucking finally.”

Everyone turned to Eddie, looking for answers, but he kept his mouth shut, taking sips of his drink. He noticed it of course, the change in your way of moving, your body language, and your smell. He could smell the male cologne, and by your cheerfulness, your genuine cheerfulness, he knew that it was a successful encounter.

“What does he mean?” Robin asks and you were speechless, feeling your heart racing as you stared at Eddie. How did he know? How was it so easy for him to read you? Or was it the other way around? Were you too easy to read?

“Holy schmokes, who ate you brochacha?” Your eyes widened when Argyle simply swiped your hair over your right shoulder, revealing the side of your neck, and you threw your hands over it but they had already seen it. It was too late, and you grimaced as everyone gasped loudly, except for Robin.

“You hooked up with someone?!” Jonathan asks excitedly and you sigh heavily, your mood dropping slightly because it was something you wanted to possibly keep secret.

“I– Yes– but–”

“And you didn’t tell me?” Robin asks, in a low voice, almost a whisper, and when your eyes met hers, you realized the damage you caused. She was hurt, and you were the cause of it. You neglected her into telling her this amazing thing that was happening to your life after so long, but it was because you didn’t want to put yourself or Billy on the spot.

He was famous, and you didn’t need people to go blurting out that you hooked up with him.

Yet, this was a one time thing, it probably was. And your thighs, as sore as they were now, almost clenched at the memory of his lips on your skin, the way he rubbed himself on you, manhandled you against the wall, railing into you without mercy, without stopping, to the point you were panting and you weren’t verbal anymore.

Just three glasses of wine, three, and you were already panting, sweating, as you were bent over the armrest of the couch, your fingertips touching the floor beneath you, and you were wincing as your hardened nipples brushed against the fabric of the leather couch, burning them slightly.

But that, compared to what was happening in the southern part of your body, was nothing.

Billy was over you, both arms gripping on the armrest, next to your ribcage, as his hips snapped against yours, the jiggling of your backside making him groan loudly as the noises of skin slapping filled the room, alongside your moans. If you sharpened your hearing, you could also hear the squelching of your slick as he pumped himself in and out of you, such perverted sounds.

But it felt too good. Way too good.

You were chatting away on his couch, getting to know each other, talking about work, about friends, all very plain and just over the surface, nothing too deep. That was until he asked if he could kiss you, and after three glasses of wine, how could you possibly deny that request. Not when his eyes were looking at you like you were the finest buffet in existence. And the way his lips moved as he talked to you, the white teeth showing here and there after a smug smirk was directed to you.

Yes, you were gone with that.

And thank god you were gone.

“B-Billy, F-FUCK!” You moaned loudly as he pressed one hand on the small of your back, pushing you down, making you sink and arch your back downwards, letting his shaft hit that spongy part of yourself just perfectly. Your mouth hangs open, completely bewildered at this feeling that you never had. You never had someone hit your spot like this, and he was relentless about it. You heard him chuckle above you as his thrusts became snappy and slow, making you gasp and jerk at each hit.

“You sound perfect, Mousy… Keep yelling my name.” Suddenly you were empty, and you were panting against the couch, trying to lift yourself from it to look at him, wondering what happened, but your waist was grabbed, pushing you to kneel on the couch as Billy stood next to you. Your breathing turned heavy as you looked at him completely bewildered, but he didn’t say anything, only chuckled as he grabbed you by the waist and then the back of your thigh to pull you against him.

You squealed at how easily he had lifted you up from the couch, as if you were just a feather, and your legs immediately wrapped around his waist, as your arms held onto his shoulders. His skin was sticky with sweat, glistening but yet– he smelled way too good. He walked you two towards a wall, slamming your back against it as he, in one strong movement, pushed inside of you again.

“Shit–” You gasp and he silences you with a brush of his lips as he stills his hips for a few seconds.

“You’re beautiful, Mousy. So fucking beautiful.” And he seals your lips together once again as the moans and the groans were present in the room once more.

It would be a hell of a one night stand.

So, fuck it.

“I couldn’t…” You try to defend yourself and she bit the inside of her cheek, her brows furrowing even more. “I mean… It’s too… Unprofessional, Robin.” You say to her, hoping she would catch on, but she just looked at you with a confused look on her face, tilting it as she thought.

“Unprofessional? Someone at work?! Tony?! Esteban?! No, wait he is gay– Maybe Pedro?” She started rambling and you sighed, taking a sip of your drink until the coffee table shook as Robin shot up, almost into the ceiling and everyone pulled back, completely startled as they all looked at her, including you who almost spilled your drink onto the floor. “HOLY FUCKING SHIT.”

“Robin, you almost dropped the drinks on the wooden flooring– Jesus Christ!” Steve complains, like the mother he is, as he looks around for any splashes and Robin looks down at you, putting up a hand towards you.

“Tell me… You’re fucking joking.” Oh, she caught on. You gave her a small smirk, shaking your head slowly. She ran her fingers through her hair as she walked off to start pacing in the living room.

“Is there something we have to know about, or why is Robin about to have a panic attack?” Eddie asks as he looks back at his friend and then back at you. You shrug at him with the smirk still on your face and he tilted his head slightly at you, trying to read you, but this side of you was something he never saw. Something he actually never felt from you. And he couldn't pinpoint what it was.

“Holy shit… Holy shit– I mean, good for you, but what if Liana finds out? You’re gonna be super fucked! But, that’s the thing right? It’s temporary, so you know it’s fine–” She rambled and Jonathan rolled his eyes and put his hand out to you.

“Can I see the guy?” He asks and you shrug, grabbing your phone to unlock it, and going into Billy’s instagram, putting it on Jonathan’s hand. He took the phone and saw the screen, allowing Steve to see too, who was drinking off his glass and his eyes widened, spitting out his drink towards his side, drenching the couch and almost hitting Nancy who yelled in complete disgust.

“Are you FUCKING shitting me?!” Steve yells, putting the glass on the coffee table and getting up off the couch to look at you, his hands on his hips. “Are you insane?!”

“What the actual fuck is going on?!” Nancy finally screams and Jonathan, still wide eyed and in shock, tosses the cellphone towards Nancy, who chokes up on her spit, putting her hand on her chest. “Holy mother of god…”

“Lemme see.” Eddie says, getting hold of your phone now, and for some reason you felt smug that he knew about someone like Billy. That he knew for once you got what you deserved for so long. That he knew you felt good, feel good, and will feel good for a while. His eyes were showing no emotion as he looked at the instagram, frowning slightly and then giving a nod in understanding. “So, you’re fucking your client. Nice.” He tosses the phone back to you, and you roll your eyes at him.

Of course he would remind you of that aspect to dampen the mood.

“Whoa, sexy dude, good job my friend.” Argyle says as he peeks over your shoulder to see the screen.

“No, NO! Not good job! He is a model! He is just using you, you know that right?” Steve was in his mom pose, in all of its glory and you couldn’t contain the laughter that wanted to come out of your throat.

“Right, like I used him.” You retort, and Robin catches onto the past tense, stopping her rambling and pacing, and heading back to sit next to you.

“So– Hang on, was this yesterday?” She asks you and you nod at her, taking a sip of your drink and handing your glass to her so that she could wet her throat a bit.

“Yeah, it was a one time thing, I am sure of that, but I don’t mind. It was great, trust me, but I do know who he is, Steve. I am not that dumb to fall for someone like him.” At your comment, Steve relaxed, sitting down onto the couch with a sigh as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Okay… That’s good I guess, just be careful.” You knew he was protecting you from a possible heart break, but you knew better than to mess with a famous person.

But you didn’t notice someone was still staring at you. You didn’t notice the brown doe eyes that were trying to read you, investigate what was going on, or what it was that he was seeing. This was a version of you he never had the chance of seeing before. Yet, he didn’t know how to name it, maybe it was the excitement of finally getting properly laid, but there was something behind your eyes that told him that there was more than that.

And you were also hiding more than you were saying. More than you were implying, but he knew it wasn’t out of malice because he senses some kind of doubt within you. He’ll let you be, because at least you told some part of it to your friends, his friends, and that was enough.

So he sipped his drink as you whispered to Robin something, which she only looked at you with widened eyes and a blush to her face. She grabbed your hand and pulled you up from your seats on the floor, and you giggled as she pulled you away into a room.

“A fucking model, good for her!” Jonathan says as Steve scoffs next to him and his boyfriend chuckles as he leaned over to place a kiss on his cheek, making Steve smile at him as they engaged into conversation with Argyle joining them afterwards.

Eddie looked at them and then at Nancy who was fiddling with her phone and he moved closer to her on the couch, whispering towards her.

“I still don’t see a move Wheeler.” He says with a smirk to his lips and Nancy’s cheeks turned into a deep red as she rolled her eyes to whisper back, not losing her sight on her phone.

“In time, she is preoccupied with something else.” She answers him and Eddie simply scoffs, shaking his head at her.

“You’ve liked her for a fucking year now, and Robin most definitely finds you hot.” At that Nancy slowly turned to Eddie with a frown to her eyebrows, doubt displayed on her features and Eddie’s smirk turned into a soft smile.

“Really?” She asked him and he looked at her as if she were crazy.

“I am the most observant out of the group, remember that? I know everything about everyone without even asking.” He starts and Nancy was still doubtful, putting her gaze on the coffee table and then back up at Jonathan and Steve. Eddie followed her gaze and he felt the longing she had in her chest, because her eyes were filled with it.

“I just– I really like her, Eddie… But I don’t want to lose her…” She explains and Eddie knew that she meant to lose Robin as a friend because Nancy has feelings for her. But Eddie also knew the way Robin looked at Nancy when she bent over to pick something up, or the way Robin has the bravery to brush her fingers with hers as Nancy hands her a glass or a bottle of something.

He notices. But Nancy doesn’t.

“Well, I don’t think Robin is that shallow either, she won’t stop being your friend, no matter what.” He answers this time and Nancy looks at him, giving him a soft smile and a nod. She will try, maybe not too straightforward, but maybe start flirting with her, slowly. Eddie leaned back onto the couch’s backrest as you and Robin came back, sitting back down on the floor.

“I need a drink after hearing about heterosexual sex.” Robin says out loud with a grimace as she grabs her old glass and takes a long sip, despite the liquid being in a warm temperature now. You giggled and shook your head at her, but she was the one that asked for details.

Your phone vibrated in your hand, and you looked down to look at the notification, smiling as you saw the text.

‘You kinda forgot something at home.’

You wanted to kick your feet, giggle and just put the phone against your chest, but you took a deep breath to keep your smile down, not wanting to catch anyone’s attention as you opened the message to see the picture he sent you, but the smirk that came to your lips as you saw a picture of your thong, hanging off his index finger, was one you couldn’t hide.

‘Save it for me okay? I'll get it tomorrow.’

The part that you are avoiding telling them, is how Billy treated you afterwards. You didn’t expect him to let you stay the night at his apartment. You didn’t expect him to cook you breakfast this morning. You didn’t expect him to run a shower for you. You didn’t expect him to tell you about his sister. You didn’t expect him to take you out to lunch. You didn’t expect him to cuddle with you as you both watched Friends together. You didn’t expect him to offer to drive you to your friends’ place.

You avoided telling them that Billy Hargrove, did not simply fuck and ran.

You avoided telling them that you actually have a second date.

You avoided telling them that you didn't plan, not for a single second, to let Billy Hargrove be a one night stand.

Because he had told you, right before entering this house, as you were both in Billy's Camaro, and sharing a goodbye kiss;

"See you tomorrow night? I'll pick you up."

And you couldn't say no.

End of Chapter 9

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A/N: I didn't expect to write angst and smut in the same chapter, but it is what it is my dudes. ALSO, WE NOW KNOW NANCY IS CRUSHING ON ROBIN.

Taglist: @enam3l @katethetank @seatnights @oliskitten @bebe07011 @seventhlevelofhell @babez-a-licious @arsenicred @bl4ckt00thgr1n @harrysgothicbitch @emma77645 @fictionalcomforts @hellv1ra @sarcastically-defensive17 @lodeddiperrodrick @corrodedcoffincumslut @peea90 @guyco @sidthedollface2 @elegantkoalapaper @ghost-proofbaby @take-everything-you-can

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meet-me-backstage · 4 months

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𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐄𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ⎈ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 🦇 Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 🦇 You get dragged into the unfathomable events at Starcourt Mall by your hopeless crush on Billy Hargrove and new-found middle-schooler friends. You struggle to cope with the trauma which gradually costs you your popular cheerleader reputation when you return to high school for senior year. Though this loss first appears to be the end of the world, you learn that there's worse things than levelling down in popularity.

Though even in darkness, there is always a light - for you this is Eddie Munson, who you gain an unlikely friendship in and fall for him in the process.

𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒂 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒔𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒍𝒐𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒖𝒑𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏𝒔, 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈!

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 🦇 smoking, mention of and consumption of drugs, horror themes, violence (in the upside down and probs Steve losing another fight (•̀ᴗ•́)و jk jk he's king), nightmares, mention of and consumption of alcohol, mention of and a near death experience, death, bad language, blood, bullying, mention of vomit and vomiting, some domestic (mainly verbal and emotional) abuse(‼️), mention of suicidal thoughts, mention of suicide, mention of self-harm, allusion to eating disorder and smUUT so you have to be 18+ to read this series❗️

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 🦇 4K words.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 🦇 blood, horror themes, violence, death, mention of suicidal thoughts and mention of suicide, domestic (verbal) abuse and a near death experience.

𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 - 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝, 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠!

𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲, 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐄𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝! <𝟑

⇜ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 ⎈ 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬

🦇 𝟒𝐭𝐡 𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐲, 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟓 🦇

"Superstar!" Mason calls out for you, he'd arrived home from one of his friend's homes that had instruments in their garage - some musicians who were dropouts from Hawkins High. You are yet to meet them, but he raved about them like they were an answered prayer of his. "I'm in the band - like, officially," his voice excited but in a whisper, not wanting your mom or dad to hear because they had no idea that he’d been searching musicians to form a band in the first place - it had been a secret between the two of you.

You are stood in the front yard secretly practicing basketball and upon hearing Mason's voice you turn around, the replacement ball that Mason had got you in your hands - you feel happy for him, but then you remember him mentioning an opportunity to record with the band somewhere far away from Hawkins. "Wicked - so, that means - you're leaving Hawkins, right?" You pout.

"I have to go before this shithole ruins me - it's a once in a lifetime opportunity," he whispers, coming closer - he could see, beneath the happiness you feel, that you’re sad... sad that he'd no longer be around to play basketball with you, to listen and dance to music with you, to cheer you on through everything, "I'll still be here with you - in the form of... I don't know," he looks down, his mousy hair falling in front of his face. His blue eyes land on the ball and they light up, "My cassettes! Keep that Black Sabbath one you love so much - and I'll send letters, I promise."

You hold your own hands, fiddling with your fingers, "When - are you gonna go?" You nervously look up at him.

He bites his lips together, clearly feeling guilty because he knows that you don’t have anyone else who accepts you for who you are... not even your mom or sister. "Tonight," he sighs, "I'll be sneaking out once everyone is in bed... I'll write a note for mom, dad - Becky... and we're all planning to meet at Andy’s van, he’s the bassist - he's gonna drive us to this record company... which is - it's a long drive away," he tries to contain his excitement, but it shows in his voice.

"But - high school," you frown, "You're going before I even start," you huff, knowing that it's going to be miserable without him and that Rebecca would be looking out for you instead... which you know is going to be miserable because she has been embarrassed to have you as a sister ever since she started high school, even going to the extent of telling you to stay your room on the occasion that she'd bring friends from Hawkins High home for a slumber party or movie night...

You know that she can’t just shut you away at high school… she’d desperately try to change you or completely ignore you.

Without Mason you have nobody apart from Chrissy... who is a good friend, but she’d been raving about hanging out with the likes of Rebecca and the rest of the cheer team at Hawkins High for months.

"I'll miss you," You mumble, not liking to admit it, which makes him chuckle and he ruffles your hair with his right hand.

"I'll miss you too, superstar - that's why I'm telling you all this... rather than in the note I'm leaving them," he gestures towards your home, "They'd never let me go... skip senior year if they knew it was for drumming," he makes a look of sarcastic horror on his face, which makes you giggle with him after, "It might take a while - to be settled somewhere else, but once I am hopefully you will have graduated and you can join me."

"You don't have to ask me twice,” You groan softly, still dreading the thought of starting high school without him being there, "That's if I'm not killed by Becky for raining on her high school parade."

Mason forces a grin, frustration clear on his features by the way that the lines between his brows show, "I'm sorry I'm not going to be there to - defend you," he sighs, "You gotta promise me that you'll stay strong, don't change yourself for anyone - not even mom or Becky… because there's gonna be someone else out there, like me, who's gonna love you for who you are," he places his hand under your chin, looking down at you with fond eyes, "Who's gonna want to be friends with you no matter what, who - I dunno, loves Black Sabbath as much as we do and will jump on the bed with you to all their records, okay?"

You stare up at him solemnly, but hopeful that you can find a friend like that - Eddie is the first that pops into your head when Mason mentions Black Sabbath.

You stir in discomfort during your sleep, your eyelids fluttering.

Your brother has disappeared now, vanished into thin air.

You notice that it has turned unusually dark suddenly with ominous-looking grey clouds towering above you, rain is falling on your head and behind you your mom is yelling, "Where is she?!" Followed by Rebecca yelling back, "I don't know, mom - I'm going out to look!"

Rebecca has a yellow jacket on over some denim overalls and is grasping a torch as she runs out of the house while your mom stood at the doorframe, "Don't even think about coming back until you find her - I mean it, Rebecca," your mom scowls as Rebecca starts to wipe at her face, her make-up smudging her eyes, making them look bruised.

You pout, feeling bad for your sister, what you’d put her through by searching for Billy and Heather instead of coming straight home.

Rebecca walks straight past you, completely ignoring you stood right outside your shared home and you watch her, worried... confused, "Becky?!" You call, but she continues to walk, "Rebecca, I'm right here!" You shout now, which she seems to hear this time because she starts to slow down until her walking comes to a complete halt... her movement is unusually slouchy, which is very unlike her. You squint your eyes, watching her, she is as still as a statue, "Rebecca?"

She turns slowly, her skin now pale, almost purple under the dull night sky - she looks... zombified. Like Billy had looked in the sauna... and like how pale you had been when you witnessed the sauna test that your newfound middle schooler friends had tried on Billy, you froze on the spot not knowing what to do because it was a situation you never expected to be in. All you could do was scream 'you're hurting him!' repeatedly until you collapsed into a sobbing mess as El forcefully lifted Billy into the air and chucked him through the window of the community pool with her powers.

In this moment you can only tremble... you don’t know what to do without Eleven, she'd protected all of you, though at first you didn’t quite understand, not until you saw that thing at the hospital - a fleshy monster made up of residents from Hawkins. Your eyes widen at the realisation as Rebecca sinisterly storms towards is you, not blinking, her skin is patterned with protruding purple veins, "R-Rebecca?" You manage to gather the strength to speak, but she doesn’t respond, "I'm - sor-."

She grabs your neck with both her hands, squeezing, which makes you gasp out an involuntary scream - her head tilts as she watches you suffer.

"Y-you - don't - havetodothis!" You gurgle, tightly grasping onto her wrists with your hands, trying to break yourself free.

Rebecca's eyes are glossy, but she is dead behind them, "Yes I do - ever since you were born you've been nothing but a misbehaving little brat... now you're going to pay - you're going to stay still and let him take you," Him? You shake your head desperately and she smiles eerily in response, "It's not going to hurt one bit - and then you'll be gone at last."

"No!" You scream violently in your sleep, only to be shaken awake by Max.

It had all been a sick, twisted, messed up dream.

You stare up at Max, confused when you see the red bruise under her eye, that’s when it all comes back to you. Billy had knocked you both out, hit you so hard you’d had such a realistic concussion dream. "Wake up," Max whispers, shaking you until you nod your head and then she moves onto Mike, who is still knocked out.

You are at the back area of Starcourt after trying to trick the Mind Flayer into thinking that Eleven was being driven away by Jonathan, Nancy, Steve, Robin and Lucas when she was actually still at the mall - you’d messed up... you admit that you’re still pretty new to this, but the three of you were so desperate to help Eleven that you hadn’t been discreet enough.

You and Max had tried to keep Billy away... convinced that you could somehow knock whatever it was out of him as he strode towards you, but you were very wrong... clearly.

You hear fireworks continuously going off, making you flinch and turn away from the sound, noticing that Eleven is not with you, "Max - she's gone, El's gone - and Billy!" You frantically stand yourself up, your legs wobble for a few moments before you let your care towards these kids that had come into your life on a horrific whim sink into you and send you running towards the loud bangs in the main area of the mall.

Terror sinks into your stomach, it gets worse with every step you get closer until you see it again, the massive fleshy monster in the middle of the mall, the monster that had tried to kill you while you sneaked from counter to counter of clothes in The Gap earlier... it was not what you expected when you told Dana after your shift there that you’d be back soon - not under these… circumstances. Neon sparks are flying off of this thing as it roars and you halt your running abruptly, your converse making a squeaking sound.

Max and Mike are on either side of you, you laugh breathlessly as the monster seems to be in pain.

You thought that you were winning against the wicked-looking evil before you...

Until, in your lower peripheral vision you can see movement… your face completely falls at the sight of Billy standing up in front of Eleven, examining the monster in a frozen state of confusion. His skin is no longer purple, sweat no longer dripping from his features and no veins can be seen. What had been left from the Mind Flayer on Billy are dark scars on his back.

The past few days seem to flash before your eyes, you’d gotten yourself so wrapped up in this new secret side of Hawkins that had been under your nose, wound yourself up in this group of people that you’d never even spoken to before at school and now was sharing traumatic life or death situations with them - you’d even held one of Nancy Wheeler's guns to try and protect the kids from the same monster at Hopper’s cabin - and Steve 'the hair' Harrington was involved in all of this?!

You’d never even had the chance to acknowledge your response to Billy's last note to you, let alone talk to him about it... and now it’s too late...

A broken sob leaves your trembling lips as one of the tentacles that had tried to kill you before shot towards Eleven, making her scream... but it doesn’t get anywhere near her because it is stopped in it's tracks by Billy, who steps forward, protecting Eleven by catching the mouth of this tentacle in his hands.

Your eyes are wide and you let out a scream. You can’t let this happen to Billy… You’d gathered that there had also been so many words left unsaid between him and Max after finding out about everything he'd gone through when you witnessed Eleven enter his childhood trauma and memories with her mind... you want to help him, need to help, "No!" You yell.

I'm crazy for doing this, even thinking it.

In a flash, you’re sprinting towards Billy and the monster. You whisper profanities under your breath and ignore Max and Mike's yelling for you to turn away... you knew that you needed to take matters into your own hands to save Billy now that you’d run out of fireworks and the monster's attention is solely on him - and besides…

it's too late to turn back now.

You try desperately to ignore the monster snarling next to you because you know that if you looked, you’d be running away from it. You just focus on the strain on Billy's face, it breaks your heart as you remember all the specific moments you’d spent together where he'd smiled at you with that smug grin, cheered for you, danced with you... even if the last time had been to piss off your sister, it felt real to you and you hoped that if you’d just had a heart to heart, that it would change everything between the two of you - that you’d understand one another.

"B-Billy," you sob while grabbing onto his arm, which is being engulfed by the fleshy monster. You then bring a hand to his cheek, "Billy - I forgive you," you stroke your thumb over his cheekbone and desperately try to pull his arms away, but you can’t... as you continue to try to save him another tentacle flings out of this monster and punctures Billy's stomach, which makes him gutturally groan.

"L-little m-iss - keg - qu- qu- you n-eed to - st-ay - aw-ay," he manages to utter those words between more groans as the monster continues to impale him with more tentacles, but you can’t move... he is trying to protect you, though nothing but anger towards this monster floods through you as it grasps Billy's life in it's tentacles... ripping him away again.

You growl, your teeth grinding together as you reach for one of the tentacles. You grab it tightly, trying to ignore the grossness of its slimy and muscly texture... you grip onto it as hard as you can and scream as you try to rip it completely away from Billy's hip but it is gripping onto him so hard that you only manage to rip a piece of the monster’s flesh away...

It makes the monster scream in anger while you scream in pain as the flesh you ripped away from the monster grips onto your skin, trying to burrow into it like a tick. It is so strong that it rips into my wrist and wriggles into you while you try with your other hand to get it off, but you can’t. After that you see it burrowing underneath your skin, wriggling inside your arm and crawling up it and hiding somewhere inside you... never to be found again, you wail in horror.

