#it's all very foreign to billy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tac-the-unseen · 24 days

Note

I love all ur blog sm!! Can I ask abt something with the slashers (specially Thomas <3) with an foreigner!reader that don't quit speak english very well and normally forget words?

(Sorry if something is spelled wrong, English is not my native language lmao)

Absolutely, I can!

And because the request didn't specify, this fic will strictly be about speaking a foreign language.

Sorry if this is inaccurate! I'm a native English speaker and don't know many who aren't. Sorry in advance!!

Slashers x Foreigner!Reader

Micheal Myers:

•This man will act like he doesn't care but in reality he's so intrigued. (It might be why you're still alive)

•He’ll spend his time watching you practice your pronunciation and recognition patterns, like it's a movie.

•Is he a bit mean about it? Yes. Will he laugh? Probably.

•If you find yourself not knowing what certain words are and stumble around until you find the right word, You'd be surprised at how patient he is.

•If you are very new to the English language he'll secretly get you flash cards and stash them into a place he knows you'll find them

•Despite everything, if you ask him for help, he will help. He might be mute but he can write and use TV to aid you.

Billy loomis & Stu macher:

•Stu is already romanticizing your language, but instead of using the actual name of your language, he calls it “Talking pretty to me”

•Billy asks if you want any text books or study equipment to help you on your English speaking journey

•Both boys are a surprising help! Stuttering trying to articulate what you mean? They've already jumped in to, A) help save you some of the embarrassment, and B) give you time to think about what you're trying to say.

•Someone making fun of you? They're either dead or a social outcast by the end of the week.

•Are you struggling to remember a certain word? These boys are willing play charades until you figure it out. And they won't drop it either, Stu says ‘It’s bad to give up when you've already come so far.’

•Over all it's not so bad (Stu 100,000,000% uses Google translate to figure out how to say ‘i love you’ in your native language)

Thomas Hewitt:

•When both of you met, he had never met an actual foreigner before.

•He knew people travel around and occasionally some valley girl would end up in their small town, But someone from a whole different part of the world?

•His interest in you spiked the moment he heard your accent

•Thomas has so many questions but doesn't know how to ask you

•With him being mute and your struggles with English, It's not the easiest relationship. In the end both of you just end up pointing at things and making noises to get your point across.

•Absolutely loves to listen to you speak in your native language, Even if he'll never understand it.

•When he's first trying to court you, he leaves you slightly damaged flowers (he struggled to pick them) to communicate his affection.

•even with a language barrier, he's gonna love you like no one ever could

Bubba Sawyer:

•He had no idea people outside of America existed

•When You fell into the palm of Texas and his brothers found you failing to remember the word for your favorite snack, They knew you would be an easy target.

•When they kidnapped you and brought you to the basement so Bubba could chop you up, he was fascinated by the way you desperately tried to beg him not to kill you.

•It ended in a huge fight in the family, But he got everyone to let you live a bit longer.

•Sits Criss Cross applesauce while you speak for your life. You could babble about anything and he would listen intently.

•He pulls out his alphabet soup machine and spends hours typing with you. (You help him finally get past the clown level)

Bo Sinclair:

•absolute meanie, stinky poopy head about it >:(

•will mock your stutters and say stuff like “Oh come ON! The word is Cat! C. A. T. CAT! What's so hard about that?”

•If you speak your native language around him, He thinks you're insulting him or intentionally hiding something.

•”If you could say it to my face in your language you can say it to my face again in mine!”

•The same sentiment is not shared when it involves bedroom fun

•Will eventually apologize, But that's going to take a while

Vincent Sinclair:

•As another non-speaking fellow he takes his time to make sure you two can understand each other

•He’ll mostly use body language and and little doodles to get his point across

•Stuttering over a word? He doesn't care, he'll let you work it out without any judgment!

•Want his help? He has several books, Vincent will just pull out a book he knows as the word in it, flipped to the page, and point at the word.

•Love listening to you talk, In English or not. He'll happily let you yap his ear off.

Lester Sinclair:

•Poor boy was lovestruck when he first heard you talk!

•Full on heart eyes while you explain where you're from and how you ended up here

•If you end up fumbling on a word he'll start shouting out potential words for what you're trying to say.

•Example: “and then I had too…uh…um..” “Run? Pee? Eat? Were you hungry? Are you hungry right now?”

•So helpful, I know

•But the guy is already googling restaurants based off your native cuisine. He's got the date set up.

•”It's no biggie, I'm a native English speaker and I still can't get it right!”

Billy Lenz:

•Billy 100% understands the struggle of finding the right word to say

•He can't stop stuttering himself, so when you start stuttering you kind of reinforce us in his brain that you were meant to be together

•He feels like he can bond with you over it, and even feel safer around you knowing that you also mess up

•the thing is if you start stuttering, he'll start stuttering. If you can't get it by God he will.

•”W-we can't bo-oth be wrong.”

Brahms Heelshire:

•this man will 100% try to learn your language as soon as he finds out you're a foreigner

•That man has a huge library, there's bound to be at least one book written in your mother tongue

•He spends a lot of time practicing your native language so he can speak to you more comfortably

•You already know he has children's learning books he'll pull out if you ask.

•Can't find the word you're looking for? He's already 10 books deep, he'll find it for you.

•Brahms is a well-educated man and he intends to use His years of learning to help

•If you want to take classes to better your English skills he will 100,000% throw money your way to do so.

Hannibal Lecter:

•Now Hannibal really understands

•He's a Lithuanian who learned English as a 10 year old

•He didn't struggle as much, But for the first couple of months you bet he was stumbling.

•If you're struggling with a word, He has a process of teaching you so you don't forget it again.

1) Identify what you're trying to say

2)Slowly begin to sound out the word

3)Have you recite the word a few times

4)He'll either teaches you a little tune to remember or he'll do something so you remember the moment

•Does it feel a little condescending? Yes. But it works

•He's also willing to pour an ungodly amount of money into your English education if you ask

•He'll even teach you himself in his spare time

Will Graham:

•Doesn't really know what to do, He's a bit awkward about it

•He'll also identify the word and repeat it a few times so you can get a better handle on it.

•He thinks it's a bit funny and a bit cute when you stutter or mispronounce something

•He will gently correct you and move on like nothing happened

The Lost Boys:

•holy fucking shit this is a cluster fuck, let's do this one by one

•David

-David, having been around a while, has picked up a couple languages.

-If he does know the language you're speaking he'll speak it back to you and guide you into English better than the other boys could

-If not, he'll just read your mind and tell you what you're trying to say. It's by far the easiest way to articulate what you mean.

•Dwayne

-Dwayne being just slightly younger than David has also picked up a couple languages

-It's really the same if he does know your language But with a little more verbal teaching

-If he doesn't he'll patiently wait until you figure out what you're trying to say.

•Paul

-as soon as you start to stutter over yourself Paul starts shotgunning words off

-some slightly related to the situation and others wildly out there

-”Drink? Food? Ocean? Horse? The unforgiving eyes of God and His kingdom???”

