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brbsoulnomming · 8 months

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Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 8

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The next time he's got something of a breather, they're all building weapons in a field gathered around a stolen camper. He breaks from wrestling around with Dustin, comes to plop down next to Robin in the spot Steve recently vacated.

"Hey, uh. So how often does this happen?"

Robin shoots him a look, one eyebrow raised as if to say there's a whole lot of 'this' happening right now, dumbass, what part of it do you mean?

Eddie jerks his chin up, head swinging in the direction towards Steve and Dustin. "He just got munched on by a swarm of goddamn demon bats, and now he's out there prancing around and no one's looking at him like he should maybe sit down a minute? Like no one cares, this is just business as usual."

Her face crumbles, and Eddie feels like an asshole. He didn't mean to imply that she didn't care about her best friend being bat food.

"Every time," she says softly, before he can try to backtrack.

"Oh." What the fuck is he supposed to say to that? "Right, Jesus. Well. Harrington's a big boy, I'm sure he-"

"No," Robin cuts him off. "You don't understand. He does this every time, it's - you remember last year, when Steve and Billy Hargrove showed up to school looking like shit? Hargrove tried to go after Lucas, and Steve pulled him off. They beat the crap out of each other. Hargrove hit him over the head with a plate, so hard that Steve blacked out. And the little shits - they put him in a car and took him with them to go to these tunnels to the Upside Down, because we couldn't just leave him in the house, Robin, what if he choked on his own blood or Billy woke up first?"

She does a decent impression of Henderson, there, higher pitched and shrieking, but Eddie is too busy being more and more horrified to comment on it.

"Steve woke up, and what does that dipshit do? Grabs his fucking nailbat, makes sure he's the first one down there and the last one out. They see Steve, and they see-"

"A hero," Eddie says quietly.

"They see someone invincible," she replies, even quieter. "So it's not real when he gets hurt, you know, because they see him take hit after hit after hit for us, and he just comes back up swinging, just keeps going to make sure every one of us is safe."

Eddie thumbs over the spot on his hip, where the first I don't need to go to the hospital had appeared, and feels - he doesn't know. "For us?"

Robin pushes the heel of her hand into her eyes, rubbing away what he's going to pretend aren't tears. "Fourth of July, Starcourt Mall. We got captured. He made sure their attention was on him. They tortured him, barely touched me."

She wraps her arms around her stomach, hugging herself with her palms pressed against her sides, fingers splayed wide like she's holding something close. There's more there, it's obvious, but, well. It's just as obvious that she doesn't want to talk about it.

"Then he crashed a stolen car into Billy Hargrove's Camaro with me riding shotgun."

Eddie gapes at her. "What the fuck?"

She raises and lowers one shoulder. "Billy was going to hit Nancy and Jonathan and the kids. I mean, it might have been the drugs, but I was on board with the plan."

His mouth opens, then closes again. "This is so fucked. You know this, right? Tell me you know this."

Robin makes a face. "I wish I could say that and know for sure that it wouldn't be a lie. I mean, I've only been in on this for like nine months, but it kind of sucks you in."

"Jesus fucking Christ."

Her expression turns a little wry, a little wait and see, you're one of us now. "Yeah."

Eddie doesn't know what the fuck to do with that, so he settles for watching Steve. Steve, who was captured at Starcourt mall, who told Eddie that he'd been captured by Russians who didn't like his attitude and apparently wasn't lying, whose experience fits the words that are still etched on Eddie's skin. "….he got tortured?"

Robin doesn't say anything, so after a few moments, he turns to look at her again.

"What's that face you're doing?" she asks, which is rich when she's the one looking at him like he's a puzzle she's trying to figure out.

"It's just-" He gestures at Steve in a motion he hopes conveys the sheer fucked up everything. "He was tortured!"

Steve Harrington was tortured, and then he lied and said the others were hurt more, and Eddie didn't want him to be his soulmate because he was one of the popular crowd.

Robin's still staring at him, her brow furrowed, when Dustin's shriek echoes across the clearing.

"This is a stupid idea, Steve!"

Everyone turns to look at them, and Steve throws up his hands. "I would have thought you of all people would agree with me!"

"What, agree with you going to get yourself killed, and all of us with you?" Dustin demands.

Steve rolls his eyes. "A little credit, please? I survived demogorgons and demodogs and Russians and the Mind Flayer and, uh." He pauses. "What're we calling the creepy bats?"

"Demobats," Dustin says with authority, like Steve Harrington talking about demogorgons and the Mind Flayer is nothing out of the ordinary, even though it's definitely messing with Eddie's head.

"Right, demobats," Steve agrees, as though they weren't in the middle of a screaming argument, then promptly picks it back up. "I think I can manage an angry jock!"

Dustin snorts. "Right, like you managed Billy Hargrove?"

The silence that follows that is deafening.

"Dude," Steve says softly. "Too far."

Dustin's expression drops, looking somewhere between chastised and extremely guilty. "You're right, I know, I'm sorry."

Steve jerks his head towards Max and Lucas, an almost imperceptible movement, if Eddie wasn't watching him so closely.

Dustin looks over to them, clearing his throat. "I'm sorry," he calls. "Anger over Steve's stupidity blinded me and made me just as stupid."

There's a pause, then Lucas calls, "Even stupider!"

"Even stupider!" Dustin agrees.

Max rolls her eyes at them, but she doesn't look as stricken anymore. "You're both dumbasses."

Steve's watching her when Eddie turns back to look at him, but he must think that's as good as it's gonna get, because he focuses his attention back on Dustin.

"Anyway, Nancy agrees with me, so we're doing it. This was just a courtesy heads-up."

Eddie glances over at Robin, relieved when he sees her looking over at him in the same way. They share a look that he's pretty sure is mutual exasperation over whatever Steve's thought of that is apparently going to get him killed.

"Hey Dingus!" she calls. "You want to share that with the rest of the class?"

"We're going to talk to Carver and the team," Steve replies. "We can't fight Vecna and avoid them at the same time, not with how hard they're gunning for Eddie."

"What?" Eddie demands, scrambling to push himself to his feet. "No no no no, come on, Wheeler, I thought you agreed that was a terrible idea!"

"That was before we ran into them at War Zone," Nancy says. "Steve's right - Jason isn't going to stop. We have to get him and the others off our backs, or they could ruin the whole thing."

Reluctantly, they all gather in the camper again.

"All right," Steve says, clapping his hands like they're all in kindergarten and ignoring the unimpressed looks everyone gives him. "Game plan."

"We divide into two teams," Nancy picks up, just as serious business as she was when they were plotting to take down Vecna. "Team one stays with the RV and keeps making weapons. Team two heads into town to run surveillance-"

Erica gives an unimpressed huff. "Run surveillance, who needs to run surveillance when you've got me? I was at his last little inspirational production, and I know there's supposed to be another town hall meeting tonight. Two guesses who's going to be there to try to run it again?"

Steve and Nancy exchange a glance.

"All right, team two heads into town to make sure we're at the meeting before Jason gets there," Nancy says.

"So who's on team two?" Dustin asks.

"Me and Nance," Steve replies immediately.

"And me," Erica chimes in.

"And Erica," Steve agrees without hesitation, which makes Nancy give him a funny look.

"Steve is my bitch after our last 'operation' together, and he knows it," Erica says, complete with air quotes around operation.

Steve just shrugs, looking resigned, and - yeah, okay, with what Eddie knows of Erica Sinclair, he'd probably do the same thing.

"No one listened to me last time," Erica adds. "I'm gonna make damn sure they regret that."

Nancy raises her eyebrows, but doesn't protest.

"That's it," Steve finishes. "Maybe Robin or Lucas, if you one of you wants to, but no one else. Sorry guys, but it has to be people that no one would believe would be friends with Eddie."

Which - ouch, but yeah, Steve has a point. Still-

"Buckley?" he asks. Lucas he gets, because Jason and the others must have trusted him to let him in on the initial freak hunt, but Robin?

Robin shoots him a withering glare. "I've played soccer, and I'm in the marching band, did you forget? The band that goes to every one of the basketball team's games and plays for them, the band that you usually disparage in the same breath as the jocks when you do your little table speeches? You think I haven't commiserated with some of the soccer players and cheerleaders about perfectly good lunches crunched under your heels?"

Eddie - doesn't actually know what to say to that. A week ago, he would have jumped all over her for conforming to the school's expectations, pumping up the jocks and riding the coattails of popularity, but - but this isn't a week ago. Monsters are real, people are dying, Eddie's probably going to die, and these people are the only ones who know anything about how to stop it.

This is the party, and he's just been an NPC this whole time.

"Oh," is what he settles on, hating how stupid it makes him sound.

"Hey, those table speeches were cool!" Dustin protests.

"They were obnoxious," Robin says with a sniff.

"They're Eddie," Steve says, and Eddie turns sharply to look at him.

He's rolling his eyes, and he sounds just as fond as he does exasperated, the same tone he's heard him use on the kids when they're being little assholes, and it twists something in his gut at the same time as he makes him want to hide behind his hair.

"It's not a bad thing to rail against primitive social constructs such as popularity," Steve adds.

Eddie - stares at him, his brain screeching to a halt as he attempts to process what Steve Harrington just said to him.

He manages to catch Nancy looking at Steve in a way that's a little bit impressed before Dustin is shouting again.

"Hey!" he yells, slapping Steve on the arm. "I said that to you last summer, you can't just take credit for that!"

Steve slaps at Dustin's hand. "You said I needed to move on from them, you didn't say anything about railing against them!"

"It's the same thing!" Dustin protests.

"Can't you just be happy I listened to you?" Steve asks.

"Oh, for once." Dustin rolls his eyes. "When are you going to realize all of my advice is genius?"

"Again with the ego, man, come on-"

"Boys!" Robin shouts.

The two of them startle, looking over at her with twin expressions somewhere between sheepish and irritated.

Eddie valiantly rallies his brain back into working order. "I still say this plan is stupid. What do you really think's going to happen when you publicly align yourselves with the freak?"

"Oh, we're not going to publicly align ourselves with you," Nancy says.

"We're going to publicly tear Jason down," Steve adds, and there's a gleam in his eye that Eddie hasn't seen since he stalked the halls of Hawkins High with Hagan and Perkins at his side.

So the party splits again.

Nancy, Steve, and Erica head out on their side quest. Robin does end up going with them, though she makes it very clear that she's just there to sit in the back with her hand on the walkie in case things go to shit. Eddie stays with Dustin and Lucas and Max, and tries not to feel -

Well. There's a whole lot he wants to feel. Anger and bitter resentment and fear and self-hatred and outwardly directed hatred and a sick hope and confusing fondness, all tangled up into a messy ball that seem to cancel each other out.

So mostly he tries not to feel exhausted, and tries not to let it bounce too hard the other way into mania. It mostly ends up in him alternating between goofing around with Dustin and obsessively checking over his handy work on his shield.

Eventually, after far too long, the wandering half of the party returns - and even without saying anything, it's clear it was a success. The four of them are so damn pleased at something going right that it seems to be catching, both Dustin and Lucas crowding in and demanding details.

"Jason's a suspect now!" Robin says gleefully.

"He's a person of interest," Nancy corrects. "But it's enough that I don't think he's going to be rallying many people to his cause."

Eddie stares at them, aware his mouth is open and he probably looks flabbergasted, but he can't seem to make himself do anything about that.

"How did you guys manage that?" Dustin asks.

"I told you they were going to regret not listening to me," Erica says, tone just as smug as her face.

"Excuse me," Steve chimes in, in what's clearly supposed to be an imitation of Erica's voice. "But is anyone else going to get to speak at this one, or are the police and the mayor going to let a seventeen year old boy lead a town hall meeting again?"

"Again?" Robin straightens up, jumping on that with all of Nancy's fierce tenacity. "Can you clarify that for the press, Chief Powell? Is Jason Carver involved with the investigation into these murders?"

Nancy bats her eyelashes, lowering her voice and looking as dumb and concerned as possible. "Wait, wasn't Jason dating Chrissy? Now, I may have missed the last meeting, but I've watched every episode of Magnum PI and Miami Vice. Why is the victim's boyfriend leading the investigation? Isn't that, uh, a confliction of interests?"

"Watch what you're implying, Harrington," Erica growls out.

Steve raises both eyebrows. "You about busted in my door looking for my brother and his dumb friends. I just think we all have a right to be concerned about someone who shows violent tendencies to a child being involved like this."

"I saw what that freak did to Patrick!" Erica says, making her voice high and whiny.

"You were at the scene of the third crime?" Robin jumps in, still clearly Nancy. "Was anyone else there who can confirm your version of the events? No? So we only have your report of who was there?"

"Patrick McKinney?" Nancy asks, wrinkling her nose. "Bummer, man, the way people close to you keep dying. Glad I graduated already."

"I remember him when you came to my house," Steve as Erica says. "Wasn't he the one who said you guys were taking things too far? What a coincidence!"

Robin tilts her head, looking like she's trying to remember something. "Didn't Fred write that article about the basketball team and hazing rituals? If I remember right, Jason Carver was the only one he mentioned by name."

Nancy smiles, and it looks - strange, on her face. All haughty and smug, with too many teeth. "Hazing rituals, is that what's going on here? Couldn't hack it with the legacy Billy and I left for you, huh, Carver? Who's next? You're looking for Lucas Sinclair, right, you pissed that he's the one that scored the winning shot when you missed it?"

"And then Tiffany Callahan shouts Chrissy wasn't happy!, and half of the cheerleaders are talking about how she was upset and kept saying she didn't want to talk to Jason about it," Robin says. "Jason looked like he was a second away from lunging over and strangling her, and Tiffany's soulmate got up in his face."

They keep going, tossing pleased little comments back and forth, roping Lucas and Dustin and even Max in, crowing about how Eddie's out of the limelight and -

Part of him wants to stay, well aware that he's literally watching a campaign unfold in real life in front of him, that he could let himself be folded into this strange little party and bask in their jubilance at a quest completed. But the other part of him is just going too much, it's too much.

He steps back, quiet and unseen, until he can duck around the other side of the camper and crouch down. His forearms brace against his knees, head hanging down between them, as he tries to just - to just breathe, not let himself vibrate out of his own skin.

This is turning into the slowest of slowburns omg, but they will get there eventually!

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Part 9

Taglist (hopefully I got everyone, and always happy to add more!): @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey @paperbackribs @goodolefashionedloverboi @evix-syne666 @raisedbylibrarians @stxrcrossed186 @nightmareglitter @greekgeek24 @starman-jpg @crazyhatlady86 @affablevixen @imfinereallyy @manda-panda-monium @deleataecount @prideandsensibility @chaoticvictorianspirit @maydillydally @disrespectedgoatman @scarlet-malfoy @i-less-than-three-you @hbyrde36 @hallucinatedjosten @dragonsandgayships @arepaconchocolate @g4ys0n @novelnovella @bisexualdisastersworld @ghostofyourvampiregf @scarletyeager @pettrichore @nerd-and-nervous @hiimlevi @queenie-ofthe-void @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #erica sinclair #dustin henderson #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #steddie soulmates au #platonic soulmates stobin #soulmates au

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toomanyfandomsimfanvergent · 1 year

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Billy Hargrove x Reader

What happens when you move to indiana to reunite with your lover?

You wave to the car as it drives away. Neil and Susan forced Billy (and Max) to move to a small town. In fucking Indiana.

You force down the tears. He promised to call every time he could. A long distance relationship would be hard, but worth it.

After two years of dating, and a life time of friendship, you two were inseparable. Your mom claimed she didn't believe you two could survive more than an hour apart. Her logic was being tested.

You still remember the night Billy came to your window. When you opened it, you thought Neil had hit him. His eyes were puffy and red rimmed.

He told you the news that shook your world. He was moving over 2,000 miles away.

You had both laid I'm bed while holding each other. The only thing to be heard was promises of staying together and sniffles.

______________________________________________

It's been a month since Billy moved. Your mom gave you sympathetic glances every day.

You no longer had a will to live. The (almost) nightly phone calls weren't enough. They never would be. He tried to call you anytime Neil wasn't home. Even if it was just to leave a message.

"You're a zombie sweets," your mom tells you as you grab a candy bar for breakfast. You give her a questioning look as she hands you a paper.

"What's this?" You ask as you look at a brochure for a house in Hawkins, Indiana. Wait, Hawkins?

"I sold the house," your mom blurts. You toss your makeshift breakfast on the counter and give her a big hug.

"Thank you," you say as you squeeze her. Your mom couldn't stand the way you acted without him.

"I couldn't see you live like the undead another day," she states and you scoff. It was true though.

Without Billy, weekends were no longer spent surfing. They were spent watching sad movies while crying.

You didn't take turns driving the other to school, you personally liked your car more, it was just an old corvet your m bought for your 16th.

And, instead of speeding to school, you drove at a painfully slow pace. No longer caring; about anything.

______________________________________________

It had been two weeks since the news if moving had been delivered. Now, as you drive up to the house in your cherry red car, you can't wait.

Billy had been told that you were spending the weekend at a friend's, you hadn't told him that you were moving.