You’d fallen on the floor during your fight with this piece of the Mind Flayer, your wrist uncontrollably bleeds, creating a small puddle of blood on the floor around your hand.

Your chest is rising and falling rapidly as the Mind Flayer sends one last tentacle straight into Billy's heart. Everyone's screams can be heard, making you tear your eyes away from your bleeding wrist and the pain coming from your wound... I tried, but failed... it’s not like I have much to live for once this is over, I wish it had been me... you continue to sob uncontrollably as Billy is lifted by these tentacles and, like the monster had heard your thoughts, it faces you and you don’t even try to move away, you just stare as it towers over me, it's mouth open wide, baring it’s many layers of teeth.

You are ready for it to snap at you, for it to send a tentacle to end you, but before it could even just roar once more, the monster suddenly loses it’s footing and collapses to the ground... it almost tramples you but you shuffle away on my bum quick enough to not be suffocated to death.

It had completely sabotaged the mall and had even set it alight...

You are frozen and alone as the others hug.

You hear Billy gurgling to your side and quickly snap back to your senses by crawling towards him, broken sobs leaving your lips. He has blood splattered all over his mouth and his chest, "B-illy," You croak out as Max runs to join you by Billy’s side, "You're going to get through this, I believe in you, Billy - please!" You quote one of the notes he'd given you and place your hand on his chest, not caring that his blood is spilling onto your hand and yours is spilling on him.

Max stands over her brother and starts to shake him, "Billy - Billy, get up, please," Max pleads continuously, tears streaming down her face.

Billy continues to cough and he looks at you, his mouth tweaking upwards in pain, reminding you again of all the smiles he'd given you at the parties, in school. You hoped you’d see more of them, receive more notes from him.

You remembered your favorite night with Billy - at Tina's party, you were both drunk and he complimented your hair, then you complimented his and somehow got yourselves into a drunken 'who can flip their hair better' competition.

"Mine's swoosh-ier than yours," you bobbed your head to the sound of the music and rolled your head in circles, which made your hair sway chaotically around, hitting Billy's face, which caused him blow raspberries to try and get your hair out of his mouth.

He wiped his mouth and laughed, shaking his head at you with that priceless grin that made you hopelessly think about him all day everyday, "Not bad, little miss - it moves - nnicely and all, but I think mine adds a little m-more volume into - the mix," he slurred and brought his hand up to fiddle with his hair, he then moved his head from side to side with the biggest smile on his face.

You blushed, taking advantage of just being able to watch him having fun, "Mhm 'not bad', Hargrove," you giggled.

He cradled his forehead once he'd come to a stop, his hair was all over his face, "You know what - you win. I do not have the stomach for a second round of that," he laughed, moving his brows suggestively, which made you blush even more - and like he read your mind, he leant forward and kissed your cheek, his breath fanned your face, "'M gonna get us another drink."

You were giddy inside because he seemed so happy, like he had not a care in world - with that tweaked up smile permanently etched onto his face had…

Your mouth tweaks upwards at the memory, but it fades quickly as the dream of spending more time together outside of those stupid parties gradually fades.

Billy’s glossy eyes slowly drag away from you and he looks at Max, who is hovering over him completely now, "I'm sorry," his final words.

He stops gurgling and his body goes limp as he inhales, taking his last breath, "Billy, wake up - Billy, get up - please," Max pleads before realisation spreads across her features... he is dead.

Gone. No - I can't believe it.

You stare down at him in disbelief, "N-no," you shake your head hysterically and start to pump his chest in desperate hopes that he'd take another breath and that life would reach his eyes again.

Max watches you, also in hysteria, watching your hands move up and down on his chest... hoping, only for defeat to take over again and she breaks down, sobbing louder, "Stop! It's - no use - y-you’re only - hurting yourself."

You keep shaking your head, your tears spilling over Billy's bloodstained vest, "There - has to be a way!" You cry and suddenly feel yourself being dragged away from Billy's body by Max. She collapses onto your lap and hugs you tightly... the girl that had cut you the least amount of slack since you’d joined the friend group. You bow your head and wrap your arms around her, sobbing in each other's arms.

You can’t let go of each other after that, you both limp out of the mall and you let her lean onto you until you are made to go your separate ways by a group of firefighters. You’re now stood alone, watching all of your friends reuniting with their families, searching for your mom or Rebecca, who are nowhere to be seen. Your eyes set themselves on Eleven, who is stood alone too, searching for Hopper.

You do your best to ignore the pain and blood flowing out of your wrist by holding your other hand over the cut.

You take one last look at the mall - the neon light of the Starcourt Mall sign, the orange smoke from the fire inside merging into the sky... it looks like a nightmare, but it is real. You take one shaky breath before collapsing onto the wet concrete.

You see yourself from a third person perspective. You are levitating and being held up like Billy had been by that monster.

You are face to face with it again, only you are in Billy's exact place - it's features even scarier than the real thing. It seems to be angry with you - it wants you, but before you can scream for help from Max, anybody - a tentacle of smoke flies towards you, holding your wrist and disappearing into the cut that had been made by the flesh of the Mind Flayer before. You scream in pain as you feel nothing but it coursing through your body, and then as if to shut you up, this Mind Flayer made up of smoke sends another tentacle to your mouth.

Your arms uncontrollably fight to get away, but you feel yourself being held down. "Control her - hold her down!"

You see a bright light directly above you, at first you think you are slipping into death… then you see blurred faces with blue rubber hats and masks in nurses uniforms, they shine a torch at your eyes which snap you back to your senses and makes you blink profusely.

“We’re not sure, Ms - but we can confirm that she attempted suicide in the mall.”

"Is - is she awake?!" You hear your mom's panicked voice. She appears in your eye line, standing over you like the doctor's are.

"Your daughter has lost a lot of blood but we've got the bleeding under control," One of the doctor's above you speaks. You can’t move - they must've sedated you, "Sit down."

"No - I will not sit down - you don't understand - I have a missing daughter out there!" Your mom scolds the doctors and points out of the window in the hospital room. Rebecca is missing? Your eyes widen and the doctor's notice because they finally turn the torch off and are writing something down on the clipboard at the foot of the bed you’re tucked into.

"You have to stay, Ms - your daughter here is regaining consciousness, we may need you to ease her when she's able to talk - we can call the authorities for you about your other daughter," the doctor explains and your mom looks less than content about being advised to stay - she purses her lips, wanting to argue, "I'll get someone to call."

The doctor leaves and you and your mom are left alone in the room. Your eyes are the only things that can move, you have slight control over your wounded wrist which twitches, making the machine beside your bed beep. The sudden sound attracts the attention of your mom, she notices that you’re looking at her and walks towards your bed - you expect her, for once, to be relieved that you’re with her, and alive.

"Do you see what you've done to me?! What you've done to this family?!" She scolds you, towering over the bed so that you can see nothing but her disappointed and distressed face, she looks dishevelled, her hair messy and damp, her eyes are surrounded by dark rings from not sleeping, "Becky went out looking for you days ago - since your shift at Starcourt and hasn't come back," she sobs angrily and you manage to open your mouth, making a strained noise, "She - went to that trailer park - to see if you were there and she hasn't called - neither has your father," she spits out each word so harshly and so quickly that you can hardly keep up, her tears falling onto your face, "My Becky," she sobs.

What if the dream I had earlier was true?

If it was, you already knew that Rebecca was most likely flayed, like Billy and Heather - Mr and Mrs Holloway and Mrs Driscoll. And what about dad? The thought of your dream being true, your eyes turn glossy and tears start to form in the corner of your eyes. Strained noises leave your mouth, they can’t just burst out because you don’t have the physical strength.

"It's all your fault," your mom sobs, pointing her finger at you, nothing but hatred in her eyes when she looks at you... she is right, it is. If you didn't already feel aching guilt before, you definitely feel it now, especially since there had been this underlying adrenaline you felt during this entire experience... after being locked in your bedroom for a month and being confined by your mom's strict rules.

It was terrible, it was scary, but you also felt free in a situation that led to so many people's deaths... including those close to you, those you love.

Your wrist starts to throb from from under your skin as you hear a gravelly, sinister voice in your head while yours flutter shut: 'They're dead and it's all your fault, little miss thief'.

⇝ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐞 ⎈ 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆!!!!! 𝐈𝐭'𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲 <𝟑

𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 ‘𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐄𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲’ 𝐨𝐫 ’𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧’ 𝐭𝐚𝐠-𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰!

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ↯

𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐄𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲

@sadbitchfangirl @ali-r3n @hostedparties-and-starvedmybody

𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

@introvertedmouse @munsonology @fastnights @kathieycarrerarosshley @marjoriea13 @goldengunspinkrosses-blog @lolalanaie @neteyamsluvts

⎈

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hiraeth-witch-11 · 1 year

Text

Bond to Happen Master List

Billy Russo wasn't expecting to befriend the strange witch he'd hired to keep an eye out for his company. He definitely hadn't expected to care about her. That hadn't been part of the plan. A plan he was quickly having to rewrite as things spiraled out of control. He needed to be free of Rawlins once and for all, no matter the cost. Frank could never find out about Kandahar and everything that had happened leading up to his family's death. Billy was going to figure out how to keep his money, his power, and what was left of his family. This witch would be Billy's ace up his sleeve. He just needed to make sure she was bound to his side first.

Part 1: Meeting the Devil

Part 2: Meeting Matt Murdock

Part 3: The Punisher

Part 4: A Girl's Night Out

Part 5: The Monster They Saw Me As

Part 6: Meeting Billy Russo

Part 7: Team Bonding

Part 8: You Can Trust Me

Part 9: Game Night With Billy

Part 10: Only One Bed

Part 11: What if I'm a Mistake?

Part 12: Most definitely not a date... Right?

Past 13:

#the punisher #billy russo x reader #daredevil #witch!reader #slow burn #fluff #angst #canon typical violence #yandere!billy russo #everyone's traumatized #forced relationship #fantastical racism #only one bed #female rage #hurt/comfort

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jhutchismyl0verb0y · 12 days

Text

#fake cowboy #billy burn 2019 #billy burn #burn 2019 #burn movie 2019 #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson x reader #joshy <3 #josh hutcherson x female reader #thank you #tumblr milestone #billy burn smut #save a horse ride a cowboy #ride #cowboy

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sxrenityy · 2 years

Text

beneath a sky on the verge of falling down

eddie munson x f! reader

❝Feel like I’ve been living life asleep; love so strong it makes me feel so weak. Are you lonely?❞

- Or you are in an abusive relationship with Billy Hargrove until one day, he asks you to buy weed from local “freak” Eddie Munson.

Things change.

angst, hurt/comfort, slow burn, angst with a happy ending, friends to lovers, dorks in love, trauma, eventual smut, eventual romance, drama, eddie munson is a sweetheart

☆ ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40241961/chapters/100794699

⚠️TW: ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP (abuse not from Eddie). Explicit verbal, physical, and non-explicit sexual.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #slow burn #angst #eddie munson x female reader #hurt/comfort #unhealthy relationships #billy hargrove #eddie munson x you

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cicimunson · 2 years

Text

Dollhouse Part 2

Chapter Summary: You go to Eddie’s house to get Billy’s drugs and realize he’s different than how he seems.

(Series Summary, Pairings and Characters listed on Part 1.)

Chapter Warnings: Drugs use, physical abuse

Word Count: 2.5k+

Part 1 3 4 5 6 7

“Welcome to my humble abode. Make yourself at home, or whatever.” Eddie opens the trailer door for you and smirks. “Sorry if it’s not up to your standards, the cleaning lady has the week off.”

“Haha.” You stick out your tongue at him.

He chuckles and walks past you. “You can just chill in the living room, I gotta take a leak.”

“Thanks for sharing.” You roll your eyes.

He disappears down the hall as you glance around the room. Sure, it’s no palace, but it’s not a hovel either. The furniture is old but not worn out. There’s a homemade throw tossed on the back of the couch, and you briefly wonder if Eddie’s mom made it. You run your fingers over the yarn, looking at pictures on the wall. There’s Eddie at various ages, standing by a lake with a scowl, holding an acoustic guitar with a goofy grin, beaming over a chocolate birthday cake.

You venture down the hall, stopping at a door when you smell weed and stale beer. It’s half open so you peek inside. The first thing that catches your eye is a beautiful electric guitar hanging on the wall.

Oh, pretty.

You can’t resist getting a closer look. You move into the room, noting the various tapes stacked on the floor and the band art on the wall. There’s drawings of dragons and swords sprawled on the dresser.

I didn’t know Eddie was an artist.

You eye his guitar once more and reach up to strum the strings.

“Ahem.”

You whirl and see Eddie standing in the doorway, his arms crossed.

“No one touches my guitar but me. Also, I said to chill in the living room.”

“Shit, sorry. It’s really nice.” You gesture to the artwork on the dresser. “You draw?”

“Yeah, only dragons and shit. I’m not a real artist or anything. No sunsets, no flowery landscapes.”

“Art is subjective.” You murmur, still glancing around the room. “It doesn’t have to be pretty or flowery.”

He looks surprised. “Right.”

You swallow hard when you notice a pair of handcuffs hanging on the wall.

Of course he’s into some weird shit. And I’m alone with him at his house. I did not think this one through.

“Those work, you know, if you wanna try them on.” He teases.

You feel your cheeks turning red. “Um, no thanks.”

Eddie chuckles. “Are you finished exploring?”

You nod, hurrying to the door. You accidentally kick over a stack of tapes and Eddie groans.

“Shit, shit, sorry.” You mumble. You drop to your knees and start picking them up. “Did you have these in a certain order, or?”

“Jesus. Just put them on the nightstand, I’ll organize them later.”

“Sorry.” You repeat, stacking them as quickly as you can. You put them where he said, your gaze falling to an open pack of condoms sitting by an ashtray.

You blush again.

Eddie’s eyes land on the condoms. He grins. “You wanna try those out, too?”

“No, no, no.” You practically sprint back to the living room.

You hear him rustling around, then he follows you up the hall. He sees your nervous expression and frowns.

“Hey, I was just kidding. Giving you a hard time for being nosy is all. I’m sorry.”

You don't respond and he lays a hand on your shoulder, making you jump.

"Seriously, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"I'm not. I'm fine. Just in a hurry."

He doesn't look convinced but drops it. "Here." He shoves a bag in your hand. "An ounce is forty bucks."

"Shit. I don't know if I have forty." You pull your money out of your jacket pocket. "I have twenty-five. I don't suppose you do IOUs?"

"Not for new customers, no."

"I swear I'm good for it, Eddie. I can bring it to you tomorrow."

He shakes his head. "Despite appearances, this is a business, Y/N. If I let everyone that buys from me short me, my business goes under, you understand?"

Billy is going to kill me. He's literally going to kill me.

You blink back tears.

Fuck, do not cry.

Eddie notices, and his expression softens.

"Who told you about my weakness?"

You give him a confused look. "Huh?"

"Pretty girl tears. My weakness."

He thinks I'm pretty?

He sighs. "Look, if you tell anyone, and I mean anyone, that I let you buy from me with an IOU, I'll never sell to you or your friends again, okay? No matter how much you cry."

"Are you serious? Eddie, thank you!" You throw your arms around him.

He flinches at first, but his hands slowly come up to rest on your back.

"You're welcome. But like I said, not a word." He pulls away and frowns. "I really am a bleeding heart, aren't I?"

You giggle. "For sure. You're a saint, Munson. An absolute godsend."

"That's nicer than the names I'm usually called."

"I don't call you names…do I?" You frown.

He shrugs his shoulders. "You tell me. You didn't call me an animal at lunch today?"

Shit.

"I, uh, I did. But I wasn't intending to be mean, I swear. I was just trying to distract Jason before he did something stupid. I really didn't mean anything by it."

He shakes his head. "Excuses, but no apology."

"What? Of course I'm sorry, Eddie. I didn't know you heard me. I didn't know I upset you."

His eyes darken. "You give yourself too much credit. It didn't upset me. I don't let the shit you and your friends say get to me."

"They're not bad people, Eddie. They just do and say bad things, sometimes. It's not personal."

"Yeah, maybe not to you."

"Eddie-"

"Do you need a ride?" He interrupts. "How are you getting home?"

I didn't think that far ahead. I've got to take this to Billy before I meet up with Jason.

"Would you mind? It's a long walk to my house."

"I don't mind."

"Thank you. For the ride, and for the, uh, drugs."

He nods and the two of you walk out to the van.

He opens the door for you and then climbs into the driver's seat.

You both ride in silence for a few minutes.

"You know, you were flirting with me today. In the cafeteria, I mean."

Your mouth drops open. "I was not!"

He grins. "You winked at me, and you waved. How is a guy supposed to take that?"

"I was being polite! You winked at me first." You protest.

"Uh-huh. Does your boyfriend know that you go around winking at other guys?" He teases.

"Eddie Munson. I was not flirting." You insist.

Liar.

He reaches over and takes your hand. "Whatever you need to tell yourself, dearest."

You snatch it away and he laughs.

"It's okay, Y/N, it's just us. You can admit it."

I may kill him.

"I liked your little speech, that's it."

"My speech?"

"Yeah. It made sense. My little sister's friends are really into that game. I think some of them even play with you. It's harmless. You're not doing anything wrong."

He looks away from the road to study your face, convinced you're messing with him.

When he doesn't see a trace of sarcasm or cruelty, he smiles at you. Beams at you.

"You have such a pretty smile." You say out loud without thinking.

He looks surprised. "You think so?"

You blush. "I mean, yeah. It's a nice smile."

"You said pretty."

"I meant pretty nice."

"That's not what you said."

"It's what I meant, though."

"You have a pretty smile, too."

"Eddie, that's not what I meant." You insist. "Why is it so hot in this van?" You tug your jacket off.

"Sorry, the air's busted. I'd say you can roll down the window, but it's messed up, too." He replies sheepishly.

"Hey, no complaints. I don't even have a car. I have to use my mom's."

"She still out of town?"

Huh?

"How did you know that?"

"Your brother-"

"Step-brother." You correct.

That fucker is no blood relation of mine.

"He buys me from me sometimes. We talk."

"I didn't know the two of you were friends."

"I didn't say that. I said we talk."

"Why aren't you friends?"

He pulls into your driveway and puts the van in park. "Honestly? He's kind of a dick. We just light one up every now and then. He invited me to a party at your house this weekend."

What?!

"A party, at my house? Are you serious?"

"I'm not coming, if that's what you're worried about."

He's throwing a party? How can he be so stupid? The girls will be home. They can't be around him and his stupid friends.

"You okay?"

You turn and give him a tight smile. "I'm fine. Thank you for the ride."

He shoves the weed bag into your hands.

"Where do you want me to meet you tomorrow?" You ask. "To pay you back, I mean."

"You can just swing by my place, if that works for you."

You nod. "It does. Thanks again, Eddie." You start to get out of the van.

"You know what?"

"Hmm?"

"You can forget about paying me back."

"What?"

"Yeah, I'm willing to forgive your debt. If you do one thing for me."

Oh Lord.

"What's that?" You ask, wincing when you sound nervous.

He leans in close to you, his face inches from yours. You can't help but stare into his eyes.

He really is good-looking. The hair threw me off, but he's cute as hell under all that frizz.

"Admit you were flirting with me today."

Is he serious?

"Eddie-"

"It's no biggie either way. I just want to hear you admit that I didn't imagine it."

What's the harm in telling the truth? It's not like anyone would believe him if he talked.

"Fine, Munson." You sigh. "You're right. I flirted with you today."

He grins. Despite yourself, you grin back at him.

"I knew it. And you do think I have a pretty smile, don't you?"

"Don't push it." You warn with a laugh, hopping out of the van.

"You know, you could still come by tomorrow, if you want. I could show you some more of my drawings." He shrugs his shoulders. "Or whatever."

Do I want to see him again? I think I do. Wow. I wanna spend time with Eddie Munson. Is the universe collapsing?

He looks nervous, waiting for your response.

You wink at him. "See you then, Munson."

__________

You slip inside the front door, not surprised to find Billy sitting in a recliner, arms crossed and scowling.

"Where the fuck have you been? Your boyfriend dropped the girls off almost an hour ago. He wanted to wait on you but I told him to get lost."

Fantastic.

"I was getting your drugs, remember?"

You toss the bag in his lap.

He glances down at it, then glares at you. "An ounce isn't cheap. How did you pay for it?"

"With my babysitting money."

He doesn't look convinced. "Uh-huh. You bought Max a new Walkman last week, but still had enough money for this?"

"The Wheelers gave me extra for staying over a few hours the other night." You lie.

He nods, seeming to accept your explanation. You breathe a sigh of relief. Suddenly, he's on his feet. You take a step back but he grips your shoulder, pushing down. Your knees buckle.

"Billy, let go of me. I got what you wanted."

"You think I'm stupid? You think I don't know exactly how much money you had on you?"

"Stop, you're hurting me." You hiss. You don't dare yell for fear of waking Max and Sarah.

"So tell me, how did you pay for this? Did you fuck someone for weed, Y/N? Are you that big of a slut?"

"No, Billy, I didn't do anything. " You whimper, tears landing on your cheeks. "Please, let me go."

Please, before one of the girls gets up and sees this.

There's a knock at the door. Billy fists your hair, forcing you to look up at him.

"Keep your fucking mouth shut, you hear me?"

You nod. He lets you go, shoving you to the side as he stalks to the door and opens it.

"What's up, Munson?"

Eddie. Shit. What is he doing?

You look up and meet his eyes, forcing a smile. Eddie takes in your messy hair and wet face, looking shocked.

"Munson? You need something?" Billy snaps.

"Uh, Y/N, you left your jacket in my car."

He holds it out to you.

You force a smile and take it from his hands. "Thanks, Eddie. I would have been looking for it in the morning."

Billy glances back and forth between the two of you. "You two hang out?"

"Sure, we're old friends." Eddie quips.

"Uh-huh. Well tell me something, friend, did my sister buy weed from you tonight?"

Eddie looks at you and you give a quick nod.

Fuck, just tell him.

"Uh, yeah, she did. I assume it was for you?"

"Yeah, it was. How did she pay?"

You plead with Eddie with your eyes.

"Um, she gave me forty bucks? What's with the third degree, Hargrove?"

"Just wondering where she got that kind of cash."

Eddie shrugs. "I assumed she borrowed it from her hotshot boyfriend."

He's brilliant.

"Hmm, maybe so. You coming by this weekend? Party's gonna be fucking sick, man."

"Yeah, I might. I gotta get going. Y/N, do you need a ride? To Jason's party?"

You blink at him. He jerks his head subtly toward Billy and you realize what he's actually asking.

Do I need to get you away from this asshole?

"I'm fine, thanks. I want to check on the girls before I leave."

He looks worried. You give him a pointed look, slightly shaking your head.

"Thanks again, for the ride. And giving me back my jacket."

"Anytime. Catch you later, Hargrove." He and Billy bump fists.

Before Billy can say anything else, you sprint down the hall to look in on your sisters. Sarah is in Max's bed with her, both of them snoozing away.

"How long are you going to be at that party? If Sarah pisses the bed I'm not cleaning it up. Or her." Billy mutters from behind you.

"Only an hour or so."

You don't want to go. You want to crawl into bed with your sisters and sleep all night. So far, Billy's temper had only been directed at you, but you worried every day that he might take his anger out on Max or Sarah if you weren't there to take the brunt of it.

You turn to leave but he stops you.

"Uh-uh." He taps his cheek.

Your stomach churns. You rise up on tiptoe and kiss his cheek.

"Say thank you for watching the girls, Billy."

You nod. "Thank you for watching the girls, Billy."

"One hour. Don't be late." He warns before heading to his room.

You grab the keys off the counter and sprint out the door, hopping into your mom's car. You aren't even out of the driveway before you burst into tears.

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things ff #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson slow burn #max mayfield #billy hargrove #eddie x reader

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becauseicantthinkwritings · 5 months

Text

An Altar For Our Sins

Part 8 // Masterlist

Demon!Billy Russo x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, Oral (both f and m receiving), fingering, edging, bondage, cum swallowing, heavy angst, talks of murder and (mild) decapitation, mind control, psychological torment, mentions of toxic and manipulative friendships.

Your arousal burns through him.

It’s not like your pain, it doesn’t slide like a needle between the layers of his skin, awakening discomfort that makes his heart beat in a worrisome rhythm.

Your arousal is different. New to him, and still a little unfamiliar, but he knows it when he feels it. It’s like a soft hand on his skin, the ghost of your touch trailing from his ear down his neck. It’s the sensation of your fingers drifting into his hair, nails scratching at his scalp and makes the hairs on his arms stand on end.

That’s how he knows you’re aroused, when it feels like you’re touching him all over all at once, when realistically, you’re currently just holding his hand.