-he'll do this to confuse you and have a nice laugh

•Marko

-Marko speaks English and Italian, so if your language isn't one of those two you're kind of shit out of luck

-”Come on babe, you'll get it”

-He finds it a bit funny but still tries to help in little ways

Thanks for reading <3

Sorry if this seems hastily written together, I haven't had the request in a while so I kind of jumped at the opportunity.

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thebadboyfanclub · 1 year

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The Man You Deserve (Aegon x Reader)

This was requested by @ksuumin : Okay, I have one!! Aegon is heavily drinking and is found by his betrothed, she takes him back to the red Keep and gives him a bath, during the bath he has a slight mental breakdown and she comforts him and is all fluffy. Enjoy, this was so fun to write btw

I would suggest listening to “everything I wanted” by billie relish or “line without a hook”

When (y/n) Hightower was informed that she would be wed to prince Aegon she almost passed out, she was set to travel to kings landing and meet with her cousin Queen Alicent, she hadn’t seen her cousin since princess Rhaenyras wedding.

When she arrived at the Keep she was greeted by a warm hug from the Queen and cousin Alicent who kept apologising for her son Aegon not being here to welcome her. (Y/n) smiled politely and nodded even though she was close to crying, her instinct kept warning her about her future marriage.

She had heard stories about her betroth, how prince Aegon spend most of his time at the Silk Road and hydrated with wine instead of water, a future with a lord husband that had those kind of habits was unstable and frightening to her, yet she put on a brave face and appeared unfazed but at night she would kneel in front of the candles and pray to mother for a happy marriage.

“What seems to be the problem?”

She questioned the young lady that stood in front of her. The girl did not meet (y/n)s gaze, she instead chose to look at her feet while her hands were clasped behind her back.

“Prince Aegon seems to be missing, he hasn’t been seen since he broke his fast on the morrow”

“Does the queen know about this?”

“Not yet my lady, Ser Criston has yet to decide if they should send guards to search for him”

“Very well, thank you for your information elina”

Before she could let her thoughts eat her alive, she ran outside her room to meet her sworn guard

“Ser Helias, show me the way to kings landing”

“My lady, you are not allowed to leave the keep at such late hour”

“You are sworn to me are you not? We must find my betroth before Ser Criston gets a hold of him”

The long legged man hesitated before he scoffed and nodded. (Y/n) smiled even if the guard did not whole heartedly agreed to this. As they got past the main gate it didn’t take long to find prince Aegon passed out just few meters away from the Red keep.

“Is he alive?”

(Y/n) asked the guard. As the man leaned into the passed out Aegon he placed his hand underneath the Princes nose for a minute.

“He is breathing”

“Very well, give me a hand”

As she grabbed Aegon by his one arm her guard grabbed the other and lifted him up in unison, their pull resulted in earning a grunt from the clearly intoxicated and rather smelly prince.

“Am I dead?”

“Unfortunately not my prince”

She couldn’t hold the sour comment any longer, she had grown tired of his antics on the other hand the situation of having to search for him brought her a new wave of anxiety for his safety.

“(Y/n)? What are you doing?”

“Carrying you”

She responded shortly. Aegon tried to open his eyes and look in her direction, seeing her lips pursed and her eyebrows scrunched together as she held on to him and mildly grunt under his weight made the feeling of embarrassment grow as it slowly took over his entire body.

He had attempted to remain sober in her presence, firstly to avoid the scoldings of his mother, second was that he did not wish for her to see him like this, drunk and dirty. She was his betroth, the woman that would eventually carry his children, the lady that would accompany him until the end of their days, that new sense of responsibility was foreign to him, how could he grow up to step up as a good husband and father when he didn’t have a good example of it?He had already failed before they even got to the wedding ceremony.

The walk back to the keep was not long still it was far enough for (y/n) to start huffing and puffing, she wasn’t a woman of petite frame moreover carrying a man up countless of stairs was an activity she was not prepared for. As they approached her chamber of Aegon (y/n) instructed her guard to stay outside, fortunately she was still capable to prepare a bath for the prince and with hesitation she stripped him off his clothes.

“I never thought this would be the way you would see me naked sweet (y/n)”

“Hush now, don’t make this worst than it already is”

She shot him down, her irritation clear as day in her tone, he could almost see the anger radiating off of her though oddly enough her touch was careful and gentle. She made sure to carefully assist him to step in the tub and even ask him if the water is warm enough for his liking.

Aegon observed her as she picked up a sponge and kneeled next to the tub in order to clean him properly all while the silence between them was comforting, this was the most genuine affection Aegon got in years, as the sponge glided on his body he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch as much as he could.

“Do you hate me?”

He spontaneously inquired before he gulped, anticipating a positive answer like he always got. (Y/n)s movement came to a halt as she was caught off guard by the topic of his question. She let out a deep breath before (y/n) regained her composure and kept on with her task.

“I do not loathe you my prince, I’m afraid my feelings for you are more complexed than that”

She explained with a voice so sweet he wished he could put it in a bottle and drink it. He turned to look at her, making a slight motion at the water as some escaped and fell on the ground, he gripped on the white tub like a small kid and eyeballed her like a small child. She smiled at the sight of him, (y/n) had never seen him so vulnerable, so true.

“Explain then”

“How could I explain… I believe you choose to self soothe and numb yourself with alcohol in order to avoid your emotions, from what I have observed you had to grow up in an environment where others expected you to be as wise, poised and skilled as an old maester, warrior and king before you even made your first step”

(Y/n) expressed her opinion and as they beheld one another (y/n) started to notice Aegons eyes fill with tears. She was shocked for a moment before she reached for his cheek, a touch that Aegon accepted and didn’t know he needed until he felt the warmth of her flesh on his.

“It’s alright Aegon, you can confide in me”

With that Aegon bursted into a full crying fest, as his entire body shook from the sobs and tears washed over his face, he was crying loudly and the emotion was so raw that anyone with a heartbeat would crumble at the scene that was painted.

(y/n) could not sit still, it was like watching a wounded animal mourn, yet there was no bleeding on the outside even though (y/n) was sure his souls was scattered in pieces, making him bleed internally for all these years.

(Y/n) got on her feet and placed her hands on his arms so she can pull him up, wrapping his lower body with a white towel before guiding him to his bed. Aegon kept crying even when his body hit the soft mattress, his hands covering his face to prevent her from seeing him like this, her words had such impact on him that he could not control himself, he just cried and cried to the point that even breathing was hard.

(Y/n) did not pressure him to put on any clothing on him, she let him keep the towel as she simply lifted the sheets and covered him, making sure his head laid comfortably on the pillows as he cried. She had observed him for days, she could always detect the sadness and pain he felt almost every day, such tragedy that (y/n) wanted to steal away from him, eat the darkness so he can finally breathe freely.

As Aegon let his emotions show he felt a pair of arms wrap around him and get close, he was being embraced, her hug was like a breath after staying underwater for so long, her presence was better than milk of the poppy, her scent was more pleasant than any flower, (y/n) was his fate, his sanctuary.