It had been hectic getting moved in. Your mom had sent you to pick up something to make dinner. You had ran into Max. She had agreed to keep the secret, claiming it was for you not Billy.

Your mom had been able to transfer to the local PD. Thank God, her job had been boring since Neil left. None of the abuse calls were going to follow up. Neil was good friends with the chief in Cali.

It had only gotten him so far considering he had been locked up a few weeks prior. Must suck to get arrested for doing something you knew was illegal.

You grab the grocery bags and walk in the house. You couldn't help the smile on your face. Tomorrow was Monday. The first day of your new school. And billy. Definitely only excited for him.

______________________________________________

You pull into school and he doesn't notice you. You park your car in the back next to some other brightly colored cars.

You see the light blue Camaro and someone with dirty blonde curls with a cig. You slowly walk up and clear your thoat.

"What the hell do,-" he cuts himself off mid sentence when he sees you. He can't believe his eyes. You should be over 2,000 miles away.

He tosses the cig and picks you up for a hug before releasing you and pressing a kiss yo your lips. He pulls away and takes your face in his hands.

"You should be on the east coast," he almost questions. So, you give him the spill. His only response is to hug you again.

"Never leave again," he whispers into your hair. Billy doesn't care that half the school is watching him. He doesn't care that he know has his reputation ruined for being soft.

He only cares about you. And your car. But mainly you.

#billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove x sister!reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove #billy hargove x reader #Billy is soft #soft billy hargrove

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thissortofsorcery · 1 year

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Harringrove, 2k words. Established relationship, light angst, fluff.

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Billy doesn’t even remember what Steve said that pushed him over the edge. Between one moment and the next, Billy was yelling,

"Goddamnit, Harrington, if I wanted someone to hold my fucking hand, I wouldn't go to you!"

Steve just sat there, gaping at him, both hands still on the steering wheel. Billy thanked god they were in Steve's car and already parked, because he couldn't take the hurt look that came over Steve's eyes, so he just climbed out of the car and slammed the door before stalking off.

The half hour it took to walk back to his house and shut himself in his room had calmed him down enough for him to see he'd overreacted.

Billy had lost it on Steve again. He'd been trying so fucking hard, these pasts few months, to be someone better, to be someone Steve could like, but he was still just a piece of shit. He could pretend all he liked, could work his charm on Steve until he was melting in his hands, but in the end Billy would always let him down. He couldn't get rid of this thing in him, this- This anger. It stained his insides like tar, it clung to everything he did, made everything too sharp, too toxic.

Just the thought of it is enough to make it rise in the back of his throat again, and he sends a can of hairspray flying with a slap. It hits the wall with a bang and falls, joining the broken mixtapes on the floor. The ones Neil broke, as a lesson. The reason he was in such a foul mood in the first place.

Steve could be an asshole, but he's not the kind of asshole Billy is.

This is just an example of why this thing between them was doomed to fail. Billy was always going to screw it up. And from the look on Steve's face, he's not going to forgive Billy for this. Whatever they had was too new, too fragile.

And now it was over.

The next day is Saturday, and Billy starts his afternoon by chainsmoking at the quarry.

He couldn't stand staying at the house, with everyone else out and the silence closing up on him. Thinking that he should be out too.

He's supposed to be at Steve's.

So he'd just grabbed his keys and driven to the first place that came to mind. Billy and Steve never really came here to hang out, so it's not like anything here is making him think of Steve. But Steve's always on his mind, anyway.

Steve's dumb preppy hair, his pastel polos, the width of his shoulders, the way they feel under his hands. His ass in gym shorts. That one mole on the side of his tit that drives Billy insane. How his smile pulls a little to the left when he means it.

There's the rumble of a car approaching, and Billy pushes off the Camaro, assumes it's a cop. He tosses his cigarette to the ground and grinds it under his boot. He's halfway to snarking something about how he didn't know it was illegal to smoke there, when a voice interrupts him:

"Thought you were gonna come over today, man."

Steve's standing beside his Beamer, hands in his jacket pockets. Billy's mouth closes with a clack, and he stares. He sure as hell didn't expect Steve to show up here.

"I was looking all over town for you. I drove past your house and your car wasn't there," Steve keeps his distance, but he's looking at Billy so intensely he might as well be right up against him.

"I've just been here," is all Billy can say.

"Yeah," Steve agrees, but his tone isn't mocking. "Why didn't you come over?"

Billy doesn't know what to say. Can't say the truth, can't say thought you wouldn't want me to.

"What do you want, man?" Is what he says instead. Billy breathes in clean air and wishes it was smoke.

"What do I- Billy," Steve takes a couple steps closer. Stops.

Billy’s body wants to sway closer to him, wants to close what’s left of the distance between them. But Steve’s frowning with that little dimple in the middle of his forehead, the one that means he’s sad, and Billy’s the one that put it there.

He leans back on the hood of the Camaro, back to Steve, and lights another cigarette.

“You’re just not gonna say anything?” Steve asks, and his voice is finally rising above a dejected mumble.

“Don’t know what you want me to say,” Billy doesn’t look at Steve. He takes a drag of his cigarette, pretends his hand isn’t shaking.

“I want-” Billy hears Steve release a shaky breath, and he just knows he’s running a hand through his hair. “Would you just look at me!”

When Steve’s voice breaks, Billy does too. Steve’s hair is ruffled, like he thought, and the dimple in his forehead is gone. He’s just plain pissed now.

“Where did you go yesterday?” The calm in Steve’s voice doesn’t match his frown. Billy doesn’t trust it.

“I went home,” Billy answers, wary. Suddenly, he feels chilled in only his jean jacket.

“You walked home.”

Why the fuck is Steve just repeating what he’s saying.

“Yeah, Steve, I just walked home. What is it to you?” Billy snaps. He’s starting to feel it, the burning in his chest, in his throat.

“I don’t know, Billy!” Steve snaps right back. He’s the one that closes the distance. From the corner of his eyes, Billy tracks Steve’s hands moving as he speaks. “You just went off on me yesterday and ditched me, and you didn’t show up today, what am I supposed to think?!”

There’s a sound in his mind like a crack, a log giving in to fireplace flame, a burst of sparks, and Billy imagines smoke coming out of his mouth like he just inhaled an entire cigarette.

“How will I know what you think, Steve? I'm not a fucking mind reader!” Billy snaps.

“Maybe if we talked to each other once in a while!” Steve yells back. “I try to get you to talk to me and I might as well be trying to pull out your teeth!”

“Doesn’t that tell you something? Why don’t you back the fuck off?!” Billy’s voice rises above Steve’s, hoarser, meaner. Just a little more desperate.

“Because you never tell me anything about how you feel, and it drives me up the fucking wall!”

“If you’re so pissed, then why the fuck did you even come here?” Billy’s voice echoes in the absence of Steve’s answer. He blinks at Billy, face blank.

They stare at each other for what feels like the entire afternoon, breathing hard. When Steve speaks, Billy jolts at the thought that the quarry is just as bright as it’s been the last fifteen minutes.

“Fuck. Fuck- I’m sorry,” Steve says, voice shaking, and rubs both hands over his face. “I didn’t mean to pick a fight. I’m not pissed at you. I’m sorry.”

It’s enough to make Billy take a full step back. The roaring fire in his chest goes out in a single gust of wind, leaving him chilled.

“Why are you apologizing,” His voice comes out flat. This isn't on Steve.

“I lost my shit at you, and that’s not-” Steve takes another deep, shaky breath, reaches a hand out to Billy, painfully slowly. “I’m not pissed at you, I was worried.”

“Worried about what.”

Steve’s hand finally touches Billy’s. His fingers are warm around Billy’s palm, they always are, and Steve just. Holds his hand.

“You were acting weird yesterday, when I picked you up,” Steve steps closer, bends their heads together so they only need low voices to hear each other. “At the diner, too. Then you snapped in the car, and I thought- something happened, right? With your dad?”

Billy can’t look at Steve, so he just stares at their hands, together. Nods.

“He didn’t- He just broke a bunch of my tapes. Got the ones you gave me, so.” It wasn’t that bad, considering. Billy’d had a lot worse. He should have just been happy he’s been able to still get out of the house. But the sight of Steve’s mixtapes in pieces on the floor had made his stomach turn.

When Steve sighs, his breath is warm on Billy’s face. He doesn’t say he’s sorry, doesn’t say he’ll make Billy new ones. He knows that’s not the point. He squeezes Billy’s hand instead.

Sometimes it feels like Billy’s living in a world of fog and Steve’s the only solid thing he’s got to hold on to.

He looks up, “I didn’t mean what I said yesterday. In the car.”

He has to say that, at least. If there’s anyone in the world Billy would trust with his shit, it’s Steve, even if he doesn’t deserve it.

“I know that,” Steve says, like he never doubted it. “I know you.”

Billy’s breath hitches, and his eyes burn. His other hand reaches for Steve, grasps at his hip, pulls him close.

“Billy,” Steve starts, “you thought I was pissed at you.”

Billy gives him a look, “You were yelling at me.”

“Yeah,” Steve huffs out that self deprecating laugh Billy hates. “But you said, ‘why did I even come here’. You thought I got pissed yesterday? Is that why you didn’t come over?”

Billy hesitates, chews on the inside of his lip. Looks down at their hands again.

“I lost it at you in the car.”

“And I lost it at you just now,” Steve shoots back.

“Yeah, but I keep doing it. I can’t stop.” Billy grinds out, voice rising again. Steve doesn’t understand. It’s not the same. Steve apologized but he wasn't the one at fault.

He makes to step back from Steve, and Steve lets him go, but not far.

“I keep- I just get so-” Billy can’t come up with the words, so his breath leaves him shakily, between his teeth. “And one day you won’t-”

Billy’s voice cracks, and he shakes his hand free to cover his face, but Steve’s hands get there first, wiping his thumbs over his cheeks, taking away the wetness he didn’t realize was there. Billy clings to his bony wrists, instead.

“Billy,” Steve says, barely a whisper. “You’re not gonna lose me because you get angry sometimes. Okay?”

Steve knocks his forehead against Billy’s, gently. Rests it there.

Billy gives a barely there nod.

“I’m serious,” Steve says. “You’re allowed to get angry, especially if I’m being a dick. You’re not doing anything wrong,” He insists. “I just blew up at you and you forgave me just like that.”

Billy shakes his head, “It’s not the same thing.”

“Kind of is, though, man,” Steve insists. “I told you, I know you. You’re an asshole, but you’re not cruel,” He laughs softly, smile lopsided. “I should know, I’m an asshole too.”

Steve’s eyes are bright in the afternoon sun. There’s nothing clouding them, no frown. No dimple on his forehead. Then he says,

“I’m not just gonna give up on you,” and Billy has to close his eyes.

Steve’s nose nudges his own and they just. Breathe together.

Billy feels his way to Steve’s mouth by sucking tiny kisses from his cheek, to the corner of his mouth, to Steve’s smiling lips, and Steve kisses back with his entire body, settling into Billy from chest to thighs, the toes of his sneakers bumping into Billy’s boots.

Billy digs his fingers into Steve’s hips, sighs into his mouth when Steve cradles his jaw into his large hands, buries his fingers into the hair curling behind Billy’s ears. A tingle goes down Billy’s spine, and he bites at Steve's lips until he can press in, in, like he can crawl inside and make a home there. His fingers find his way under Steve’s shirt, feeling around for skin until they splay over his lower back, pulling him impossibly closer.

Steve is warm everywhere, where their hips and their chests touch, where his fingers dig into Billy’s scalp, where Steve’s lips wrap around Billy’s bottom one and suck, on his tongue when Billy licks into his mouth in return, on his breath when theirs mingle together for the hundredth time.

They trade soft, slow kisses in the sunlight, lips parting just to come together again until they’re just resting against each other, breathing together again. Steve’s thumb strokes the hollow of Billy’s cheek, back and forth.

In a minute, they’ll drive separate cars to Steve’s house, only to settle together on the living room couch and while away the afternoon with pizza and beer. In a minute, Billy’s going to slap Steve’s ass when he turns to get into the Beamer and make a dirty joke that he’ll follow through with later that night. In a minute, they’ll let go of each other.

For now, Billy buries his nose in the hair that curls behind Steve’s ear and closes his eyes, breathes in. Thinks back to the drive over from California, how he was sure every mile was a shovel of dirt piled over his grave, and any chance of happiness was left behind there with the warmth of the sun. Thinks he was wrong.

It was bringing him to this instead.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #billy x steve #billy antis dni #mine

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lovebillyhargrove · 11 months

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A follow up to this *billy's camaro fic*

Next day the boys are busy. Well, it's mostly Steve who's busy. While having breakfast Billy tries insisting on coming with him to the repair shop, because of course he needs to see for himself who they are entrusting his precious baby to, but Harrington tells him it's too risky to be seen in public just yet. It's a small town, you never know who you're going to run into when you turn the corner. It might be Tommy, it might be Max, it might be their high school Lit teacher or Billy's former manager from the Hawkins community pool. It might be literally anyone who Billy is still not quite ready to see. Or, who aren't ready themselves to bump into a supposedly dead teenager looking very much alive and walking around the town like it's the most natural thing. Harrington has already resurrected the car once. To be more exact, he's found the right people to do it, so. He's not new to this. Billy finally listens to the voice of reason and just grabs the medicine kit to treat a couple of wounds that still bother him. Steve calls the tow truck service, and in two hours he's standing near the repair shop watching the camaro being unloaded from the truck.

"Kid, you gotta stop doing whatever you're doing to that car." - Old Joe tells Steve, shaking his head in disbelief, and Harrington just throws up his hands like the situation which led up to this was out of his control. It actually was, so it's nobody's fault.

When Steve gets home, he hears sizzling sounds coming from the kitchen.

"You want a grilled cheese sandwich, Harrington? Found stuff in the fridge, making some."

Wow, that's kinda new. Nobody has cooked anything for Steve in a long, looong, no you don't understand, a really long time

"Yeah, if that's okay?"

"So how did it go?"

"Well, the old man was uh .. confused? I don't think he expected me to be back like that. He was also sad .. ? Cause they fixed it up so well. Looked brand new, just a few weeks ago."

"He'll just have to do it again. If he agreed. Did he?"

"Yeah, yeah, he did. He knows the car, knows what to do. It's not as bad as the last time."

"When are they gonna be done?"

"He said he would call me tonight, or tomorrow morning, tell me about the time they'll need."

"How much is it?"

"Well, he didn't tell me the exact price, because .. he still needs to look into it, so .."

Hargrove's looking at Steve intently

"Listen, I'll give you the money back. But obviously not right now."

"Yeah, I mean .. You don't have to give me back anything."

"I will, Steve."

"If you want to, okay. We can talk about it later, really. We have like .. so many things to figure out first."

Billy's putting a sandwich on a plate and sliding it to Harrington.

"Lunch."

"Oh wow. Thanks."

After lunch Steve goes upstairs and searches through his drawer for Dr. Owens' phone number.

When Owens hears Steve's name, he asks immediately

"Is it acting up again, Steve?"

"What? Oh, no. No, everything is okay here, just .. do you remember Billy? Billy Hargrove?"

"Of course. The guy who died in Starcourt?"

"Yes. Well .. what would you say if I told you that .. hypothetically, I had some information about him being alive?"

Steve's feeling kinda stupid. He's not completely sure they can trust Owens, but they really have no-one to turn to if they need help with documents. Billy Hargrove is officially dead. Even if they are talking about a fake ID, with a different name, Steve doesn't have connections like that. And it's not just an ID. Driving license, high school diploma, where are they supposed to get all the papers from??

Steve's afraid he's not good at this trying-not-to-get-too-involved-with-the-government stuff. Fucking spy shit. Outlaw level.

"I'd say, it makes sense, Steve."

"R .. really? Why?"

"Well, you don't know that but .. when the scene was cleared and all of you were sent home after what happened in Starcourt, Billy's body .. was gone. After the paramedics announced his death, I believe the body was just laying there unsupervised for .. really, not more than only a few minutes, but when my people came to pick it up, it wasn't there, on the Starcourt floor. We searched everywhere, but it just vanished into thin air."

"Oh my god. So .."

"So I am not even too much surprised to hear your news."

"Why didn't you say anything .. to Billy's family? Who did you bury in that grave??"

"Steve, he was dead. How could I have explained this to his family?? It was a closed casket. It was an empty casket."

Owens is silent for a second.

"Now .. The more important question is, if Billy is alive, is there a chance that he's still flayed? Is he dangerous?"

Steve's looking at Billy sitting across from him and he understands that Billy understands too. What they are talking about. Probably he can hear Owens voice.

"Look, Dr. Owens, I uh .. first of all, the key word here is hypothetically. Like .. I don't even know if he's alive or not. But if he was and he didn't present any .. danger to people, would there be any possibility to get his life back to normal somehow? I mean, paperwork?"

"Anything is possible, Steve. But we would have to run some tests first probably."

Billy's tensing

Steve actually doesn't think it was such a great idea to call Owens now. Fuck. "One of the good ones", my ass.