He finds great appreciation for the feeling, as you tug him through the busy streets. He doesn’t know what you’re looking for, too caught up in your emotions to focus on the destination.

It’s odd, he’s never felt someone else like this before, never given anyone the opportunity to.

A strange pleasure courses through him, that he’s the one responsible for your arousal, that his earlier actions have made you excited, and desperate for him.

His mistress wants him.

He’d do anything to please her.

TEN MINUTES AGO.

Billy has seen his fair share of assholes to know when he’s looking at one.

He’d almost wiped the six-foot tall man clean off the face of the earth for trying to hug you, before absently remembering he was in a public place.

If that wasn’t enough of a reason, he could see the way you were discomforted by the brunette’s appearance, the faux pleasantness of your smile, the stiffness of your shoulders. Billy was aching for blood just at the idea that you might not want to interact with this human at all.

When the man had asked about him, you’d glanced back with that same forced smile.

“Oh, this,” you'd said with barely any hesitation, “This is Billy, my boyfriend.”

The words echo in his head. He looks down at you, feeling his mind rage with the desire to take you. He’s surprised he’s still able to formulate a thought with the way he wants to drop to his knees and sink his tongue into your cunt.

He feels something expand in his chest. His mistress, claiming him in front of others so easily, so readily, made him into a beast of a man, filled with so much want for just a few moments.

The man extends his hand to Billy, and Billy at least musters the courtesy to shake his hand without shattering all the fragile bones beneath the skin, introducing himself.

“Dimitri, I’m the former best friend.”

He nods in acknowledgement, thinking that it’s a little odd to go around introducing yourself like that.

He looks at you, takes a deep breath.

“Wow, you look amazing.” Dimitri says, and Billy wants to rip his eyeballs out of his skull for even daring to look at you.

Your skin crawls at his comment. You swallow, smiling and try to accept it, wishing for this interaction to be over with.

“Thanks, Dima.” You whisper softly, using his nickname accidentally.

His smile widens.

“We should hang out sometime, catch up, you wouldn’t believe the things I have to tell you.”

You blink, wondering why he was so friendly to you, as if the last time you’d spoken had never happened.

You try not to think about it.

“That might be nice,” You say politely, “But, I’m so swamped with things I have to do, and I might be travelling soon too.”

“Really? Where do you work now?”

Fuck, how do you get out of this one?

“I’m not really working anymore, just sort of… freelance.” You hoped it was enough to deter him from asking any more questions.

Dimitri only tilts his head in confusion.

“Really? That’s a bold move. I remember how much you used to struggle with being independent back in college.”

You swallow forcefully.

“Yeah, well, not anymore.” You say softly, feeling smaller and smaller under his gaze. You take a small step back, and you feel Billy’s hand find a spot on your back to remind you that he’s here.

Dimitri looks up at Billy, and you can almost tell that something awful is about to be said.

At the same time, you notice the woman helping you from before approaches, and it somehow helps to see her coming your way.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she says with an easy smile, “I just need confirmation of a contact number?”

You nod at her, knowing that Billy doesn’t have that information.

“I can help,” You offer, following when she angles her body to head back to her customer help desk.

“Bye, Dimitri.” You say quickly, hoping he takes the hint and leaves.

Dimitri doesn’t leave.

Instead, he turns to Billy.

“I don’t know how long you’ve been with her, but I have to warn you. Honestly, I wish someone had warned me before I put so much effort into getting to know her.”

Billy sucks in a deep breath, glancing at you, before looking back at the man in question.

“Warn me about what?”

“She’s got… issues, big ones, and she leads people on and then gets upset when they… respond… if you know what I mean.” Dimitri says.

Billy’s trying hard not to lose his cool.

“I thought you were just her friend.” He says easily.

“I was,” the other man states, “but she’s got some problems and I just wanted to give you a heads up, man to man.”

You’re waiting patiently for the woman to enter your number into the system when you feel uninhibited rage swell in the back of your throat.

Your mouth falls open in surprise, breath halting in your chest as raw anger claws its way into your head.

You turn your head quickly to glance at Billy, who’s got his eyes fixed on the shorter man, the look on his face is calm rage, like a snake, coiling tight before an attack.

The woman at the counter, having no idea of the rage swarming your system, smiles at you and thanks you for your time.

You can only give her a distracted nod, walking back to Billy quickly. He looks down at Dimitri, raising an eyebrow casually.

“I don’t see much of a man.” Billy says, and you blink in surprise, wondering what was said when you weren’t there.

Dimitri, not one to swallow insults easily, straightens, squares his shoulders angrily trying to make himself look bigger, more intimidating. You stand a small distance away, too stunned to interrupt the conversation fully.

“Go to hell. I was only trying to give you a heads up. She’s going to smile at you, and beg for comfort and make you think that she’s in love with you, and the minute you take her seriously, she’s going to push you away.”

You blink, looking away, a sharp spear in your chest at the reminder of the things he’d said all those years ago.

It’s the look on Billy’s face that holds you transfixed. He’s angry, his body completely still and for the first time you’re not sure about what he’s going to do next.

Shamefully, the look in his eyes goes right down to your core. This was the man that was capable of taking lives, and though you had somewhat domesticated him, this was what lay beneath the surface at every waking moment. This was the oncoming devastation, and you could feel the rage, his rage, hit a breaking point inside of you.

“Go home and cut your arm off.” Billy says, watching the man’s eyes widen in shock.

“Billy, no.” You murmur, finally finding the words to interrupt him.

He huffs, looking down at you for a second.

“One hand?” Billy offers, and receives a shake of your head.

“Two fingers?” he tries again with the same reaction.

“Fine,” Billy sighs, “One finger, but that’s as low as I’m going.”

“Billy.” You admonish.

He looks back at Dimitri angrily.

“You have no idea how amazing she is.” he says, anger rolling heavily in his words, the colour of his influence cloudy in Dimitri’s eyes.

“There’s nothing wrong with her. There never was, and there never will be and you’re lucky that she’s so kind cause I’m ready to make you eat your leg off for her entertainment.” He watches Dimitri swallow.

“So go home, cut your finger off, wrap it, and go to a hospital, and you better thank whatever god there is, that she doesn’t hold grudges.”

When Dimitri is two steps away, Billy speaks again.

“Oh, and Dima?” Billy says mockingly, watching the man turn back with a terrified expression on his face.

“Let’s forget about this, yeah?”

He only nods before scurrying away.

Perhaps you should have been angry with him.

But there was something about the coolness of his anger now, the way you could almost feel the fire burning inside of him, like red hot steel being plunged into frigid water.

The way he’d acknowledged your protests, but still finding some way to punish your old friend, like a balance being struck between your disposition and his.

In truth, you knew it was a very wrong thing, but you also found yourself barely caring as you reached for his hand, and pulled him out of the store.

You try to be reasonable in your head about it, Billy could have killed him out of your sight and you would never know, so this had to be a better alternative…

…right?

Or was this just you trying to excuse your involvement in Dimitri’s punishment?

Regardless, you couldn’t feel your morality at the moment, all you could feel was the empty space inside you, begging to be filled, to be used by him.

And you needed it now.

You tug him into the first cafe you find.

With a lovely outdoor theme to the interior, earth tones and the smell of coffee in the air, you definitely make a little note in your head to come back later.

You’re not thinking too much about anything though, simply following the signs that point to the bathroom.

Billy doesn’t even question when you tug him into the ladies’ room and then into a spacious stall with a door that goes all the way down to the floor.

The stall door barely has any time to close, before you’re pressing your body against his, rising onto your toes and holding on to the back of his neck to bring his face down.

Your eyes close as your mouths mesh together. You hear a little groan slip from the back of his throat.

His hands grip your hips, and when it’s not enough, his arms encircle your waist, crushing your body to his in one swift move.

You can't help the little laugh of surprise that leaves your mouth at his display of enthusiasm, grinning against his eager mouth for a moment. He returns your amusement with a smile of his own, and a dark promise in his eyes that reminds you of who he is, and what he's capable of.

It happens like a switch flipping inside of you, in one second you’re eager to kiss him, blissful with the idea of finally getting his mouth on yours. But it’s the way his mouth feels, the way his hair catches on your fingertips and his beard scratches your cheek that turns gentle need into something indescribable.

Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, leaning into him, little whines slip from your mouth when you feel like he’s too far away.

Like a burning in your head that demands him, in every way possible.

As high on your toes as you can get, you wobble a little when you try to get even higher, feeling his tail reach out in response to that, wrapping around your leg in an attempt to keep you steady. You groan when his tail brushes between the apex of your thighs. Pulling back for a quick breath, you raise one leg to wrap it around his hip, his hand sliding under your rear smoothly to support you.

His mouth is hot against yours, matching your fervour, an amused chuckle against your mouth when you whine.

He moves so passionately, fingers on your chin to tilt your head up so you can feel the searing heat of his desire for you.

You finally build up the courage, gripping his jaw tightly, encouraging his mouth to open so that you can press your tongue into his mouth teasingly.

He lets out another low groan that goes right to your core, shredding at your sanity when he pulls you even closer.

"Mistress-" Billy attempts to speak, trying to inquire about doing this in a more comfortable spot, instead of the bathroom stall of the cafe you'd just tugged him into.

You're not having any of it though, hands gripping the back of his neck roughly, tongue delving into his mouth with so much wanton need that he can't think to deny you.

You can't seem to stop, or focus, your only desire is to show your appreciation, despite how empty your cunt feels.

You move from his mouth, kissing over his cheek and over to his neck, delivering open-mouthed kisses to the soft skin, hearing the heavy labour of his breath increase.

“Does that feel good?” You ask, teasing him, daring to press your teeth into the column of his neck.

His hiss delights you, hands tightening their grip on you, showing you how much he really likes what you’re doing to him.

When the edge of his shirt gets in the way, you huff angrily, tugging at it so that you can bite down on his collarbone.

"Take this off." You command , tugging at his shirt.

“Mistress,” He tries to protest again.

“Billy,” You hiss, “Now.”

His shirt disappears in a puff of purple.

You drag your short fingernails against his skin, groaning in delight at the opportunity to have him, rubbing your face into his chest, appreciating the feel of his hot skin on your cheek, touching his body the way you always dream of. When you want more balance, you drop your leg from around his hip so that you’re on your own two feet.

You reach for his belt next, tugging at the leather, before reaching a hand down to cup at his erection through his pants.

“Wait.” He sighs, and it stops all your movement. You look up at him with wide eyes.

It takes you back into your head for a moment. Were you going too far?

He’s leaned back against the door, breathing in large heaves of air.

His hands cup your face, fingers tingling against your cheek, you wait patiently for his words.

“Are you sure?” He asks, dark eyes studying you.

Oh. Oh.

“Very.” You reply, “Are you?”

He inclines his head.

“Good.” You utter, keeping your eyes on his as you drop to your knees in one swift movement.

His eyes go red.

You reach for his belt again, and this time he doesn’t stop you. You undo his button and zipper in record time and gently tug his boxers down, salivating at the first sight of his cock.

Billy groans, he senses the increase in your arousal, feels it like you’ve got your tongue dragging on his neck while you’re eye level with his cock.

His breath stutters when your mouth seals over the head of his cock.

“Mistress.” He shivers, head hitting the door as he drops his head back.

You take your time, moving slowly, remembering the way his cum makes you feel, thinking about pleasing him this way, your cunt sticky under all your clothes.

Jaw open wide to accommodate his girth, you hum, taking him down as far as comfortable, listening with delighted ears at the sounds he makes in response.

He’s perfection, you acknowledge, he’s yours.

You take your time, bobbing your head slowly to a quiet drumming inside you, keeping a steady rhythm that you hope he likes.

You raise a hand to pump the rest of him slowly, as you angle your head to slide your tongue along the underside of his cock.

A soft sound leaves his mouth, and you keep looking up at him when your tongue dips even further to touch his balls.

He looks down suddenly, hair askew with the sudden movement, eyes shining red as you sway your tongue from side to side at the base of his cock.

Billy reaches down, and grips the back of your head harshly.

“Mistress.” He utters breathlessly, bending down, he tugs a little painfully on your hair to bring your mouth to his.

Your lips against his feels so sinful, you straighten as much as you can from your position on the floor, humming, delighted that he’s interested in kissing you like this.

You keep pumping your hand on his cock, eager to keep him in that blissed out state, but you realise he might be stalling you when he refuses to release your hair.

You pull away from him, and when he tries to bring you back for a kiss by tightening his grip on the back of your head, you raise your free hand to uncurl his fingers from your hair.

“You’re distracting me.” You complain, looking between his cock and his face.

“Let me take you home. I’ll let you ride my face till you can’t breathe.”

“Later,” you hum, “I want your cum on my tongue.”

He grunts, straightening to allow you more access to his cock.

You immediately take him into your mouth, more eager than ever, need pulsing inside of you, pumping the rest of his cock that you can’t get your mouth on with your hand.

He groans, and it goes straight to that spot inside of you that aches for him.

Something shifts inside of you, and acutely, you’re aware of something else you can feel.

It glides through your body, like two fingers tracing itself over your skin, beginning at your core, it slips over your clit and upward to your ribs. You moan around his cock at the phantom sensation, pushing your head down until he’s at the back of your throat.

Up, over your breast, to your neck and over your cheek, you hum around his cock, as the touch tingles over your scalp.

You don’t know what you’re feeling, not sure what caused the sensation of this invisible touch so you pull back for a moment, looking around for his tail.

When you don’t see any presence of his tail, you look up, searching his eyes for an explanation.

“I feel… what is that?” You ask.

He tilts his head, red eyes flashing purple for a second.

You watch him swallow.

“My pleasure, mistress, you can feel it.”

Your lips part in surprise. The ghost sensation traces its way down your back.

A small smile graces your lips, before you kiss the tip of his cock.

“I like it.” you say to him, licking teasingly at the head of his cock and feeling the way the sensation travelling along your skin heightens.

You close your eyes, and hasten your rhythm, the smooth head of his cock gliding along your tongue and you think you’ve found a little bit of heaven at his feet.

“Mistress.” He groans, a little too loud for the space you’re in, and you think that might be his way of warning you that he’s on edge.

You only hum on his cock, hearing his breath stutter as you hollow your cheeks while taking him down as deep as you can.

You feel his body tense, the muscle of his thighs hardening until it’s stiff as a rock, and then his cock twitches, a small movement, before he begins to spill into your mouth.

You feel it, his orgasm, it rattles through you, makes your eyes roll back in your head at the sensation. It’s like the rush of a heated wave, originating from the deepest spot inside of you, unfurling all the way down to your fingers, and the very tips of your ears.

He moans, it’s a low, euphoric sound, that makes your body tingle from the experience of it.

You swallow his cum eagerly, milking every drop from him, making sure he’s got nothing left to give you before you release him from your mouth.

You can still feel his pleasure, the aftermath of it is just as strong as it was during, and as it settles inside of you, you can’t help the little giggle that leaves your lips.

His eyes still red, your legs wobble as you do your best to stand. He extends his hands to help you, and you grip his forearms tightly for balance.

“Did my lovely demon like that?” You ask, feeling your head begin to swim peacefully, the effects of his release beginning to affect you.

He studies you closely, hands cupping your cheeks to look into your eyes. You can only chuckle more.

Absentmindedly, you lick your lips, savouring the taste of him on your tongue, closing your eyes in bliss, swaying in his arms.

With your eyes closed, you feel him guide you into a very deep sway, and the next thing you feel is your back being pressed against cool, soft sheets.

You sigh happily, your skin sensitive, head lost in a daze.

“Mistress?” Billy whispers softly into your ear.

You smile, eyes still closed, raising a hand to cup his bearded cheek, the wiry hairs tingling along the palm of your hand.

“Yes, Billy?” You hum easily.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to lick your little cunt now.”

Your eyes peek open in confusion, feeling something smooth wind its way around your wrists, pulling slowly at your arms until they’re pinned beside your head.

“What?” you ask in surprise, not fully understanding where this is going in your semi-inebriated state.

“And I’m sorry, but I’m not going to stop until I’m satisfied.” He continues, as if you haven’t spoken.

You can’t do much in your state, relaxed as you feel him carefully tear your shirt in two, exposing your warm skin to him. He snips the straps of your bra, tugging the material down so that your nipples are exposed to the cool air.

You gasp, whining as you pull a little on your restraints, a muted fire burning inside of you from the way he treats you as if you’re his plaything.

His hands are on your pants next, and he at least takes his time to unbutton them, peeling them off your legs, before something begins winding around your ankles too.

“What're you doing to me?” You whine, body aching more and more for each touch.

You turn your head to the side, noticing that the things holding your arms in place are just soft purple ropes. You give another tug, you feel your desire increase as you become aware of your inability to move.

You pant as your legs are pulled apart, you whine pitifully as you realise how exposed, open, and vulnerable you are to him. There’s a sweetness to it, something that makes your body yearn. It’s the thought that he could do anything he wanted to you at the very moment, and you would be helpless to stop him.

Usually that would scare you, but with your demon, you trusted him, wholly, maybe more than you should have.

Finally, you look up at him. His large frame hovers over you, between your legs, looking down at you with something fierce behind his eyes.

He takes a deep breath, and a pleased smile rises to his lips.

“Poor mistress,” Billy hums, raising a hand to flick gently at your nipple, making you gasp in response, “All wet and helpless and at my mercy. Do you want me to stop?”

Your head shouts the answer, but your mouth can only whisper.

“N-no.” You reply.

His other hand raises to touch your next breast, both hands toying with your nipples easily. You hiss, dropping your head back in bliss.

“No?” He mocks, “You want me to keep going?”

“Yes, please.” You breathe.

His grin deepens.

“You really trust a demon like me that much? Do you have any idea how badly I want to ruin you?”

“I want you.” You whine, closing your eyes eagerly when he brings his face in close, hoping that he’s going to kiss you.

“I’d let you ruin me.” You continue, hearing a little grunt leave his throat in response.

“Open your mouth, mistress.” He says darkly, and you obey, parting your lips for him.

He hums, before sealing his mouth over yours, his tongue immediately meeting your own.

You moan, flicking your tongue upwards, delightfully rubbing your tongue eagerly on his, unable to move in any way.

Your head fills with the worst ideas, that if he wanted, he could keep you here, bound, and still somehow you find that appealing.

There’s a drumming in your head, a heat on your skin, the taunting ghost of a phantom touch as his pleasure swells within you.

He begins kissing you softly, his mouth fixed to yours as one hand flicks at your nipples, the other hand supporting his weight so that he doesn’t crush you.

He drops his hips, so that he can press his stiff erection between your thighs. You clench involuntarily, angling your hips as best as possible to feel him.

When you whine against his mouth, raising your head to increase the pressure of his lips on yours, he stops touching your breast to grip your jaw harshly. He squeezes, keeping your head still as he kisses you hard, his rough tongue delving into your mouth easily.

He pulls back with a grin, looking at you with red eyes as you pant.

“Are you still cum drunk, mistress?” He asks.

You swallow, nodding your head.

“Good.”

Without any further words, he kisses your neck.

You hum, tilting your head to the side in a silent plea for him to keep going, a sharp gasp when his teeth drag along your sensitive skin.

You wriggle, but you’re unable to move, your bra is uncomfortable on your skin, and you hope he tugs the material off of your body soon.

His tongue is wicked, sliding over each collarbone, before they connect with the stiff peak of your nipple.

Billy moans, the flat of his tongue gliding over the underside of your nipple, before being flicked meaningfully by the tip of his tongue.

He repeats the motion several times, before tearing the ruined fabric of your bra off your skin, and circling his tongue around your other nipple.

You cry out, blubbering, his arms sliding under you to encourage your back to arch, making it that much harder to move as he circles his tongue around each nipple.

“Mine.” Billy growls, and you feel your eyes almost roll back in your head at the way you feel- debauched and desperate, for him and all the wicked things he does.

He’s not very nice, his tail sliding around your thigh and pressing gently against your panties, rolling in gentle waves over your core, tormenting you, making sure you feel each caress.

You feel his pleasure increase, like a breath over your skin, telling you that he enjoys this, having you helpless at his mercy below him and you crave the feeling of that like never before.

You know from past experience that if he wanted to ease your ache, he could easily increase his pressure to help alleviate your need, instead he only makes it worse.

After a moment, you gasp in surprise as you feel his tail work its way under the fabric covering your cunt.

You whimper, tossing your head from side to side, trying to find a way to get him to touch you where you need it most, but being unable to do much with the way you’re bound.

When you try to close your legs, you feel his ropes snake higher up your ankles, and loop over your calves, stopping right above your knees.

“Billy.” You beg, “Please, I need you.”

“Shhh, mistress,” He soothes, “This is what you get for riling me up so badly.”

“I didn’t-” You try to argue.

“No?” he asks, his tail skirting your slit, offering only a small amount of friction, “Getting down on your knees, licking my cock like that, swallowing every drop of my cum- that wasn’t supposed to make me feverish with desire for you?”

“I only wanted to thank you for sticking up for me.” You whine, trying to argue as he presses his face to the plush underside of your breast, beard scratching deliciously over your soft skin.

“Thank me? Do you have any idea what seeing you like that does to me?” His hands cup your face, and you part your lips as he kisses you softly, “On your knees, looking up, that sweet mouth sucking on my cock like you need me?”

When you don’t answer him, he hums, biting softly on your bottom lip.

You groan, struggling against his bindings for show, knowing that you’re not getting free unless he wills it.

“I’ll show you what it does to me.” He says softly, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

You feel his tail drag upwards under your panties, hovering over your clit, and you sob desperately, yearning for him to touch you where it hurts.

Your thigh twitches involuntarily, body shuddering at how close he is.

“Please.” You gasp, tilting your hips up, sobbing as he moves his tail back too.

“Aw mistress, am I being mean?” He teases rhetorically.

You open your eyes, looking at him, his eyes have remained red the entire time. You think about what you could possibly say to get any semblance of relief.

“I loved sucking your cock, Billy,” You mumble, watching the red in his eyes darken, “I’d do it every day if you let me.”

His mouth parts, and you note the sharpening of his teeth for a brief moment.

Before you can even focus on any one thing in particular, his tail begins to slide easily between your thighs.

Your breath catches in your throat, feeling the appendage slide up and down, catching on your clothed clit, using the slickness of your arousal to move. You clench around nothing, gasping, aching for more, aching for it faster, and getting nothing but his slow, steady pace in return.

Suddenly his tail pauses, and you almost want to cry, only having a moment to open your mouth to beg when you feel his tail wrap around the waistline of your underwear, and pull it harshly till it rips.

“That’s better.” He murmurs, ridding you of the flimsy material, keeping his eyes locked to yours as his tail goes right back between your legs, grinding more purposefully on your cunt.

You drop your head back temporarily in defeat, arms and legs bound, unable to do much moving, all you can do is try your best not to squirm while his tail makes a mess of you.

You’re forced into looking at his gorgeous visage, his arms braced on either side of your head, he looks at all the expressions on your face as you struggle against his bindings, failing miserably at your attempt to stay still.

He speeds up, and your mouth falls open at the delicious feeling, the steady touch on your swollen clit.

Your pleasure swims in his head, drunk on the power he has over you, enjoying every moment of watching you. There is nowhere he'd rather be right now than right here, not even the promise of Heaven could tear him from you.

He slows his tail not long after, watching the torment cross your face, feeling delighted that he can do this to you, that he can make you want like this.

“I should’ve left you hard,” You grit out angrily, groaning inwardly when his only answer is an amused chuckle.

“You talk too much, mistress,” He taunts, before taking his tail away from your dripping core to press it against your lips.

You only hesitate for a moment, opening your mouth easily, and letting his tail, wet with your own arousal into your mouth.

The taste of you is tart on his tail, and you wrap your lips around the leathery appendage, giving it the same treatment that you gave his cock not too long ago.

“You look beautiful like this,” He breathes, red eyes memorising you, “Mouth full like a good mistress.”

Your chest flutters, but you can’t say or do anything except continue sucking on the tip of his tail. It helps distract you from the raging firestorm of desire inside of you.

He drops his head once more, and you gasp around your mouthful of tail as his rough tongue ambles over your sensitive nipples.

You feel the vibration of his groan against your breast, and suddenly you let out a sound of surprise when the rope wrapped around your legs begin to pull them up and further apart.

He raises up, pulling away, his tail leaving your mouth empty as he leans back to look at you. The remnants of his saliva cooling on your breast, the lips of your cunt spread with the further parting of your legs.

Vaguely, you’re aware that he can see every intimate inch of you, and you think you love that. You keep your eyes on his face, making sure he’s looking at your centre when you clench your inner walls.