Immediately Aegon brought her as close as humanly possible, (y/n) remained silent and stoic as she felt every hiccup, every sob, she imagined this what it would feel if she was a rock while the waves of the ocean smacked it, a violent act that was not intended to harm her yet it cut deep. She wanted to do more even though this was for the best, he needed to let his sadness flow, like a cathartic ritual a cleanse of every emotional burden he was holding.

“Do you feel better Aegon?”

He gradually calmed down while (y/n) patiently waited for him to settle down, she brushed his blonde hair in a way to help him come down of his breakdown. He clung onto her with all the strength he could gather until he stopped sobbing all together, he looked up at her with bloodshot eyes and a puffy face, (y/n)s heart clenched at the sight of him, the damaged prince that was just a big child whom yearned for affection, for love.

“I’m sorry”

“Do not apologise, we are to be wed, what kind of lady wife would I be if I left you at such a vulnerable moment?”

Her kind smile brought him such comfort, he finally understood what it meant to have a partner…. A home even.

“I want us to be happy my love”

“Then you must try, do you promise to try for me? For us?”

It almost sounded like (y/n) begged, if you asked her she would say that she was. This was a small ray of sunshine for a bright future, she must grab the new opportunity and hold on to it with all her might. Aegon raised up a little to be at the same eye level as her, his fingers gracing her cheek in such tenderness, it was like he was afraid that she would float away if he reached for her, like a dream that he would soon be rudely awakened by.

“I swear it on the gods, I will become the man you deserve”

Requests are open!

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myfandomprompts · 5 months

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Hey, I saw you did what Ewan's characters would be like with a girl daughter. And I admit that my curiosity was: What would each of Ewan's characters react to an unexpected pregnancy? Or announcement of a pregnancy

Or, opening new horizons, what would each person's relationship be like with their wife/girlfriend when they were pregnant? (if you want to use the reader for this part)

(I'm sorry if you're not accepting requests or something)

Hi! Thank you for the ask and it's truly okay and wonderful!

Headcanons: How would EwanVerse characters react to unexpected pregnancy?

Abraham

He hadn't even planned to stay with you, his only focus was on earning his place among the gypsies. Yes, he lied to himself about liking you, about being obsessed even, but at least he had managed to keep his emotions at bay. Until now. When he learns of your pregnancy, he gets mad, takes time for himself to think. Then he sees how miserable he had made you and his turmoil quickly turns into guilt. He can't stay away from you for long, let alone hurt you. You could be together after all, happy, and hell, that baby is his. What other beautiful manner to make his claim on you is there?

Aemond

War was raging, and he took you as his companion because he could, because as Prince Regent, no one will dare say a word against it. He had needs, impulses both of sinful nature and quiet affection, and you were meeting each of them perfectly. But when you don't bleed for two moons, he finally realises why he chose you, why he didn't 't care about being careful: he wanted you for himself, and having you round with his child would be the ultimate prize. You and the baby would be untouchable.

Billy Taylor

He feared it was going to happen. He had heard the stories so many times : people around with too much passion which caused unexpected things to happen ruined their lives, even reputations. It had scared him as much as elated him when he got to be with you, to touch you everywhere. And now, with the news of you pregnancy and amidst thinking of a way to tell his mother, he finds out that he would do it all again, thousand times over if life allowed it. He would be so very happy with your child.

Billy Washington

He wasn't supposed to have met with you again, or even to hook up. You, the ex he had a hard time forgetting about. But he guesses that once you harbour feelings for someone, it never really goes away. When you tell him, he is awestruck, not believing it, even asking you if it's his. It takes weeks for him to wrap his head around it, thinking what the hell he's going to do then he decides. Decides that he was delusional thinking he could live without you for a while, and that he won't let you go again. He never stopped loving you, and that baby will make everything right.

Ettore

You're just his neighbour, the only one who gets him, who sees him for what he is. He actually doesn't care about what people think of him, or what you think about him. Or maybe just a little. But he likes how you let him do things to you others wouldn't. When you tell him, he stays silent for a while, expressionless. "So?" he tells you, and when you slam the door in his face, he tries to convinced himself that he doesn't care. But in truth he can't stop thinking about it. About what it would feel like to have something as... precious with someone. How foreign it seems to him.

Genyen

He doesn't understand: you said you were fine with him being "just a friend", that you didn't want more, and it suited him fine. So why were you telling him that now? He can't do anything for you, he has nothing, even if he would like to. He would, truly, he finds himself thinking, provide for you if he could, for the baby. But it's the way you look at him with those shiny eyes and a hand on your belly that make him abandon any idea of disappearing on you. He'll stay, whatever you say he is to you.

Michael Gavey

He is euphoric. You're the girl of his dreams, and it seems surreal. He can give you everything you want, provide for you like you've never been cared for before, you don't need to be anxious about it all. He reassures you at once, already scheduling how you'll manage to graduate and have a beautiful baby at the same time, your baby. He won't ever let you go, and is already planning for the second one.

Osferth

You're the lady he can't believe he has, and when you announce that you're carrying his child, he can't help but feel guilty. He has promised himself never to sire a child, a bastard's bastard, and now he had brought shame on you. You would have been better without him, really, better with someone worthy of you. If only he had been more careful. What if you died in labour? What if the baby died? It's with those dark thoughts that he snaps out of it and decides that he will look after you until then. He will pray for you and the baby, be there for the both of you until life takes him.

Tom Bennett

He isn't even surprised, you're his girl after all. It's not like he had planned it, but it was bound to happen at some point. Deep down, Tom is a family man, always taking care of his folks, a fact he is finally brutally made aware of when you tell him the news and a warm feeling fills his chest. Now he just have to find a way to get you a ring. Maybe he'll have to steal it?

Will

It wasn't supposed to happen. You were supposed to get sick of him like everybody eventually did, and he was supposed to remain detached. But then here you are, saying you want to keep it and he allows himself to hope. Hope that maybe you truly love him, that maybe he'll finally have something of his own, something to share with you. Maybe he'll be able to let his guard down, like he always longed to. With this news, he felt like he wouldn't be hurt anymore.

I excluded Hoodie, Jack, Jason & Poacher.

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marvelsswansong · 2 years

Text

I could be your new spring

summary: you spend an entire year doting after Billy Hargrove, who toys with and eventually breaks your heart. You're sobbing by yourself on a cold spring day when someone coughs and awkwardly offers you his jean jacket - it's Eddie Munson, staring at you with such foreign yet genuine warmth.

"I wasted an entire year on him, Eddie. One whole year I'll never get back." "I could be your new spring, if you'd like."

tags: Eddie x fem!reader, toxic and complete asshole Billy x fem!reader, best friends Robin/Nancy/Steve, hurt to comfort, heavy angst, fluff towards the end, happy ending dw, oneshot

☆ word count: 5.3K+ (whew) ☆

-> a/n: read this as a submitted ask on another writer's account and I knew I had to write it! I hope you angels enjoy <;3 Reader's discretion is advised that Billy is really mean in this and treats reader very poorly.

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

Spring in Hawkins was cold, but nothing was colder than Billy Hargrove.