"Dr. Owens, listen. Hypothetically .. -

Hargrove's rolling his eyes at hearing the word for the third time now

- .. speaking, a guy who came back from the dead would be very traumatized, right? What if .. what if there was a way not to run any tests in a lab or something like that?"

"I hear you, Steve. I would still need to see him, even if it was only me. How does that sound?"

Steve's looking at Billy. Hargrove is shrugging his shoulders.

"How can I be sure that it's only going to be you, Dr. Owens?"

"Steve. You've already been through so much. We've been through certain things together as well. You might have noticed I do things differently than my other colleagues. Will and Jane, they are living a usual life in California, right? We let them go. I just need to make sure Billy is not a threat."

"I see."

"Let's make a deal. I'll make all the papers ready. We'll meet and talk, the three of us, in a public place. Or I can visit the place where, hypothetically, -

Steve's covering the receiver with one hand and whispering to Hargrove "Is he mocking me?" -

" .. Billy is staying. Just me. If I see that everything is alright, that'll do. Billy will get his identification, and he's free to go. Believe it or not, we also want this mess to finish, once and for all."

Steve is hesitant, but, really, what choice do they have?

Billy's nodding.

"Okay. Okay, Dr. Owens. When and where should we meet?"

They agree for Steve to call Owens again in a week and decide on the meeting place.

"Good bye, Dr. Owens."

Steve can see that Billy is not very happy with this conversation.

"Maybe it wasn't such a good idea after all."

"It's fine, Steve. What other options do I have anyway? I'm a dead man according to the system. I need the fucking papers. I can't get them without the fucking government."

"Yeah, yeah I know. But hey, I still think Owens is a good one."

"We'll see, Harrington. It's fine. Thanks for making that call."

Steve's still doubtful that it was a wise move, but he's honestly trying to help.

"What are you going to do for the rest of the day, Harrington?"

"Well I .. I need to call my mom? Check on her and kinda find out about their plans .. make sure they aren't gonna make a surprise visit here. And then, go grocery shopping. Can't take you with me, but uh .. tell me what you maybe need .. or want?"

"Steve, everything is fine, I don't need anything. I think I'm gonna go nap now. Do you wanna watch a movie later?"

"Sure. Sure, what do you have in mind?"

"What's new?"

They end up spending the afternoon and the evening cooking dinner together and watching "Back to the future" and re-watching "The Terminator" cause, apparently, they both like it, and Steve is enjoying it all so much, because he hasn't spent a day like that in a long, really long time. Also, he sort of has a suspicion Billy is enjoying himself as well, and it's not even awkward between them,

and this is strange, because if Steve recalls high school correctly, it was so strange, like Billy was out to get him and Steve was annoyed by it, and if you asked him about Hargrove he'd just say that he hated that loud Californian fuck, but in reality, and that's something he would've never told anyone, Steve sort of enjoyed his attention. Add in there those couple of times with those couple of dreams when he might've woken up with a situation in his underwear cause he ..

He really shouldn't think about it now.

Before going to bed Billy says to Steve

"Good night, man. Tomorrow we are closing that fucking portal." He's yawning and stretching and Steve still can't believe Hargrove's turned into some kind of a superhero.

***

In the early morning Old Joe calls and catches Steve on the doorstep leaving for work. He says everything is definitely not as bad as it was the previous time. They'll need two weeks, maybe two and a half, tops.

It's good news. Other good news is that Steve's parents are not planning on visiting their son for quite some time, and Steve was relieved to hear that yesterday.

Tonight they are having plans. Big plans. If he's honest with himself, Steve has been feeling so .. alive. Ever since this mess with the camaro started, and then with the hope that resident asshole Billy H. is somewhere out there, Steve's never felt lonely, or without a purpose, or like he was just wasting his life away.

***

They drive to the ruins of Starcourt after dark has set down. Billy is amazing. He throws his hand out and the air is charged with electricity, high voltage, skull and crossed bones, and

he does close the portal.

And even though he collapses on the ground right after it and Steve has to literally drag him to the beamer and inside the house to the couch again, Billy is still fucking gorgeous.

That night Steve dreams of the school basketball court and feels Hargrove's hot sweaty body pressing into his.

***

The next couple of weeks it's quiet. They get some kind of a routine going, and Steve would lie if he said he wasn't in a hurry to get home every evening. Robin's onto him and thinks he's got a girlfriend. Steve just surrounds himself with mystery and tells Robin that he can't go to the movies with her tonight, again, "Sorry Rob, some family business."

Everything is quiet and calm, and nothing really happens except their meeting with Owens. In a diner outside Hawkins, Billy's wearing a beanie and sunglasses on an absolutely sunless day, just like in spy movies, Steve's nervous, but everything goes well. Probably because they look like two teenage dumbasses "Just avoid using the word hypothetically, Steve." - "Shut up, Hargrove." and Owens understands no-one is flayed here anymore. Billy gets the whole shebang of brand new documents, and he's a free bird.

The camaro gets fixed, and when Steve brings her back, they celebrate. They are sitting in the car, shooting the shit, one of old Billy's tapes playing, and Billy smokes his first cigarette after July the 4th. He even gets through one bottle of beer and hugs Harrington before going to the guest room for the night "C'mere, man. Fucking thank you." His words are a bit slurry and eyes teary, and Steve melts into that brief hug although it's just a usual bro hug and he can't read too much into that, otherwise he won't be able to sleep tonight so he just says "See you in the morning, Billy" and watches Hargrove turn his broad back and close the door to the guest room. Billy's been gaining his weight back, and he just keeps looking better every day.

In the morning Steve's coming down to the smell of coffee in the kitchen. Billy's sitting at the table crunching on cereal. They exchange morning pleasantries and then Billy says

"Hey, Steve. I think I have to .. I have to go see my father."

To be continued

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

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alwaysthesitter · 1 year

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Alright, after just rewatching every Steve scene from S3 (which gladly took me way longer than 1 and 2 because he is such a key role by this point yayyy), I have come up with a long ass list of head canons. Apologies for how long this post is going to be. Also, first hc has a slight trigger warning for ED, though not really. But don't want to set anyone off accidentally.

Steve has body issues. I kind of already head canon this, but I think it became more apparent for me in S3. My Steve very much thinks he's only good for a 'pretty face' and 'sexual prowess' due to everything, and this just confirmed for me that Steve will do anything to make sure he maintains his good looks. It first gets brought up when Dustin mentions the unlimited ice cream and Steve says he has to maintain his hot bod for the ladies. While it seems in jest, we later see the infamous "banana" scene that I used to think was kind of silly until tonight. To me, it reflects that Steve doesn't allow himself to indulge in things like ice cream or anything of the sort because it will destroy the one thing he feels he has left for himself - his looks. He'd rather just eat a thousand bananas than even dream of getting 'fat'.

Steve's genuine number one fear is that of free-falling. I'm trying to flesh this out a bit, but it seems so apparent to me. Several times in this season, Steve is seen literally throwing himself into death. Flinging himself right at the Russian in the operations room. Running to get his car to save the others from the Mindflayer. Even right before this, in telling everyone else to back away from what the Russians were hiding. Steve is always throwing himself into danger and facing death head on, but the elevator scene is the ONE TIME we see him truly 'unhinged.' He's panicking, he genuinely mentions a fear of death, even though he has faced death so many times. This fear is real to him.

His Scoops uniform. I already head canon that Steve hates this thing, mostly because he feels ridiculous in it. But man, this poor guy got tortured, beat to near death (again), etc. while in this uniform. It's probably an honest trigger point for him. I do have threads where he wears it (because we all know fanon has everyone pining for him in it), but if Steve wears it for you, it's a privilege to see. It would take him a lot of courage, and mean he overcame a lot. So if he wears it for you, praise that damn boy.

Eddie is not the only one that was held back. Though Steve wasn't held back a full year (which I hc is because of his athletic skill and also because his family is made of money), it's pretty obvious to me that he was held back in a few classes. Why else would him and Robin both be in sophomore history together, when Steve is a year ahead of her? Sure, Robin is smart, and we could head canon that she's a year ahead in some courses, but I'd like to think with Steve's (lack of) intelligence, it's more likely he failed some classes and had to retake them.

"It's all just bullshit." If you know my Steve, bullshit is his biggest trigger word, and I truly think this is canon because of this scene. A Nancy I used to write with (I won't name names) always told me it was clear that Steve had moved on from what she had said at Tina's party and her getting with Jonathan because when she goes to apologize in S2, he tells her not to worry about it. I don't see it that way at all, and this just confirms it to me. He's sitting there on drugs, talking about how sometimes the things we dedicate our whole lives to end up not being worth it, and end up being all just bullshit. This is such a genuine reflection to his relationship with Nancy, and how he feels that that time was wasted for nothing.

Steve loves cars. I think this isn't even just a head canon but absolute canon, and I just want to acknowledge it. When people ask me about Harringrove, like I'm sorry, but you can't tell me that Steve didn't have eyes on that Camaro from the second it pulled up to Hawkins High. My man loves cars. He calls cars 'baby' canonically. This is the scene that literally made me give Steve a daddy kink (Erica being all "did he just refer to himself as daddy" had me laughing for twenty minutes). He's got a boner for cars, okay?

His mom is used as a reference on his application. This means that he still sees himself as having a decent connection with his mom, or at least enough so that it's better than his dad. However note that he doesn't say something like "yeah my mom will give me a great recommendation." It's that she has a well known reputation and status. Enough so that he thinks putting her on a resume will get him hired. Meaning that the Harringtons are a freaking huge deal in that small town (and considering as mentioned earlier there were like thousands of people both at the mall AND at the county fair, this gives Steve and his family even more status). Which just supports all my head canons about them being invited to fancy galas and whatnot and that being why they are never around.

Now that all of this is out of my head, my sick ass is going to bed. Please feel free to ask further questions, tag me in starters that align with any of these, etc.

#[the hell am i sorry for*/head canons]#season three headcanons #was this my first time watching s3 since my first watch through? yes #this is why i do these steve-athons to focus solely on him and not the bigger picture to get a better grasp at how i see him

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paisholotus · 2 years

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ᑕᕼᗩᑭTEᖇ OᑎE

༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ᵀʳᵘˢᵗ ᴵⁿ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢʰⁱᵖ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ

Percy's Pov

We tore through the night along the. dark country roads. Wind slammed against the Camaro. Rain lashed on the wind-shield. I didn't know how my mom could see anything, but she kept her foot on the gas. Every time there was a flash of lightning, I looked at Grover sitting next to me in the backseat and I wondered if I'd gone insane, or if he was wearing some kind of shag-carpet pants. But, no, the smell was one I remembered from kindergarten field trips to the petting zoo.

The smell of a wet barnyard animal.All I could think to say was, "So, you and my mom... know each other?"Grover eye's flitted to the rearview mirror, though there were no cars behind us. "Not exactly," he said. "I mean, we've never met in person. But she knew I was watching you." "Watching me?" I asked, confused. "Keeping tabs on you. Making sure you were okay. But I wasn't faking about being your friend," he added, hastily. "I am your friend.""Urn ... what are you, exactly?" I asked, cautiously.

That doesn't matter right now."he said, dismissing me. "It doesn't matter? From the waist down, my best friend is a donkey-" I yelled at him. Grover let out a sharp, throaty "Blaa-ha-ha!" I scrunched up my face. I'd heard him make that sound before, but I'd always assumed it was a nervous laugh. Now I realized it was more of an irritated sound. "Goat!" he cried. Turning to look at me. "What?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

"I'm a goat from the waist down." He said, slowly. "You just said it didn't matter." I said. Looking at him suspiciously. "Blaa-ha-ha! There are satyrs who would trample you underhoof for such an insult!" He yelled, at me offended. My face dropped, as I looked back down at his bottom half. "Whoa. Wait. Satyrs. You mean like ... Mr. Brunner's myths?" I asked, him slowly.

"Were those old ladies at the fruit stand a myth, Percy? Was Mrs. Dodds a myth?" He asked, me mockingly. "So you admit there was a Mrs. Dodds!" I said, yelling at him. Finally he admits it. "Of course." He says, calmly.

"Then why-" I begin to ask him, but he cuts me off. "The less you knew, the fewer monsters you'd attract," Grover said, like it's a normal everyday thing. "We put Mist over the humans eyes. We hoped you'd think the Kindly One was a hallucination. But it was no good. You started to realize who you are." He said, sadly. "Who I-wait a minute, what do you mean?" I asked, him confused. What in the world was going on here? The weird bellowing noise rose up again somewhere behind us, closer than before. Whatever was chasing us was still on our trail.

Whatever was happening, it didn't feel good. All these secrets just come out of no where and blow up in my face. My best friend is a goat, I watched my teacher turn into a monster. And there's someone or something chasing us. I felt like I was going to pass out soon.

"Percy," my mom said, "there's too much to explain and not enough time. We have to get you to safety." She said, fearfully. "Safety from what? Who's after me?" I asked, looking out the back window. "Oh, nobody much," Grover said, obviously still miffed about the donkey comment. "Just the Lord of the Dead and a few of his blood-thirstiest minions." He said, in a matter of fact tone.

"Grover!" Sally yelled, at Grover glaring at him.

"Sorry, Mrs. Jackson. Could you drive faster, please?" Grover said, with worry in his voice.

I tried to wrap my mind around what was happening, but I couldn't do it. I knew this wasn't a dream. This had to be real. I could never dream up something this weird. My mom made a hard left. We swerved onto a narrower road, racing past darkened farmhouses and wooded hills and 'PICK YOUR OWN STRAWBERRIES' signs on white picket fences.

"Where are we going?" I asked, asked for the millionth time. "The summer camp I told you about." My mother's voice was tight; she was trying for my sake not to be

scared. "The place your father wanted to send you." She said, with her voice breaking. "The place you didn't want me to go." I smartly pointed out. "Please, dear," my mother begged. "This is hard enough. Try to understand. You're in danger." She said, with urgency.

"Because some old ladies cut yarn." I asked them, still confused. "Those weren't old ladies," Grover said. "Those were the Fates. Do you know what that means? When they appeared in front of you? They only do that when you're about to ... when someone's about to die." He said, dangerously low. "Whoa. You said 'you.'" I yelled to him. "No I didn't. I said 'someone.'" He argued back. "You meant 'you.' As in me." I questioned him. "I meant you, like 'someone.' Not you, you." He huffed. "Boys!" my mom yelled sternly.

She pulled the wheel hard to the right, and I got a glimpse of a figure she'd swerved to avoid-a dark

flutter-ing shape now lost behind us in the storm.

"What was that?" I asked looking out the window This was officially now freaking me out.

"We're almost there," my mother said, ignoring my question. "Another mile. Please. Please. Please." She quietly begged. I didn't know where there was, but I found myself lean-ing forward in the car, anticipating, wanting us to arrive.

Outside, nothing but rain and darkness the kind of empty countryside you get way out on the tip of Long Island. I thought about Mrs. Dodds and the moment when she'd changed into the thing with pointed teeth and leath-ery wings. My limbs went numb from delayed shock. She reallyhadn't been human.

She'd meant to kill me.Then I thought about Mr. Brunner ... and the sword he had thrown at me. Before I could ask Grover about that, the hair rose on the back of my neck. There was a blinding flash, a jaw-rattling boom!, and our car

exploded. I remember feeling weightless, like I was being crushed, fried, and hosed down all at the same time. I peeled my forehead off the back of the driver's seat and said, "Ow." I groaned. "Percy!" my mom shouted. "I'm okay... ." I said, slowly in pain.

I tried to shake off the daze. I wasn't dead. The car hadn't really exploded. We'd swerved into a ditch. Our driver's-side doors were wedged in the mud. The roof had cracked open like an eggshell and rain was pouring in. And Lightning striking the dark sky. That was the only explanation. We'd been blasted right off the road. Next to me in the backseat was a big and emotionless. "Grover!" I yelled. He was slumped over, blood trickling from the side of his mouth. I shook his furry hip, thinking, No! Even if you are half barnyard animal, you're still my best friend and I don't want you to die!

Then he groaned "Food," and I knew there was hope. "Percy," my mother said, "we have to ..." Her voice faltered. I looked back. In a flash of lightning, through the mud-spattered rear windshield, I saw a figure lumbering toward us on the shoulder of the road. The sight of it made my skin crawl. It was a dark silhouette of a huge guy, like a football player. He seemed to be holding a blanket over his head. His top

half was bulky and fuzzy. His upraised hands made it look like he had horns.

I swallowed hard. "Who is-" I asked, but was cut off by my mom. "Percy," my mother said, deadly serious. "Get out of the car." Her face held with fear. My mother threw herself against the driver's-side door. It was jammed shut in the mud. I tried mine, but it was stuck too. I looked up desperately at the hole in the roof. It might've been an exit, but the edges were

sizzling and smoking. "Climb out the passenger's side!" my mother told me. "Percy-you have to run. Do you see that big tree?" She asked me. "What?" I asked her.

Another flash of lightning, and through the smoking hole in the roof I saw the tree she meant. A huge, White House Christmas tree-sized pine at the crest of the nearest hill.