He looks up at you, his gaze is full of something familiar, something you’re acquainted with intimately at the back of your head, where all your sacred thoughts lie. It’s a look that promises pleasure, above all else.

He leans in slowly, and you watch carefully as the six-foot tall demon bound to you for eternity, dips his head to place a gentle kiss between your breasts.

Your mouth parts in surprise.

He kisses over your stomach, over your belly button, scratching his beard along your skin, teasing you with the sharpness of his teeth.

It feels like nothing before, the careful attention he pays to each inch of your skin, feels like nothing short of worship to you.

You shake, gasping, desperate, tears pooling in your eyes on the brink of crying.

He trails a line of kisses between your hip bones, your body screaming with need and your inability to touch him. When he's not satisfied, his rough tongue retraces the path, your stomach tightening as he leaves pleasure in his wake.

How was he doing this so easily? Playing with you? Toying with your body as if he'd been doing it for all his life?

You make a little sound when he kisses the inside of your thighs.

He hums, drawing away from your thigh to press his lips to the seam of your cunt, staying like that for long, torturous moments.

“Billy please.” You beg on a meaningful breath, desperate for him to do something after he continues to place soft kisses on your pussy for longer than you like.

“I love hearing you beg.” He hums, kissing over your mound gently, slowly, as if there is no rush. You can feel the truth of his statement through your connection, feel the way his pleasure heightens when you make any kind of sound.

Your breath catches in your throat, unable to form a coherent thought in your head that would be enough to push him into pleasuring you the way you’re desperate for. All you can do is lie here, with your arms and legs bound while he places delicate kisses onto your wet pussy.

Your body burns with desire, something dangerously hot, that can only be soothed by his touch. You can feel yourself clench, feel the breath of his laughter on your skin, the way your demon loves tormenting you.

You close your eyes, and you focus on him, you think about all the things you want him to do, all the ways you need him, you hope that the bond between you will help persuade him to have mercy on you.

You imagine him over you, cock pumping between your thick thighs while his tail fills you up. You think about the way you’d kiss his beautiful form. You think about exploring his broad chest with your mouth, tracing the veins on his hands, the way his cock feels, heavy and unapologetic on your tongue.

Between your legs, he lets out a low groan. His skin is hot with your desire, he feels it, the way you need him, the way you ache for him, and he can’t get enough of it.

He’s never felt anything like it, in his centuries of existing, he’s never felt someone as much as he feels you. He knows that he never wants to feel anyone else like this, like he can’t tell where the essence of your soul ends and his begins, or maybe there’s an overlap, a blending of the two of you.

He darts his tongue out, sinks it into your cunt, trails upwards until he meets your clit, savouring the way you taste, your arousal on his tongue, all for him.

You gasp, tugging on your restraints, fighting his hold, and wanting to fight the featherlight touch of his tongue as well. Delight explodes behind your eyes, but it’s not yours you realise, it’s his. He gets enjoyment from tasting you. It makes you whimper, makes you need.

He torments you with his coarse tongue, like the demon you know him to be, gently moving across your clit, exciting your senses, winding you up like an object for his play.

You whine at the very idea of it, being used like this, giving yourself into the reality that he’s in total control of you, that it doesn’t matter what you want, your only purpose is to please him, to let him lick your cunt for however long, however roughly he wants.

It makes you that much wetter.

He takes his time, tongue slowly increasing its speed, moving in every angle over your clit, his careful precision to working you up, ensuring that your body feels good but not too good, a desperation being seared into your bones, or maybe even deeper, a place inside of you that belongs to only him.

His hands trail up from gripping your hips to explore the space beneath your breasts.

You gasp, feeling the tips of his long fingers tease the underside of your breasts, roaming even higher till he can roll your nipples between his fingers.

You say his name, pulling half-heartedly at your restraints, skin searing with open desire, gasping at the way he trails his hands lower once more, his fingertips ghosting over your skin, savouring the way you feel.

The phantom touch of his pleasure is all around you, trailing over your bound hands, up to your shoulders and neck, lingering on your lips.

You gasp, eyes rolled back in your head, lost in the feeling of his tongue when you realise you’re experiencing a clarity that you weren’t before.

You groan sadly, registering that while you’ve been captured in endless bliss, the effects of his cum had worn off.

You try to think about what it means, and what you want Billy to do about it, but it’s hard to focus when his tongue licks over your clit so often. It’s like he’s found the spot on your body that scrambles your thoughts and he’s been abusing that knowledge.

“Billy.” You sigh, calling for your demon, in hopes that he can pull himself from your dripping cunt for long enough to allow you any semblance of thought.

He only moans, rough tongue continuing its constant pace.

You shiver, raising your head, trying to get his attention away from your centre. You watch his head move down, the flat of his tongue connecting with your entrance before his head glides upward, pulling his tongue to meet your clit. He glances up at you with half-lidded red eyes, and as you look down at him between your thighs, he pauses, sliding his tongue slowly from side to side over your clit.

He looks lost in you, nothing registering behind his eyes except the taste of your cunt. You bite down on your lips at the sight of him like that.

You forget what you were thinking about, pulling your restraints taut in desperation, keeping you eyes locked on his as he continues to work his tongue sideways over your clit. A tilt of his head, and you watch his eyes close momentarily as he focuses solely on your clit, giving it soft attention, the perfect combination of right there and not enough.

You make a sharp cry of desperation, and he still doesn’t stop, his tongue speeding up, your toes curling as you begin to feel the burn of a slow oncoming orgasm.

He feels it, because he can feel everything you do, feels how badly you want him and he’s incapable of denying you anymore. He’s eager to taste your orgasm, feel you shiver on his tongue, he can’t stop thinking about it now, but he knows he has a point to make and he’s not stopping until you understand.

His pace doesn’t slow, licking you effortlessly, plump lips pressed together to trap your clit between them, using not just his tongue, but his lips as well to heighten your pleasure.

You shudder out a gasp, and then a little sob, dropping your head back, unable to think anymore. You take what he gives happily, because you have no choice in the matter, you’re at his mercy, despite how badly you yearn for release.

He hums, lips pressed to your clit, your body pulls tight in warning, mouth dropping open.

You only feel a puff of air on your mound, as if he just let out a little breath of amusement, at the way your body begs for him.

He flattens his tongue harshly to your clit, rolls his tongue quickly from side to side, listening to the sound of your whimpers increase.

You want to tell him how close you are, how desperate you are to come all over his tongue, almost ready to cry if he stops. The only thing that leaves your mouth is unintelligible sounds of insanity.

He knows though, he wants it too. To please you, to be owned by you.

Your toes curl, back bowing off the bed, everything held taught by the whims of your demon’s tongue.

And then he stops, detaches his mouth from your dripping heat and listens to you cry out in denial.

You open your mouth to beg him, but he’s already hovering above you, blunt fingers pressed into your jaw to turn your head to the side so he can whisper in your ear.

“Do you feel that?” He hisses, his lips right against the shell of your ear, “Do you feel how desperate you are? How bad it burns in your chest? That’s how I feel every second I’m not touching you, mistress.”

You gasp, trying to wrap your head around his words.

“That’s how I feel when you look at me, that’s how I feel when you kneel for me.”

He leans in even closer, till his nose is pressed to your temple, his lips right in your ear, his voice is a low grovel that thrums against your skin.

“Every time you wrap those perfect lips around my cock, you make me burn.”

“I’m sorry.” You finally say.

He raises his head, turning your face back to his.

“You are?” He asks.

You nod, trembling.

“I d-don’t mean to torment you.” You whisper.

The corner of his mouth lifts, you can see some semblance of sanity reappear.

“You don’t.” he states, as if this is news to him.

“I don’t.” You confirm, “I just want to make you happy.”

He grips your jaw tighter, leaning in.

“Why?”

Was that what this was? Insecurity?

“You do so much for me, Billy, and I like doing things for you too.”

“And if I couldn’t give you anything. Would you still…” His voice trails off, looking away.

“Yes.” You say swiftly, confidently, not letting the fear inside of him take root. “I’d want you even if you had nothing to give.”

Obsidian- the colour his eyes go next. You swallow, a tightness in your throat at the way he looks.

He looks back at you, eyes fixed on yours, dark veins spreading out from around his eyes as he tilts his head slowly.

He looks a little scary, the darkness of his eyes spreading out over his face, but like before, your body holds no real fear of him.

You don’t get a chance to say anything, before he’s leaning forward to kiss you hard.

You tilt your chin up, returning his fervour with need of your own, desperate to show him that you were his, just as much as he was yours. When you can see his face again, the black veins framing his eyes have receded, leaving just his dark eyes.

You wanted to touch him, you pull at the ropes with all your strength.

You don’t get a chance, he moves down your body once more, his head buried between your thighs in seconds.

You gasp when you feel his tongue again, you want to cry with relief.

“Oh god, Billy yes.” You moan mindlessly, tossing your head from side to side.

You tremble, hot tears spilling from the corners of your eyes, every nerve in your body on overdrive, trying to process how one person's mouth could have so much of an effect. He licks over you slowly, kissing your clit, wet sounds of his dextrous tongue filling the room.

What’s worse is the physical need for him, to touch every inch of his skin, to feel him, really feel him, and try to wrap your head around having a person to call your own.

He grips your thighs, squeezes your hips, makes you look up at the ceiling and feel the thoughts drain from your head like it’s a real, physical sensation.

He delves lower, tongue against your entrance a low groan from him as you endure the slow glide of his wet tongue against your walls, shallow, and yet desperate to get as deep into you as possible.

Your hands curl into fists, your eyes screwed shut as your shallow breaths grow loud in your ears.

You say his name but you don’t think he’s capable of hearing you, of pausing the motions of his tongue on your wet cunt.

He holds your pleasure hostage, and once more you feel the fight build inside of you.

You pull at your restraints, crying out when his tongue punishes your sensitive clit with a harsh lick, followed by tender kisses, right on your aching bud.

“I’m sorry.” You gasp, wriggling on the bed, “I’ve learnt my lesson I swear.” You say, trying to bargain with him.

He doesn’t answer, he just keeps going, hot tongue swiping over your clit, again and again, plump lips both a blessing and a curse.

He licks you for long minutes, until you lose control of your limbs, until they ache from being still, until you tremble, desperate to come.

“Pl-ease.” You draw out, voice shaking, your body begging, a roaring in your head that aches so badly you could almost cry.

Your mouth drops open when you feel two of his thick fingers press against your entrance. It hits you like lightning, and all of a sudden, you’re no longer in burning desire, but in a hazy rapture.

“Billy.” You cry, as he takes his time, working his fingers into you. You can hear and feel how wet you are, your head filling with absolute bliss, washing away any semblance of need you once had, any frustration that was being nurtured inside of you.

He keeps his strokes short, drawing out the pleasure you feel each time the thickest part of his fingers threaten to stretch the rim of your cunt, moving so rhythmically, lulling your body into a placid state. He gives you exactly what you need, filling you, licking you, delivering absolution from your burning.

You can’t feel anything except this pleasure, and a connection somewhere deep inside of you, that pulls you to him, draws you near, begs to be each beat of his heart, yearns to be each breath he takes, all paired with the feeling of his tongue lapping softly at your aching clit.

There’s a stuttering in your chest, one that you can feel pulsing in your nether regions as his pace increases. Your body gives no resistance to him, accepting him greedily, wanting more and more and more.

He’s there, giving it all to you, licking you to his heart’s content, pressing his fingers ever deeper, curling them a little, massaging the deepest parts of you, making sure you know that no one will ever make you feel like this.

You gasp in a big breath of air, pulling on the ropes still holding you firm, he lets out a low groan below you and you raise your head to look down at him.

His eyes are still wholly black, a void that pulls you in, the longer he holds eye contact with you.

Billy’s fingers hasten, and all of a sudden you’re right there, on edge again, losing any approximation of time, little whimpers leaving your mouth as you lose all semblance of sanity.

“I- I’m-” You whimper, trying to warn him that it’s all too much, that his touch is unravelling you in the best way possible.

Eyes rolling back into your head, unable to think or breathe for a few seconds, locked in a sharp stasis, balancing right on the brink of euphoria.

And then on your next breath, a release like no other. You hadn’t even realised how tightly you were wound until your orgasm washes over you. You can’t stop the sounds that leave your lips, or the very first squeeze of your cunt around his thick fingers.

One wave of bliss triggers another, and another, until you fall apart completely against his perfect, rough tongue, no hope of keeping your sanity amidst the oncoming flood of pleasure.

It takes you a moment of floating, before you can come back into your body again, only to realise that he hasn’t stopped licking you. You’re almost obsessed with the sensation of his touch, the deep press of his fingers inside of you, soft and languid, bringing you down almost as slowly as he’d lifted you up.

And then there’s the feeling in your head, pleasure swimming through your brain, tingling deep in your bloodstream, wave after wave of mindless, hazy bliss.

The ropes from around your arms and legs loosen, withdrawing, giving back the autonomy it had taken. You sigh with ease, squeezing your hands into fists, to remember how to move once more.

You can’t do much more than little flexes of your muscle, your body is too relaxed, unwilling to move.

He licks you one last time, before you feel his fingers withdraw, his mouth departing from the apex of your thighs.

His eyes are back to their regular red, and you sigh happily as he moves his way up your body.

“How was that, mistress?” Billy asks softly, his body over yours, his fingers sinking into your hair.

“Amazing, Billy, thank you.” You respond in a soft whisper.

He smiles, brings his head down to meet your lips with his.

You get a taste of yourself on his lips, and you make a sound of discomfort when his wet chin touches yours.

You press against his shoulder, breaking the kiss.

“Gosh Billy, your chin is so wet,” You complain, wiping what you assume is a mixture of your arousal and his saliva off your own chin, “We could really use a bath.”

He gives you a slow smile, a potent delight in his eyes that makes you so happy in return.

“Yes, mistress,” He agrees, sliding his other hand below your body, beginning to apply a little force to pull you up toward him.

“One bath coming right up.” Is the last thing he says before he pulls your face up to his.

His kiss distracts you, enraptures you, you hum happily against him, eyes closed and trying to ignore his sticky chin.

He dips you again with a smile against your mouth and the next thing you know is that your bodies are submerged in tepid water.

You don't startle, continuing to kiss him under the water, hands raising to grip his shoulders automatically.

You gasp when he pulls you up, and right into a sitting position on his lap.

He keeps the back of your head gripped in his palm, kissing at your cheek and jaw while you turn your head to the side with a little laugh.

You blink in surprise when you notice unfamiliar surroundings. You're seated in a moderately sized pool, right beside a beautiful open concept house. You turn your head the other way, feeling Billy's lips adapt to kiss your other cheek, noticing that the house is surrounded by thick jungle vegetation.

“Billy?” You ask, feeling his mouth kiss its way down your neck. His only acknowledgement that you've spoken is a curious hum.

“Where are we?”

“Phuket.” He says, voice muffled against your chest.

“Thailand?” You say in surprise.

His only response is another hum.

You grip his face between both your hands, tilting his head up to meet your eyes. He gives you almost the same look that he was giving you before- when he was looking up at you from between your thighs- half lidded, calm.

“Why are we here?” You inquire softly.

“Bath.” Is all he answers, leaning in to kiss your chest again.

“Are you okay?” You whisper, looking down at him, trying to figure out why there was such a spaced out feeling in the back of your head.

“Mhmm.” He replies, lips on your breast, kissing your nipple gently, “Happy.”

Happy. That’s what it was. Like a flutter in the back of your head, behind your eyes, you could tell he was drunk on his contentment.

“Why happy?” You whisper, hoping not to break into his haze.

“Happy to… provide, mistress.”

You feel a tightness in your throat, an inundation of emotion, threatening to choke you with the fierceness of it.

You tilt his head up again, looking into his glassy eyes, before kissing him with all the fire you have inside of you.

You know if you could, if you weren’t afraid of the pain of it, you would slide onto his cock right then and there.

He moans against your mouth, probably receiving some indication of where your thoughts have taken you.

Your hands smooth over his neck, down to his shoulders, fingers feeling over his collarbones.

“I’ve never swam naked before.” You say against his lips, feeling him laugh in response.

“Me neither.” He answers.

You push away from him playfully, smiling as you turn around to dip your entire body below the water, feeling the way the water moves around you. When you break the surface of the water for a breath, pushing your hair out of your face, you look back over your shoulder at him.

He’s in the same spot for just a second, before he’s in front of you, moving at speeds beyond your understanding.

You gasp in surprise, his arms wrapped around your body, pulling you against him. He lowers himself, pulling your legs around his hips, you let out a surprised gasp when his cock slots right between your thighs, tapping against your sensitive clit.

He kisses you again, mouth eager on your own, turning you and walking you to a place you can’t see, his hand gripping your damp hair, angling his head to deepen your kiss and leaving you struggling to catch up with his fervour.

He lifts you, resting your naked body on the edge of the pool, your bare ass warmed by the sun-heated wooden deck.

“Need another taste.” He says against your mouth, his tail wrapped around your thigh, gliding gently along the seam of your cunt. You gasp in amazement at his desperate display.

“What?” You ask, not understanding what he’s saying with the way you’re exposed, naked in the open air. The only thing stopping the sun from hitting you directly in the eyes is an overhead umbrella.

He pulls you forward a little, tossing your legs over each of his shoulders, muttering something that you can’t make sense of.

A quick kiss to your inner thigh and then his rough tongue sinks into the seam of your cunt once more.

His tongue moves a lot more meaningfully this time, no attempt to torment you, his only goal is tasting you.

You gasp, arms buckling from where you’re trying to hold yourself up, his tongue once more attempting to make quick work of you out in the open beside the pool.

You don’t try to stop him, or resist him, simply keeping your thighs parted so that he can have his fill of you, willing to give your demon anything he desired.

He hadn’t stopped until you were boneless, barely able to keep your head up, almost on the brink of passing out.

It had been a really long day, and at the end of it, after he’d cleaned you up and tucked you into bed beside him, he’d hand fed you fruits while you were close to sleep.

“Thank you,” You breathe, face tucked into his chest while you chew on a grape, the sweetness of it is delicious.

His tail flicks happily against your thigh, swaying while your legs are tangled in the sheets of the bed.

“You’re welcome, mistress.” He says softly, kissing the top of your head.

You sigh, closing your eyes. You want to tell him about Dimitri, but you decide that maybe tomorrow would be better. You didn’t want to interrupt the peace right now with those stories.

Sleep comes easy, when you don’t know exactly where you are, and you don’t even have to worry about it.

You're not sure what wakes you. If it's the lack of his heartbeat, or the coldness that seeps into your skin.

Maybe it's something else, a feeling, deep in your chest that something is not quite right.

You're immediately alert, blinking and looking around as if you hadn't been asleep at all.

You take a deep breath, let out a little hum, checking the time.

A little after one in the morning.

You look around for your demon, unable to find him.

You want to call out for him, but something in your head says not to do it.

He’s nearby, you can feel that too, in some kind of distress.

You look around for something to pull on, sighing when you can only get a hold of a satin robe, tugging it on quickly and also grabbing the folded blanket at the base of the bed and throwing it over you.

As expected, outside is cold, and you tug the blanket tighter to you, making sure it’s not dragging on the floor as you try to quietly look for Billy.

He’s not in the immediate vicinity, so you close your eyes, and you reach for him in your head.

Suddenly you feel a connection, like a tether in the air that guides you in his direction. You follow where it leads, taking you down a flight of wooden stairs, illuminated only by the light of the moon.

With the forest on either side of you, you try not to focus on the possibility of any critters showing up, not wanting to think about what you’d do if you saw a lizard.

Or worse yet, a snake.

You take a deep breath, squashing your fears, determined to find him.

The stairs take you down to a little beach, with soft blue lamps at the end of the stairs. It’s so dark here that the stars shine brighter than you’ve ever seen.

There’s a jetty, stretching out onto the open sea, and a small open air hut at the very end, with a roof of something you think is straw above.

You take your time, stepping onto it, appreciating how sturdy it is, watching a little crab skitter away as you approach.

You can see him now, his hunched figure seated on a wooden bench looking out at the dark sea.

He doesn’t turn his head when you approach, and you worry that you’re encroaching on his personal space.

“It’s cold out here.” You whisper, referring to the chilly ocean breeze that washes over you both, you sit beside him, raising the blanket to rest one side of it on his shoulder, hoping to warm him up.

He doesn’t look at you, he doesn’t say anything.

You want to speak, to say something to comfort him, but you're so caught up in saying the wrong thing that you say nothing at all.

Instead, you rest your head against his arm, breathing in the dark sea air with him.

The crash of waves calm you, rids you of any lingering worry and fear you once had.

You can feel his though, something whirring like a broken clock inside of his head, a fear he's too scared to talk about.

You take slow calming breaths beside him, pressing on that connection in your head, soothing over it like it's a knot in a muscle that you're trying to unravel.

“Hell,” Billy finally says with his voice shaking imperceptibly, “Is not hot.”

You smile thinking that this was an odd way to begin a story.

But you don't speak, you don't want to distract him, or break the cadence of his thinking or his words.

“From the second I died, I woke up in the same spot Frank had killed me in, except I wasn't really there.”

He takes a shaky breath.

“I went straight to Hell, and I stayed there for a long time.”

You raise your head to look at him, to watch him as he stares out at the dark ocean.

“My punishment was, understanding exactly what I had done, from every point of view that I had wronged. I lived through all of their lives, I felt their pain, their fear- so much fear, I watched myself kill them, I felt the helplessness of each life I’d taken. Maria, Frank Jr., Lisa, and the countless other people I’d killed- I relived their deaths, over and over again until I could only see a monster where I once saw my face.”

“I guess that’s how it starts, Hell shows you who you are, and by the time the punishment comes around, you know you deserve it with every atom in your body.”

Your lower lip trembles, sad, for your demon.

“They made me relive that night so many times, I can still feel the fear in Lisa when I found her, like lightning running down my spine, freezing my limbs in place. She was just a little girl, and I took the rest of her life from her without a second thought.”

It gets hard for you to breathe at the very thought of it, your heart breaks for the people he’s hurt.

“Maria had only ever been kind to me. She’d taken me in like her own brother without a second thought, she’d given me a home, and I’d torn hers to pieces.”

You feel hot tears slip down your cheeks, unable to speak now, listening to him.

“What would you do to a person like that? A traitor, in every sense of the word. Frank was the closest thing I’d ever had to family, my brother, my best friend, he would have died for me. How would you punish me?”

You don’t want to say it, you don’t want to speak it into existence.

You stay silent.

“I’d tell you how I’d do it. I’d give that monster hope. I’d make him believe in something, believe that he could be better, that he could change. I’d show him what being wanted could feel like, and then when he was at his highest point, just as he believes that everything he’s ever wanted could be his, I’d take it all away.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, the pain of his words is almost too much to bear.

“Is that what you think I am?” You ask softly, “A lesson to be learned? Something to be taken away from you?”

“What if you are? What if I’m still in Hell?”

“Which one are you more afraid of? That you are… Or that you aren’t?”

He shudders out a breath, unable to answer.

You wipe at your tears suddenly, sitting up.

“Billy, I can promise you that I’m a real person. I’ve lived through so much pain, and heartbreak, and loss and betrayal. It haunts me all the time. I don’t know if I’m a good person, but I definitely think I’d know if I was being used to punish you.”

“This is real, those stars up there are real, that moon, the ocean, the wind, the island- all of it is real and I’m real too, so are you and I know that because when I touch you,” You move your hand, reaching for his, “When I put my hand in yours I can feel you-” You suck in a breath, your watery vision meeting his.

“-I can feel you in my head, in my chest, under my skin and I know that you’re real because I know you can feel me the same way I feel you.”

He blinks, his hand tightening its grip on yours before he leans forward, pressing his lips to yours harshly.

A cascading ripple of desire in your head, you raise your hand to cup his cheek.

“You have to remind me.” He says in between kisses, “That I’m real, and this is too.”

You smile into his mouth, fingers tangling in the hair at the base of his neck.

“Of course, Billy. I will.”

He sighs, pulling you tight against his chest, his cheek pressed to the top of your head.

“My mistress.” He sighs.

My demon, you think.

You lie beside him, fingers tangled together while you look up at the stars.

He'd used his influence to get a cozy mattress onto the jetty, and you'd taken up a space in it easily after sitting on the wooden bench for so long.

The ocean makes its relaxing sound below you, rhythmic and soft, daring you to have any bad thoughts here.

“Will you tell me about… Dimitri?”

A sad smile pulls onto your face, you nod, knowing that at least your bad experiences will help ground him.