He'd strolled into Hawkins High with his slicked back hair and ocean scented cologne on the first week of August, and the moment he'd picked up a book you'd dropped and winked at you - you were never the same again.

Steve didn't like him from the outset. Your best friend was quick to pull you backwards from Billy the moment the blonde boy winked at you, shooting you a worried glance and warning you that he didn't like "the look of the new guy." Nancy had muttered agreements behind him, and normally, you would've listened to your friends in a heartbeat.

But you were instantly entranced. Billy was awfully charming. Cocky, the type to know that he was handsome and to exploit it. He walked with a certain city swagger, one which only a surfer boy from California could carry, the musk of sandalwood and salty sea water emanating from his copious jackets. You were far too shy to speak to him properly - particularly when crowds of popular girls and boys followed his every move - so you got accustomed to admiring his features from afar.

Steve pretended to hurl a few weeks later into the first semester when you'd confessed on a late night drive that the new kid from California had caught your eye. Your best friend's eyes widened in shock, irises burning with disgust as he looked over from the steering wheel.

"You know as your best friend I support all your decisions but Hargrove?" he spat out, his face scrunched up. "That asshole has two brain cells, max."

You rolled your eyes playfully, kicking your legs up on the dashboard.

"Of course you wouldn't like him, Steve. People are saying he might be coming for your 'crown' as the King of Hawkins High." you teased, poking him in the shoulder. That made his lips twist into a scowl, though his sour expression quickly melted into a soft grin when looking back over at you.

"Well, whatever the case, he's bad news. Just stay away, okay?"

He muttered it so tenderly as he pulled over in front of your house, speaking to you the same way he spoke to the kids when trying to protect them. Smiling, you waved his concerns off, slinging your backpack over your shoulder.

"Relax, Steve, it's just a puppy crush. I'll be fine."

And it probably would've been, had the seating chart for your biology class not been shifted the Monday after. On top of that, a new group assignment was on the agenda. You were jittery with pure anxiety when you'd walked into the classroom that day to see Billy sitting next to the spot you usually sat, his name written in cursive next to yours on the blackboard.

"Joanne, right?" he'd asked you, casting you the briefest glance out of the corner of his eyes.

"No, uh... my name's (Y/n)." you'd meekly corrected, bag slowly dropping to the floor as you refused to even match his gaze.

Billy paused then, eyes shifting to look you up and down before a smirk slowly appeared on his face.

You didn't know it at the time, but he'd been subtledly watching you. Sure, he'd already slept with a good amount of girls - girls more popular than you, girls who were outgoing and loud... Cheerleaders, class presidents, varsity athletes of the sort. It was good for status and for one night stands, but they reminded him too much of the girls in California.

A bit ditzy. Vapid. Superficial. Annoying as soon as the sex was over and the type to want him to 'hang' around afterwards and be domestic. It disgusted him - Billy Hargrove did not do domestic.

But you...

At first, he'd written you off as Steve's little friend. The quiet loser who was gifted the seat at the popular table because you and Steve had grown up with houses right next to each other's. He couldn't lie, a part of your appeal was how much Steve kept you close, eager to keep you away from Billy's reach.

But a bigger part of your appeal, Billy thought, was how different you were from the other girls who fawned over him. Whilst they would dress up and scream loudly for his attention during basketball games, you'd sit by yourself to the side with another girl - Billy believed her name was Robin - with a book and a shy smile on your face.

And whilst other girls tried to seduce and sweet talk him at every party, you stood by your friends, conservatively taking sips from your red solo cup and avoiding Billy like the plague.

You didn't seek attention. You were a good girl, Billy noticed, the type that his father would scream at for him to find: quiet, dutiful, submissive. Gets all the homework done on time, volunteers at an animal shelter every weekend, plays the 'sober driver' for your friends on most night outs.

You're different, and to Billy, it feels like a challenge. A conquest to be won. Getting to piss off 'the hair' is just the cherry on top.

"...Is everything alright?" you meekly asked, noticing that he was just staring at you absentmindedly, not uttering a single word. Billy shook his thoughts away, a devious idea popping into his mind. He was going to toy with you - his little lamb - and you would be none the wiser.

"Everything's perfect. Just peachy, doll."

Becoming Billy's biology partner meant seeing him every two days. He reeled you in slowly during those boring lectures. He'd ask you nonsensical questions, just to get you talking and to have you move closer towards him when he'd complain not being able to read your notes. He'd purposefully mess up the experiments so you two would have to stay after class, your hands shaking as they guided his towards the correct vial.

The regular classes also gave him an excuse to pry into your life. Your hobbies, your friends, your likes and dislikes... The faux interest and 'small talk' stage of love, laid out one by one. He was toying with you and you were oblivious to it all, following dutifully behind him like a puppy.

"You're so different from most other girls here." Billy once said, running a hand through his hair. "You're so... Hawkins-esque."

Your pen paused mid-scrawl, eyes hesitantly peering up at the blonde boy with trepidation.

"Is that a... good thing? Or not?"

You were staring at him with so much hope, doe eyes overwhelming with unadulterated innocence that it made his gut churn with nausea.

"It's a good thing." he'd responded. And the moment you flashed him a brilliant smile in response, giggling softly under your breath, he knew you were hooked.

Hook, slink, reel.

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

The end of summer came soon enough, also marking the end of the biology project. And as soon as the project was turned in, Billy went back to ignoring you. He dodged your friendly waves and greetings in the hallways, made it a point to sit as far away from you in class. You didn't think too much of it, wholly convinced that he was just busy preparing for the upcoming basketball championships.

Your friends weren't as convinced, with Nancy tapping your shoulder impatiently as you moped around your locker one chilly autumn day whilst hoping to catch a glimpse of Billy before third period.

"I don't think you should be hanging around Billy so much." she'd gently pleaded, lightly pulling at your lower arm.

"Hm?" you weren't really paying attention to her, head far too preoccupied with thoughts of Billy and his gorgeous head of curls.

"Billy Hargrove. He's an awful person, he's been taking advantage of you." she muttered quietly, gently smoothing over your hair.

Suppressing a sigh, you closed your locker shut and forced on a smile.

"I get why you and Steve think that Billy's an awful person but he's different around me, okay? Like when we're together, he's actually kind of nice to me." you breathed out, unsure if you were trying to convince your friend or yourself. "And yeah, maybe we're not talking all the time anymore, but... sometimes people are busy, okay, Nance?"

A look of pity spread across her face and you could feel the impending speech rolling in, making you throw your hands up to stop her.

"It's fine, okay? Just drop it."

She opened her mouth to argue but you were already walking away from her, heels frantically clicking against the floor.

And just as you were giving up hope, you were leaning against your car - red orange leaves scattered across the driveway, the smell of rain soaked grass tinting the autumn air - and Billy was back to winking at you in the hallways and asking you to tutor him after school.

He always arrived late and sometimes never even showed up (giving you vague apologies the next session), but you never minded. Especially not when he'd slouch in his seat, roll up the cuffs of his sleeves to expose his biceps and shoot you that charismatic wink.