"That's the property line," my mom said. "Get over that hill and you'll see a big farmhouse down in the valley. Run and don't look back. Yell for help. Don't stop until you reach the door." She said, carefully to me. "Mom, you're coming too." I said. Her face was pale, her eyes as sad as when she looked at the ocean.

"No!" I shouted. "You are coming with me. Help me carry Grover." I told her. "Food!" Grover moaned, a little louder. The man with the blanket on his head kept coming toward us, making his grunting, snorting noises. As he got closer, I realized he couldn't be holding a blanket over his head, because his hands were huge and meaty

Swinging at his sides. There was no blanket. Meaning the bulky, fuzzy mass that was too big

to be his head ... was his head. And the points that looked like horns ...

"He doesn't want us," my mother told me. "He wants you. Besides, I can't cross the property line." She said, solemnly. "But...we don't have time, Percy. Go. Please." She pleaded.

I got mad, then angry at my mother, then at Grover the goat, at the thing with horns that was lumbering toward us slowly and deliberately like, like a bull. I climbed across Grover and pushed the door open into the rain. "We're going together. Come on, Mom."

"I told you-" She started to tell me the same thing about not being able to enter. But being fed up, I didn't want to hear it. I'm not leaving my mother. "Mom! I am not leaving you. Help me with Grover." I didn't wait for her answer. I scrambled outside, dragging Grover from the car. He was surprisingly light, but I couldn't have carried him very far if my mom hadn't come to my aid.

Together, we draped Grover's arms over our shoulders and started stumbling uphill through wet wais thigh grass. Glancing back, I got my first clear look at the monster. He was seven feet tall, easy, his arms and legs like something from the cover of Muscle Man magazine bulging biceps and triceps and a bunch of other 'ceps, all stuffed like baseballs under vein webbed skin. He wore no clothes except underwear, I mean bright white Fruit of the Looms-which would've looked funny, except that the top half of his body was so scary.

Coarse brown hair started at about his belly button and got thicker as it reached his shoulders.His neck was a mass of muscle and fur leading up to his enormous head, which had a snout as long as my arm, snotty nostrils with a gleaming brass ring, cruel black eyes, and horns-enormous black and white horns with points you just couldn't get from an electric sharpener.

I recognized the monster, all right. He had been in one of the first stories Mr. Brunner told us. But he couldn't be real. I blinked the rain out of my eyes. "That's-" I stuttered, getting off again by my mom."Pasiphae's son," my mother said. "I wish I'd known how badly they want to kill you."

"But he's the Min-" She cupped my mouth. "Don't say his name," she warned. "Names have power."The pine tree was still way too far-a hundred yards uphill at least. I glanced behind me again.

The bull-man hunched over our car, looking in the win-dows-or not looking, exactly. More like snuffling, nuzzling. I wasn't sure why he bothered, since we were only about fifty feet away."Food?" Grover moaned. "Shhh," I told him. "Mom, what's he doing? Doesn't he see us?" I asked. "His sight and hearing are terrible," she said. "He goes by smell. But he'll figure out where we are soon enough." She said, quietly.

As if on cue, the bull-man bellowed in rage. He picked up Gabe's Camaro by the torn roof, the chassis creaking and groaning. He raised the car over his head and threw it down the road. It slammed into the wet asphalt and skidded in a shower of sparks for about half a mile before coming to a stop. The gas tank exploded.

Not even a scratch."Percy," my mom said. "When he sees us, he'll charge. Wait until the last second, then jump out of the way directly sideways. He can't change directions very well once he's charging. Do you understand?" She asked sternly. "How do you know all this?" I asked her.

"I've been worried about an attack for a long time. I should have expected this. I was selfish, keeping you near me." She said, looking at me with guilt. "Keeping me near you? But another bellow of rage, and the bull-man started tromping uphill. He'd smelled us.The pine tree was only a few more yards, but the hill was getting steeper and slicker, and Grover wasn't getting any lighter.

The bull-man closed in. Another few seconds and he'd be on top of us. My mother must've been exhausted, but she shouldered Grover. "Go, Percy! Separate! Remember what I said." She said, running the opposite direction. I didn't want to split up, but I had the feeling she was right-it was our only chance. I sprinted to the left and turned, and saw the creature bearing down on me. His black eyes glowed with hate. He reeked like rotten meat.

He lowered his head and charged, those razor-sharp horns aimed straight at my chest. The fear in my stomach made me want to bolt, but that wouldn't work. I could never outrun this thing. So I held my ground, and at the last moment, I jumped to the side.The bull-man stormed past like a freight train, then bel-lowed with frustration and turned, but not toward me this time, toward my mother, who was setting Grover down in the grass. We'd reached the crest of the hill. Down the other side I could see a valley, just as my mother had said, and the lights of a farmhouse glowing yellow through the rain. But that was half a mile away. We'd never make it.

"Hey!" I screamed, waving the jacket, running to one side of the monster. "Hey, stupid! Ground beef!" I yelled to the hideous monster.

"Raaaarrrrr!" The monster turned toward me, shaking his meaty fists.I had an stupid idea, but better than no idea at all. I put my back to the big pine tree and waved my red jacket in front of the bull-man, thinking I'd jump out of the way at the last moment. But it didn't happen like that.The bull-man charged too fast, his arms out to grab me whichever way I tried to dodge.

Time slowed down.

My legs tensed. I couldn't jump sideways, so I leaped straight up, kicking off from the creature's head, using it as a springboard, turning in midair, and landing on his neck. How did I do that? I didn't have time to figure it out. A millisecond later, the monster's head slammed into the tree and the impact nearly knocked my teeth out. The bull-man staggered around, trying to shake me. I locked my arms around his horns to keep from being thrown. Thunder and lightning were still going strong. The rain was in my eyes. The smell of rotten meat burned my nostrils.

The monster shook himself around and bucked like a rodeo bull. He should have just backed up into the tree and smashed me flat, but I was starting to realize that this thing had only one gear: forward.

Meanwhile, Grover started groaning in the grass. I wanted to yell at him to shut up, but the way I was getting tossed around, if I opened my mouth I'd bite my own tongue off. "Food!" Grover moaned.The bull-man wheeled toward him, pawed the ground again, and got ready to charge. I thought about how he had squeezed the life out of my mother, made her disappear in a flash of light, and rage filled me like high-octane fuel. I got both hands around one horn and I pulled backward with all my might. The monster tensed, gave a surprised grunt, then-snap! The bull-man screamed and flung me through the air. I landed flat on my back in the grass. My head smacked against a rock.

When I sat up, my vision was blurry, but I had a horn in my hands, a ragged bone weapon the size of a knife.The monster charged.Without thinking, I rolled to one side and came up kneeling. As the monster barreled past, I drove the broken horn straight into his side, right up under his furry rib cage.The bull-man roared in agony. He flailed, clawing at his chest, then began to disintegrate-not like my mother, in a flash of golden light, but like crumbling sand, blown away in chunks by the wind, the same way Mrs. Dodds had burst apart. The monster was gone.

The rain had stopped. The storm still rumbled, but only in the distance. I smelled like livestock and my knees were shaking. My head felt like it was splitting open. I was weak and scared and trembling with grief I'd just seen my mother vanish. I wanted to lie down and cry, but there was Grover, needing my help, so I managed to haul him up and stagger down into the valley, toward the lights of the farm-house. I was crying, calling for my mother, but I held on to Grover-I wasn't going to let him go.

The last thing I remember is collapsing on a wooden porch, looking up at a ceiling fan circling above me,

moths flying around a yellow light, and the stern faces of a familiar looking bearded man and a pretty girl. She had long blonde braids, and honey brown eyes.. They both looked down at me, and the girl said, "He's the one. He must be." But she frowned, "should take him to Goddess Clio, he's hurt." She asked the man. He hummed scratching his beard. "He's still conscious. Bring him inside." He said.

I slowly closed my eyes thinking about my mother.

-Time Skip-

Narrative

Chiron and Annabeth helped Grover and the boy into the Cabin. Sat at the large round table was the Sun Goddess and her Daughter. As they sat and watched the two carefully place the boys down. The Sun Goddess stood up and walked over to the three, her daughter close behind.

Selene Elias

"What has become of them?" She inquired of Chiron. The Goddess looked at the two boys with a heavy heart after he told her what he saw. "So the boy's mother was taken or killed?" She asked, sadly. Bending down and touching their brows.

Selene, the Goddesse's daughter, knelt and took the boy's hand in hers. His expression was one of devastation and exhaustion. "Will You help them, mama?" She asked, with concern.

"Of course, my love." Her Mother said, softly. The Sun Goddess placed her hand on the boy's body, her eyes turned gold, and a bright shimmering light emanated from her hand. As the Goddess withdrew her hand, the boy's body glowed brightly, then gradually dimmed.

She went over to Grover, and when she was finished, she stood up. Her daughter was still squeezing the boy's hand. "Let us take them to the infirmary, Annabeth." Chiron told her.

He went over to get Grover, and took him out his Cabin. Annabeth bowed down to pick up the dark-haired boy, and Selene looked at her sad that he was being taken away. "Don't worry, you'll see him tomorrow." Annabeth said, gently.

The sun Goddess took her daughter in her arms and kissed the side of her head. "Are you certain you want to remain here, Darling? Your father could provide you with additional pets to keep you company." Little Selene was playing with her mothers necklace, which her papa had given to her mother.

"You do realize this is a place for half-bloods, don't you? And if you aren't one, this isn't the place for you. " the Sun Goddess, told her daughter. Selene smiled as she looked up at her mother.

"I know mama. But I don't need anymore pets, toys, or presents. I'd like to play with other kids my age. I wanna make friends mama. She said, sincerely. "Okay, my little love." The Sun Goddess said, with a smile and a nod.

After some time Chiron came back in and walked towards the Goddess and her child. "He'll, be fine in the morning. Your help is very much appreciated Clio." She smiled and gave a nod, "I'm glad I could help them, I can tell they've been through much today." Chiron nodded and walked towards the Godly pair, "Are, you sure you want to stay here, Little one." He asked, Selene. Who eagerly nodded, "It's lonely being the only child." She said, giving a toothy grin.

Chiron chuckled and looked to Clio who smiled sweetly at her little girl. "Alright, my flower, if you're going to stay here, you're going to have some guard you at all times, okay? And when you feel like it you can come home anytime. You know how to send for me."

Chiron thanked Clio again as he walked them out. Selene had fallen asleep on her mother's shoulder, as they walked to thalia's tree that kept them all safe. The Sun Goddess smiled softly again at Chiron, and raised her hand into the air letting down a bright gold light around them, that takes them home.

#black reader #black writers #black representation #poc reader #poc writer #black excellence #self post #black girls #percy jackson lightening theif #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy Jackson x black reader #annabeth chase #grover underwood #greek mythology #black goddess #black tumblr #tumblelog #Pure Found Love

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i-used-to-wear-the-fedora · 1 year

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Flayed Neil AU, Run and Hide

It wasn't until they were on the other side of Hawkins before Billy pulled the Camaro over to the side of the road. Panic still coursing through his veins as put the vehicle in park. Glancing at his rear view mirror just to make sure they hadn't been followed.

"What the hell is going on?" Max asked for a second time as she noticed how panicked he still was. "I thought you were at your friends house. Neil said-"

"Yeah well Neil was fucking lying." The teen snapped. "And that *thing* that attacked me wasn't Neil."

"Wasn't Neil?" Max's friend asked and Billy threw his hands in the air.

"Is there a God damn echo in here? Yes! It wasn't Neil!"

"You sound crazy." Max spoke, but Billy shook his head.

"You didn't see his face. His eyes-they just went completely black. And his veins were pulsating, I don't know what the fuck I saw. But whatever the fuck that thing was, we can't go back." Billy Hargrove didn't cry but God he felt like he might start any second now. The two girls in his backseat shared a weird look. "What?" The girls turned to face Billy. "You know something, don't you?"

"I-"

"Shhhh." The strange short haired girl shushed Max, but that made the blonde angry.

"Don't you shush her, you know what's going on, don't you?" The girl stared at him with wide eyes and he slammed a fist against the dashboard of his car. "Fucking answer me!"

"Hey!" Max yelled back at her step-brother. "You don't get to yell at her like that asshole."

Billy frowned, taking a few deep breaths before letting out a sigh.

"Okay, fine, whatever. I...I'm sorry." He gritted out. "But could you tell me what the fuck is happening?"

"Wow...ugh..." Max gaped. Billy knew why. He rarely ever said sorry to anyone except the old man. She turned to the other girl and asked. "Should we tell him?"

"Need to go somewhere safe first." She said before pointing. "Go all the way down to Sinai and take a left. We can hide at the cabin."

Billy thought for a moment, unsure if he was actually going to take directions from a kid, but then again....what other options did he have?

Having seen The Evil Dead multiple times, when Billy came to a stop next to a cabin in the middle of the woods with apparently no one around, he was a little uneasy.

"This...is safe?'' He asked as he followed the preteens out of the car. "This looks like Ed Gein's vacation home."

"Her dad's the chief of police." The younger girl rolled her eyes.

"That doesn't exclude him from having human skin paraphernalia." Entering the small cabin, it was a slight relief to see no human skin lamps or anything. The mounted deer head was probably just another weird Midwest thing he didn't get, like walking tacos or tornado warning tests every month.

Wandering around the small cabin space, he saw it was a mess. It reminded the teen of the house just after his mom left. Neil refused to clean the house, and he called Billy a pussy for picking up after himself. A mess. But this one had significantly fewer beer bottles and looked a lot more....lived in. In a good way. The teen's foot stepped on something soft. Looking down, he saw one of those ugly Trolls dolls with neon pink hair. Making sure the girls weren't in the living room anymore when he leaned down to pick it up. He had a couple of them when he was younger, but like most things from his childhood, they ended up in the trash after Neil deemed him a man at ten years old.

"Hop's not here." Max called out as she re-entered the living room. Billy jumped, hiding the Trolls doll behind his back. "What was that?" The redhead asked when she noticed the movement.

"Nothing." Billy shoved the troll doll in his back pocket, underneath his red handkerchief. "So....what do we do now?"

#stranger things #fanfiction #stranger things au #billy hargrove #eleven #max mayfield #flayed neil hargrove

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the-firebird69 · 1 month

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In Fund-Raising Blitz, Trump Warns Democrats: Hands Off Trump Tower - The New York Times

There's another point going on this guy told him this guy up for murder and he's not getting protection got beat up in the cops are terrible we're tired of them treating her son like that and our son says it's going to be hell for you and it will be between them for there or five they Don't know much and Mac does and it's aggravating what he's doing here with him is going to have an implication he's a clone but his group is big and people can't sense it and they just start blabbing and he's ridiculous nothing guide on the movie now is ridiculous it says I don't know what you guys are drinking in the water but your fleet is non-existent and the pseudo empire fleet is teensy you like these little teeny groups and you see them go out there and lose 10 20 billion in a shot and if they were flying by you they'll just get rid of you or absorb you I cannot even there and you're acting like the big wheel they want you to but boy this is getting very aggravating I don't get anything cuz you're a bunch of sticks in the mud you have to ask Mac how to find your way out of this cuz you see what you're doing I'm going after them a little they're going after you he's obnoxious.

And they said this is very rude s*** we're out there out front telling everybody what's going on and these Max won't lay off and they're blaming us for it and it's true but then again right under the rug and show continues and it does work but you're trying to extort from me and humanity and you're going to shrink to nothing and there's tons of stuff to do that's fun like for their big huge copper you can build the advice isn't there's a big market no but that's the fun part it looked at it and said I'm going to start doing this and it's not Trump and he's making stuff. And for the guy looks a little questionable there's a whole bunch of used cars different makes and models that have the same parts and people like you know which model uses the other car parts you can make a third car right now it's Chevy and Ford for the states and he said that's a great idea yes it's pseudo empire well you guys used to be big into business and you have your own businesses and opening the doors this is easiest putting the key in and turning it right now but in a few weeks or less you're going to have to go to the dirt and make iron so he got going on that and it is today blacklight guy is a colony says that are you steal from the max or these guys or you start doing nothing making stuff on your own and Tommy f had a lot of stuff and everybody needs stuff and it's already picking up and clothes like stuff that I like there's a huge business and African Americans do it all the time and the cars look stupid and it sound weird but with certain fairings they go over 200 mph and I saw one so it works but you know it's an idea and plan times these days would work differently you can take a plan time and you can take a firebird or Camaro a certain year and make a Ferrari and the rims and tires are not as much and you'll go over 400 miles an hour so he's looking at it and he says it's really that way let's see people aren't doing it so you only do it for your own and then he's a Laos but he can make motorcycles and people need something comparable to the Harley and there's a reason why it's selling it's not really the style is this style is kind of ambiguous you can't tell really that it's a Harley it doesn't look like one that much it's like recycled motors company or something but you're not into that you're into something with the moniker like something with your emblem and it's yours and you don't necessarily have a bike that does it but you could take like the same type of configuration and use a tank of yours it fits and look cool and it'll be some kind of strange odd dual bike and you kind of into that a little not as much as Terry cheese man but you need a supply for power and he has engines they're small and they're singles and he knows how to align them and those things are very very fast so it'd be like kind of a sport Enduro or something and so he's looking at it and he says why would I build it it says I don't know and handing them stuff and they're running off and doing it but it's something you could do for yours it would be smaller and you'd be known for doing stuff and it'll be only your guys you don't have to sell them and they looking very unique and be extremely fast 2 250s side by side these days will beat any Ninja and it'll go a little faster than supervised so he's looking at it and says faster than the superbike and he says I don't know if I want to open I want to check it out I think I'm the vengeful one and I might be Pee-wee Herman

They got your idea for the style cuz it's selling the lighter and smaller and they need to get around so there's a lot of people won't ride bikes they're dangerous you guys don't care it's an opportunity and he goes oh oh and he's tired to make him today believe it or not this is actually going on today and he can tell because it's the racism stuff and it was already aired it was today.