“We met at the start of college. He was a friend of my roommate, so he was kind of always around, and we just became good friends over time. I never really… liked him like that, but I guess he must have seen things a different way. He was really interested in the fact that I'd never had sex, and he always asked me about it… about my plans for losing my virginity. I didn't know at the time, but I guess looking back at it now, there were a lot of conversations we'd had that had made me super uncomfortable. I thought I was uncomfortable because I was inexperienced, but I think that those were uncomfortable situations to begin with.”

“What do you mean?” Billy interrupts.

“Well, he asked about porn preferences, and odd things like if I'd ever used my fingers- and we've spoken about the same things, you and I- but the context, the situations were totally different. I just wasn't interested in him like that, and he would just keep pushing me more and more each time.”

You shudder, remembering some of the ways Dimitri had made you uncomfortable.

“It wasn't… all bad, he really was a good friend at times, helping me out, being a real friend when I was sad, he even brought medicine for me once when I was too sick to move. But… one night we'd been hanging out, and he leaned over and he'd kissed me. I was so shocked, and I didn't really know if I'd wanted to do this with him or not, and it took me a little too long to figure it out. He was, on top of me, reaching for my jeans when I'd made up my mind.”

You pause, blinking, trying to stop the tightness in your throat.

“He got angry. He told me that I'd just been stringing him along this whole time and that I was a shitty person for making him try so hard to be my friend to get nothing in return.”

You take another slow breath, running your thumb over the back of Billy’s hand.

“It wasn't a scary kind of angry, he was just talking loudly. I just kept saying I was sorry, but I wasn't interested like that. Eventually he stormed off. But… in the aftermath, he'd made it seem to all our friends like I was some girl that enjoyed getting attention from boys, and enjoyed hurting them by making them invest time into getting to know me, only to reject them. Some of them didn't believe him, but the ones that did convinced the others to stay away from me and my roommate got so hostile that I ended up finding another place in the middle of the semester just to get away.”

Your stomach twists, not enjoying having to relive this.

“We'd been such good friends too. I could tell him anything at one point and he'd understand me, that just became another weapon used to alienate me.”

“I should have killed him.” Billy finally says, and when you finally meet his eyes, you see them red, angry on your behalf.

You let out an amused breath, followed by a little laugh. You lean in to press your face into his chest.

“Nah, killing him would be too easy. Having him live to see me happy would be way worse outcome for him. People with those kind of mindsets, well, they have ways of making their lives worse all on their own.”

He cups your cheek, his hands are warm, holding you so gently, tender in a way you've only ever dreamed of. He tilts your head up, so that you can look into his eyes.

“I'm sorry this happened to you.” He murmurs.

“Thank you, Billy.” You lean up to place a little kiss on his lips.

“And I'm so angry on your behalf, mistress. Believe me when I say that you're the only thing keeping him alive right now.”

You laugh, leaning in to kiss him again.

You toss an arm over his body, pulling yourself closer to him, his tail adjusts itself around your thigh as you move.

“Tell me something nice.” You murmur into his chest, breathing in his scent, wishing it would stick to your skin, “Tell me about your childhood.”

It's uncomfortably silent for a long moment, you get the feeling that maybe you've said something wrong.

“You can have something nice, or something about my childhood,” he makes an amused sound, “Not both.”

You groan, squeezing him tightly.

“That bad?”

“I'll put it like this, Hell could have punished me by making me relive my childhood and it didn't.”

“Oh.” You hum sadly, “I'm sorry.”

He sighs, reaching to cup the back of your neck, tilting your head back so that he can place a soft kiss on your lips.

“Don't be sorry. I'll tell you about it another time. But right now I have a surprise for you.”

“Yeah?” You ask, smiling as he kisses your mouth again.

“Of course. Look.” He says, angling his head in the direction of the ocean.

It's dark, and you have to squint your eyes to focus on anything. You wait for a moment, seeing absolutely nothing.

It's just the dark ocean, and the pretty stars in the sky. You feel your eyes adjust to the almost pure darkness that you were looking at, you swear you could almost see a very subtle cloud of light in the sky that you think might be the milky way.

“It's very beautiful, Billy, I love the stars.” You state, studying them as best as you could.

He chuckles beside you, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

“So cute, mistress, but I meant the water.”

You blink, confused, you look down.

Suddenly, a streak of blue lights up in the ocean quickly.

What the hell was that? You think, pushing the sheets off your shoulders to stand, walking to the edge of the jetty and looking over.

Your mouth drops open.

Like the sky, the ocean is filled with twinkling light, but it's not a reflection of the stars, but the presence of something bioluminescent in the water.

“Oh my god.” You say excitedly, kneeling on the cold wood, leaning over to see as much as possible.

Any kind of disturbance in the water makes the organisms light up for a small moment. There's a ring of cerulean around the pillars of the jetty, glittering like living stars in front of your eyes.

Another streak of blue illuminates, and you gasp in surprise. You realize that they're fish, lighting up the water as they pass by.

You sit there, hypnotized by the look of the water for a long moment. Billy steps up beside you, and drops a pebble into the water, disturbing the surface so that it glows for you.

You giggle, looking up at him, extending your hands for pebbles as well so that you can toss them in.

He uses his influence to manifest a bag of pebbles that fit perfectly into the palm of your hand.

You feel like a child, transfixed with wonder as you dig into the bag for a few stones to toss into the water.

The ocean ripples with blue light whenever you drop a stone in.

The waves look alive with lustre, and you feel so small under the stars, staring out at all of it, feeling something deep in your chest that you've never ever felt before.

You finally find a way to ask a question that has been on your mind for a while.

“Matt… said that you were trying to corrupt me. Is that still true?”

“Yes.” He says with no hesitation, making something deep inside of you pulse.

“Why?” You ask softly.

“I told you before, I want to own you, the way you own me.”

You find that your arousal is more potent than your fear.

Your lips part, hesitant to ask.

“So, h-how do you intend to do that?”

You feel amusement cascade through your bond.

He leans in, his mouth pressed against the shell of your ear.

“You don’t need to worry your pretty little head, mistress. It’s all going according to plan.”

Your eyelids flutter, your core tightens with excitement.

Perhaps you should be more afraid than you actually were… but where was the fun in that?

#Demon!Billy Russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo #billy russo x female reader #my writings #the punisher #billy russo smut #dark!billy russo #monster!billy russo

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queers-gambit · 1 month

Text

Talk Shit, Get Hit

prompt: ( requested ) your high school bully picks the wrong day to taunt you and it's up to an equally hotheaded Billy to calm you down. call it irony.

pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!reader characters are ALL aged 18 years old

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

word count: 5.4k+

note: the reader is aggressive. the reader is violent. the reader’s hands are rated ‘E’ for Everyone.

warnings: you know the drill: author projects instead of going to therapy and uses personal experience as details. there's physical violence, aggressive reader, depiction of shitty home life / toxic family, (somewhat severe) abusive alcoholic parent, parental abandonment, cursing, bullying, Jason Carver's sister is the bully, injury and blood. cursing, threats, brief cigarette and illicit material use (marijuana / weed), i guess this is hurt and comfort, angst, we talk about Billy's abuse with Neil, too, and kinda abrupt ending.

PLEASE NOTE -

this fic will depict parental abuse, both emotional and physical. this fic will discuss an alcoholic parent. this fic will detail physical violence BY the reader.

DO NOT engage if any of these topics potentially trigger you. you will miss nothing if you decide to skip. author implores readers to value and prioritize their own comfort and mental health.

Of all the days Brittany Carver could've chosen, she picked the worst day imaginable to bully you - being akin to a ticking time bomb. To your immense surprise, she'd laid off that entire week, focused on the "big" cheerleading competition she was leading Hawkins High to victory in. It left her no energy to engage in her favorite past time of tormenting you; figuring that after 6 years of her brutal behavior, she had grown up and lost interest. You weren't someone who people bullied easily, but this thing with Brittany, it was some kind of twisted pissing contest; competition brewing in elementary school that boiled over during middle school and now lasted into high school.

However, God seemed to have a sick sense of humor because on the week your bully had temporarily forgotten your existence, things at home had escalated to a new height not previously known. It was true what they said: if it wasn't one thing, it was another.

The entire week, your mother had only been sober for - well - none of it. She was found morning, noon, and night slumped over in various locations around your home with different bottles of liquor in her grip. The house grew messier each day, a direct result of a checked-out parent refusing to do any chore and destructive little monsters that took form as your twin little brothers. You couldn't keep up, playing mother, sister, housewife, personal maid, and full-time student all at once; pushing your stress levels higher, making you bitter and short tempered. The times your mother was conscious, which was typically to find a new bottle of alcohol, she was a right nasty fuck.

Her bark matched her bite; not only yelling at you, belittling you, and gaslighting you - but also using physical aggression to "teach you a lesson" for being "disorderly" or "a waste of semen" - and yes, that is a direct quote. Her hands were dainty from malnourishment, bulging veins prominent, and despite your father abandoning the family ages go, she still wore her diamond wedding ring that left small cuts wherever she struck you. The times she wasn't sober enough to really "get" you, she put out cigarettes on your arms and thighs; leaving tiny, circular burn scars you coated in Neosporin. She’s been known to break a few wooden cooking spoons over your head, steal the money made from babysitting, even cashed-in your inheritance - pawning all of your dead grandmother’s jewelry. There were plenty of other examples, but dwelling on those instances wouldn't change the past or alter your future, so you stuffed them way deep down in your soul.

Naturally, you didn't say a Goddamn thing; under the impression that everyone had shitty family members they tolerated and that your home life was normal enough to not report to the police. You didn't know any better, you didn't know that your mother downing fifths of alcohol daily was cause for concern. You didn't know that abuse wasn't the standard - emotional or physical. It took years for you to learn that love wasn't supposed to hurt, that love wasn't supposed to scare you, that love wasn't selfish, that your mother didn't actually love you. It took years to convince yourself that you were worthy of love and acceptance, never receiving it from your mother - not knowing you could get it from anyone else.

And then, William fucking Hargrove - or Billy - breezed into your small hometown with a sweet denim-clad ass, golden, curly mullet, and a bad fucking attitude that rivaled your own.

It was a match made in heaven. Or hell.

You both suffered at the hands of your parental figures, turning abrasive and foul-mouthed as defense mechanisms. You and Billy developed hardened exteriors in an effort to protect your soft insides, and when you met officially, it was as if you two could see past that hard shell - straight through the bullshit. You recognized much of the same in one another - like looking in a mirror - and grew impossibly close in an incredibly short amount of time; grateful to have a second half who understood without ever needing explanation.

He just got you. Able to identify common threads between you. Billy understood you, having more empathy than you thought he could muster. He protected you. He loved you. He took care of you - and you did the exact same, considering you two were cut from the same cloth; wanting to assure him he was just as worthy of love as you.

Billy was known around Hawkins for being a womanizing jock with anger issues, and yet, when you finally agreed to go on a date with him, he never even looked at another girl twice. He felt as if dating his best friend, understanding that nobody else would truly understand him the way you do - so he did what he could to keep you.

He did his best to defend you, but there was only so many tangible things the star basketball player could protect you from. Gossip and petty cheerleaders, prime examples. Yet Billy still tried, even taking the liberty to confront Brittany's brother, Jason Carver, about leaving you alone. Unfortunately, it was as if Billy's concern spurred on the cheerleader's bullying, calling you pathetic for hiding behind a man and sending him to fight your battles. You told Billy to stay out of it, that you could handle the situation by yourself, that he would just make the situation much more sticky.

So he did. Billy backed off, letting you deal with the situation as best you deemed; offering his support in return, being a shoulder to cry on for the days your frustration peaked.

That entire week Brittany didn't bully you had been extraordinarily tiresome due to your mother's abuse, wanting to confide in Billy but refraining when you rationalized not bringing him into your bullshit. He had enough of his own. So, while, yes, it was a comfort to have him on your side, you never indulged Billy on the woes of your life. He was meant to be your escape, not your savior; the burden of shouldering your abuse while enduring his own feeling terribly unfair.

You kept quiet, even though you were silently begging for someone to save you. Yet you weren't a damsel, there was no Prince Charming, brave knight, chosen champion to slay the dragons terrorizing you.

However, your boyfriend was much more intuitive than you realized. You always prided yourself on your acting skills, convincing everyone around you that you were indifferent to your mother's temperament, even when showing up at school with a casted wrist, black eye, and split bottom lip. Turns out, parents in Hawkins gossiped much more than the kids, and soon, it felt like the entire town knew about your abusive alcoholic mother and runaway father. Nobody did anything to help you, they just tiptoed around the knowledge and stared at your injuries. Brittany Carver was the only person stupid enough to make the mistake of weaponizing your home situation.

It was a tepid spring afternoon, the sun peaking through the clouds and the first flowers sprouting from the thawing ground. The bell rang to dismiss for lunch, the hallways filled with mingling and milling students all grateful for the midday break. Some gathered in gaggles of friends, some headed directly for the cafeteria, and others, like you, utilized the time to exchange morning class books for afternoon materials. Your fractured wrist had long since healed, but there was a long, straight scar present as a result from the surgery you required; currently, a scabbing cut over your eyebrow, lips stinging from where the flesh split, with a collection of bruises turning different colors to represent various healing stages.

Today simply hadn't been your day.

After a week of constant alcohol-fueled battery, you felt your frustrations finally crescendo after being assigned 3 separate essays; doubling your stress, shortening your fuse, and creating heavy leaded dread as the minutes ticked by. Everyone else felt giddy for the spring-tastic weekend, wanting time to go faster so they could go home - but not you. You might've been the one teenager in the city - no, no, the county - no, wait! The state - WAIT, NO... The country, who didn't want to leave school. You didn't want the day to end and be forced out of your safety zone; anxiety twisting your stomach and prickling your skin at the thought of returning home.

Truthfully, you spent several nights a week at Billy's, being snuck in through his window; feeling unsafe in your own home and wanting to remain close without voicing your need for his proximity. You felt stronger with Billy, as if you could take on the world; as if your safety and wellbeing were (finally) a real priority. He took great pride in being that safe haven for you, thinking it a nice change of pace as he often never seized opportunities to prove himself compassionate and caring. Billy was known for being a brute, someone aggressive and commandeering; nobody associating "safety" with him - except you.

However, this wasn't one of those weekends you'd be able to sneak out, being forced into caring for your two wee brothers; them needing you, dependent on you, relying on the care and love you provide them.

As a result of your shitty week, you had been a right, foul bitch to those unfortunate enough to engage you. Being well aware of your attitude, you tried to avoid everyone, not wanting to lash out at innocent peers - labeling yourself a bitch because of your impeccable self-awareness. Though, no matter the labels you assigned, you simply couldn't rein your emotions into check given your anxiety over returning home overpowered your brain.

Knowing you'd be forced to defend yourself against your own mother set your teeth on edge, projecting your horrible mood onto anyone in your vicinity - making most keep their distance.

Keyword: most.

Much like her brother, captain of the basketball team, Jason Carver, Brittany Carver wasn't the brightest bulb of the bunch. She never picked up hints, she didn't bother reading the room or in-between any lines; she held little to no regard for those around her or their emotional state. Brittany just wanted to assert herself as Queen Bee and thought the best way to achieve that was by bullying those she deemed lesser then she. It gave her a power trip, made her feel swollen with importance, boosting her ego because in her mind, she'd rather be feared than loved.

Brittany was dressed in her pretty, pressed, and bright cheer uniform; her obnoxiously blonde hair tied in a high ponytail that swished dramatically with each step. She wore cherry flavored lip gloss, her make-up caked, skirt hiked higher than school regulation permitted because she suckled at the teat for attention - good or bad.

You heard the second bell ring and finished shoving books in your locker, trying to stuff notebooks in your bag when your locker was suddenly violently slammed shut. Flinching at the quick movement and aggressive bang, you glared at whoever dared interrupt you; a manicured hand flat on the metal to keep the locker closed.

"The fuck you want, Brittany?"

"Awh, someone's already got their panties in a twist," she mocked, two of her cronies giggling their support. "C'mon, babe, I was just stopping by to say hello - missed you this week!"

"Oh, for sure," you sneered in a sickly-sweet tone, "of course you missed me, your life is so much more boring without me in it, huh? Wow, seriously, Brittany, I'm flattered to be the main character in your life, too."

Her eyes rolled and one of the other cheerleaders at her flank, Jennifer, popped flavorless gum. "I'm surprised you still have this level of spunk and cheek to talk like that, would've thought Mommy Dearest beat it out of you by now - she hits you often enough, right? Doesn't she? Hmm, well, maybe she needs to hit you a little harder."

"Excuse me?" You snapped.

"You heard me!" She laughed. "Obviously your mom isn't teaching you any lessons since you still have this whole emo-attitude going on. But I can't say I blame her, you're such a bitch - I'd smack the shit outta you, too."

You nodded slowly, not realizing several students had paused themselves to watch the exchange; knowing this was a longtime coming and didn't want to miss the inevitable drama. Dropping your backpack, you asked, "You sure? You really wanna hit me?"

"Is it that hard to believe? I mean," she smirked, "your own mother does - of course, I do, too. Like, seriously, it's not a secret why she hits you - just look at you! No wonder she hates you, you're just a waste of space, resources, and money. Damn shame Billy doesn't see it yet, but don't worry, he will." She laughed again, "He'll get tired of reopening your lip every time you kiss. It's so pathetic and ugly, he'll start to crave what you can't offer. I mean, seriously, what guy with any self-respect wants to date a girl as broken as you?"

"Know what, Brittany?" You growled, balling your fists at your side. "I'll give you one free hit."

"Excuse me, what?"

"Yeah," your head nodded, "go ahead. One free, clean shot. Hit me if you want to so bad, but you'll only get just this one shot."

Her eyes rolled, "I don't need to, your mom's got that covered."

"Free hit, Brit," you taunted, gesturing, "c'mon, go 'head, lemme have it. Since I'm so insufferable, go right ahead - get your clean hit."

Jennifer and Jasmine shared strange looks, the latter nudging, "Just do it, Brittany, shut this stupid bitch the hell up."

"Yeah, Brittany, shut me the hell up."

She looked to her little goons with a smirk, shrugged and handing over her backpack. When Brittany turned again, she dramatically wound her arm back and used her full strength to swing her fist into your cheek; only making your head turn a fraction from impact. You hummed and nodded, the cheerleader laughing with her girls as if she had "shown you" - but her amusement died when she noticed you barely reacted.

You smirked, cracking your neck, "My turn!"

Your knuckle cracked the bridge of the cheerleader's nose - sick sound of a snap ringing in your ears and jolting the girl's head backwards; momentum forcing her to stumble. Brittany shrieked in pain, holding her nose, unable to defend herself as you launched your attack; first slamming her back into the lockers before jabbing your fist into any vulnerable spot you could.

Similar to the movies, you held Brittany by her hair to keep her in place; wailing your punches repeatedly, each hit making Britt bang into the lockers. Jennifer and Jasmine tried to pull you away but both earned their own punches or elbows to the face for the interference. You focused on Brittany, instantly curating a flock of students all eager to watch.

"FIIIIIIGHT!"

"GIRL FIGHT!"

"BEAT HER ASS, Y/N!"

Brittany sobbed as blood dribbled down her front, staining her pretty uniform, but you were just getting started. The hallway turned noisy, a circle forming around you four as all three cheerleaders were staved off; you running on pure anger, adrenaline, and overflowing frustration that encouraged your foot to kick Britt's gut. You'd never admit it, but Brittany's mocking had hurt you past words, made you feel vulnerable, disarmed, as if you were damaged, undeserving goods. With each punch or kick or stomp, you remembered a different instance of your mother's abuse, seeing her face instead of Brittany's; spurring you on with unrestrained force.

In the parking lot, Billy was leaning on his car with a few teammates from the basketball team and enjoying a hearty nicotine-filled break. Though they'd never label it as such, the boys exchanged idle gossip; listening to Conrad Jones detail his latest conquest, sneering about how "easy" Kennedy Stephens was. They were interrupted when Kyle Lambert sprinted up to them, sneakers skidding over asphalt, panting dramatically, "Billy! Billy! Y-You gotta come see this, man! You gotta help!"

"What?" He asked, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"I-It's your girl - it's Y/N!"

He pushed off his car that was supporting his weight, demanding, "What about her?"

"You gotta come quick, man, you gotta see this! It's fucking wild! Brittany, Jennifer, and Jasmine tried jumping her - "

Billy was surging across the carpark instantly, tossing his cigarette away before yanking the school doors open. He was instantly greeted by the chaotic sight and sounds of a fight, peers gathered in a large circle; screaming their support and hollering encouragement.

"Billy! Oh, thank God!!" Chrissy Cunningham cried, waving him closer. "You have to help! You have to do something, it's 3-on-1!"

He didn't acknowledge the strawberry blonde, just started instantly shoving through the crowd to reach the edge of the fight. It wasn't the sight he was anticipating - fearing the worst, now pleasantly surprised (and a little turned on).

Blood was splattered on the linoleum floors, a single streak smeared on the lockers. Jennifer was left on the ground with her back against the metal, sporting a busted lip as Jasmine was trying to coax her to her feet - sporting a ruddy face and disheveled look. Left in the center, to the entertainment of the crowd, was you on top of Brittany Carver, heaving your fist time and again into her face.

"Shit," he breathed, intending to step forward to stop the fight but needing to shove Tommy H. out of his way when he stepped forward.

"C'mon, man! It's a girl fight! Don't break it up!" Tommy begged, but Billy bullied through.

"All right, that's enough," he grunted, wrapping his arms around your middle and heaving you up and back a step - needing to engage his core and arms when you wriggled in an effort to free yourself. "Hey, hey, hey - "

"Lemme go! This bitch needs put in the ground!"

"Jesus Christ, when did you get this strong?" He grunted, your feet slipping on blood but still being restrained by your boyfriend's impressive strength.

"Talk your shit again, bitch!" You barked at Brittany, who was sobbing in pain and curling into herself. "Lemme hear you say another Goddamn word, you'll need more than another nose job! Fake ass, plastic bitch!"

Jason joined the center and knelt at his sister's side, helping her sit up, glaring at you and Billy. Your boyfriend grit his teeth when Jason snarled, "You need to muzzle your bitch, Billy!"

"I'll fuck you up for talkin' about her like that, Carver, don't provoke me. Watch yourself," Billy snapped in warning, successfully managing to get you behind him.

However, you dodged around him with only enough time to spit hatefully on Brittany, warning, "You wanna talk shit, you'll get hit! Don't let me hear you again - don't you ever dare say another word about my mama! I'll put you in the ground, bitch, fucking try me! I dare you! Try me again, say shit about my mama, and see what the fuck I do!"

"All right, all right, you made your point," Billy stiffly told you, pulling you away by force to avoid you actually killing Brittany. He got a look at her injuries, thinking there must've been more than a broken nose from the way her uniform was stained and her entire face bloodied. "C'mon, we gotta get outta here, come with me - c'mon, baby, you can't touch her anymore, you made your point, you'll end up killin' her or some shit," he panted, shoving through the crowd and effectively ending the fight.

Billy didn't let go of your form until finally outside - letting you rip yourself away as your blood boiled, adrenaline making you much stronger. He watched you pace; huffing, puffing, seething, all but gnashing your teeth hatefully. "That fucking bitch had it coming, Bee, it was self defense!" You finally explained.

"Oh, yeah, princess, totally looked like it," he scoffed, blocking the doors in case you tried to go back. He lit another cigarette.

"It was, you condescending asshole!" You snapped, eyes ablaze and anger tangible. "She approached me, she ran her mouth, and she hit me first!"

"Well," he sighed, "whatever the reason, it's not worth jail time for beating her to death."

"Might be."

"Ain't nothing worth throwing your life away," he offered you the cigarette, but you refused. "Why don't you just tell me what happened? What'd she say?"

"It doesn't matter, Billy."

"I think it matters when she looks like she's gonna need a blood transfusion to replenish what she's lost."

"Whatever - let it be a lesson that you shouldn't throw stones if you're scared of a boulder."

Billy sighed, smoke blown from his mouth, "C'mon, doll, tell me what happened?"

"Doesn't matter, it's done, it's over, it's in the past."

"Baby, I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

"You can't help, period, Billy! There's nothing you can do!"

"Well, you're not even letting me try!"

"'Cause it's redundant!"

"Obviously not when you look like a raging bull!"

Your eyes rolled, head shaking, "I handled it."

"I saw," he scoffed. "So, 3-on-1? How'd that happen?"

"I told you, they approached me."

"Well, I'm gonna need a little more to go on. C'mon, pretty girl, the fuck just happened? You know you can get suspended!" This made you freeze, muscles clamming up, looking purely petrified as if the thought hadn't occurred to you. "I know you don't want that, but if you talk to me, maybe I can help lessen whatever punishment."