"You're real smart, you know that? I could never get my fucking head around math." he'd once said, speaking up to the ceiling. Heat crept onto your cheeks at his compliment, butterflies fluttering in your abdomen.

"Thanks, Billy. I don't know, it's just... I work hard, I think that's it."

He hummed quietly, left hand reaching into his back pocket for a cigarette and a lighter, the sight of which immediately made you tense.

"Uh, I don't think we're allowed to smoke in here-"

Holding up his pointer finger to shush you, he lit the cigarette quickly before inhaling deeply, a slow exhale of toxic smoke being released from his wet lips.

"Relax, babygirl. We won't get caught."

All arguments died in your mouth when the word 'babygirl' reached your ears, a fuzzy haze settling over your confused mind. Billy noticed with an internal smirk that the nickname clearly got you flustered as you quickly uncrossed your legs under your skirt and began to stutter awkwardly, attempting to get back to the lesson at hand.

You were just too easy to control, he thought. Shy, goody two shoes, innocent disposition - on top of fierce loyalty that meant you'd never question him.

The perfect toy.

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

By the time winter had begun to descend onto the town - blankets of white snow covering the grey pavement and barren trees lining the roads - it was undeniable. You were utterly, totally infatuated with Billy Hargrove.

It was the week before winter break when you were flicking snowflakes off from your jacket, shuddering in the cold before a familiar car rolled to a stop before you. It was Billy, lowering his window and asking you if you wanted a ride back home.

"I'm on my way to the mall, so as long as your house is that way-"

"Oh actually it isn't-"

"Great, then you can just walk from the mall. Now get in."

You shrugged, figuring that it would beat walking the extra fifteen minutes on foot in this freezing cold. Strapping yourself into the front seat, there was an awkward silence that hung in the air before you worked up the nerves to ask him the question that'd been plaguging your mind.

"Are you staying in Hawkins for the winter break?"

The truth was that the thought of not being able to see him for weeks on end over the winter break made your stomach twist with discomfort and sadness, even if the company Billy currently gave you was questionable. Weeks alternated between him doting over you, following you around and calling you sweet names, and then weeks of him ignoring or slyly insulting you in front of his friends.

It was incredibly confusing and frustrating. But there had to be something behind it all, you reasoned. Why you were the only girl that Billy kept around for the entirety of the school year.

At your sudden question, Billy pulled over his car, an unreadable expression on his face as he gave you an unceremonious shrug.

"Not sure. Why'd you ask?"

The seatbelt around your body suddenly felt too tight, the winter coldness seeping in through the heat being blasted in the car.

"I was just wondering if... you know, you're going to be around here in town we can like... hang out? I'll be working part-time at a cafe but other than that I'm quite fr-"

"Yeah, yeah, sounds great, babe." he dismissed you with a quick wave, but you were content so long as he called you babe.

His heart twisted with erotic satisfaction with the way you flashed him that hopeful smile, so kind and trusting, before you kissed his cheek and hopped out of the car.

You ended only seeing him once during the break: it was a complete accident too, not that you noticed. Him and his friends just happened to stroll into the cafe you worked at and you perked up immediately, all gloomy thoughts being washed away in an instant. He'd flashed you that charming smile, apologized for not calling - "things are crazy busy back home, you know?" - and you accepted it.

"Anyways, can I get these for free?" he'd asked, holding up a few bags of pastries up in the air.

"Sure."

Robin had watched the entire interaction play out from the back of the store and was quick to approach you as soon as they left.

"What did that asshole want?" she growled, side eyeing the direction where Billy had just left. You frowned at that as you re-adjusted your apron.

"You really have to stop calling him that, Robin."

"Why? He's the biggest asshole this town's ever fucking seen. (Y/n), he's been doing nothing but toying with you - treating you hot and cold, all over the place." she pleaded, following you around the store as you attempted to dodge the conversation. Noticing your silence and stern straightforward gaze, she sighed, cutting your footsteps off by standing in front of you. "I'm - Nancy and Steve too - worried about you. Billy's been nothing but horrible to you for almost two semesters straight and you still haven't cut him off-"

Robin jumped at the sudden loud sound you made when you slammed your serving tray down onto a nearby table, a shaky breath leaving your lips before you slowly re-composed yourself. You didn't even bother to look up at your best friend as you gathered up the stack of dirty plates.

"None of you have any idea what's actually going on. I get that you all worry, and I'm grateful that you all care, but this is between me and Billy, okay? There are just some things you three can't understand because you're just looking in from the outside." you hurriedly explained, anger bubbling to the top. "I just, I need-"

An uneasy sigh escaped your lips.

"I need you all to support me instead of fighting me all the time on things like this. Please."

Robin looked like she wanted to say more, hands clenched by her sides. But one hopeless look from you and she caved, shutting her mouth.

"Alright, fine. Just... be careful, okay?"

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

It takes until spring time for you to finally see the truth.

All the memories of your friends warning you about Billy throughout the year now play like a broken record in your head. You're leaning against the chipped wooden wall of a huge surburban house, your frantic breaths coming out in white whisps of air.

It was a house party. You'd come along at the request of Steve and Robin but quickly lost sight of them when you saw Billy smoking with a few of his basketball friends by the balcony. All thoughts of having a great night by your best friends dissipated at the glorious sight of him sitting there, legs spread, his lips toying with the lit cigarette.

"I'll catch you guys around, okay?" you'd yelled over the music, pushing through the crowd before either of them could protest. Wiping your palms on your jeans, you carefully trodded towards the group of boys, feeling Billy's friends all turn their judgmental gazes at you.

"Hi Billy." you managed to whisper. He shot you half a glance, an amused smirk on his face which you mistook for genuine interest.

"Hey."

He turned around to continue his conversation with his friends, making your shoulders deflate in disappointment. You'd been after him for almost a year now and he couldn't even spare you more than one word? Suddenly feeling brave, you tapped on his shoulder again, to which he audibly groaned.

"Why the fuck are you still bothering me?" he spat out, eyes blazing with anger. It hit you then all at once, how you were never anything but gentle and kind with him, but he was at times so... unnecessarily cruel and mean.

"Why... why are you being so mean to me?"

The question slipped out of your mouth instinctively, unconsciously. The loud chatter amongst the basketball players stopped and Billy's posture shifted, his expression morphing from one of boredom and annoyance to... pure evil. He let out a long chuckle, blonde trussels of hair covering his eyes as his head shook with laughter.

"God, are you that fucking dense?" he growled, stubbing his lit cigarette against an ashtray.

He sounded angry. No, furious. His entire body was tense and your first instinct was to comfort him, one hand reaching out to him. But he was quick to grab you by the forearm and back you up against the wall, the loud house music now muted in your ears.

"You still don't get it, do you? What, I call you 'babygirl' and 'babe' a few times and hang out with you after school and you think I'm gonna get on one knee and propose? Huh? Think I’d go home with you to meet mommy and daddy?"

His friends bursted out into a chorus of obnoxious laughter at that comment, Billy's ego on fire as he leaned in even closer. At this proximity, you could count the freckles dotting his cheeks and smell the stench of cigarattes on his lips.