She's telling the stuff they're actually trying to do things you can't think of what to do with Trump he said to him quietly no one's taking from the empire and they have tons of stuff and I don't think you can do it and you're holding on to the money pretty soon that's going to start going so you can start getting mad and he said nobody's taking from the empire and in the future of the pseudo empire is taking spice machines and try and get Intel so he said I used to do that on a smaller scale since you shouldn't take some drugs because those guys are part of the weapons facility so he's doing that also he says it's kind of penance it's like we might all be like going to get hurt so I have ideas so he's going off and doing it. And things are going to change a little it's a good idea you saw him all fighting and just can't stand it anymore it's gross looking and they don't know it and they can't help it so they're doing things for themselves they might backfire but at least you're doing things like mac and the other Trump is trying to impossible and he says I can't open them and he says you need to open stuff that people want let Chrysler and he says okay and you probably do cuz you have parts this is good so he started to try and open it and it's going like that and he's opening different ones actually opening and we are up to 850% this morning these things are starting to happen again but we think by the end of the day it might be 950% and Dan is designing a new motorcycle is asking our son if you would drive it and instead of course it would be a cool looking multi-use bike and that's kind of what everybody is looking for you go a long distance have a lot of power and be able to go along distance without overheating and with the two motors it would do that and it's still white and with the two motorists it's still light and he says wow that's fine an idea and you put a couple lights on is a good idea it's for driving on dirt roads tire be the best of him it's like an adventure bike but a little lower is my idea with a big big tank but retro it's an idea so he's working on it now and he got the idea and he says I know how to build this he's seen one like it is not true but it will be like a utility bike and it'd be starting a whole genre himself and it's what like being David's like and he says a utility bike it's like sport utility but utility bike and he says why is it utility cuz you can Cruise they can go off road you could do trails you can do Baja and you can just support writing and high speed sport riding superbike riding racing and it is kind of technical so he's moving out and it used to be with Honda was doing but they didn't get the idea of making it across and now you can make it a mono shock and he said this is intense it's really a cool idea and having a retro tank is off like a chopper is really interesting it looks actually cool so it's going forwards I work on the hybrid later to give it more power and redundancy and he's moving on it he's designing that one too it's got to have some kind of alternator system and is trying to think of how to do that and it's just rerouting the alternator to run the alternator and you step it up with transformer and your truck will charge the battery I don't know how you make it a hybrid they're looking into the chain and he says wow that's an odd thing I don't know how to do that either I can't put it in the hub but these motors are not bigit has to go on a special gearbox and say that if you're doing it right so he's going to go ahead and do that and modern hybrids you can run at the same time and it really takes a lot of technical stuff

Thor Freya

I'd be the first in this two two of these genre this would be mine forever and it's supposedly an area of my father accelerating I'm sick of him too and I helped my friend here he's trying to say it it sucks but it works it's just terrible and we get plowed over so many times and I delivered heinous messages about myself by screwing around with him but this is works for me I'm going to look at these and try some designs

Dan

Olympus

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strgshazam · 5 months

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Missing Out - Chapter IV - If you forget what I've done, I'll do it again

While she's smoking, he leans down and starts pressing his lips against her neck. She turns her head away from him and back towards the party to give him more room to work.

That's when she sees Steve Harrington coming their way.

She puts a hand onto Billy's chest before whispering to him, "Sorry babe, fun police is here."

Just as Billy's pulling away to see what she's talking about, Steve makes his presence known. Loudly.

"Harper! The hell are you doing back here?" Though he doesn't say it, she can feel the added 'with him' at the end of that question.

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previous | next

a/n: writing has been especially tough because i'm traveling for work right now, but i'm doing my best. also, if anyone is interested in being a beta for this, please let me know!

about: billy hargrove x ofc, slow burn strangers to lovers modern!au

warnings: drug and alcohol use, substance abuse as a coping mechanism, dead dove: do not eat, eventual smut, minors dni, violence

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10:14 AM billy the flirt: Hey. Can we talk?

He set his phone back down on his nightstand with the intention of going back to sleep (or at least attempting) for a few hours. Harper didn't typically wake up until mid-afternoon. To his surpise, his phone buzzed against the wood surface beside him almost instantly.

Harper: sure thing, honey. the sooner, the better. got some shit to take care of later.

He had spent the majority of the last three weeks pissed off - why the fuck had she lied to him? What was wrong with him that she was interested in...anybody else? It wasn't until he had driven Max home from school a few days prior that some sense was knocked into him.

"Get in the car, Max. You're already late enough as it is."

"I'm only like two minutes late! What's up your ass lately?" She tossed her skateboard into the trunk of his car - there's no way she's putting that dirty piece of wood on his leather seats - and climbed into the passenger's seat and shut the door with a light slam.

"Hey! Watch the door, shitbird, or you'll be walking home for the rest of the month," he turned the key in the ignition and checked his rearview mirror that just so happened to contain his own reflection before peeling out of the school parking lot.

She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, "Seriously, what's your deal? You been fighting with that girl?"

His head snapped to look at her ever so briefly, "What girl?" She let out an incredulous laugh. "The girl you've been spending all your time with lately."

"There's no girl. And mind your fuckin' business," he kept his eyes focused on the road.

Max made her eye roll obvious enough that he didn't even need to look at her to see it. "Then why're you so defensive? How'd you fuck it up, huh?"

"Watch your mouth, Maxine. I didn't fuck up anything."

"Oh right, I forgot that you've never been an asshole to anyone before. 'Specially not girls. Never been anything less than a gentleman while trying to get in their pants."

That's what set him off. The tires of the Camaro screeched to a halt on the side of the road before he reached over to grab her arm.

He pulled her closer to him with an intense grip, "Didn't I tell you to mind your fuckin' business? I didn't do anything. And there's no girl to fuck anything up with anyway. Now get out of my car before you piss me off even more," he shoved her arm back toward her and waited for her to get out.

She climbed out of the car and held the door open, "Never been an asshole to a girl, huh?" She sneered at him before slamming the door.

He sped off without giving her the skateboard out of the trunk.

To no one's surprise, Billy had a hard time admitting he was wrong. What was worse than Max calling him out was the fact that she was right. He'd never admit that to her, of course, but she was.

The next day, he had taken her out for ice cream. Neil hadn't liked that.

He arrived at Harper's apartment and knocked on the door. He wasn't sure that he still was welcome enough to just walk in.

"It's open, Billy!"

He found her in her usual spot on the couch, but the...air of the apartment felt different. He could tell that she felt differently about him now. God, he really had fucked this up. He finally had accepted that they were just going to be friends, but now it was too late. Now it was-

"Holy shit, what happened?" He saw bruising on her cheek and a split lip that was no more than a day and a half old. He moved quickly to sit beside her on the couch and hesitated a bit before gently placing his hands against her jaw to get a better look.

She didn't flinch at his question. She didn't flinch at his touch. She only muttered, "I could ask you the same thing," as she pointed to her own eyebrow. The exact spot that he had a butterfly bandage on his own face and what little bruising remained from a black eye.

"You okay?" He gently touched his thumb against her cheek, which still didn't make her flinch. "I'm fine. You?" She stared directly into his eyes. When most people saw him like this, they couldn't stop staring at the injuries. But not her. She couldn't stop staring at him.

He used his calloused hands to gently turn her head to try to get a better look, and that's when he saw it: the bruises on her neck that were in the middle of fading. Or the middle of developing?

"Harp. What happened to you?" His voice was barely above a whisper.

She smirked at him, "You should see the other guy."

He dropped his head and let out an exastperated sigh, "You're not going to tell me, are you?" He pulled his hands away from her face and she shrugged, "You show me yours, I'll show you mine."

He leaned back against the couch and rubbed his hands over his own face, carefully avoiding his own injuries.

"Look, about what I said..."

"I forgive you," she smiled at him as much as she could without pulling her split lip open again. She reached forward toward the coffee table and picked up a joint. Holding it between her teeth, she lit it with the Zippo she pulled from her pocket.

Before she exhaled, she nudged her shoulder against his, "Hey. What's the difference between a hippo and a Zippo?"

He held his eyes closed for a moment, not wanting to just change the subject as if the situation they were in was funny. However, that was clearly what she wanted, so he gave in.

"What?"

"One's really heavy, and the other's a little lighter," she absolutely beamed.

The joke wasn't funny. It was pretty stupid, honestly. But her smile...despite them both being in the middle of shitty circumstances, she was still wanting to make them both laugh. And it worked. His own smile was big enough to exceed hers. He dropped his head into his hands and muttered, "You're the fuckin' worst," while trying to hold back as much laughter as he could.

She passed the joint to him as her smile faded, "You really wanna know what happened?"

#billy hargrove/original female character #billy hargrove/ofc #billy hargrove/original character #billy hargrove/oc #slow burn #strangers to best friends to lovers #modern au #dead dove: do not eat #eventual smut

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lovetheworld-harrypottergirl · 2 years

Text

Percy Jackson & The Olympians : The Lightning Theif

Chapter 4 - MY MOTHER TEACHES ME BULLFIGHTING

We tore through the night along dark country roads. Wind slammed against the Camaro. Rain lashed the windshield. I didn't know how my mom could see anything, but she kept her foot on the gas.

Every time there was a flash of lightning, I looked at Grover sitting next to me in the backseat and I wondered if I'd gone insane, or if he was wearing some kind of shag-carpet pants. But, no, the smell was one I remembered from kindergarten field trips to the petting zoo — lanolin, like from wool. The smell of a wet barnyard animal.

All I could think to say was, "So, you and my mom . . . know each other?"

Grover's eyes flitted to the rearview mirror, though there were no cars behind us. "Not exactly," he said. "I mean, we've never met in person. But she knew I was watching you."

"Watching me?"

"Keeping tabs on you. Making sure you were okay. But I wasn't faking being your friend," he added hastily. "I am your friend."

"Urn . . . what are you, exactly?"

" That doesn't matter right now."

"It doesn't matter? From the waist down, my best friend is a freaking donkey- "

Grover let out a sharp, throaty "Blaa-ha-ha!"

I'd heard him make that sound before, but I'd always assumed it was a nervous laugh. Now I realized it was more of an irritated bleat.

"Goat!" he cried.

"What?"

"I'm a goat from the waist down."

"You just said it didn't matter."

"Blaa-ha-ha! There are satyrs who would trample you underhoof for such an insult!"

"Whoa. Wait. Satyrs. You mean like . . . Mr. Brunner's myths?"

"Were those old ladies at the fruit stand a myth, Percy? Was Mrs. Dodds a myth?"

"So you admit there was a Mrs. Dodds!"

"Of course."

"Then why—"

"The less you knew, the fewer monsters you'd attract," Grover said, like that should be perfectly obvious. "We put Mist over the humans' eyes. We hoped you'd think the Kindly One was a

hallucination. But it was no good. You started to realize who you are."

"Who I — wait a minute, what do you mean?"

The weird bellowing noise rose up again somewhere behind us, closer than before. Whatever was chasing us was still on our trail.

"Percy," my mom said, "there's too much to explain and not enough time. We have to get you to safety."

"Safety from what? Who's after me?"

"Oh, nobody much," Grover said, obviously still miffed about the donkey comment. "Just the Lord of the Dead and a few of his blood-thirstiest minions."

"Grover!"

"Sorry, Mrs. Jackson. Could you drive faster, please?"

I tried to wrap my mind around what was happening, but I couldn't do it. I knew this wasn't a dream. I had no imagination. I could never dream up something this weird.

My mom made a hard left. We swerved onto a narrower road, racing past darkened farmhouses and wooded hills and PICK YOUR OWN STRAWBERRIES signs on white picket fences.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"The summer camp I told you about." My mother's voice was tight; she was trying for my sake not to be scared. "The place your father wanted to send you."

"The place you didn't want me to go."

"Please, dear," my mother begged. "This is hard enough. Try to understand. You're in danger."

"Because some old ladies cut yarn."

"Those weren't old ladies," Grover said. "Those were the Fates. Do you know what it means — the fact they appeared in front of you? They only do that when you're about to . . . when someone's about to die."

"Whoa. You said 'you.'"

"No I didn't. I said 'someone.'"

"You meant 'you.' As in me."

"I meant you, like 'someone.' Not you, you."

"Boys!" my mom said.

She pulled the wheel hard to the right, and I got a glimpse of a figure she'd swerved to avoid — a dark fluttering shape now lost behind us in the storm.

"What was that?" I asked.

"We're almost there," my mother said, ignoring my question. "Another mile. Please. Please. Please."

I didn't know where there was, but I found myself leaning forward in the car, anticipating, wanting us to arrive.

Outside, nothing but rain and darkness — the kind of empty countryside you get way out on the tip of Long Island. I thought about Mrs. Dodds and the moment when she'd changed into the thing with pointed teeth and leathery wings. My limbs went numb from delayed shock. She really hadn't been human. She'd meant to kill me.

Then I thought about Mr. Brunner . . . and the sword he had thrown me. Before I could ask Grover about that, the hair rose on the back of my neck. There was a blinding flash, a jaw-rattling boom! and our car exploded.

I remember feeling weightless, like I was being crushed, fried, and hosed down all at the same time.

I peeled my forehead off the back of the driver's seat and said, "Ow."

"Percy!" my mom shouted.

"I'm okay. . . ."

Lightning. That was the only explanation. We'd been blasted right off the road. Next to me in the backseat was a big motionless lump. "Grover!"

He was slumped over, blood trickling from the side of his mouth. I shook his furry hip, thinking, No! Even if you are half barnyard animal, you're my best friend and I don't want you to die!

Then he groaned "Food," and I knew there was hope.

"Percy," my mother said, "we have to . . ." Her voice faltered.

I looked back. In a flash of lightning, through the mud-spattered rear windshield, I saw a figure lumbering toward us on the shoulder of the road. The sight of it made my skin crawl. It was a dark silhouette of a huge guy, like a football player. He seemed to be holding a blanket over his head. His top half was bulky and fuzzy. His upraised hands made it look like he had horns.

I swallowed hard. "Who is — "

"Percy," my mother said, deadly serious. "Get out of the car."

My mother threw herself against the driver's-side door. It was jammed shut in the mud. I tried mine.

Stuck too. I looked up desperately at the hole in the roof. It might've been an exit, but the edges were sizzling and smoking.

"Climb out the passenger's side!" my mother told me. "Percy — you have to run. Do you see that big tree?"

"What?"

Another flash of lightning, and through the smoking hole in the roof I saw the tree she meant: a huge, White House Christmas tree-sized pine at the crest of the nearest hill.

"That's the property line," my mom said. "Get over that hill and you'll see a big farmhouse down in the valley. Run and don't look back. Yell for help. Don't stop until you reach the door."

"Mom, you're coming too."

Her face was pale, her eyes as sad as when she looked at the ocean.

"No!" I shouted. "You are coming with me. Help me carry Grover."

"Food!" Grover moaned, a little louder.

The man with the blanket on his head kept coming toward us, making his grunting, snorting noises.

As he got closer, I realized he couldn 't be holding a blanket over his head, because his hands — huge meaty hands — were swinging at his sides. There was no blanket. Meaning the bulky, fuzzy mass that was too big to be his head . . . was his head. And the points that looked like horns . . .

"He doesn't want us," my mother told me. "He wants you. Besides, I can't cross the property line."

"But . . ."

"We don't have time, Percy. Go. Please."

I got mad, then — mad at my mother, at Grover the goat, at the thing with horns that was lumbering toward us slowly and deliberately like, like a bull.

I climbed across Grover and pushed the door open into the rain. "We're going together. Come on, Mom."

"I told you—"

"Mom! I am not leaving you. Help me with Grover."

I didn't wait for her answer. I scrambled outside, dragging Grover from the car. He was surprisingly light, but I couldn't have carried him very far if my mom hadn't come to my aid.

Together, we draped Graver's arms over our shoulders and started stumbling uphill through wet waist-high grass.

Glancing back, I got my first clear look at the monster. He was seven feet tall, easy, his arms and legs like something from the cover of Muscle Man magazine — bulging biceps and triceps and a bunch of other 'ceps, all stuffed like baseballs under vein-webbed skin. He wore no clothes except underwear — I mean, bright white Fruit of the Looms — which would 've looked funny, except that the top half of his body was so scary. Coarse brown hair started at about his belly button and got thicker as it reached his shoulders.