"Oh, whatever, like I care about being punished," you snipped, hands twisting together - telling Billy you were beginning to get anxious.

"I think you do, it'd put you in the house with your mom alone," he trailed, pushing away from the doors to approach you like a baby deer. "C'mon, I know you don't wanna get suspended, so just tell me what happened."

"I'm sure you'll hear all about it from your little basketball buddies."

"I don't fucking care!" He snapped with the cigarette trapped and bobbing between his lips, making you look at him in mild shock. "There's gonna be a hundred different rumors, whole fuckin' school watched you beat the shit outta those girls - but I only care about what you have to say."

"There's no point - "

"Oh, Jesus Christ," he growled, snatching the cig between his knuckles, "I just saw three bitches on the ground, all injured, beaten up, bleeding - so stop being so Goddamn stubborn and just tell me! I'm tryna help you!"

"You pulled me off of her, you've helped plenty."

"I'd like to understand how this happened."

"It won't change anything."

"No, it won't, but you have a side to the story. Tell me what went wrong? What happened?"

You sighed, no longer pacing, planting both hands on your hips. Your head shook as Billy tossed the filtered cigarette butt aside, muttering when he exhaled the last of the smoke, "It seems so stupid now."

"Hey," he soothed, crowding into your space and taking one of your hands in his. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it wasn't stupid. You're forgetting, I know well enough to understand you wouldn't throw a punch unless absolutely necessary. Whatever got you riled up like that ain't stupid, sweetheart."

Like a glazed donut, your eyes turned glassy. Billy frowned and took your other hand off your hip, forcing your attention on him. "I swear, I didn't start it," you whispered.

"Only matters that you finished it," he smirked. "Tell me, what the fuck was all that?"

You sighed deeply, offering meekly, "Guess they had it comin'..."

"I know they did," Billy chuckled. "Nobody's that stupid to provoke you, except Brittany."

"I was at my locker... They approached and slammed it shut."

"Right, okay..."

"There were words exchanged, but Brittany, she - " You paused, swallowing thickly, "she started talkin' shit about my mom, about, you know, what she does..."

Billy understood instantly. "You fuckin' serious?" He growled, seeing you nod and fill him in on what was said - unable to look him in the eye as you relived your anger. By the end, you were trembling in emotion and adrenaline loss, Billy sighing deeply and yanking you into his chest for a tight embrace. "All right, yeah," he mumbled, "should've put them bitches in the ground."

"And now," you sniffled, "I'm gonna get suspended, forced to stay home with Ma all next week."

"We'll get you outta it."

"Can't, the school doesn't tolerate fighting on school grounds."

"You said she swung first?"

"Technically, yes. I might've - allegedly - prompted her into it."

"It's still selfdefense, toots, no matter what you or anyone said - if she swung first and hit you, you were only defending yourself."

You shrugged, resting on his chest, "You see the damage? Admin won't care who swung first - not when they're beat to shit."

"Yeah, there's my li'l hothead," he smirked, chuckling slightly before pecking the top of your head. "But you gotta admit, it's impressive how you took on all three."

"I guess, doesn't exactly feel like an accomplishment."

"Nah, princess, seriously," he pulled you back to look at him again, "that's fuckin' hot. I mean, they approached you and still got their asses handed to 'em. That's straight skill."

"Or just a lot of anger with nowhere to go," you frowned. "Think I should go find admin?"

"Nah, they'll probably find you - "

The doors opened and your name was called, the principal's secretary waving you to her. "Fuck," you whispered, releasing Billy.

"I'll come with you," he promised, lacing your fingers together when he took your hand. Billy had to admit, it was a little weird being in the principal's office but not being the one in trouble; waiting without patience in a fraying chair, picking at the exposed stuffing with his leg bouncing. He'd been there 45 minutes, skipping the last half of classes, just waiting as you were behind a closed door with the principal, vice principal, and the disciplinary officer.

He looked up when the school nurse lead Brittany, Jennifer, and Jasmine inside - glaring at them but admiring the scattering of cuts and bruises with dried blood on their precious uniforms. A few minutes later, you were exiting the office with a passive and neutral expression settled on your face. Your lip curled only slightly when you clocked the cheerleaders - hating how smug they all looked - approaching Billy instantly.

"You all right?" He checked, standing and adjusting his jeans.

"Mhm," you nodded, keeping your voice low as the principal called the three cheerleaders into his office. You waited until the door was closed, then informed with a smirk, "I'm not suspended."

"No?"

"Nope," you confirmed. "Apparently, they asked a couple other kids what happened and my story matches theirs. I was minding my business, they came up to me, they started mouthing off, and Brittany was the one who hit me first. So," you shrugged, "guess your idea of selfdefense held strong."

"See? That's good, huh?"

"Yeah," you sighed, nodding absently, "but he said the girls were gonna lose their spot on the cheer squad for this. Listen, I don't think I feel like goin' back to class - kinda just wanna take a nap."

Billy hiked up his jean jacket sleeve, consulting his watch for a moment. "Wanna head to mine? Neil's got the evening shift and Susan has bridge club for a few more hours - we'd be alone."

Your eyes rolled, "No offense, Bee, I don't feel like fucking right now."

"I'm not sayin' that, I'm sayin' let's go nap at mine," he chuckled, picking up your backpack that you forgot about. "We can come back to get your brothers but you know you're not gonna rest if you go home."

You gulped, sighing sadly, "Yeah, well, about that..."

"Something else happen?"

"Apparently... The school has an obligation to call the police if a student reports abuse."

"You reported your mom?"

"Not on purpose," you rushed in defense, "just that... I had to explain what Brittany said to me - so I had to admit what Ma did - or does."

Billy frowned, "Jesus."

"Yeah, so... Maybe going home isn't the smartest idea right now. I wouldn't wanna be there when they conduct their wellness check."

"You wanna stay at mine?" He offered.

"What about Neil?"

"He's a lot nicer with you around," he admitted. "Won't care too much if you stay the night. Plus Max has that club thing after school, then she's going to the arcade; so, she won't need a ride, we can just go."

"You know what? Sure, all right, I'll come to yours," you accepted, your lover boy whisking you away without a second thought. "Thank you, baby."

Your hands were stiff, and when you looked at them, noted split skin and stained blood as a reminder of your aggression... Wondering why the fuck people pushed you to these limits and acted surprised when you reacted? If they wanted a punching bag, they picked the wrong one - but you were willing to remind them.

When you got to the Hargrove residence, you were silent as the grave; stewing in your anger that rolled off you in projected waves. Billy was terribly disarmed, unsure how to properly comfort you - wondering how he would want to be comforted, realizing he'd want to be alone, not subject to anyone's bullshit advice. So, he did what he knew and after handing you a bag of frozen peas for your split knuckles, comfortably stripped and crashed in bed with the window cracked and a rolled joint between his fingers.

You rested on his bare chest, sighing deeply while watching the end of the spliff come to life in a smoldering ember. Billy took the first inhale to make sure it was lit and instantly handed it to you, his arm snug around you and the silence hanging in the air like the swirls of stale, exhaled smoke.

"I'm sorry it got to this point, pretty girl," He offered awkwardly, his other arm bending to prop under his head. Both of you stared off aimlessly, stereo filling the space dully in the background.

"Not your fault," You inhaled and held your breath, handing him the joint. He casually flicked the end in an ashtray resting on the window sill.

"No, but I could've done more."

You chuckled, smoke seeping through your lips and teeth, "Oh, yeah? How? You gonna beat up three girls?"

"Nah but I could beat the shit outta Jason."

"What good would that do?"

"If he didn't want a weekly black eye, Jason would control his sister."

"It's always about control with you, isn't it?"

"I'm just saying," he handed the joint back, lungs pinched to hold the smoke, "I could protect you."

"You already do, baby."

"Let me do more, princess."

"You can't fight every battle for me."

"You could let me try."

"You'd be fighting on two fronts," you frowned, exhaling slowly. "Can't fight for me when you're defending yourself against Neil."

"Might be easier to deal with your shit than my own," he chuckled without humor, accepting the spliff. "Look, I know you don't want me involved, but that's kinda what a boyfriend's supposed to do, right? Protect their woman?"

"I wouldn't know."

"Never had a boyfriend before?"

"Nobody was worth dating until you. Nobody could understand me the way you do so effortlessly."

"'Cause we're one and the same, baby girl. You don't have to do everything by yourself," he inhaled, handing the spliff over again, "don't always have t'be strong."

"Ain't no other choice."

"You could let me in more..."

"You're one to talk."

He sighed, smoke billowing. "You're right. Can't expect you to open up if I don't, so why don't we both try to let the other in more? Yeah, I get it, the shit we deal with ain't pretty but at least we understand each other, right? We're the best for each other to lean on."

"I don't wanna drag you into my bullshit, baby."

"I want you to drag me in, princess. I wanna help you."

You sighed, "Well, Brittany and her cronies are getting suspended and kicked off the cheer squad - they'll be looking for reason to take it out on me."

"Say the word, baby, and I'll beat Jason black-and-blue."

"You're so romantic."

"Only for you - so don't tell anyone. I got a reputation to protect."

You both snickered as the weed you indulged in took effect, lulling you two into a state of ease. Your knuckles had stopped burning, resting your injured hand under the frozen peas, reminding yourself to remain grateful in this turbulent period of life because now, you had someone on your team. Someone who wanted to help carry your baggage. Someone without alternate motives. Someone who was willing to withstand the storm in the hope of feeling the warmth of the sun again.

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Text

Time After Time | Chapter Eighteen

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader, Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Summary: Tommy has an important question for Grace, Ada and Freddie get married, and someone else comes back from the dead

Warning: language

ao3 link | catch up on tumblr here

Chapter 18: Trouble

Will it come to pass, or will I pass the test? You know what they say, yeah the wicked get no rest. You can have my heart, any place, any time. Got so much to lose. Got so much to prove. God, don’t make me lose my mind. — Trouble, Cage The Elephant

“Do you like races?”

The way Tommy asked the question made your heart clench.

You sat in the back room of the pub, peeking through a small crack in the doorway as you tried to remind yourself, It’s not real. You were trying to unsuccessfully distract yourself with the inventory as you stayed out of the way.

But your eye caught the way Grace’s head tilted as she offered him her shy smile.

“Is it Cheltenham?” she asked sweetly. He hummed out a yes. “And you want to take me?”

The way she emphasized the last word made you want to roll your eyes.

You heard him clear his throat. “You’ll fit in. Prim, posh, like the rest of the rich girls who come in for these races.”

You couldn’t help but look down at your own outfit, so dingy next to her deep red sweater and bright blonde hair, not a soft curl out of place. Get it together, you chastised yourself, completely over the self-loathing streak you’d been in lately.

But the way Grace’s cheeks pinkened slightly at the compliment felt like twist of the knife already plunged into your psyche.

This had been Tommy’s plan, you tried to remind yourself. The night before, after he’d come over from his altercation with Billy Kimber in the pub, he’d explained how he’d persuade the new barmaid to accompany them.

You’d almost laughed at the way you had to remind him that he couldn’t just force someone to prostitute themselves out just because he said so. You had to remind yourself that in this period, with Tommy’s influence, he probably could. But you’d been successful in steering him away from that method.

And while his proposal still felt very daunting, he’d decided to go the more flattering route. Still, you didn’t like the idea of leading her on. Not just because of your own feelings, but because you didn’t like putting someone in potential danger. Even if Kimber had good intentions (which you severely doubted, even though you’d never met the man), it wasn’t fun being blindsided that way.

But Tommy had convinced you to ease her into it. Not to tell her something until there was something to tell. Again, you weren’t happy with it — but you’d come to learn how far Tommy was willing to bend on matters like these.

You heard coins dropping on the counter, Tommy’s voice pulling back to their exchange.

“Here, for the dress. Make it red.”

“I’ll need more than that.”

Tommy huffed out an amused breath before you heard another coin be placed on the table. “That’s three pounds.”

“And how much did you pay for the suit you’ll be wearing?”

“Oh, I don’t pay for suits.” You heard the clinking of glass as he collected the bottle of whiskey and glasses he’d asked for when he originally entered. Then he continued, “My suits are on the house, or the house burns down.”

“So you want me to go lookin’ like a flower girl?”

“What I want makes no difference. It’s not me you’re dressing up for.”

The sound of the snug window doors closed, and you felt yourself exhale, knowing the conversation between the pair had come to an end for now. A few seconds later, you heard the pub doors open and close, then the distinct sound of the snug doors close.

Tommy had a meeting — some men who’d reached out wanting to discuss some potential business.

After a few minutes, now back on the inventory, you got up and opened the door to the main room to check on something. You stopped when you noticed Grace leaning against the wall of the snug, her ear pressed against the window. She didn’t notice you, her concentration focused on overhearing whatever conversation was going on in the other room.

You were deciding whether you should stop her, or continue to observe to see what she was up to, when the sound of singing began to grow louder from inside the snug. The singing caused her to push away from the wall, but not before her eyes finally met yours. Her mouth dropped in surprise before snapping shut as she tried to busy herself, but you didn’t miss the slight panic behind her eyes of being caught. She grabbed a crate of bottles and hustled into the side room behind the bar.

“All right, boys,” Tommy boomed as he opened the doors and gestured for them to exit, “when I know who knows what about what, I’ll let you know.”

One of the men pushed the second man still singing out the pub door, and you caught the last bit of his song.

“—I long to see the boys of the old IRA!”

Tommy shook his head as he set the bottle on the counter.

“Pretty bold of them to sing that with the new Inspector running around,” you commented as you moved behind the counter, grabbing the paperwork you’d originally come out for.

He huffed out a chuckle, bringing the cigarette to his mouth. “They’re only rebels because they like the songs.”

You rose your brow, “Will they be back?”

“Nah,” he shook his head, blowing out smoke. “They’ll go back to the Black Swan in Sparkbrook. I have to go, but tonight,” he pointed at you as he walked backwards toward the door.

You nodded, a slight flush across your cheek at the bluntness of his comment. Only a few men sat in the far corners of the booth, but still, it wasn’t like Tommy was trying to be discreet.

It’d been two nights in a row now that Tommy had closed out the day in your apartment. Nothing scandalous had happened either time— he hadn’t even kissed you since you’d gone to the races. Not that you were necessarily opposed to things moving a bit further — but knowing your luck the minute the two of you did, the world would swallow up into itself to stop you.

The sound of Grace clearing her throat as she reemerged from the side room caused you to turn around.

“That wasn’t what it looked like,” she began, and you were surprised at her gumption to address her obvious snooping.

Your brow creased, “Really? You’re going to pretend like you weren't eavesdropping?”

“I was just— they were my countrymen,” she stumbled, her eyes looking down to her hands. “I got curious. I know I shouldn’t—”

“No,” you emphasized.

You could see her throat bobble. “I’ve never seen them before. I haven’t seen many Irishmen in this pub, really. It was a Republic song they were singing, wasn’t it?”

“I think so,” you answered, still skeptic but curious. “Tommy said they don’t normally drink here.”

“Oh,” she said, chancing a look back at you. “Did Mr. Shelby say where they do?”

“Tommy wasn’t exactly whispering just now, I assume you heard him say where,” you answered. Her eyes dropped quickly, her cheeks pink as she met your eyes again. Unsure what her angle here was, your curiosity piqued. “Are you interested?”

“I have no sympathies for them,” she said sharply, almost out of instinct. Her facial expressions shifted from disgusted to shameful, and then back to a forced neutral, as she must have realized her own tone too late.

But in the quick moment, there was pain behind her eyes that you couldn’t help but notice. You didn’t completely understand, but you knew enough to know that what was going on with the division of Ireland at the moment was delicate. Especially with the reputation the Inspector had brought with him. And based on the history you knew, it was only going to get worse.

“I didn’t mean to imply—“

“The keg is empty, I’m going to refill it,” she said instead, avoiding your gaze as she went into the inventory room.

“Grace.”

She stepped back into the doorway, her eyes still downcast. You waited for them to meet your eyes again before you continued.

“Just… be careful.”

Ada had disappeared. You nor Polly had heard from her since Freddie came back and proposed to her at the train station, ignoring Tommy’s request for them to flee the city.

So when a knock on your door startled you early in the morning, you were surprised to see the girl, who flew into your flat with a handful of white fabric.

“YN, you’ve got to help me.”

She threw everything in her hands to the bed as you asked if everything was okay.

Turning around, her grin answered that question for you. “I’m getting married this morning. You have to help me get ready. Please.”

Without another thought, you jump to start helping her. Her dress was beautiful white and ivory layered fabric that resembled very much what you imagined the women’s fashion was going to become. It was loose around her stomach, her baby bump finally prominent.

“Where are you gonna go after the ceremony?” you asked, helping her tie the back of her dress.

She sighed, “Nowhere.”

“But I thought Tommy—”

“Freddie won’t have it. He’s insistent we stay here for now at least,” she said, her previous bubbly mood falling.

“Well since you’re staying, are you sure you don’t Polly to be here now? I mean, it’s not every day you get married.”

She shook her head. “She’ll just try to stop me.”

“And you didn’t think I would?” you asked, half joking.

“I did.” Her answer surprised you. “I’m not an idiot, Y/N. I know that you and Tommy have been seein’ more of each other.”

“It’s all still pretty platonic,” you countered, fiddling with a piece of her jewelry. When she creased her brow at your use of phrase. You offered her a shrug. “We’ve kissed, but I just can’t tell what he wants. I don’t even know if it’s a good idea, I just… I can’t help myself.”

She gave you an empathetic smile, sitting with you on the bed as she took the jewelry out of your hand and replaced it with her own. “I may hate my brother right now, but I do love him. And I know him. I see glimpses of the boy he was before the war when he’s with you. Polly sees it too — we have a bet going on how long it’ll take before the two of you will make it official.”

Your mouth gaped at that, shaking your head. “I’m choosing to ignore that comment.”

She chuckled. “Don’t worry, we wouldn’t dare say anything to Tommy. He’s nearly as stubborn as I am.”

“Fine. But why then did you come here if you thought I was going to try and stop you?”

She paused, biting her lip before fastening her shoes. “Because you didn’t tell Tommy about Freddie. He was genuinely surprised when I told him. Honestly, I’d assumed you’d told him already—”

“I wouldn’t.”

“I know.” She offered you a smile before tilting her head. “And, I know you don’t normally like to talk about the deep things — at least, not with me — but… can I ask you, why?”

Ada hadn’t pried much into your life. It’d been one of the things you’d been more grateful for in your friendship.

Honestly, previously you had assumed she hadn’t pried because of her immaturity. She was very much a carefree, live-in-the-moment kind of girl, keeping most emotions and conversations at the surface level.

But the look on her face made you wonder if you hadn’t been giving the girl credit. Maybe she was all those things sometimes, but she really did surprise you on how sympathetic and slightly intuitive she could be when she wanted to. And maybe she’d always been aware of your aversions to personal prying this whole time.

You took her hand and offered her a sincere smile. “I moved around a lot growing up. I found it difficult to make friends, even through adulthood. When I first got here, you welcomed me in when I had no one. You helped me make the most of this life I found myself in and helped me miss my old life a little less. You welcomed me into your family and you were always there to remind me of a cheerier world. I’ll always be grateful to you.”

Ada pulled you into a hug. “I knew I made the right decision.”

You wiped away the small tear that’d rolled down your cheek as she pulled away, busing yourself with the final piece of the ensemble.

You stood up and began tying on her veil. It was so delicate and ornate, adorned with flowers around edge that matched the free spirit you’d always seen in your friend.

You stood her up and smoothed out her veil, then turned her to face you, your eyes scanning for any final touches. When you were done, you took a step back and covered your mouth, your smile bursting. Her own smile widened at your reaction, turning to appraise herself in your mirror.

“Oh Ada,” your heart was bursting, “you’re beautiful.”

She blushed, her grin wide and excitement infectious. Despite the circumstances of her fiance, you really were happy for Ada. As the first person who’d accepted you in this new world, you felt very protective and loyal to Ada.

It’d been why you kept her secret about Freddie from the rest of her family, and why you’d promised to wait and tell Polly until that afternoon, after you knew the ceremony was official.

While anxious, the matriarch had taken the news better than you expected. Though you guessed she was anticipating them getting married, what she hadn’t was Tommy’s deal with the Inspector to get Freddie out of the city.

Apparently, Polly’s attempt at ‘dealing with it peacefully’ hadn’t worked out the way she expected. Ada turned up at the Garrison flushed and out of breath, looking for either her brother or husband.

“They’re gonna kill each other,” she’d nearly cried when you grabbed her arm, stabilizing her as she bent forward.

“Ada, you need to calm down,” you tried to push the cup of water back into her hands. She breathed sharply as she rubbed her stomach. “This isn’t good for the baby.”

“I don’t care,” she said through a haggard breath. “I have to find them. I have to try—“

You followed her outside and kept up with her until Freddie emerged from the stairway of a canal bridge. She threw herself into him, and you urged him to take her home and make her rest. You watched from the side of the road as they crossed it.

“He’s going to ruin her life,” you heard Tommy’s deep voice behind you.

“You can’t keep doing that to her,” you said without turning around. You felt him move beside you, both of you still looking in the couple’s direction until they turned down an alleyway. “The stress isn’t good for the baby. She nearly passed out in the pub just now worried you two were going to kill each other—“

“I should have.”

“But you didn’t.”

He took a deep breath, “He loves her.”

Your eyes shifted over to finally look at him, his eyes still staring at the empty alleyway.

That was the first time he’d ever acknowledged their feelings for each other. You were convinced he thought Freddie was using Ada — hell, since they got back, you were tempted to start thinking that way too. It wasn’t a secret how dedicated he was to the communist party, and you knew most of the strikes around here were either spearheaded by Freddie himself, or encouraged by him. There were times you began to question what he loved more: Ada or his cause.

But time and time again, Ada assured you that their love was real and strong enough to combat even Tommy’s fire.

And now, it seemed, something had finally assured Tommy that Freddie wasn’t just in it for her last name.

“What convinced you?”

“When we were kids, Ada used to chase us around, shouting at us to slow down, to wait for her, to include her in our little games.” Tommy’s throat bobbled as you watched the reel move behind his eyes, lost in his childhood memories. “Freddie would always slow down. I never realized… or maybe I did.”

He blinked, breaking the trance he’d been in as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a cigarette. He ran it between his lips and lit it.

Blowing the smoke away, his eyes hardened.

”He asked about the guns,” he said, his voice low despite the relatively secluded spot. “You haven’t told Ada—“

“No,” you said firmly, not letting him finish his question.

He hummed approvingly. Another moment passed before he spoke again. “You never asked me why.”

Your brow creased as you tried to decipher what he meant.

“Freddie and me.” He blew out a puff of smoke. “I’ve seen you watch us, when we’ve been in the same rooms. You heard what he said in the pub the day Danny blew in. And I know Ada has told you how close we used to be. But you’ve never asked me why Freddie and I fell out.”

“You never offered,” you countered, meeting his eyes again. You crossed your arms, not sure what he was playing at with bringing this up now. When he brought the cigarette to his lips again, it was obvious he wanted you to continue. “I guess I just assumed you both returned from the war with different outlooks on the world. He doesn’t accept the powers-that-be and wants to change them.”

He hummed, blowing out his smoke. “And me?”

“Did you ever feel that way?” you found yourself asking, head tilted as you considered him. You hadn’t thought about it before, but it would have made sense. Freddie’s passions weren’t new, they were deep and rooted, and it would make sense for him to have been a member of the communist party either during the war or before. You were realizing now that there was a chance Tommy could have been entertaining the idea as well before he left.

The way Tommy’s lips tightened into a hard line and he lifted his chin told you enough. But surprisingly, he offered you a short answer. “Once. Before.”

“And now?” He didn’t answer that one. You took a deep breath as you continued. “Maybe you still don’t agree with the powers-that-be, but I don’t think it matters to you anymore. Freddie wants to change the world; you want to use it.”

“I won’t let ‘em put us back in the mud,” he said, his voice calloused as he stared forward. He swallowed, “I need a drink.”

Instead of walking toward the Garrison, where you knew Grace was closing up for the night, Tommy turned right, toward your apartment.

You felt your breath let out, not realizing you’d been tensed up since Ada had blown into the Garrison.

Catching up with Tommy, you decided to lighten the mood a little. “I’m gonna need to restock if you keep drinking all my whiskey,” you teased.

He let out a humored breath. “Well, next time you’re at the Garrison, just grab a bottle on me.”

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah Harry would love that.”

“Not up to Harry anymore what happens to the inventory.”

Tommy let out a puff of smoke as you turned back to face him before letting him into your flat.

“What do you mean?”

“I bought it.”

“What?—“ your brow creased as his words sunk in. “You bought the Garrison? Can you even do that?”