"Listen. You’re just a brainless slut who needs to learn her place. Maybe when you learn to shut up-" he growled, pausing ever so slightly to look down at your top. "Then I’ll fuck you, like the charity case you are."

He shoved off of you after that, hands already turning to his back pocket to light another cigarette.

"Now piss off."

And here you are now.

You don't really know how you managed to get out of that room - feet stumbling, chest heavy, heart crumbling in between pained gasps. What you do know is that the freezing winds clawing at your exposed skin feel like nothing compared to the crushing weight you feel on your chest.

Your legs practically give out from pure exhaustion and you fall down onto the front steps of the porch, head immediately falling to your knees.

You feel pathetic. You feel embarrassed. You feel angry.

And yet, above all, you feel heartbroken.

You can practically hear your best friends' responses in the back of your mind - "see, we told you!""you should've listened to us!". They're right, of course. They were right all along.

But the last thing you want right now is a lecture.

So even if walking back inside and finding Robin and Steve is the smart thing to do, you decide against it, gritting your teeth. It's freezing out here, sure, but you much prefer it to the sweltering, body to body heat of the house party raging inside.

You're not even sure how much time passes before you feel someone else's presence behind you. Your head is still in your lap, tears falling faster than rain, shaky hands grasping and ungrasping your knees in discomfort.

The figure awkwardly clears their throat, making you flinch and pick your head up. Your first immediate thought is that it's Billy, coming to take a victory lap and make you feel worse.

But it's not.

It's Eddie Munson. Infamous repeat senior and D&D enthusiast. You've shared, at most, two classes with him: but you always sat in the front and he always sat in the back, loitering and doodling into his notebooks. You know of him, but you've never really spoken to him.

Nonetheless, right now, he's standing in front of you, holding his hands up in a mock surrender.

"Relax, it's just me." He then lowers his hands ever so slightly, before moving to take off his jacket. "It's super cold out here, could I, uh-"

He gestures with his hands, indicating that he wants to know if it's okay to drape the fabric over your exposed shoulders. You nod slowly, the warmth in his eyes too fierce to decline. It feels foreign, you think, having someone look at you like that when Billy's never looked at you with any warmth.

Eddie grins at your response, moving to sit down next to you on the steps before carefully wrapping the jacket over your figure.

Warmth floods your body - much needed warmth - and you subconsciously find yourself burrowing further into the fabric. It carries a comforting, earthy smell: a mix of rain soaked dirt, fresh wood and a bit of weed. The weight's also nice against your shoulders, grounding you back towards reality.

"Thank you." you quietly mutter, cautiously peering up at his face. You don't really know what he's feeling - is it pity? Is it another prank? Is he out here to smoke and you just happened to be in the way? But he simply leans back, ring clad hands waving away your concerns.

"Nah, it's nothing. Least I can do, when this shithole town plunges into fucking Siberian winter every spring."

His joke makes you laugh a bit, tension loosening from your chest. He's practically a stranger to you but there's an inviting aura around him, a calm energy bubbling under the surface that makes you lower all your inhibitions.

It also helps, you suppose, that he's actually really attractive. Up close, you can survey his features much better under the dim house light hanging above. His well sculpted jawline, doe brown eyes, his slender fingers clanking with metal accessories as he runs a hand through his curly dark hair.

"So, uh... I know this is a dumb question but are you okay? I mean, relatively." he lamely adds, wincing at how he ends his question. Your eyes widen in alarm.

"D-did you see-"

"Billy fucking Hargrove being his usual douchebag self? Yeah." he counters, venom dripping from his voice. You bite your tongue, anxious at the prospect of having so many people witnessed that humiliating scene, which the metalhead seems to pick up on immediately. "But don't worry, not many people were looking. I just happened to be passing by. Promise."

He holds out a pinkie finger towards you, a boyish smile on his face. The gesture is kind of silly and immature, but his childlike joy is so contagious that you can't fault him for it, carefully wrapping your finger around his.

"I just... god, I feeling really fucking stupid right now." you confess, groaning into your hands. He clicks his tongue at that, raising his eyebrows.

"Miss straight A's, stupid? I hardly think so."

Lifting your head from your palms, you pause. Maybe it's the way he's handling you tonight - fragile, delicate, wrapping you in his jacket as if you're the most precious antique at a museum. Or maybe it's the way he looks at you so intently as you speak: nodding along to every word, smiling in between breaths, brushing his knees closer to you with every sentence exchanged.

But you feel safe. And as if you can tell him anything.

"If I tell you something, can you promise it stays between us?" you shakily ask, this time offering your pinkie finger towards him. His eyes switch between staring at your finger and your face, before he nods enthusiastically and wraps his finger around yours.

"Absolutely. I love secrets." he teases, making you roll your eyes.

"Okay, well... I know it's dumb but I... I really thought Billy liked me. I thought it all meant something, you know? All the time we spent together. Him calling me all those pet names. Him driving me back home that one time and promising to hang out with me over winter break..." you swallow nervously, toying with the zipper of Eddie's jacket. "The worst part is I really liked him. Even when he showed up late. Even when he ignored me."

You let out a shaky breath, sucking in cold air.

"And even right now, I can't find it in myself to totally hate him. I know that's pathetic." you curse, wiping away a stray tear angrily. Eddie shifts closer towards you at that.

"Hey, no, it's not pathetic at all. Stop being so mean to yourself. The only person at fault is Billy." he reassures you, his knees now brushing directly up against yours. His presence is quiet but comforting, a steady hand placed alongside your shaky ones.

"I wasted an entire year on him, Eddie. One whole year I'll never get back."

The statement hangs heavy in the air, your voice filled with pure grief and rage. You don't even realize you're crying again until his cool fingers brush against your cheeks, wiping away your tears tenderly as his eyes survey your face - hazel orbs burning with care and compassion.

"So fuck him. You start this year brand new, that's the whole point of spring, right? Cut Billy out completely and focus on spending time with people who love and care about you, people who actually know you. Whether that's King Harrington or Wheeler or a repeat senior/devil-worshipper with a jean jacket."

A giggle escapes your lips at his joke.

"And what could you possibly know about me, Eddie Munson?" you tease, sniffling. Eddie looks offended, placing a hand on his hcest.

"Hey, we might not have ever officially talked, but I'm more perceptive than I look!" he argues. "For example, I know that you like sunflowers and dogs. I know that you volunteer at an animal shelter every weekend and you prefer rainy days over sunny days. I also know that you're really sweet, smart and hardworking. But above all... I know that you're an incredible, super beautiful, once-in-a-lifetime girl who doesn't deserve to be wasting tears on a dickhead like Hargrove."

You blink slowly at the metalhead, not having expected such a heartfelt and detailed response. His final sentence lingers in the air as Eddie then awkwardly laughs, scratching his neck. He's staring at you, trying to gauge your reaction, internally panicking that he's just crossed the line.

"That's... the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me." is all you can manage to say. Eddie blushes lightly at that, shooting you a small wink.

"Well, you deserve it."