His neck was a mass of muscle and fur leading up to his enormous head, which had a snout as long as my arm, snotty nostrils with a gleaming brass ring, cruel black eyes, and horns — enormous black-and-white horns with points you just couldn't get from an electric sharpener.

I recognized the monster, all right. He had been in one of the first stories Mr. Brunner told us. But he couldn't be real.

I blinked the rain out of my eyes. "That's — "

"Pasiphae's son," my mother said. "I wish I'd known how badly they want to kill you."

"But he's the Min— "

"Don't say his name," she warned. "Names have power."

The pine tree was still way too far — a hundred yards uphill at least.

I glanced behind me again.

The bull-man hunched over our car, looking in the windows — or not looking, exactly. More like snuffling, nuzzling. I wasn't sure why he bothered, since we were only about fifty feet away.

"Food?" Grover moaned.

"Shhh," I told him. "Mom, what's he doing? Doesn't he see us?"

"His sight and hearing are terrible," she said. "He goes by smell. But he'll figure out where we are soon enough."

Not a scratch, I remembered Gabe saying.

Oops.

"Percy," my mom said. "When he sees us, he'll charge. Wait until the last second, then jump out of the way — directly sideways. He can't change directions very well once he's charging. Do you understand?"

"How do you know all this?"

"I've been worried about an attack for a long time. I should have expected this. I was selfish, keeping you near me."

"Keeping me near you? But — "

Another bellow of rage, and the bull-man started tramping uphill.

He'd smelled us.

The pine tree was only a few more yards, but the hill was getting steeper and slicker, and Grover wasn't getting any lighter.

The bull-man closed in. Another few seconds and he'd be on top of us.

My mother must've been exhausted, but she shouldered Grover. "Go, Percy! Separate! Remember what I said."

I didn't want to split up, but I had the feeling she was right — it was our only chance. I sprinted to the left, turned, and saw the creature bearing down on me. His black eyes glowed with hate. He reeked like rotten meat.

He lowered his head and charged, those razor-sharp horns aimed straight at my chest.

The fear in my stomach made me want to bolt, but that wouldn't work. I could never outrun this thing. So I held my ground, and at the last moment, I jumped to the side.

The bull-man stormed past like a freight train, then bellowed with frustration and turned, but not toward me this time, toward my mother, who was setting Grover down in the grass.

We'd reached the crest of the hill. Down the other side I could see a valley, just as my mother had said, and the lights of a farmhouse glowing yellow through the rain. But that was half a mile away.

We'd never make it.

The bull-man grunted, pawing the ground. He kept eyeing my mother, who was now retreating slowly downhill, back toward the road, trying to lead the monster away from Grover.

"Run, Percy!" she told me. "I can't go any farther. Run!"

But I just stood there, frozen in fear, as the monster charged her. She tried to sidestep, as she'd told me to do, but the monster had learned his lesson. His hand shot out and grabbed her by the neck as she tried to get away. He lifted her as she struggled, kicking and pummeling the air.

"Mom!"

She caught my eyes, managed to choke out one last word: "Go!"

Then, with an angry roar, the monster closed his fists around my mother's neck, and she dissolved before my eyes, melting into light, a shimmering golden form, as if she were a holographic projection.

A blinding flash, and she was simply . . . gone.

"No!"

Anger replaced my fear. Newfound strength burned in my limbs — the same rush of energy I'd gotten when Mrs. Dodds grew talons.

The bull-man bore down on Grover, who lay helpless in the grass. The monster hunched over, snuffling my best friend, as if he were about to lift Grover up and make him dissolve too.

I couldn't allow that.

I stripped off my red rain jacket.

"Hey!" I screamed, waving the jacket, running to one side of the monster. "Hey, stupid! Ground beef!"

"Raaaarrrrr!" The monster turned toward me, shaking his meaty fists.

I had an idea — a stupid idea, but better than no idea at all. I put my back to the big pine tree and waved my red jacket in front of the bull-man, thinking I'd jump out of the way at the last moment.

But it didn't happen like that.

The bull-man charged too fast, his arms out to grab me whichever way I tried to dodge.

Time slowed down.

My legs tensed. I couldn't jump sideways, so I leaped straight up, kicking off from the creature's head, using it as a springboard, turning in midair, and landing on his neck.

How did I do that? I didn't have time to figure it out. A millisecond later, the monster's head slammed into the tree and the impact nearly knocked my teeth out.

The bull-man staggered around, trying to shake me. I locked my arms around his horns to keep from being thrown. Thunder and lightning were still going strong. The rain was in my eyes. The smell of rotten meat burned my nostrils.

Meanwhile, Grover started groaning in the grass. I wanted to yell at him to shut up, but the way I was getting tossed around, if I opened my mouth I'd bite my own tongue off.

"Food!" Grover moaned.

The bull-man wheeled toward him, pawed the ground again, and got ready to charge. I thought about how he had squeezed the life out of my mother, made her disappear in a flash of light, and rage filled me like high-octane fuel. I got both hands around one horn and I pulled backward with all my might. The monster tensed, gave a surprised grunt, then — snap!

The bull-man screamed and flung me through the air. I landed flat on my back in the grass. My head smacked against a rock. When I sat up, my vision was blurry, but I had a horn in my hands, a ragged bone weapon the size of a knife.

The monster charged.

Without thinking, I rolled to one side and came up kneeling. As the monster barreled past, I drove the broken horn straight into his side, right up under his furry rib cage.

The bull-man roared in agony. He flailed, clawing at his chest, then began to disintegrate — not like my mother, in a flash of golden light, but like crumbling sand, blown away in chunks by the wind, the same way Mrs. Dodds had burst apart.

The monster was gone.

The rain had stopped. The storm still rumbled, but only in the distance. I smelled like livestock and my knees were shaking. My head felt like it was splitting open. I was weak and scared and trembling with grief. I'd just seen my mother vanish. I wanted to lie down and cry, but there was Grover, needing my help, so I managed to haul him up and stagger down into the valley, toward the lights of the farmhouse. I was crying, calling for my mother, but I held on to Grover — I wasn't going to let him go.

The last thing I remember is collapsing on a wooden porch, looking up at a ceiling fan circling above me, moths flying around a yellow light, and the stern faces of a familiar-looking bearded man and a pretty girl, her h/c curled like a princess's. They both looked down at me, and the girl said,

"He's the one. He must be."

"Silence, Y/n," the man said. "He's still conscious. Bring him inside."

#percy jacksonxreader #percy jackson #grover underwood #sally jackson #percyjacksonandtheolympians #chapter 4

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h50europe · 3 years

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Why the myth about Steve's PTSD doesn't add up and other inconsistencies

In the last few episodes of H50, PL tried to sell us a mentally broken Steve suffering from PTSD. Only the whole thing came a bit too late. The clip you see is from season 4 and ended up - no, not in the series - but somewhere on the floor of PL's editing room. And why? after Kurtzman and Orci departed, along with their writers, PL took the helm and started turning Steve into a super-soldier. He stylized him into something that wasn't meant to be. Instead of developing the characters, PL began to incorporate more and more hair-raising action sequences into the series and then let Steve fight on the front lines. There was no mention of Steve's mental state, and a lot was explained by PL with: it just happened "offscreen." Yeah, sure. PL can't create a decent character. He can only produce stereotypes and one-dimensional beings. Like Adam. What potential would that character have had had he been turned into Five-0's antagonist? But no. So his role remained diffuse and monotonous. Sometimes even tragicomical.

Back to Steve. When SEAL Team started on CBS, PL also lapsed into SEAL mania. If someone who writes fanfiction were to produce as much garbage as this man did, he would be chased away from every writers' platform in disgrace. PL's Super SEAL also had to rescue his team members from a blazing inferno. Not man by man, no, he flew a helicopter right into the danger zone and lifted a whole cabin out of the burning jungle. If lunacy had a name, it would be PL. While the action became more and more exaggerated and unrealistic, the same happened to the protagonists. After the departure of Daniel Dae Kim and Grace Park, PL completely lost his mind. And please, don't blame the writers for the nonsense that was thrown at you. A series stands and falls with the showrunner. He dictates what he wants and passes it on to his staff.

And so, lovable Steve became a soulless robot who only showed feelings here and there. Danny diminished more and more into a sidekick. McDanno became a ship that drifted anchorless through a stormy sea and threatened to capsize again and again. From season 8, it became a reboot of the reboot. PL tried an ensemble show and failed more than miserably. Often the actors just stood around bored. At least that was the impression. The only highlight was episode 8.10. A feast for all McDanno fans. But even here, the outcome of "who shot Danny" was more than insubstantial.

Wait, there was something about SEALs... Oh, yes. Junior appeared on the scene and became Steve's lapdog. I really wondered when there was going to be an episode where he would fetch sticks for Steve. Luckily we had Eddie for that. And because he thought he was so clever, PL invented the episode speed dating. How many subplots can you squeeze into one episode at the same time? In some episodes, you couldn't even take a look at the bag of potato chips without losing the thread.

The case of the week became the yawn of the week. There were so many loose ends that PL then came up with something called retconning. That's what you do when you're no longer satisfied with what was once established in the series years ago, or it no longer fits. But PL went one step further and did the same with the characters. The more the series was dragged out, the more the characters deteriorated and became OOC. It means, often, they were not recognizable at all. And that's where we come to Steve. Because PL, in his desperation, didn't know what else he could do to Steve, and so he killed Joe White. He did it in such a cheesy way with a fake sunset that it made you sick.

Of course, one episode later, there had to be another gig of PL's favorite Barbie. He stuck a fake beard on poor Steve/Alex, so he couldn't even hug Danny/Scott properly. The episode also raised more questions than it answered any. And Steve? He still didn't suffer from PTSD, even though he had now lost Joe White and a fellow SEAL. Everyone is dropping like flies, except for Steve, who is standing like a rock. No matter what. He doesn't need in-depth talks with Danny, nor psychological care, nor any sleeping pills. No, he's doing great. He also opens a restaurant with Danny because apparently, the carguments are already getting on PL's nerves. Unfortunately, this plot device leads into nirvana. The idea was nice, but nobody thought it through to the end. And the merry-go-round continues. Until we get to season 10, where it gets even more absurd. Now PL is almost bombarding us with McDanno episodes, or at least it should seem that way. Oh well, he's already planning for season 11, so a new character has to come on board quickly. While in the beginning, Steve's mother, Doris, dies.

Alex was allowed to take on the subject. Of course, only under the strict eyes of PL. He then nullifies Alex's idea that Steve kills his mother. Because a good soldier and Super SEAL won't do that. Little does PL know. THAT could have been the opening of a PTSD scenario for Steve. However, apart from that, this episode would have had any potential for a multi-arc. Just imagine Steve chasing his mother across multiple episodes. Again, PL stepped in and butchered Alex's episode. You can really feel sorry for the guy. PL at his best or worse? He just can't help it. And then, on the very last meters of the series, he brings someone new, who is allowed to cruise around with Steve most of the time. Because Danny was kidnapped by Wo Fat's widow, PL also invented quite late to have some villain at his disposal. This wannabe mastermind must really have been living under a rock somewhere if she wasn't even mentioned by her husband or appeared earlier.

Because towards the end, PL obviously ran out not only of steam but also of ideas, everything culminated in a wildly illogical scenario. Steve has to live through a dramatic day with Eddie, who stands as a metaphor for Steve (as I said, PTSD was never a thing for Super SEAL), Danny bangs his brains out in a ladies' room with a complete stranger, who dies shortly after that in an accident with Danny's rental car. Apparently, there was no budget to turn the Camaro into scrap metal. Danny then also goes home alone, ignoring the incoming emergency vehicles. Everything remains open at the end of the episode. While Steve expresses his gratitude to Tani and Quinn and says, he would be just as lost as poor Eddie without the dog and all of them. The strange thing is that you never notice anything until that sentence. A few forced dialogues are supposed to make the drama visible, but they all happen way too late or are so poorly written that you miss them.

PL had decided early on to make Steve a Teflon hero. That also means he didn't need to put much substance into the character. Which you can clearly see if you compare the first three seasons to the rest of the series. But towards the end, PL wanted to turn the tide and forcefully rewrote Steve's past. There is a huge difference if you compare Steve from seasons 1 to 3 with Steve from season 10. It is only a sparse remnant of what made this character so great. This change in Steve's personality also affects his relationship with Danny. The witty, affectionate banter degenerates into a snappy, humorless bitch-fest that takes all the joy out of it.

The final two episodes could have been written for any other crime show. As mentioned, we have Cole, who even gets a book'em Cole from Steve, which can only be described as out of line. And it begs the question, was that what Lenkov originally had in mind? Danny out of the show and Cole in? Was the last episode, which mainly featured McCole, something of a test run? Did all the McDanno moments happen only to tear the two apart eventually? Was the real final scene the one where Steve and Catherine take Danny's coffin back to Jersey? Was Danny not supposed to survive? Was that the real reason Steve wanted to get out of Hawaii because he wanted to pay his respects to Danny? And would he really have returned to Hawaii later? Or would he have turned his back on Hawaii? To me, this ending is more plausible than what PL served us. Then, Steve handed over his credentials to Cole instead of Danny, his second in command. Honestly, you can't make the end of a series any more sloppy and dumber than that. And I won't even lose a word about the last 1:30 minutes because I think everything has already been said.

No PL, mission absolutely not accomplished. You created Teflon-Steve. You never wanted him to show any weakness. You turned him into a superhuman who can survive anything. Only to pull the rug out from under him on the last few meters to the finish line and spit on his legacy. How can you dismantle such a great series and its characters like you did? How much do you have to hate something to do that? In the final interviews, the showrunner didn't exactly cover himself in glory either. Everyone who grew up with the series from day one knows that its end was wrong on all the possible levels and that the showrunner is solely to blame for that. It takes a fair amount of egoism and carelessness to drive 10 years at full throttle against the wall. Not many people can do that. Whether you can be proud of that, however, I doubt.

My respect if you have made it this far. Each of you gets 10 extra brownie points for it.

#McDanno #steve mcgarrett #danny williams #scott caan #alex o'loughlin #H50 the final chapter #H50 series finale #Lenkov #Eddie #Junior #seal team

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thewidowsghost · 3 years

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Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 1

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

(Y/n) stands in the kitchen of her mother and step-father's apartment, making the bean dip Smelly Gabe liked so much.

(Y/n) fixes her gaze on the counter but then she lets out a yelp as something hits her in between her shoulder blades.

"Hurry it up, girl!" Smelly Gabe snarls.

"Yes sir," (Y/n) murmurs.

A few minutes later, Gabe stalks into the kitchen, takes the dip without so much of a thank you.

(Y/n) fixes her gaze on the shoe on the ground before she moves to her room. She climbs into her bed, getting under her covers. (Y/n) turns, facing the wall.

She closes her eyes, falling to an uneasy sleep.

(Y/n) watches, disconnected from the others in the dream, as one of her brother's teachers turns into something that reminded her of a demon, or something similar that she'd read books about. The woman had bat wings, claws, and a mouth of yellow fangs.

Then (Y/n) looks around, her eyes widening in shock as she sees her brother holding a bronze sword.

Percy swings the sword, the demon exploding into yellow powder, vaporizing on the spot.

A hand on (Y/n)'s shoulder has (Y/n) jolting awake. "Honey? Are you okay?" Sally Jackson asks.

Catching the wide-eyed look of horror on (Y/n)'s face, Sally wraps her daughter in a hug.

(Y/n)'s breathing steadies, and she breathes in her mother's familiar scent - chocolate, licorice, and all the other things she sold at the candy shop in Grand Central Station.

"Did you get all your work done?" Sally asks softly, her thumb brushing over a slightly visible bruise that had appeared at the base of the back of her neck.

(Y/n) hums in reply.

. . .

The next day, (Y/n) is once again lying in her bed, not wanting to have to deal with Gabe throwing more shoes or glass bottles at / near her.

. . .

Percy walks into the apartment, dragging his suitcase behind him, hoping his mom would be home from work. Instead, Smelly Gabe is in the living room, playing poker with his buddies. The television blares ESPN; chips and beer cans are strewn all over the carpet.

Hardly looking up, he says around his cigar, "So, you're home."

"Where's my mom? (Y/n)?"

"Mom's working," Gabe says. "The girl's in her room. You got any cash?"

"That's it. No Welcome back. Good to see you. How has your life been the last six months?

Gabe had put on weight since the last time Percy had seen him. Gabe looked like a tuskless walrus in thrift-store clothes. He has about three hairs on his head, all combed over his bald scalp.

"I don't have any cash," Percy replies.

Gabe raises a greasy eyebrow. Gabe could sniff out money like a bloodhound, which is surprising, since his own smell should've covered up everything else.

"You took a taxi from the bus station," he says. "Probably paid with a twenty. Got six, seven bucks in change. Somebody expects to live under this roof, he ought to carry his own weight. Am I right, Eddie?"