“I made Harry a very fair offer,” Tommy said plainly as he made himself comfortable in your flat. It was beginning to feel less strange to have company. “He’ll stay on for as long as he wants and still manage the place.”

You felt a pang of sadness for the former owner. Harry loved that place, and always had such pride for it and its patrons.

“But why?” You asked, starting to take your shoes off. Despite you traveling in time, there were still some little rituals that you just couldn’t shake. And taking your shoes off when you got home was one of them.

Tommy began to pour two glasses. “Arthur needs some direction.”

“A distraction, you mean.”

He rose his brow, but nodded. “Regardless. He needs to keep his head out of the bloody bottle and on the business. Besides, weren’t you the one who said we needed to find a way to pass the influx of money coming in from the shop?”

It’s true, you had raised that question to Tommy recently after the Monaghan Boy win. Not that you knew much more about money laundering than you’d learned from watching Breaking Bad. But it’d apparently been enough to pique Tommy’s interest and take you seriously.

Tommy was right though. What you’d been anticipating was finally coming to a head — Tommy was, for all intents and purposes, the head of the Shelby family and the Peaky Blinders. Arthur, who had been feeling the effects of his slow descent for the past couple months, was drowning his sorrows almost daily and picking a fight whenever he got the chance. You’d even begun watering down his drinks by the time he’d get to through half a bottle on nights when you were working in the pub and he was working his way to being sloshed.

“You’ll have to help him,” Tommy spoke up after you didn’t comment.

You breathed out a disbelieving laugh, “Like Arthur would ever listen to me.”

“You’ll have to make him,” he took a step toward you and offered you your drink. When you met his eyes, he smirked, “Like you did me.”

You rose your brow. “You want me to nearly push him in the Cut and play a get-to-know-you drinking game with him?”

His smirk turned into a small smile, “Maybe not exactly like you did with me. But you’ll talk to him. You’ll reason with him. He’ll come to accept it.”

“You’ve been promising he’d come to accept me for months now,” you countered.

“And he has, you just haven’t noticed.”

You shook your head, still not convinced and beginning to worry about how you’d get along with Arthur now that you’d be essentially working for him.

“You two and can discuss the Garrison’s future at the next family meetin’.”

You rolled your eyes, half laughing at the comment. “The only reason Arthur invited me to the last one was to accuse me of influencing you. There’s no way he’d be cool with me coming to more—“

“He won’t have a choice.”

Your brow furrowed, “What does that mean?”

Tommy pulled your hand into his, causing you to stop pacing and stepped into you. The act surprised you, meeting his eyes again. They were soft, a small crease in the corners as he looked between your own, then to your lips.

“You’re mine, ‘member?” his deep voice vibrated against you as he reached up and ran his thumb across your cheek, then down to your chin. You got deja vu from that first night outside of your apartment building as he reminded you of the words you’d said to him Christmas Eve in his bed. “Well I’m yours. We’re in this together, ya?”

Your heart pounded at his words. Whatever hesitations or insecurities you’d been feeling were gone as Tommy held you against him, his eyes waiting for your response.

“Yeah,” you said easily, welcoming his lips to meet yours.

His kiss was soft, a gentle tug that showed no signs of being rushed, but savored. You hummed contently into it as you felt his lips smile against yours.

What was it about this man that made your brain go fuzzy and speech cease? Every time he brought his lips to yours, you felt like everything made sense. Like you weren’t standing in a room surrounded by puzzle pieces — but that the final piece was falling into place, even just for a moment. You laced your fingers through his hair, desperate to hold on to this feeling for as long as you could. Even if it was just a taste.

He pulled away slightly, his forehead rest against yours as you caught your breath. “Whatever we face, whether it’s Arthur or Ada—“

“Or Kimber or Campbell,” you added with a slight mocking mirth.

He breathed out a soft laugh and rolled his eyes. “Or whatever else might come our way — I know we can face it. Together.”

You lifted on your toes slightly to meet his lips again when a hard knock at your door caused you to jump.

You and Tommy looked to each other confused — no one aside from Tommy or Ada ever came to your apartment. A second knock prompted Tommy to take the lead in opening the door as you grabbed for your bag with Polly’s gun inside.

“Danny?” Tommy greeted opening the door wider for the formally dead man to come into your apartment.

Danny Owens gave you a shy smile and wave before offering Tommy a salute. “Danny Whizz-Bang reporting, sir.”

You dropped your bag, pointing at the man and looking between him and Tommy. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

Tommy nodded, “at ease. What are you doing here, Danny?”

“Charlie said to try here if you weren’t at your place,” he said before taking a seat. Tommy offered him the bottle of whiskey and he poured himself a drink.

“So no one is gonna explain the very alive friend of yours sitting at my kitchen table?” you asked, still unsure what was going on.

Tommy took a deep breath before running his hand through his hair. “It was a trick to fool the Italians. Danny’s been living in London, keeping an ear out. Apparently, there’s news he couldn’t wait on.”

“I was in a pub,” Danny began, gripping the edge of his hat in his hands. “It’s called the Mother Redcap, an Irish pub. I was talking to some old bloke about Birmingham. He said there’s been trouble. An IRA man shot. He said a lot, but the only bit I heard was that their high command think it’s the Peaky Blinders who shot him. I came up on the next boat to warn you.”

“I heard about that guy,” you said softly. “It was outside of the Black Swan. Was it one of the men you met with the other day?”

Tommy nodded.

You thought about the way Grace had eavesdropped on the men, and how she’d been so interested on where they were from. Your brain ticked that there was a connection there, but you brushed it aside on the grounds that you were just searching for something to be horribly wrong with her. While you believed she still had some kind of secret, you didn’t think she’d go as far as shooting someone.

You looked down at your own hands, a vision of blood covering them from your own dirty deeds, and knowing that anything was possible.

“Is it true?” Danny asked, pulling your attention back to the men in front of you.

“No,” Tommy answered, taking a deep breath. “But lies travel faster than the truth.” He thought for a moment before gesturing toward Danny. “Get a message to them. Tell them to send someone to parley. Tell them there’s been a misunderstanding and we don’t want any trouble.”

Danny swallowed the rest of his drink before rising. He saluted Tommy again, then gave you a slight bow. “I will do my duty, sir. Ma’am.”

He left before you could ask anything more. “Tommy, what the hell—“

“Just another thing to add to the list,” he said, shaking his head as he grabbed his own glass and threw it back. “Right now, our focus is on Kimber. And tomorrow is Cheltenham. We’ve gotta be ready.”

>> next chapter: coming soon << chapter masterlist

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #thomas Shelby x reader #tommy Shelby x oc #thomas Shelby x oc #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #time after time #mine #fanfic #fanfiction

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happy74827 · 5 months

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Hi there, I was watching over and over again your Billy edit because I'm obsessed and I was wondering if it could be a possibility to have more stuff on him? I could get on my knees and beg to have more content about him for real

Anyway have a nice day/night and don't forget to drink your water🫵🏻

No because same 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️ he fr needs way more content than what’s out there because as much as I love Mike Schmidt (Mikey 🥹), all of Josh’s other characters deserve AT LEAST some hype.

As for the edit, I’m so glad there’s people out there that actually love it haha. Seeing edits on tumblr seems to be extremely rare, so I didn’t think people would particularly enjoy that compared to fics and such but I guess I was proved wrong.

Just so you know, I do plan on bringing more content on Billy himself (I already posted a fic on him and I’m thinking of plots for another 👀) but as for a treat for the Thanksgiving Weekend, here’s a quick edit I made earlier just to lighten the mood. Enjoy :)

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venus-haze · 4 months

Text

Pretty Tied Up (Otis Driftwood x Reader)

Summary: Or, the perils of working at Red Hot Pussy Liquors.

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. This takes place between House of 1000 Corpses and The Devil’s Rejects. Based on the Guns N' Roses song. Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Armed robbery and implied kidnapping. Sexually explicit content that involves extremely dubious consent and sadism, gags, bondage, groping, and gunplay. Otis is pretty much his own warning. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

Having regulars at a liquor store was a double-edged sword. You got to know some customers well enough to like them, but over time you’d notice they looked increasingly worse for wear as they came up to the checkout with their usual purchases. The exception, of course, were the Fireflys, who you always found unsettling, despite Baby’s attempts to seem affable.

“My brother likes you,” she said one day, leaning against the counter as you rang up three bottles of vodka and two six-packs of beer.

“RJ?” you asked, glancing at her brother standing a few feet behind her.

RJ was always nice enough. Didn’t say much. Tall. Burly. Strong. Ruggedly handsome. You’d be open to going out with him.

She laughed in her usual high-pitch that always toed the line of being spine-chilling. “No silly! I’m talkin’ ‘bout Otis.”

You stared at her blankly. “Who’s Otis?”

“You know, long hair, blue eyes, scruffy ol’ beard. He came in here the other night. You must’ve made one hell of an impression. He won’t shut up about ya.”

Oh yeah. Him. Bought a bottle of whiskey and a stack of hardcore BDSM porno magazines. ‘You ever look at this stuff?’ he’d asked, eyeing you as you put a magazine with a nude, distressed-looking woman suspended by intricate ropes on the cover into a brown paper bag. When you first started working there, you could hardly stomach the sight of the rougher fare. As time went on, you found yourself hesitantly intrigued. ‘Gotta have something to do besides go to church on Sundays,’ you replied, earning a wicked grin from him.

“That’s nice,” you said.

She snickered. “My brother’s not nice.”

“Is this everything?” you asked, hoping to move the interaction along.

“Hey RJ, you gettin’ anything else?” Baby asked over her shoulder.

He shook his head, approaching to pick up the crate you put the bottles in.

Baby handed you a wad of cash. She almost always overpaid, letting you keep the change, which was most of the reason you humored her antics in the first place. “Thanks darlin’! See ya real soon!” she said, wiggling her eyebrows, keen to something you were yet to be aware of.

Two nights later you were working the store alone. Your coworker Billy didn’t even have the decency to call and let you know he wasn’t coming in–or quit. He just didn’t show up at 9:30 when he was supposed to, and your phone call to his house was met with a busy dial tone. Asshole.

It’d been a slow night anyway, but you would have appreciated the heads up, or at least another body in the place when the front door was kicked open.

“This is a robbery! Don’t fucking move or I’ll shoot!”

Despite the bandana covering the bottom half of his face, you knew who it was right away. Long, graying hair and piercing blue eyes that were burned into your memory from his last visit to the liquor store.

You lifted your hands in the air. Your manager had told you on your first day that there was always a possibility of this happening. Better to just let them take whatever cash and booze they wanted and report it to the police once they left. ‘Don’t go playin’ hero. We got insurance.’

“Keep those hands up,” Otis said, slowly approaching the counter. “I’m gonna walk back there, and you’re gonna open the register for me.”

You nodded, eyes glued to him as he slithered around the counter like a snake, gun steadily pointed at you.

“Go on,” he said.

With a trembling hand, you opened the register, the cash-filled drawer popping open for him. He pressed the gun to your temple, instructing you to put the cash in one of the brown paper bags by your side. You tried not to glance at him too much while you stuffed the paper bag with the money, finally pushing it toward him and sticking your hands up again.

“Alright, now turn around.”

“Wh-What?”

“I ain’t got all night.”

You glanced at the door. No way you could make a run for it, but maybe someone would walk in and be able to do something.

He followed your gaze and let out a cruel scoff. “Ain’t nobody coming through that door who can save you. I’m the closest thing to salvation you’ll ever get. Now turn the fuck around.”

With a shaky breath, you did as you were told, freezing when you felt the barrel of the gun press against the back of your head. His free hand grabbed your ass through your jeans, his strong grip almost painful as he squeezed each cheek. “Wonder how much it’d take to make you bruise?” he mumbled, almost to himself. He squeezed again, harder this time, as if he were trying to dig his fingers into your flesh. “Too much work when I can just cut into ya.”

“Don’t hurt me,” you pleaded, though hearing your own voice, you weren’t quite sure how convinced you were that you didn’t want him to do his worst. Knowing what you did about the Firefly clan, the rumblings around Ruggsville about the strange family–it would be pretty damn bad.

“C’mon now, mama. You led me to believe you liked it rough,” he said, voice gravelly and low as he slipped his hand between your legs from behind, rubbing the rough denim material and your cotton panties against your pussy, the friction hitting your clit in just the right spot for you to let out a shameful moan. Your hand flew to your mouth, the other clenched in a fist as you tried not to give him the reaction he wanted. Didn’t want to prove him right. Show him how curious you were. You didn’t even have it in you to fight back, not when you were on the edge, so achingly close until suddenly you weren’t anymore.

You nearly whined when he pulled his hand away, horrified at yourself, your reaction to his groping you. He grabbed each of your arms, roughly pulling them behind your back and tying your wrists together with something itchy and uncomfortable that dug painfully into your skin as you fruitlessly tried to free yourself from the secure knot he made. What the fuck did he use? Your eyes widened at the carpet burn-like sensation that’d begun to sting your skin. The roll of twine beneath the register. You used to secure some customers’ more sensitive purchases sometimes.

Fingers and cloth forced their way into your mouth until you were gagged with the bandana Otis had pulled off of his face. He turned you around, looking you over with a slow, satisfactory nod. “I was having trouble getting over this mental block in my art. Started drivin’ me crazy. Y’know, they showed this nature documentary about a group ‘a lions a while back. How they protect and provide for their families, stalk their prey and go in for the kill–do you ever think about how we’re the only species where killing is taboo? For the rest of the animal kingdom, it’s just nature, part of the circle of life. There was a scene where the lion saw a gazelle from way across the savannah, and it was like nothing else existed except for its prey. It couldn’t rest until it tore that damn thing apart. That’s how I felt when I saw you.”

You shook your head frantically, your pleas of mercy muffled by your gag. Fat tears blurred your vision until he morphed into something monstrous, straight out of a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from.

“I ain’t gonna kill ya,” he said, roughly petting your head, “not yet anyway, that’d be a waste when I’ve barely even started.” He gave you a mean grin as he grabbed a hold of your hair by the roots. “I got a lot planned for you. Those magazines gave me a lot of ideas too.”

He lowered the gun, dragging it between your breasts and further down your abdomen until he reached the waistband of your jeans. Using his other hand, he unbuttoned and unzipped them with alarming ease, pulling them down until they fell to your ankles. Your breath hitched as he pressed the barrel of the gun against your cunt, the thin fabric of your panties the only thing stopping him from being able to slide it inside of you.

Still, the cool metal sent a shiver through you as he rubbed it against your clit, black spots creeping into your peripheral as you hyperventilated through his sadistic experiment. He was hard. That much you knew, but what frightened you, perhaps most of all, was how wet you had become since he tied you up. Your skin still screamed against the rough twine that’d been cutting into your flesh, soon to draw blood as you kept struggling.

Your hips jerked, pressing the gun barrel closer to your pussy that was eager to betray you and clench around it if he just pushed past your panties and shoved it up there. You didn’t want him to do that, not in your right mind. But no one in your situation could be considered in their right mind, could they?

“Don’t fight it,” he encouraged gruffly, blue eyes piercing through you as he watched your knees threaten to give out as you neared orgasm. “Give the devil his due, mama.”

Your hands curled into fists, nails threatening to break through the skin of your palm. Then he did it. Slipped the barrel of the gun past your soaked cotton panties. Your brain short-circuited in a rush of terror and thrill at the sensation. You came, eyelids fluttering shut, a guttural moan tearing from your throat and pushing through your gag. Your limbs felt like ghosts, incorporeal parts of you that could only offer a vague sense of feeling compared to the sensation that overwhelmed your body, pleasure and adrenaline coursing through your veins all the same.

Gun be damned, you collapsed against the checkout counter, unable to support yourself any longer. Your chest heaved, unable to catch your breath with the now saliva-soaked bandana still shoved halfway down your throat. An astounded whine escaped your lips when he brought the gun up to his nose and sniffed. “This is it, mama. This is the devil’s salvation.”

He wasn’t making any damn sense, or your brain was too fuzzy to comprehend what he was saying. All you knew about the devil was from the Bible and that stupid Dr. Satan story people regurgitated like spoiled food. If Otis was the devil, you’d believe it, though.

The sound of a car door slamming shut made your eyes widen, and you glanced over your shoulder, your muffled screams of either help or warning to however was approaching.

“Sorry about this, darlin’. We’ll have a lot more fun later,” he said, hitting you across the face with the gun, sending you to the brink of consciousness.

The bell on the door faintly jingled, and the last thing you remember seeing was a large, familiar figure walking towards you.

“C’mon and help me get ‘er in the car,” Otis said just as you passed out. "Don't forget the cash."

#otis driftwood x reader #otis driftwood #house of 1000 corpses #the devil's rejects #3 from hell #slasher x reader #slasher community #slasher fandom #otis driftwood fanfic #otis driftwood imagine #slasher fanfic

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hellfire--cult · 11 months

Text

Baring Teeth {Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader} - Ch. 7

Picture for Banner: pitifulbaby

Chapters: Masterlist (Go here to see list of chapters.)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Non-Traditional Omegaverse, Slow burn, Modern!AU, Mechanic!Eddie

⚠️Warnings: Ab*se, Violence, Mental Health, Cursing, Smut (mild), treat it as a normal Enemies 2 Lovers book, but the A/B/O dynamic will appear at some point. Trauma, manipulation, dirty talk, omegaverse topics.

Crossposted on: Wattpad & AO3

A/N: I promise, we're entering the mature zone soon! Just gotta be patient with me ;) Remember, all reblogs are very much appreciated, as well as your comments!

Also! I am uploading a very short story about Stripper!Eddie and a very Shy reader ;) Here you go.

Anyways, Enjoy!

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Chapter 7

“Please, please, give me a break, I can’t do this again, please!” You yelled while laying on the hospital’s bed, your upper body propped up with each foot hooked into some metal pedals in each corner of the bed to keep your legs spread.

The doctor pulled away, looking up from in between your legs with pity eyes and shook her head.

“We can’t stop the process sweetheart, a pause can cause an alteration and we’re already more than halfway there! I promise!” You were processing what she was saying, with tears streaming down your cheeks, your bottom lip busted open from biting onto it way too hard to control your cries. The pain was unbearable, feeling like you were being split open, your insides being ripped apart.

But you wanted this. You both wanted this. Something is wrong with you, it has to be. There’s no other explanation for it, no matter if the doctors ran a bunch of tests on you and said everything should really be fine, you didn’t believe that. Something was not working, but you really wanted this.

So you nodded for your doctor to proceed, and the pain worsened from there.

———————————————————————————

“Buckley!” You busted the bar doors open in a slam, red faced, completely pissed off, already strutting towards the all too well booth and there she was. Hiding behind Steve at the corner of the seat, and your glare was digging a bullet through her skull. Robin gulped and looked over Steve’s shoulder.

“H-Hi! I’m sorry I didn’t–”

“Sorry?! You left me to do Hargrove’s presentation all by myself! And now I find you drinking again after telling me you felt sick in your stomach today! What’s the fucking deal Robin!?” You were pissed, so much, you didn’t notice the man sitting across Robin while he took a sip of his beer.

“Shit, baby, I’m sorry– I just didn't feel like going into work today either, and now I feel better!” She tried to excuse herself but you shook your head at her, sitting inside the booth, right next to the man that was looking at you as if you were crazy because you still hadn’t noticed him, and now you were sitting next to him.

Your eyes were filled with rage, and also another feeling you didn’t want to feel with Robin. You were feeling used. As if she had taken advantage of you for this project, but you didn’t even have to punish her for it, because–

“Beer for She-Hulk.” You heard Jonathan talk, and he knew you too well, placing the cold beer right in front of your face. Whenever you were angry, you ordered beer instead of a sweet drink. You grabbed onto the bottle and took a large sip of it, Steve’s eyes frowning in worry as he looked back and forth to you and the man next to you.

“Um–” Robin began and you slammed your bottle on the table, giving a huge sigh. You looked down at the condensation of the bottle, and you knew you would have to deliver the news to Robin. So without looking up, you kept staring at the label of the beer.

“Mrs. Liana took you off our project.” And silence fell on the table. Robin was looking at you, completely perplexed as you kept looking down at the bottle. She knew she didn’t help you much with the project, but it still stung in her heart that she was ripped away from it.

“You didn’t stop her?” She asked you and you looked up at her with a frown on your eyebrows.

“What did you want me to say? All the beta presentations of the project were done by me because you didn’t know what to say Robs. No matter if I did a speech for you or not! And then, the final presentation and you didn’t show either!” You did try to help Robin be more into the project, knowing it was a big opportunity for the both of you, but she was busy with Vickie visiting, or going out with Steve, or ‘feeling sick’.

Robin was looking now at her own bottle of beer, feeling completely dejected. She knew she had it coming, her own negligence kicking her right back in the ass. She sighed and took a sip of her drink, giving you a nod.

“It’s fine. I deserve it. But it means more work for you then.” You wanted to yell at her, telling her that she didn’t really help, so it would really just remain the same for you. You took a deep breath in, calmed down, and gave Robin a nod.

“Yes. But it’s fine, I can handle it.” You shrugged and took another sip, a little bit calmer now. You were stressed because of this, because it meant all the meetings and getting together with clients will be thrown your way, but this was nothing. You liked the distraction.

“Hey, I’m sorry… I had my head stuck in useless stuff.” You shook your head at her and smiled sadly.

“Hey, at least you got a life. I only have my work, and a list of useless people that don’t know how to satisfy someone else’s needs.” You say, taking out a pack of flavored marlboro from your suit’s pocket. You were in the smoking section of the bar, and each booth had vents over their heads to keep the smoke out. You lit it up to take a large swig out of the stick, letting the smoke fill your lungs to then exhale out, feeling your muscles relax.

“Um…” You heard Steve call you out and you looked at him with a confused look on your face, but he wasn’t looking at you. You followed his gaze towards the person that was sitting next to you, and had been staring at you since you sat down.

Brown irises locked with your own eyes, and you felt a cold sweat invade you, but no anger came to your chest. You were far too stressed for this bullshit, so you sighed heavily and rested against the back of the booth, looking back towards the bottle.

“Great.” You say, taking a sip of your drink while holding the smoke on your other hand.

“I don’t know how you didn’t notice me.” Eddie asks you while taking another sip of his drink, his stomach was in a knot while sitting next to you, and he could sense your distress ever since you entered the bar.

“You aren’t the center of the world Munson, or my world for that matter. Sorry to disappoint you.” You say bitterly and Eddie bit the inside of his bottom lip to contain the snarky remarks he wanted to say to you, but Steve shot him one glare with a shake of his head. Eddie let out a shaky, angry, breath and clenched his jaw tightly.

“About the other night–”

“Please don’t.” You immediately spat out through your teeth. You didn’t have the energy to deal with his half ass apology, and you weren’t in the mood of apologizing either. Eddie’s eyes perked up at your response and looked at you, his mood souring each minute it passed.

“I’m trying to be civil here, Peach.” He calls you out and you roll your eyes towards the ceiling, taking another swig of your cigarette, looking at him to blow the smoke into his face. He closed his eyes but didn’t flinch, his body heating up with anger as he opened them up to look at you again.

“Forget about it. You trying to be civil Munson is like a penguin learning to fucking fly.” And you heard Steve sigh heavily, rubbing his eyes with his hand while Robin stared at the interaction. Eddie scoffed, slamming the bottle on the table to look at you.

“What is your fucking problem? I am trying to apologize, and you can’t help but be an insufferable cunt.”

“Look in the mirror Munson.” You took a large swig of the cigarette, putting it out in the ashtray. “Like I said, forget it. I don’t want half assed apologies you don’t really want to make, and we don’t have to act like we tolerate each other. Yeah?” You say, blowing the smoke out of your lips as you talked. The panging on your chest was due to realizing you were sitting next to your mortal enemy, but it increased knowing he wanted to lie to you.

An apology? From him? Yeah, right.

“What the hell are you even smoking?” He asked, grabbing the pack in front of you to inspect it. “Does this really say Melon flavored? Jesus christ.” He dropped the pack back in front of you to take a sip of his own beer. You were about to retort to him, tell him he can shove his original flavored camels right up his ass, but your phone started to ring.

You pulled it out, the tune of Harry Potter filling the air as you looked at the caller ID. You didn’t recognize the number, so it might be from your work. You sighed. You didn’t expect to have these kinds of calls right after your final presentation. You believed this would happen after meeting with a few clients, giving them your contact for future conversations. You slid the green button and put the phone in your ear.

“Hello?” You greet, taking a sip of your beer.

“Hi there Mousy.”