Wiping at your wet eyes, you chuckle, hands gripping the wooden beams on the side as you shakily stand up.

"You wanna go back inside?" Eddie questions instantly, straightening up in a protective stance.

"Not really, to be honest. I'd rather be anywhere but the party right now." you confess, licking your lips to wet them. Eddie's eyes lights up at that, a mischevious smirk spreading on his lips.

"Then come with me. I drove here in my van, so I can drive you to your place. Or, even better, but only if you want, I can drive you to my hideout spot."

He's wiggling his eyebrows and teasing you, enticing you to join him in ditching this party. He extends one of his hands, waiting for you to take it, and you do instantly.

"That sounds great, Eddie."

The two of you shove through the crowds of drunk people relatively easily, the loud house music combined with your carefree laughter a heavenly sound to Eddie's ears. He can't believe you've just said yes, he can't believe the girl he's been silently crushing on for the past year has just agreed to sit in his van and go to his hideout spot with him-

Spotting Billy by the keg stand, a murderous rage fills Eddie's veins before he stops.

"What is it?" you question, confused. Eddie lets go of your hand, but not before giving your hand a comforting squeeze.

"Wait here for me for a bit, will you?"

Before you can even question what Eddie's going to do, he's walking away from you and making a bee-line towards Billy and his friends. You can't even make out what Eddie's saying over the music - all you see is Eddie saying something, Billy rolling his eyes and retorting something with an obnoxious smirk, before Eddie chuckles and throws a hard right punch at Billy's face.

The crowd around the two disperse, a chorus of "ooh" and "holy shit" erupting as Billy tumbles to the floor with a nasty thud. Eddie doesn't even look phased, a satisfied smile on his face as he turns around and walks up to you once more.

"Ready?" he asks you, holding your left hand again. You look back and see that Billy's been knocked out cold - which was surely going to bruise his ego for weeks to come. Shocked, you're speechless as you nod, not uttering a single word until Eddie's van door shuts behind you and the car pulls into the road.

"I'm sorry." Eddie then blurts out mid-drive. "If you're mad about me punching Billy, I totally understand, but I-I just had to do it, he hurt you and-"

You place a gentle hand on his leg, stopping him mid-rant.

"Eddie. I'm not mad at all. I was just silent because I was shocked that you'd punch THE Billy Hargrove for me."

Eddie chuckles at that, raising his eyebrows.

"Well, yeah. To be honest, I don't think there's much I wouldn't do for you, pretty girl."

Pretty girl.

You like that, you realize. It's wholly different from Billy's infamous 'babygirl'. Even better, it's genuine and believable coming from Eddie.

When the van eventually lulls to a stop, you stop him from getting out, hands desperately flying on top of his on the steering wheel. He glances at you, confused, before you swallow nervously.

"Did you, uh... mean what you said back there? About me being able to start over this year? A new spring and everything, without Billy?"

You're so close to him that you can individually count the droplets of water adorning his hairline from the spring rain, his lips suddenly mere inches from yours. Your eyes subconsciously flicker down to stare at his lips before quickly snapping back up to look into his eyes, a movement which doesn't go unnoticed by Eddie. He hides the revelation with a slow smile.

"I meant it wholeheartedly. You deserve a life without Billy. New year, new spring."

Eddie then slowly leans in, giving you ample time to back out. But your lashes flutter shut and he takes it as the sign to close the gap completely. His lips are slightly bitter and cold against yours, one of his hands flying up to cup your cheeks as you lean in even closer. He tastes like a mix of lukewarm beer and your peach chapstick, a tangy sweetness lingering in your mouth once you pull away.

"I could be your new spring, if you'd like." he teases lowly, brushing away strands of hair from your eyes. The affectionate gesture sends a chill down your spine, head fuzzy with adoration.

"I'd like that."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #billy hargrover oneshot #billy hargrove imagine #1k #2k

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tinydefector · 1 month

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This is my first time requesting anything on this app rn pls bear with me 😭😭

Can you write the TFP decepticons (like soundwave, shockwave, megatron, knockout, starscream) reacting to a young reader with a 90s grunge/metal music taste? Like they regularly play it on a CD player and what not and maybe there can even be HCs about what they like in music as well

Grunge Reader

Oki before we get into the Scenarios, here's the list of bots their thoughts on the music, clothing choice and what I think they would listen too.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: non

Request and ask open, read pinned post

Soundwave: for me Shockwave indulges in your music on many occasions he enjoy things that make you happy and if it's grunge metal he tends to go out of his way to find music downloading it for you, for him clothing or fabric in general is a foreign thing, only higher ups in the council and senate had those privileges, so he he tends to rather enjoy seeing all the different fabrics you wear.

His music choices tend to go one of two ways, Tecnho music or classical music.

Favourites to listen to

- daft punk

- scandroid

- dance with the dead

- Beethoven

- tchaikovsky

Knockout : Knockout adores listing to both you and Breakdown sing along to grunge music it livens up the medical wing and the amount of concerts the happen of the three of you singing together is amazing, he does adore your clothing choice but most times it a lot of the clothing you wear while helping him weld ends up being your band shirts.

His music choice is very pop based but he does enjoy some scandalous metal and rock.

- Lady Gaga

- nine inch nails

- Nickelback

- My Darkest days

- Rihanna

Breakdown: This bot is a grunge and metal fan, has taken you to multiple concerts events and even shopping for stuff. He has a collection of Cds in his glove box for when you both hangout. He is the one who's slowly convinced Knockout to let loose and dance around to the music with you. TM biggest grunge supporter of the ship.

His favourite bands consist of

- Faith no more

- the smashing pumpkins

- limp bizkit

- powderfinger

- Spiderbait

Starscream: he doesn't understand the appeal nor is he a fan of the music but he will still suffer though it with little remark other than a few grumbles over calling it junk music, but deep down he does enjoy it but only I a tiny bit. Starscream is more into piano and organ. He loves different genres but if it has a piano in it he's automatically captivated. It's the old Vos senator coming out.

- Joe Hisaishi

- Elton John

- mozart

- Ludovico Einaudi

- Billy Joel

Megatron: Megatron as much for his snarl and growl over your 'human' music he doesn't really mind, but he won't admit that, he will enjoy listening to the grunge music on occasions softly in the comfort of his own quarters. It's not really to his taste but he does rather enjoy some of the lyrics.

Music taste for Megatron is funny because I see him enjoying things like, for him it's the lyrics more than the music itself but he would never let anyone know this was the type of music he indulges in.

- Kate bush

- The Wombats

- bastille

- of monsters and men

- Hozier

Shockwave: Shockwave is a strange one for he has no real interest in music he's interested in the effects it has on people the way they react to it. But he himself isn't interested in it, so he doesn't really react to your music. He lets you listen to it and he studies you, how you sing, dance and express yourself. (If it was Senator Soundwave it would be a very different case he'd be a kesha Fan and most like enjoy classical music too)

But for TFP shockwave i feel like he would listen to things that are educational and most times it's only until he has memorised it all.

The periodic table song, he has caught himself humming to when he wishes to remember one of the elements he needs.