Eddie, the super of the apartment building, looks at Percy with a twinge of sympathy. "Come on, Gabe," he says. The guy just got here."

"Am I right?" Gabe repeats.

Eddie scowls into his bowl of pretzels. The two other guys pass gas in harmony.

"Fine," Percy says. He digs a wad of dollars out of his pocket and throws the money on the table. "I hope you lose."

"Your report card came, brain boy!" He shouts back at Percy. "I wouldn't act so snooty!"

Percy slams the door to his room, which isn't really his room. During school months, it is Gabe's 'study.' He doesn't study anything in there except old car magazines, but he loves shoving his stuff in Percy's closet, leaving his muddy boots on the windowsill, and doing his best to make the place smell like his nasty cologne, cigars, and stale beer.

Percy drops his suitcase on the bed. Home sweet home he thinks.

Gabe's smell is almost worse than the nightmares about Mrs. Dodds, or the sound of that old fruit lady's shears snipping the yarn.

Percy sits, lost in his thoughts.

Then he hears his mom's voice, "Percy?" She opens the bedroom door, and his fears melt. "Oh, Percy," she hugs him tight. "I can't believe it. You've grown since Christmas."

Sally had brought Percy a bag of 'free samples' the way she always did whenever he'd come home.

The two sit together on the bed. While Percy attacks the blueberry sour strings, she runs her hands through his hair, demanding to know everything that he hadn't put in his letters. She doesn't mention his getting expelled. She doesn't seem to care about that.

Percy tells his mother that she is smothering him, but secretly, Percy is really, really glad to see her.

From the other room, Gabe yells, "Hey, Sally - how about some bean dip, huh?"

Percy grits his teeth. My mom is the nicest lady in the world. She should be married to a millionaire, not to some jerk like Gabe.

(Y/n) pads into Percy's room, and the dark haired boy brightens at the sight of his younger twin.

"I've got the dip, Mom," (Y/n) says softly. Sally gazes at her daughter for a moment, her gaze sad.

"Wait, (Y/n)," Sally says, and (Y/n) turns back to face her mother. "I've got a surprise for the two of you," she says. "We're going to the beach."

Percy's eyes widen. "Montauk?"

"Three nights - same cabin," Sally replies.

"When?" (Y/n) asks, looking excited.

She smiles, "As soon as I get changed."

(Y/n) can't believe it. Mom, Percy, and I hadn't been to Montauk in the last two summers because Gabe had said that there wasn't enough money.

Gabe appears in the doorway behind (Y/n) and growls, "Bean dip, Sally? Didn't you hear me?"

Percy wants to punch him, but he meets his mother's eyes, and understands that she is offering him a deal: Be nice to Gabe for a little while; just until she's ready to leave for Montauk.

"I've got it, Gabe," (Y/n) says.

"Sorry, honey," Sally says, looking at her husband. "We were just talking about the trip."

Gabe's eyes get small. "The trip? You mean you were serious about that?"

"I knew it," Percy mutters. "He won't let us go."

"Of course he will," Sally says evenly. "Your stepfather is just worried about money."

(Y/n) turns to face Gabe, smiling as kindly as she could. "What if I make a seven-layer dip that'll last the whole weekend?" she asks. "Guacamole. Sour cream. The works."

Gabe softens a bit, then turns back to face Sally. "So, this money for your trip . . . it comes out of your clothes budget, right?"

"Yes, honey," Sally replies.

"And you won't take my car anywhere but there and back."

"We'll be very careful."

Gabe scratches his double chin. "Maybe if the girl hurries up with the seven-layer dip . . . and if the boy apologizes for interrupting my poker game."

Maybe if I kick you in your soft spot, Percy thinks. And make you sing soprano for a week.

"I'm sorry," Percy mutters. "I'm really sorry I interrupted your incredibly important power game. Please go back to it right now."

Gabe's eyes narrow. His tiny brain is probably trying to detect the sarcasm in my statement, Percy thinks.

"Yeah, whatever," Gabe decides; he goes back to his game.

"Thank you, Percy," Sally says. "Once we get to Montauk, we'll talk more about...whatever you've forgotten to tell me, okay?"

For a moment, (Y/n) can see anxiety in her mother's eyes, but then her smile returns, and (Y/n) figures that she must've been mistaken.

. . .

An hour later, the three are ready to leave.

Gabe takes a break from his poker game long enough to watch (Y/n) and Percy lug the bags to his car. He keeps griping and groaning about losing her and (Y/n)'s cooking - and more important, his '78 Camaro - for the whole weekend.

"Not a scratch on this car, brain boy," Gabe warns Percy as he loads the last bag into the car. "Not one little scratch."

Like I'd be the one driving. I'm fourteen, Percy thinks.

Watching Gabe lumbers back towards the apartment building, Percy gets so mad that he does something he can't explain. As Gabe reaches the door, Percy makes the hand gesture he'd seen Grover made on the bus, a soft of warding-off-evil gesture, a clawed hand over his heart, then a shoving movement towards Gabe. The screen door slams so hard it whacks him the the butt and sends him flying up the staircase as if he'd been shot from a cannon.

. . .

(Y/n)'s POV

Our rental cabin is on the south shore, way out at the tip of Long Island. It is a little pastel box with faded curtains, half sunken into the dunes. There's always sand in the sheets, spiders in the cabinets, and most of the time the sea is too cold to swim in.

I loved the place.

Mom, Percy, and I had been going ever since Percy and I'd been a baby. Mom had been coming even longer. She'd never exactly said, but I know why the beach was special to her.

It's the place where she'd met my Dad.

As we get closer to Montauk, Mom seems to grow younger, years of worry and work disappearing from her face. Her eyes turn the color of the sea.

We get there around sunset, open all the cabin's windows, and go through the usual cleaning routine.

Mom, Percy, and I walk on the beach, feed blue corn-chips to the seagulls, and munch on blue jelly beans, blue saltwater taffy, and all the other free samples Mom had brought home from work.

I guess maybe I should explain all the blue food.

Gabe had once told Mom that there was no such thing. They had had this fight, which had seemed like a really small think at the time, but ever since, Mom went out of her way to eat blue. She baked blue birthday cakes, mixed blueberry smoothies, bought blue-corn tortilla chips, and brought home blue candy from the shop. This - along with keeping her maiden name, Jackson, rather than calling herself Mrs. Ugliano - is proof that she isn't totally suckered by Gabe. She did have a rebellious streak, just like Percy.

When it gets dark, we make a fire. We roast hot dogs and marshmallows. Mom tells Percy and me stories about when she was a kid, back before her parents had died in the plane crash. She tells us about the books she wanted to write someday, when she had enough money to quit the candy shop.

Eventually, it seems that Percy gets the nerve to ask about what is always on our minds whenever we come to Montauk - our father. Mom's eyes go all misty. I figure she would tell us the same things she always did, but neither Percy or I ever got tired of hearing them.

"He was kind, Percy," Mom replies. "Tall, handsome, and powerful. But gentle too, like you, (Y/n)." Mom says and I soften. "You have his black hair, Percy, and you both share his green eyes.

Mom fishes a blue jelly bean out of her candy bag. "I wish he could see you two. He would be so proud."

I wonder how she could say that when I'm the girl who cowers from her stepfather. The girl who hides in her room to get away from said stepfather.

"How old were we?" Percy asks, pulling me from my thoughts. "I mean . . . when he left?"

Mom watches the flames. "He was only with me for one summer, Percy. Right here at this beach. This cabin."

"But . . . he knew us as babies."

"No, honey," Mom replies. "He knew I was expecting twins, but he never met you. He had to leave before you were born."

I try to square that with the fact that I seem to remember . . . something about my father. A warm glow, maybe a smile.

Percy and I had always assumed that our father had known us as babies. Mom had never said it outright, but still, I'd felt that it must be true. Now, to be told that he'd never even seen us . . .

I feel angry at my father. Maybe it is stupid, but I resent him for going on that ocean voyage, for not having the guts to marry Mom.

"Are you going to send me away again?" Percy asks. "To another boarding school?"

Mom pulls a marshmallow from the fire.

"I don't know, honey," her voice is heavy. "I think . . . I think we'll have to do something."

"Because you don't want me around?" Percy says and I flinch, avoiding both his and Mom's gazes.

I glance up to see that Mom's eyes had welled up with tears. "Oh, Percy, no. I - I have to, honey. For your own good. I have to send you away."

"But you never send her away," Percy says and I look up, eyes wide with surprise.

Mom looks at Percy, eyes wide with shock.

Finally she says, "I have to keep both of you away from each other as much as possible. I thought you'd finally be safe."

"I tried to keep you as close to me as I could," Mom says. "They told me it was a mistake. But there's only one other option, Percy, (Y/n) - the place your father wanted to send you two. And I just . . . I just can't stand to do it."

"Our father wanted us to go to a special school?" I ask.

"Not a school," Mom replies. "A summer camp."

My head spins. Why would my dad - who hadn't even stayed around to see me and Percy be born - talk to Mom about a summer camp?

"I'm sorry, (Y/n)," Mom says, seeing the look in my eyes. "But I can't talk about it. I - I couldn't send you two to that place. It might mean saying goodbye to you for good."

"For good?" Percy asks. "But if it's only a summer camp . . ."

Mom turns towards the fire, and I know from her expression, that if we asked any more questions, she would start to cry.

Word Count: 2413 words

#annabeth chase x female reader #annabeth chase x fem reader #annabeth chase x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus

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pretoriafics · 3 years

Text

Russian Roulette - Pt. 2

In this series, you will find Alternative Universe, Soulmate plot, Angst, Fluff. In this chapter, you will find: You met the creepy man from the black car, finally! But things began to get weird for you. Word count: 1.560 Pairings: Reader x Derek Original characters of this chapter: Bennie, your host mom; A weird ginger lady Warnings: English is not my main language <3 Yeah, it was based on Russian Roulette by Rihanna Russian Roulette series: Chapter One | Chapter Three RUSSIAN ROULETTE MASTERLIST TEEN WOLF MASTERLIST

You were without a sign of clues.

Well, you were pretty sure that the creepy guy who was talking with Scott and Stiles that day at the school had the answers you were asking for. However, you don't even know his name, and do this question to Scott and Stiles wasn't a viable option. They will never tell you anything about it. You have just one choice: To stay alert and watch things as close as you can.

But, you know, sometimes things happen funnily. The universe has a weird sense of humor.

You were driving through the city in the afternoon, going to get the girls from ballet, and thinking about a plan or something that you could do. Beacon Hills was a tiny city, so if you find out the name of that guy, you could look for a few pieces of information about him. Actually, you were so absorbed in your own thoughts that you just didn't saw the traffic lights become red. The car in front of you stopped, but you didn't stop the car. In fact, when you saw the red light, your eyes got wider and you stepped into the car brake. The loud sound of the tire sliding in the asphalt echoed through the entire street, and your car crashed in the back of the car in front of you.

God, you were so fucked up! You had just screwed the car of your host family! Sebastian and Barbara will be so upset with you!

Immediately, you come out of the car with your face red with anxiety and anger. How could you be so inattentive? But when you saw a man coming out of the car, the color of your face changed from red to white in fear.

You'd just hitten in a black car. A Camaro, you thought without sure. The man was that creepy guy, who you saw talking with Scott and Stiles. Oh, God. You felt your stomach fell in fear, and you froze. He will take a gun to point of you, you are pretty sure about it!

But instead of it, he just looked at you, watching you attentively. His face still looks serious.

"You okay?"

Well, at least he is a polite criminal. Which market does he work at? Is he a drug dealer? A killer? Or he's some kind of... pimp? But why Scott and Stiles would get into a deal or something like that with a pimp?

He doesn't sound like a pimp for you. Actually, he seems like a killer. Maybe he is a killer and a drug dealer...

You breathe in deeply and finally replies him.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm sorry! I don't have so much time with a driver's license. You okay?"

"I noticed that." His eyes become narrowed, and he gave you a discreet smile "Don't worry about me, I'm okay."

He looks at the damage done, and you follow his gaze. Fortunately, you stepped into the car brake soon enough to get just a little smash on both cars. Of course, your low speed helped to minimize the damage.

"Oh, God." You complain, letting out a long sigh. "Wait."

You went back to your car and took a pen and a post-it from the glove compartment. You weren't giving him your phone number just for being fair with him about the accident. It was just an excuse to, finally, find out his name. Quickly, you wrote your name with your phone number and gave the post-it for him.

"Could you give me your phone number? I'll fix your car, don't worry." He told you the numbers, slowly, and you could make the one million dollar question. "Okay. What's your name?"

"Derek Hale."

Oh my gosh, now you know his name! You would finally find out what the heck is going on.

"Alright. I'll send you a message to talk about the car. And sorry!"

Well, you were a lucky Au Pair. Your host family didn't get angry with you. Actually, they were happy you were okay and said that you don't have to worry about the car fix costs. It was great because 200 dollars per week as a salary really wasn't too much money. They just asked you to be careful while driving.

After taking a look at the girls, you ran to your room on the second floor, the last room in the corridor. Quickly, you took the laptop and begun to search on the internet about Derek. You found a piece of news, who was talking about a fire in a house. Reading that news, you found out that it was his house. Almost everybody died, except for Derek and his uncle, Peter, who is actually hospitalized in a clinic, with his whole body burnt.

Well... Maybe you were being unfair to him. It is such a sad history! But you need to continue your search. You need to prove yourself he isn't a criminal or some sort of it because, in the end, you need to protect your boys.

The next day, you were at a restaurant, lunching with Barbara, your host mom, and boss. You call her lovingly Bennie, and she was born and raised in Beacon Hills. If there's one that probably would know about Derek, that person would be her.

"So, Bennie... What about the car fixing?"

"Oh, dear, don't worry about that." She looks at you with a soft smile. "I'd talked with Hale about it. Everything is solved."

"Uh, really? That's great! And what do you know about him?"

Barbara was more than a boss. She was your friend, your second mom. And, sometimes, like every mom, she had the power to let you embarrassed. She was doing it right now, looking at you suggestively.

"Oh, you're interested in him? Why you didn't tell me before? I would talk with him about you! I don't judge you, I mean, all that bad boy kind... Wow! Don't lose this opportunity, girl!"

Bennie has the amazingly cringe-worthy manner ever: she loves to show you a few guys, telling you to call them to date. It wasn't being different now that you're asking her questions about Hale.

"Gosh, Bennie!" You laugh "Luckily Sebastian is not here."

"Well, I met Derek's mom once. He reminds me of her... You know, with all of that 'sweet' personality." Bennie gave a soft smile for you. "But she was a good person. Her name was Talia. Derek was out of the town since a few time ago but seems he came back. I didn't know about it." Bennie narrowed her eyes and gave you a large smile "And you know what? I think Talia would love to meet you!"

"Jesus Christ, Bennie, stop!" You hide your face with one of your hands, blushing while Bennie laughs about your reaction.

"You!"

A female voice came out of nowhere. A ginger woman, with a red dress, approaches you and Bennie. She seems so... Impressed. And she was looking at you.

"Can I help you?" You said, confused.

"I know what are you looking for, (Y/N)."

You froze. How did she know about your name? You had never, ever seen that woman in your entire life.

"...I'm sorry, I don't know-"

"Look for Haytham." She took a pen from her bag and wrote an address on a napkin from the table. A cold shiver ran down your spine when you noticed that her eyes were so empty and distant as a dead body's eyes. "He's a priest. But look at me, child: You are in a decisive moment of your life. You have two paths to choose from. If you continue to look for answers, you will know the truth and the truth is not what you're expecting. This truth will change your life forever, and your life will become a truly Russian roulette, girl. But if you give up on the call of Selene, and give up on your search, your life will be peaceful, but you will spend the entire life knowing that you lost something and you will never know what it is. You will look for something for the rest of your life that you know it's yours, but you will never find it. The choice is yours."

At this moment, you were so terrified, that you have cringed in the chair. Bennie was equally scared, and she was already looking around for some help. Everyone was looking at the table you were on.

Suddenly, after look at you with her dead eyes, the woman fell to the floor, unconscious. Bennie got up from the chair while everybody was looking at the woman, terrified and worried. Bennie instructed you.

"Call an ambulance!"

Terrified and with your hands shaking, you followed her ask while Bennie was watching the lady. As a doctor, Bennie could give her first aid until the ambulance comes in. But when Bennie took the woman's wrist, she contracted her lips in anxiety. Immediately, Bennie put her hands in the woman's chest and...

Oh, Gosh, she was trying to resuscitate the woman.

Bennie was doing a few chest compressions on the woman, which is obviously wasn't a good sign. After a few trying, Bennie shakes her head negatively. Nervous, you asked for her.

"She will be okay?"

Bennie contracts her lips.

"No, (Y/N). She's dead."