You spat it all over Steve and the table before you. Coughing wildly as you patted your chest to regain your breathing. Steve had stood up with a yell, trying to wipe his face and clothes as Robin let out a wild laugh, pointing at the stains on his shirt. Eddie was just bewildered at the interaction, but couldn’t help but hold in strangled chuckles in his throat.

“Shit!” You yell, grabbing onto a napkin to wipe away your mouth and hand Steve some more as he glared at you.

“Damn, did I call at a bad time?” You heard him chuckle on the other side, and you felt nerves and warmth invade your whole body. He sounded way too good on the phone, Jesus christ.

“I– wait–” You stood up, motioning for Robin to keep an eye on your stuff and she nodded at you while holding her giggles in, trying to fix Steve’s hair. The brown haired guy was still glaring at you as you made motion with your hand as a sorry. You stepped away from the booth, walking outside of the bar to talk a little bit more privately. “Sorry, I’m at a bar with friends and could barely hear you.”

“Ah, so I did call at a bad time.” He says, and you could even hear the smile on his face as he did, because he wasn’t going to hang up. You bit your bottom lip, holding back a smile as you scratched your cheek nervously.

“How did you get my number?” You ask him and you hear some clinking on the other side, and then a gulp. You licked your lips at the sound and you cursed at the sky for how needy you were being that the sound of ‘gulping’ was making you horny.

“Well, my agent told me you are my editor in chief for that article, so of course I asked for your number so we could stay in touch, you know… just in case.” He was smirking against the phone and you know it. “I never call other people that aren’t acquaintances on my personal phone… But I can make an exception for you, Mousy.”

Oh, he was smooth. He was telling you he was calling you from his personal phone instead of the work related one. Meaning that the only person with access to this phone, was him only, and not his agent. You gripped onto the phone tightly against your ear and you let out a small giggle.

“Is that supposed to impress me Mr. Hargrove? Remember, we work together now.” You explain to him and you hear him laugh on the other side.

“Alright, humor me then, Mousy. When’s the next meeting happening?” You scrunched up your nose in thought and counted the days in your head.

“I believe is next wednesday Mr. Hargrove. Curtis Delore was very interested in your Balenciaga design.” You explain to him and you hear him whistle on the other side.

“Delore, huh. But Wednesday? Don’t you think it’s a little far away?” Oh, things are turning interesting now. You licked the inside of your right cheek, feeling your stomach fill with butterflies at the attention this man was giving you.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I thought I could meet with you tomorrow. Discuss my work, and what we should say to the clients, just so all of our stories match.” Your breath was knocked out of your lungs. He was asking you out, this model was asking you out, on a saturday.

“Oh, we can definitely do that.”

“Great–”

“On monday, at my office.” You reply to him, and on the other side of the phone, Billy Hargrove was stunned. He was rejected. Holy fuck, he was rejected. He should be angry, hang up, because no one belittled him like that. No one.

Yet, you… for whatever reason it is, he couldn’t help it. He was adoring this game of cat and mouse, which he never did, much less for someone like yourself. It’s not that you weren’t beautiful, but he always went for people of his same radius. Meaning actresses, models, singers. Famous people.

None of the relationships Billy had lasted more than two months. The relationships were empty, filled with sex and empty conversations, fake interviews, fake scenarios his agent made him make up and talk about them in a talk show. He never had to flirt more than one night, much less go through the hustle of almost begging for someone’s number. But you were like a drug to him right now, and he wanted more, desired more.

“Ah, so the game is still on, very well.” Your heart was on your throat, and you were about to say goodbye to him but suddenly his voice deepened in your ear and you almost dropped your device to the floor. “Mousy, one of these days you are going to come to me, on your own accord… And I’ll show you just how good I can make you feel.”

Your breathing became heavy as you clenched your legs together. Heat was rushing from your core, going all over your body at his words. You wanted to take it all back, tell him you’ll meet tomorrow, because the tension was too strong right now, and you could barely handle it. You knew that you wouldn’t be able to satisfy yourself tonight, or the day after now. There was no way.

“I–”

“Goodbye Mousy. See you on monday.” And like that, you heard the line click. Your mouth was open, staring at nothing, slowly blinking as you felt the air leaving your mouth but not feeling it really filling up your lungs. After two seconds of processing what happened, you smiled and squealed loudly, doing a little jump in your place as you tightened the phone to your chest.

You were sure he would believe you were rejecting him there, and to be honest, you were unsure if that would have been the right decision to do when he was kind of your employer in this article. But it’s temporary, literally month temporary, so you two wouldn’t be working together for long. You couldn’t help the smile on your face, walking back into the bar and sitting in the booth again, not caring any longer of who was sitting next to you.

“I’m sorry Steve.” You said with a wince as you saw how badly he was glaring at you, your smile dropping immediately at his state. His hair was pushed back, with the wet stains all over his polo shirt.

“Who called for you to react like that?” Steve asked with a sneer as Robin kept wiping his hair away with a tissue, grimacing at the smell of beer in his hair.

“Oh, that was–” And you froze. This wasn’t a hook up from the dating app, nor a stranger you see on the street. He might not even want this to be public, this teasing of yours, or this friendship, or whatever it is. Not even to your own friends. You felt your chest press on you and gulped, giving him a soft smile. “My mom.”

“So you jump like a high school girl when your mom calls you? You must love her very much.” Eddie said next to you, with venom in his tone now. You winced under your breath but kept the smile on your face as you turned to look at him.

“That I do.” You saw his jaw clench and unclench and he was fighting with everything in him to not call you out. But he had to calm down, breathing deeply and giving you a nod, turning to look at Robin. He knows that it wasn’t your fault that she was pushed aside from that project, and he knew you were feeling bad about it. He noticed it when your bottom lip quivered when you said she wasn’t going to participate in it anymore.

But now, you were lying again. So he took a big sip out of his beer, taking it all in one go. He raised his hand up to Jonathan to ask for another one, and when he came to the table, everyone ordered another set of beers, except for you.

“A Strawberry Daiquiri.” You said to Jonathan and he raised his eyebrows up at you with a confused look on his face.

“Not angry anymore? Sitting next to Munson? Really?” Robin was squinting while staring at you, wondering what was going on, but she knew you would tell her sooner or later. Right? You were looking at your phone, saving the newest contact on your list.

‘B. H.’

“Yeah, I’m in a better mood now.”

End of chapter 7

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meet-me-backstage · 9 months

Text

⎈

𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐄𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞 ⎈ 𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 🦇 Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 🦇 You get dragged into the unfathomable events at Starcourt Mall by your hopeless crush on Billy Hargrove and new-found middle-schooler friends. You struggle to cope with the trauma, which gradually costs you your popular cheerleader reputation when you return to high school for senior year. Though this loss first appears to be the end of the world, you learn that there's worse things than levelling down in popularity.

Though even in darkness, there is always a light - for you this is Eddie Munson, who you gain an unlikely friendship in and fall for him in the process.

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 🦇 smoking, mention of and consumption of drugs, horror themes, violence (in the upside down and probs Steve losing another fight (•̀ᴗ•́)و jk jk he's king), mention of and consumption of alcohol, nightmares, mention of and a near death experience, death, bad language, blood, bullying, mention of vomit and vomiting, some domestic (mainly verbal and emotional) abuse(‼️), mention of suicidal thoughts, mention of suicide, mention of self-harm, allusion to eating disorder and smUUT so you have to be 18+ to read this series❗️

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 🦇 4.1K words

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 🦇 bad language, mention of and consumption of alcohol.

𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 - 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠!

⇜ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

🦇 𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟒 🦇

It had been like most days recently, your mom was giving Rebecca a tough time. The last few years of high school hadn't gone to plan for her in the course of your parent's marriage being completely destroyed, which then led to their divorce and your dad to move into a trailer on the ‘shitty’ side of town - it all went downhill in her senior year, your sophomore year.

You didn't need to eavesdrop as you walk past your sister's room to hear that mom was lecturing her about how she needs to work ten times harder this year, just as she'd done every morning since term started.

You could picture it, Rebecca sitting on her bed in her extremely pink room filled with Hawkins High paraphernalia, mom standing over her with daggers in her eyes.

When you ran down the stairs, skipping a few on the way - mom had finished with Rebecca, she must've heard your feet stomping heavily, "No running!" She shouted and you immediately slow yourself and mutter, "Yeah, yeah." It's quiet downstairs, you can imagine dad reading the newspaper at the dining table - you can practically hear him now, ranting about the shortage of pumpkins due to them all rotting at the local pumpkin patch.

Rebecca zooms past you, picking up her lunch in the process before standing by the front door, "We're going to be late, little miss - quick," she cared way more about everything, almost too much and especially today because there is cheerleading practice to go to, you both are already wearing your cheer clothes.

"I'm coming!" You grab your pink lunchbox and skip towards Rebecca.

Not many words were spoken on the drive to school, mainly small talk that Rebecca wasn't entirely cooperating with. You stare out of the window, watching everything fly by until you suddenly thought of a way to at least annoy her into speaking, manipulative, you know.

You always have it with you, a cassette of your favorite album by Black Sabbath... it was one way of keeping Mason with you, in Hawkins.

He introduced you to their music... he'd put this tape in his stereo, you’d bang your heads to it and dance. It was so different to anything else you’d heard before.

He had a wide range of musical knowledge because it was his passion, you admired him for leaving Hawkins early to do what he loved regardless of the consequences... now, mom never mentions his name, it’s basically forbidden, she blames him for the way you turned out because he'd encourage you to be different, to be yourself.

He sends letters every month that mom throws away, but you sneak out of the house through your bedroom window to retrieve the letter from the trash and read them laying on your stomach in bed. He was currently in New York, playing drums for a band called 'Shotguns ‘n’ Studded Leather' with a part-time job at a record store.

Usually thinking of him would make you smile, but you knew that he'd be sad if he saw you abiding to mom's rules and had followed in the footsteps of your sister by joining the cheer team.

Your hands fumble through your pink shoulder bag, trying to find it, you bite your lips together until you find it at the bottom... a smirk pulls at your lips and you look at Rebecca with a cheeky glint in your eyes - she knew you too well because she briefly turns her head, breaking her concentration on the road.

"What are you doing?" She asks, her voice unimpressed. Her eyes travel to your lap, seeing the cassette - she knew what it was because you used to blare it from your bedroom until mom would angrily walk in and turn your boom box off, she confiscated the cassette until you sneakily got it back, "No - no," she blurts but before she can block the cassette slot you’d already slipped it in and started wailing your arms about to the intro, "little miss - not now!"

"What is this that stands before me? Figure in black which points at me. Turn 'round quick and start to run. Find out I'm the chosen one!"

Rebecca lets out a long sigh as you sing to the song, "Can you please turn that creepy shit off!" Her voice is angry and weak as she turns the car left into the parking lot of Hawkins High.

Your mouth forms into an 'o' shape, "First of all, the word you're looking for is masterpiece - not... shit - and two, I can tell you're holding in something, spit it out, Becky," you ramble as she parks the car, she bites her lips together in deep concentration.

With the car now still, Rebecca sighs and falls flush into her seat, she looks ahead of her at the book-wielding students walking into school. A minute passed, you keep staring at her, she was probably hoping that you’d give up waiting for an answer but soon she looks defeated, "Fine. I - got a letter from Alex yesterday inviting me to Connecticut to see him and his uni friends next month."

"So - isn't that good?" You blink.

She groans, "I can't go - I have to practice for a pep rally and I have to study to make sure I get a place at university with Al," you can see her heart breaking more as she utters each word.

"Not even for a few days?" You ask, crossing your fingers, hoping any idea would help.

"I can't - there is no way, as much as I want to and believe me when I say that I was staring at the letter all night trying to think of a way to go," she dramatically points at the dark bags under her sunken, watering eyes.

She reaches into her jacket pocket, retrieving the letter - she holds it out, her grip on the paper tight, "I don't think - that this is going to work and once he realises I can't just visit him for a measly few days out of the year, I'm going to receive another letter - a breakup letter," by the end of her unleashing of thoughts, her voice is breathless and weak... probably also worrying about what mom would think if that did happen.

You were taken aback by her outburst, silent as you drowned in that familiar feeling of guilt, "I'm - I'm sor-."

A loud engine spoke over you, a Chevrolet Camero Z/28, immediately you are distracted by it, looking out of the window as it enters the parking lot... you’d never seen a car of that make before - just another thing Mason had taught you that mom resented. Rebecca looks out of your window, your heads close, watching as a girl with red hair jumped out of the car and skateboarded towards the middle school, ignoring the driver.

You could only see the back of his head, until he turns around - you feel like gasping for air when you first see his face, the curl of hair falling over his forehead.

He didn't notice you and Rebecca gawking from inside the car, but he did notice other girls such as Heather, Vicki, Tina and Carol blatantly staring at him - he walks past and you can’t take your eyes away from his back profile as he makes his way towards the high school... your eyes widen and you turn to Rebecca, she was still looking at him.

You nudge her, "Hey - spare some hot guys for the rest of us, jeez."

The first time your eyes met - you and this boy's, was twenty minutes and twenty-two seconds later. You stood at your locker which was filled with stickers, a photo of you and the rest of the cheerleaders, you and Mason, a photo of Ozzy Osbourne and lastly, a photo of Benjamin Orr, who had been your fantasy ever since you’d seen him on the television, playing live with The Cars on Midnight Special in 1979.

This boy was walking along the corridor with a piece of paper in his hand, clearly looking for his assigned locker. You fiddle with a few books and stop in your tracks to look at him as he searches, you blush at your eyes wandering downwards, but you can’t help it, his ass looks good, especially in that outfit - the double denim. It did something to you.

You are so caught up, figuring out this new... feeling that you could only describe as similar to the first time you saw Benjamin Orr on your television screen. It was like seeing a celebrity in real life, realising that they are actually real people - this boy has that look, that effect. You look at him… he’s looking at - me? He began walking towards you. Am I dreaming? He’s smirking and has an arrogant look about him as he comes closer.

You are shocked, he is stood directly in front of you. You are being extremely obvious about your instant crush on him and are internally hitting yourself for it - Be cool be cool be cool be cool. His blue eyes search yours, his mouth twitches upwards - he leans closer and it makes you blush and look away, other students are gawking, "Hi - sweetheart?"

Your head shoots back round to look at him again, the nickname rolling off of his tongue. I should stop staring at his mouth. He brings his hand up and waves it in front of your face, he chuckles and you giggle like the school girl you are, "Hi - er, yes?" I said be cool, not - whatever this is?!

"So you do talk," you find it difficult to look at his face because he is just too perfect, you start to think stupid things like... what it would be like to just be the necklace clung to his chest? When he realises that you probably won’t respond because you are too busy ogling him he chuckles again, swiping his tongue across his teeth, "Could you, by any chance, point out my locker?"

He knows you are going to say yes, he is already holding up the paper. 212 - is he serious? You think as you peek at the paper, getting closer in proximity to him and quickly noticing the perfume he is wearing, a musky smell - a smell you suddenly want to be in the presence of all the time. Strong, warm, sweet. You even stay in a thinking pose longer than you have to because you already knew where his locker is, "Oh - it's - it's literally right there," You stutter, stumble and then point.

He follows the direction of your pointed finger and pops his tongue against his lips, "Ah - thank you, doll," his eyes look at you for just a second longer than they should have - you feel weak under his stare, especially since he is clearly a senior, slightly older, taller, quite muscly for a seventeen year old.

He begins walking in the direction of his blue locker, leaving you - I wish I'd told him my name, or he'd told me his.

⎈ 🦇 ⎈

Lucky for Rebecca, this boy is in most of her classes - if he did show up. She hasn’t shown any interest in him as she's gotten to know his vibe a little better, all you do is ask about him ever since your first and only encounter.

His name is Billy, Billy Hargrove - his favorite 'lesson' is lunch, he plays basketball and is very keen to show off his skills, wanting to become captain of the team over Steve Harrington, who'd filled in after Alex graduated. They are the facts you’d gathered from Rebecca - the more lessons she had with him, the more she'd tell you that he is a 'real pervy son of a bitch', but you didn’t listen and resort to the option of 'she's just overreacting and I'm sure he's sweet' - it definitely doesn’t stop you from observing him shyly from your locker because you never saw him anywhere else.

That is until you see him during a practice for the pep rally that Rebecca had been talking about nonstop - he is in the sports hall playing basketball with the rest of the team, but a majority of the time it is him and Steve that has the ball, as if it were just a one on one game against each other. It’s like two lions fighting for the place of leader of the pack and Steve is struggling to keep up with Billy.

You find it extremely difficult to dance with Billy in the same room, he is shirtless and looks so good - and the passion, how much he clearly wants to be captain, he loves basketball just as much as you do. You continue to stare, your mouth agape... you were desperate to talk to him, but he hadn't even looked at you once since his first day at Hawkins High.

Rebecca's voice is muffled until she starts tapping your shoulder, "little miss, will you focus?"

Her voice seems to grab Billy's attention immediately - he looks straight at her, allowing Steve to swoop in and get the ball, dribbling it away.

Coach Morrison,who watches over both the Basketball team and the cheerleaders, notices that Rebecca is whispering to you, even though she was just shaking you out of your 'Billy Hargrove spell’, "Rebecca - little miss - is whatever you're whispering about more important than the rally coming up?"

The coach's voice now grabs Billy's attention and he is looking Rebecca's way again... then at you - he smirks, the first bit of attention you’d received since you crossed paths and it sends your stomach soaring with butterflies. It took a lot for you to look away from him, to look at the coach, your mouth is open and unable to speak.

Rebecca takes matters into her own hands and saves us, "No - nothing could be more important than the rally, coach."

He nods, "That's what I thought. Back to it, girls!"

You roll your eyes and Chrissy, who is stood on the other side of you, giggles - she'd never changed in all the time you knew her and it made you smile, obliged to focus on the cheer routine, though you do still manage to steal a few glances of Billy in the process.

⎈ 🦇 ⎈

Tonight is the first high school party you ever attended and it’s on Halloween - you’d been begging for Rebecca to let you go with her after you received an invite and finally, after days of nagging, Rebecca caved, agreeing to let you tag along.

You dress up as a cat, wearing a headband with pointed ears, mostly black with some showstopper black and white striped tights - you were already shaking with nerves at the thought of your mom's reaction.

You left at about 9:30pm after your mom begrudgingly called out for you to be back home by midnight and insisted on you being with Rebecca at all times.

There are Halloween decorations everywhere, fake spiderwebs on the hedges leading to Tina's front door. Music is blasting, sounding muffled from outside. Sudden nerves, but also adrenaline ran through you - Rebecca knocks on the door before fiddling with her skeleton costume, "Stay by my side, if things get too much then tell me - I'll walk you home."

"Okay," you hum, pulling at the seams of the black jacket you’re wearing.

Tina opens the door, dressed as a vampire - fangs showing when she smiles at the sight of Rebecca at her door, she wore a long cape with fishnet tights peeking through a slit in the cape. A slurred giggle escapes her lips when she looks at you, "Aren't you guys gonna say trick or treat?"

You glance at Rebecca before nervously giggling, "Trick or treat!" You both say in unison.

"If I'd have known you were actually coming, little miss - I would've stocked up on candy. I'm afraid the only treats in here are in the form of liquid," She explains, smirking at you, "Come in, if you're bold enough," she ushers you and Rebecca in, everyone you walk past looks at you, including Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler - who are dressed as Joel and Lana from Risky Business, a film you’d watched with Rebecca to feed her Tom Cruise obsession, "There's drink here there and everywhere really but the real stuff is on the counter, keg is out back - have yourself a ghoul, guys!"

The place is cramped with seniors - no one a junior like you, a lot of faces you recognise are either from cheerleading, or because of Rebecca as she knew them from class. Theoretically, as a repeat senior, she is the eldest at the party and is still trying desperately to fit in.

Billy made it - you’d already made that assumption, it was the main reason why you wanted to come, the possibility of him being here. You pour yourself a concoction of drink that is in what looks like a big fish bowl, Rebecca's head peeks over your shoulder before she pours herself a larger cup. The drink has fog looming over it and the smell is intoxicating in itself - you quickly needed fresh air, and that is where you spot him.

He is outside, upside down, drinking from the keg stand.

Rebecca follows you outside, she crosses her arms, refusing to look at him - you couldn't keep my eyes off of him, even when he spat the drink out and up into the air like a whale, stumbling over his feet as he walks towards the back door that you’d just used to come out here.

He looks at you first, then at Rebecca, who is still refusing to give him attention - you figure that they'd interacted before, and not positively - not on your sister's part anyway. A smirk fixes itself on his lips when he realises that she isn’t falling under the spell of his hypnotising eyes.

You blush, giving him the most timid smile as he turns his attention back to you, still smirking. Even as he is being wrapped with toilet paper as he walks inside you felt my heart pound, flutters everywhere.

"Stay right here, little miss - 'm gonna get another drink, okay?" Rebecca smiles sweetly, uncrossing her arms when Billy is out of sight.

"Sure thing," You shrug and stay put, sitting yourself down on a spare seat. You wonder why Rebecca hates Billy so much, then shrug again - it probably doesn't mean anything.

The drink sinks into your brain as you sit watching teens dancing, laughing, playing beer pong. For minutes, longer than it should've taken for Rebecca to come back, you stayed exactly where she told you to... you didn't want to ruin her fun so you just continued to sip on your drink until it is finished.

Billy strides out of the house like a shot, determination on his face and he was walking towards you with that same damn smile that he'd given you at the lockers. Rebecca's name flew out of your mind and you are back to mush as he holds his hand out for you to take. You look up at him shyly, but take his hand anyway, both yours and his hands are clammy with sweat or alcohol, sticking together, "T-to what - do I owe this - pleasure?"

"You know, you and your sister have got the same goddamn tongue underneath the princess exterior," he drawls as he pulls you onto your feet. The drink you had reduced the amount of sarcasm and wit you usually did have when sober, especially since you hadn't had alcohol before. All you can do is laugh, gently shoving his shoulder with your spare hand - he smiles smugly, "It's cute, I admit."

A few shaky breaths came out instead of words. Does he always have to smile like that?

"How about you try the keg, princess?" The nickname alone mixed with the drink, you still couldn't speak. You look at the free keg behind him, "You could join keg royalty - be my queen."

His queen? How can I say no to that?

He stands closer, lifting you up, his head is level with your hip. The side of his face is pressed against your bare skin because your jacket and t-shirt had ridden up above your stomach, "You're a natural," he squeezes, arms wrapped completely around you, "hold onto - the keg, doll," his voice is slightly strained, his muscles flexing impressively, "I've got you."

You hear him laughing while you drank from the keg. Other teens, a mix of ghouls, ghosts, vampires, Michael Myers', cats, clowns and Ace Frehley from Kiss start to gather around you and Billy, lifting their glasses and spilling alcohol everywhere. They all cheer you on, chanting 'Chug! Chug! Chug!' It made you feel good that not only are you impressing Billy, you were impressing everyone.

"Put her down you asshole - she's never been to a party like this before!" You hear Rebecca shout, she must've heard the 'chug!' commotion from inside.

"And she's still more fun than you, Becky," Billy responds, winking at her before carefully putting you down - you continue to hold onto him even though both your feet are on the ground, you didn’t want to let go. He holds onto your hand tightly and lifts it up into the air in victory, "Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you - the keg queen!"

A wide grin finds its way onto your face as you look at everyone, then up at Billy, who is grinning down at you.

Everyone cheers again, but not your sister.

Rebecca grabs your hand, "It's time to go home," she mumbles and pulls you out of Billy's grasp, his eyes are on Rebecca as you stumble away, out of the side exit of Tina's home.

You rant at Rebecca all the way home while she gives you the silent treatment, "I'm just fitting in, Becky - isn't that what you wanted and now? Now that I'm in the cheer team, I'm friends - with your friends, I like a b-boy - that's in the basketball team - so much and - I'm his keg queen!" You laugh before quickly getting angry again, "You don't like it! And I'm happy - it's what you wanted before and now this is what I want too - I like being popular and - I want it to be - like this for me until I leave a - first time senior!"

Your words are evidently annoying Rebecca, I knew it - your drunk state assumed it was jealousy about everything going well for you and she couldn't be happy because she wasn't having the best end to her high school experience. She just stares ahead, "Just - pull yourself together. Mom cannot see you acting like this, she'll kill me and then she'll kill you."

You know that she is right about that - so you decide to be silent for the rest of the night.

⇝ 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑻𝒘𝒐 ⎈ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ↯

𝑭𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝑯𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑻𝒐 𝑬𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒚

𝑬𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒆 𝑴𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒐𝒏

@introvertedmouse @munsonology @fastnights @kathieycarrerarosshley @marjoriea13 @goldengunspinkrosses-blog @lolalanaie @neteyamsluvts

⎈

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