#teen wolf imagine #teen wolf imagines #teen wolf fanfics #teen wolf fics #teen wolf fanfic #derek hale imagine #derek hale imagines #derek hale x reader #derek hale fanfics #derek hale fanfic #derek hale x you #derek hale x y/n

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 4 years

Text

The Perfect Bad Boy (Pt. 02 of 18)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Word count: 2.5K

Summary: Working as a lifeguard in the Hawkins Community Pool, you try to fit in after moving from New York. Things were going pretty well when you notice you've been under someone's stare. Billy Hargrove, Hawkins' bad boy, has been staring at you since day one. You never intended to have anything to do with him, judging by the reputation he has. But Billy won't leave you alone, determined to show you his feelings are different this time...

As if your heart flooding you with confusing feelings wasn't enough, there are weird, strange animals lurking in the woods... But those have to be just part of the wild live of the woods surrounding Hawkins... Right?

<- Previous part (01)

Next part (03) ->

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

Car Trouble

“Are you having car trouble?” Billy asks, his eyes locked on yours.

“Judging by the smoke, yeah.” You sigh, opening the door and stepping out of the car. You avoid eye contact, looking at the light gray smoke instead.

“Pop the hood, let me check.” Doing as he says, you press the button as you sit back on the driver's seat, hoping he can actually fix whatever is wrong just so you can make it home. “Bad news.” He says after a couple of minutes.” There's nothing I can do. Not here, at least.”

“Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent.” He lets the hood fall before coming to stand by the door. “Didn't it give any signs something was wrong?”

“It has been making this funny noise since I bought it. But that was a month ago, I didn't think it would actually stop working.” Taking a deep breath, you take your bag and get out, closing the door. “I'll call the mechanics when I get home. Thanks for checking it out.” You wave at him, walking away.

“I could give you a ride home if you want.”

“I'm alright. Don't want to be a bother.”

“I wouldn't offer you a ride if you were a bother. C'mon, I'm just trying to help a co-worker.”

You stop, turning to face Billy. He doesn't have to usual cocky expression he always has. And he's right. He's just offering a ride home because your car is broken, there's nothing more. Monica and those girls are just getting under your skin, making you think too much about something that doesn't deserve much thought. “Ok then.”

“Let's go.” Billy guides you to his Camaro and you get into the passenger seat. Seconds later you're spending up through the streets, and you buckle up because he's going a little too fast for your taste. You give him your address, not really paying attention to the route he's taking. Your eyes are on the landscape outside the window, passing by in a blur.

“Do you mind if I stop to get some tacos before dropping you off?”

“No.” Shrugging your shoulders, you run a hand through your hair as he parks in a small restaurant and gets out to buy his food. As you wait, you wonder if you should tell Monica about this. If you do, you probably won't hear the end of it. But it could also snap her out of this whole mission thing. Today she was silent again, overanalyzing Billy instead of watching the pools. At least she seems to be excited about something.

A whistle gets your attention, dragging you out of your thoughts. It's Billy at the restaurant's door, gesturing for you to go there. You're a little confused when you leave the car. Did he make the order and then realized he forgot his wallet or something?

“What's up?” You ask him, crossing your arms.

“Nothing. C'mon.” Billy guides you to a table on the back, where he sits. “I ordered you some tacos too.”

What the hell. “Do you even know if I have money with me? You should've asked.”

“But I didn't, did I?” He raises an eyebrow.

Taking a deep breath, you decide not to make a big deal out of it. “Whatever,” you mumble, sitting down across from him. It's so damn obvious he's staring now. He doesn't even try to hide it. Since you're here, you could try to put a stop to this nonsense. Sorry, Mon. Your mission will be over soon. “What are you looking at?” You ask, elbows on the table, finally meeting his gaze.

“You.” He simply says, and there's no hint he'll give further explanation.

You were just about to say something when the waitress comes with your tacos. They do look good, and you're a little hungry.

“I'll get something to drink. What do you want?”

“Ice cold Coca-Cola,” you answer, watching as he gets up. You don't wait for him to come back, you just start eating. The last time you ate tacos you were in elementary school.

“Here's your drink.” He places the can down and you open it, taking a sip. “So, new girl... How do you like this dipshit place?”

“I really like it. Hawkins is exactly what I was looking for.” Billy seems a little surprised, raising his eyebrows. “What? Did you think I was dragged here? I wanted to come.”

“Can't understand why anyone would want to live here.”

“I had my reasons.” Shrugging your shoulders, a loud laugh gets your attention. It's a girl you see often in the pool. She's friends with one of those girls from the locker... The girls who were talking about Billy. “Hey. Don't you have a date today? With that Jennifer girl?” It comes back to your mind, and you burst it out. “Let's go, I can take these and eat at home.” The last thing you want is Billy being mad because giving you a ride kept him from meeting some girl. So you get up, taking the plate and the can.

“Where are you going?”

“...Home? You're taking me home now so you won't be late to be with the girl.” Why do you have to state the obvious? You doubt he'd forget about a date.

“I am with a girl. Now sit down and relax.”

If this day gets any weirder, you're calling it a night and going back home immediately. “Fine. It's your night you're ruining.” You sit back down, defeated.

“Who said my night is ruined?”

“Billy...” Leaning forward, you look into his eyes. “Whatever you're trying here, it won't work.”

“I'm not trying anything.”

Alright. Time to end this game. “I'm not the kind of girl you hang out with, ok? Put your efforts on someone hot and beautiful, don't waste your time with me.” You take another bite of the taco on your plate.

“Wait. You don't think you're hot and beautiful?” He leans forward too, pushing his empty plate away, eyes on you.

He totally got the wrong part of what you said. “I'm... Ok. I'm cute but you can aim so much higher than me.” You're not blind, so you're not immune to Billy's effect. You have to admit you stole a few glances on your first days working on the pool, but knowing his reputation, you'd never let it go further than finding him handsome. “But they say beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, so...” You're done with the tacos, and you drink what's left of your Coca-Cola.

“I wish you could see yourself through my eyes then.” Billy lowers his voice, the smirk leaving his lips as if this statement is the most important thing in the world, a fact on which the whole Earth stands.

You gasp, giggling a little. “So that's how you do it. That's what you say to get your girls.”

“No. I say very different things.” The smirk is back, and you look away for a moment. You really hope you're not blushing.

“We're both done eating. Can we go now?”

“I haven't finished my drink yet.” He gestures at is can. “You don't need to leave your guard up all the time. We're just... Two friends hanging out. No big deal.”

“So we're friends now?” He simply nods. “You don't even speak to me at work, how can we be friends?”

“I'll change that, don't worry. You don't seem to have many friends, anyway.”

“I do. Monica and her little crew.” It's actually mostly just Monica, but he doesn't have to know that. “They're nice.”

“Well, you can just add me to your list of new friends then.” Billy smiles at you, and now that you get to see it, from up close, it's so damn beautiful. There's a secret behind it, something he's hiding, and it looks like he knows you're aware of that. “What do you say?” He reaches out his hand over the table. “Try to get to know me instead of judging by what you heard.”

You hesitate for a while before shaking his hand. You won't fall for his game, so there's no problem befriending the guy. And you must admit it's a little mean to judge someone by what people say. You rather judge him by his actions. “Fine, Billy Hargrove. We can try to be friends. But that's it. Nothing else.”

“Good.”

You stay at the restaurant for another hour before he finally takes you home. Your aunt is organizing some papers, so she doesn't make many questions. She's just happy you were out with someone. And you don't really give much thought to what happened. You actually had some fun today, and since you're still struggling to fit in, you're in no position to refuse any friendship you can get.

And it was kind of Billy to offer you a ride home. You're so attached to everything you heard of him that you didn't even felt thankful for his help. If he was the asshole people say he is, he'd just leave you in the parking lot, or take you straight home. But he didn't. Billy even paid for the tacos. It's mean of you to judge the guy so harshly, before exchanging any words with him. He does sleep with a different girl every night, but they go out with him because they want to. They know he won't stick to them. But this is just something he enjoys, it doesn't mean he's a total jerk. Right? Jennifer and her friend seemed okay with a one night stand, so it's obvious he's not forcing them into it. They know it's a one-time thing.

So if you take this part away, you're left with a normal guy. So, if he's not trying to make you fall on his game, maybe his intentions aren't what you think they are. It's harmless to try and get to know him. Maybe he can become a good friend, who knows?

During the next day in the pool, you're still thinking about it. You don't really understand why you're feeling a little guilty for thinking so low of Billy. So, as you're walking back to your post and Billy is coming from his chair, to take his lunch break, you decided to talk to him.

“Billy, can I talk to you for a sec?” You say when you're close enough.

“Of course. C'mon.” He tilts his head, gesturing for you to with him back into the cafeteria. You were just going to say it right here, but since he's already walking, you just follow him. Monica gives you a meaningful stare once she notices you're following Billy. But you shake your head no, trying to tell her this is nothing.

“I'll be quick. I have to get back to my chair.” You say as he sits down on the table. “I just wanted to say thank you for yesterday. For the ride home and for the snack you bought me.”

“That's it?” He seems genuinely confused.

“Yeah...” You stand there awkwardly, watching as his lips break into a smile.

“What happened to your car?”

“It'll be ready in two days. Mon is giving me a ride until then.” Shrugging your shoulders, you start making your way out. “Well, that's it. I gotta go.”

“Keep doing the good job.” He winks at you, and you can't hold back the smile that comes to your lips.

“I will.” Turning your back at him, you go back to your chair.

•••

By the end of the day, you're sitting shotgun in Monica's car, the windows opens to let the fresh wind come in.

“I have great news.” She says, smiling.

“Let's hear it.”

“Jennifer was super mad today. Now guess why.” You exchange a glance as you think if you should tell her or not. But she's so excited about it, and Jennifer has always been mean to her... So you decide to just say it.

“Because my car wouldn't start, so Billy offered a ride home. And in the process, he stopped by this restaurant and bought me tacos.” She hits the breaks so suddenly that your heart skips a beat. “Holy shit, Monica! Are you trying to get us killed?”

“What did you just say, (Y/N)?” She's dead serious, looking at you. “Explain it. And don't hold back the details.”

She drives slower, just to give you more time. She forces you to remember everything he said, and everything you said, overanalyzing every single word. She doesn't seem too convinced that Billy just wants to be friends, going on about how he looks at you. With affection, admiration. But you don't really believe that.

“Just the fact that he was straight forward with wanting to be your friends is impressive. You gotta understand this is not usual of Billy.” She says as you walk into your house since you invited her to stay for dinner. “Believe me, I know. I wouldn't be talking about Billy with you if I wasn't utterly perplexed.”

“Who's Billy?" Your aunt asks, coming from the kitchen, an amused smile on her face.

“Good evening, Mrs. Florence," Monica says, matching your aunt's tone.

“Call me Diane, dear. And tell me about this Billy.”

“He's just a friend, aunt. He gave me a ride home yesterday.” You and Monica follow her into the kitchen, sitting on the table.

“Yesterday? You came home late yesterday.” She rests her back on the counter, looking at you. You feel like you were busted doing something wrong.

“He wanted to eat tacos so since I was with him, we just stopped by a small restaurant at the side of the road.” Shrugging your shoulders, you try to act casual. But why are you trying to act casual? It was a casual meeting.

“Did he pay?”

“Yes, but–”

“Then it was a date,” Diane states before turning around, her attention back to her current task.

You feel your cheeks burning as you exchange a glance with a smirking Monica. “It wasn't a date.” You have no idea how you could make this more clear than that. “If it was a date he would have kissed me goodnight.” You use the cliche every romance movie implements, trying to change their minds. “If that doesn't happen, it's not a date.”

“Well, say whatever you want. But tomorrow you'll be going out with me and the guys. No Billy.” Monica says, gesturing at you.

Whatever. You don't have to explain anything, and time will show them there's nothing between you and Billy. “Count me in,” you tell her, looking down at your hands for a moment. It will be good. No Billy, nobody talking about Billy for a change. It's your second week here, and it feels like it's all been about him from the start. You can't wait until people realize that everything that's ever gonna happens, if it happens, is just a friendship. Nothing more.

#imagine billy #billy stranger things #imagine billy hargrove #billy hargrove #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove fanfiction #imagine stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader

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bentnotbroken1fanfiction · 4 years

Text

It's all coming back

Steve is leaving his office, getting ready to run counts, when he gets a glimpse of a familiar face sitting at the bar. He does a double take because it's not one he ever expected to see again.

He pauses, feet stuck to the floorboards as he stares.

No way.

There's no fucking way.

He didn't hear anything about him coming back to town. None of the shit heads had mentioned him at all. And he'd like to think they would give Steve a heads up.

Apparently not.

He's about to run and hide in his office like a coward, when the man looks over and meets his gaze, lips pulling into a wide grin when he realizes it's Steve.

Fuck. That grin. Those eyes.

Billy Hargrove.

His mouth goes dry and his heart beats wildly in his chest as he's thrown right back into the past. It's like he's eighteen again, cramped in the backseat of a blue camaro, the smell of cigarettes and Cologne permeating the air around him as fingers tug on his hair. He can almost hear the breathy moans above him and taste the bitter flavor of cum on his tongue.

He's abruptly pulled from memory lane when he hears his sultry voice call out to him, "Am I dreaming or is that you, Harrington?"

He swallows and shakes the nerves from his limbs before walking along his side of the bar. "Yeah, it's me." He finds that his smile comes out a lot easier than he thought it would. "Don't cream your pants."

Billy brings the glass of dark liquor, probably his favorite whiskey, to his mouth and takes a drink. "Haven't done that since senior year." He says with a smirk. "And if I recall correctly, that was your fault."

Steve can feel the heat creeping up his chest. "Yeah, well," He shrugs.

"So, you work here, Harrington? Bartending?"

"Not exactly." He replies, and for a moment he thinks of just leaving it at that; vague. Let him think what he wants, but at the last second he decides to tell the truth, "My friend Robin and I own it."

Blue eyes sparkle with excitement. "You own the bar?"

Steve rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah."

"No shit." He leans back a bit on the stool. "That's kind of awesome, man."

"Thanks."

"I'm guessing you're the reason why it's not a shit hole anymore, then?"

Now this is a safe topic. "Yeah. We revamped it when we took ownership. Decided to make it a little more classy and a little less country bar dive."

"Looks like you made the right decision." He says, looking around. "Business good?"

"Can't complain. We definitely stay busy."

He hums in response. "How did you even get your hands on this place?"

"Well, while I was in business school I decided I didn't want to work for my father's company. He wasn't thrilled, so during my breaks I worked here to make some money and became friends with the owners granddaughter, Robin."

"The year after I graduated college he passed away and left the deed to her. She begged me to help because she had no idea how to run a business, so I went in for half. She handles the liquor and food side of the business and I do all of the paperwork. It's the perfect partnership really."

"That's quite the love story, you got there."

He doesn't reply to that, but he does ask, "So, what brings you back to town?" He's not desperate to know, but he's really curious.

The blond downs the rest of his drink. "Got divorced."

"Oh shit. Sorry, man." He hadn't even known he got married.

"Don't be." He replies, and motions the bartender to get him another drink. "We were both assholes. I didn't want kids, so she fucked my best friend slash boss, and got knocked up. And I fucked a guy behind her back, so." He shrugs.

Again Steve says, "Oh, shit."

"It is what it is." He says it like he doesn't care, but there is bitterness in his voice when he continues, "But I kinda ran the shop with him, so when it all went down, she got the house, he got the garage, and I got dropped on my ass."

"Who you staying with?"

"Max and Lucas. She felt sorry for me I guess. Offered me their spare room."

Steve had known that Max and Billy had mended fences when she went back to California for college. It's strange thinking of him living with the two lovebirds though.

"So," He breaks the short silence and leans forward on the bar, voice dropping an octave as he asks. "You got a Mrs Harrington to get home to?"

"Uh no." He laughs sheepishly, and runs a hand through his hair, "Haven't uh…found the right one. Or whatever."

Billy smiles then, an all too familiar smile. A smile that always promised bad things. Bad things that felt so good. "That so?"

His mouth waters. "Yep."

"So there's no one who'd mind if I took you for a ride?"

Steve knows he's not talking about a ride in his car. "No. Afraid not."

"Hmmm. Then what do you say, pretty boy?" And Jesus that nickname still does something to him. "Wanna have some fun? Maybe hook up for old times sake?"

And god, Steve knows this is a bad idea, it's the worst idea he's had in awhile, honestly. He had been so stupidly in love with this asshole that he'd spent a whole summer drunk off his ass because he'd skipped town without as much as a goodbye.

He hadn't even gotten a chance to tell him.

So yeah, sleeping with him would be such a dumb thing for him to do, but there's a fire coming to life inside of him that he thought had been extinguished years ago.

And fuck, Billy is as hot today as he was in high school. Maybe even more so now that he doesn't have that stupid mullet and can actually grow facial hair. Shit, he can just imagine how it would feel against the inside of his thighs.

So, yes, this is stupid, but he's absolutely, one thousand percent going to do it.

"My place isn't too far from here." He offers in reply. "I just need to finish a few things first. You can just wait here."

He lifts his glass, "You got it, boss."

Steve rolls his eyes, but he's never run through end of night counts faster in his life.

Part II

#harringrove #fanfic #billy hargrove #steve harrington #steve owns a bar #billy comes back #10 years later fic #all coming back #ten year later fic #tumblr fic

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