____________

SOUNDWAVE

loud music blares from one of the observation desks, 'Best of you' by foo fighters can be heard, At the unexpected yet recognizable guitar riff emanating through his communications hub, Soundwave cycles a quiet ventilation as he turns from maintenance duties to move calmly toward the source of noise and nervous glances. Approaching the observation deck, his visor betrays nothing as optics alight upon the human seated amid controls, belting lyrics with unrestrained passion.

His field pulses gentle amusement even as He lowers the volume slightly. Leaning his massive frame close 'til his visor meets bright eyes. His fingers delicately tap rhythm against a polished table beside his assistant as silence finds its way back between songs.

"Awww why'd you turn it down? I was even speed typing!" They whine out.

"Come on Soundwave you enjoy my music don't try to deny it" the smug comment from them is teasing and aimed at him. Soundwave's visor flickers with a trace of amusement, a smile face flickers onto his visor.

" Volume exceeded safety tolerances for sensitive communication arrays. Appreciation for artistic expression acknowledged." The crude mix of recorded voice combined as One massive talon extends to delicately sweep an errant lock of hair from their smiling face. His free servo rests upon the large keyboard, slowly typing another quick report.

"Continuation of duties mandatory."

His thumb traces a tender caress of their cheek as he continues to work, watching over them as he does so.

"Can I please have it up just a little more, it helps me concentrate on work when I can listen to music" they ask while leaning into his touch, small cheek pressed into his servo.

At their request, Soundwave considers briefly through a gentle pulse of his field before dipping his helm in a nod. "Very well. However, monitor levels closely."

He leans close to peers with gentle scrutiny at their work display, enormous frame bending tenderly as if to shelter their focus.

A deep ex-vent whispers across their cheek and hair. They smile up at him, eyes sparkling in a way only organics do.

"Your the best you know that soundwave" it makes the Decepticon feel very smug hearing those words but he doesn't voice it, His Soundwave's visor brightens subtly as his field swells with pulses of unconditional pride. Inclining his helm in a slow nod, trying to get them to focus back on their work.

"Hey Sounds, I know cybertron probably has its own type of music but if you had to pick a favourite earth genre and artist who would it be?" They ask more out of curiosity. At the thoughtful inquiry, Soundwave's optics linger on them from behind the visor. Though alien to his kind, organic cultural forms have proven insightful in the creativity humans possessed.

After several nanokliks. "Energetic melodies and precise instrumentation suggest preferred categories termed 'Classical' and 'techno'. Composers eliciting strongest empathic resonance include Beethoven and daft punk through capacity to convey vast complexity and emotive depth often exceeding standard units of measurement." He states before they both continue work with a few questions passed between the two of them.

Knockout & Breakdown

'Break stuff' by limp bizkit blares through the medical wing, the sound of a welder can be heard along with singing from both Breakout and their Human assistant. "It's just one of those days!" They both sing out while they continue working on fix work. The human assistant continues welding as Breakdown works on checking that the Venicon being worked on was still in induced status.

Knockout raised an audio receptor as the sound blared through the medical bay, his visor flickering with surprise. He turned to see his Conjunx and their human assistant working together, the two of them singing along to the song. A smirk formed on Knockout's faceplate, finding the scene oddly amusing.

As Breakdown checked on the Vehicon, Knockout approached, leaning against a nearby table with his arms crossed. "Well, well, seems like you two are having quite the productive day," he commented, his voice filled with a mix of amusement and curiosity.

Breakdown glanced up from his task, a grin spreading across his faceplate. " Just trying to keep the energy up here," he replied. "You should join us! It's therapeutic, trust me."

Knockout chuckled, his optics flickering with amusement. "Oh, I wouldn't want to deprive you of your precious bonding time with our human," he replied, his tone dripping with playful sarcasm. "But keep up the good work, Breakdown. We've got quite the repair queue today."

He's all fixed up Breakdown" they call to the other bot.

Knockout's optics widened in mock offence at the human's comment, a playful pout forming on his faceplate.

"Seems like you've got quite the team going here, Breakdown," Knockout remarked, a hint of admiration in his voice. "But don't get too comfortable. We've got plenty more repairs to tackle."

The human flicks up their welding visor as they look to the doctor, "awww do you want me to put some Nine inch nails on for you after KO I know you enjoy them and Gaga" they call out which gets a snicker from Breakdown as he helps the human out of the Venicons chestplate.

"NIN, Gaga, and little ol' me? You know just how to make a mech feel special," he replied, his voice dripping with exaggerated charm. "But I must admit, their music does have a certain... appeal."

Breakdown chuckled at the banter, appreciating the light-hearted atmosphere in the medical bay. He moves towards Knockout who wraps his arms around the larger bot.

Knockout, still leaning into his Conjunx.

"No smooching in the Medbay!, save it for later lovebots!" They human yells while flinging a wrench at breakdown and Knockout, the wrench doesn't hurt either of them but Knockout hisses out about his paint. They move to their phone turning the bluetooth volume as 'Paralyzer' begins playing.

Knockout's optics widened in surprise as the wrench flew past him, narrowly missing its target. He instinctively ducked, his servo reaching up to protect his visage. A playful smirk formed on his faceplate as he looked at the human assistant, his voice filled with amusement.

"Watch the Paint!," Knockout shouts looking towards them,He glanced over at Breakdown, sharing a knowing look with his fellow Decepticon. The unexpected interruption only added to the lively atmosphere of the medbay

"Cheeky little scraplet," Knockout declared, his voice adopting a playful tone. And it makes Breakdown laugh, “don't let them catch you calling them that Red they'll have your helm” Breakdown whispers back to his lover.

Knockout and Breakdown resumed their work, the sound of their tools blending with the music. Despite the wrench incident, Knockout found himself appreciating the human's lively spirit and their ability to inject a sense of fun into their daily tasks.

As the songs continued to play, Knockout couldn't resist adding his own flair, busting out some dance-like moves in between repairs, Breakdown even taking a moment to spin him around. With every twist and turn, his frame exuded a confident charm, his vibrant personality shining through.

In that moment, the medbay transformed into a temporary haven of laughter, music, and productivity. The boundaries between Decepticon and human blurred, replaced by a shared enjoyment of the moment. And as they continued to work and dance, Knockout couldn't help but be grateful for the unexpected companionship and the vibrant energy their human assistant brought into their lives.

Starscream

Starscream loathed being put on pick up duties for the Decepticons 'pet' human as he declared them. He taps his claws against the tree trunk with a snarl.

It's another five minutes before they finally show up at the pick up point.

Starscream narrows his optics at the organic's dishevelled appearance. "You are late," he hisses, talons clenching impatiently against the tree bark. "And what is this...costume you've adorned yourself with? Have you been cavorting in primate rituals again?"

Scooping the human gingerly in his palm, Starscream brings them up to optic level for a more thorough scan. His faceplates curl in distaste at the myriad colours and textures now clinging to their garb.

"I care not what strange fashions the earthlings find appealing. But you represent the Decepticons in this rusting backwater. You will present yourself in a proper manner"

His tone holds a biting edge, though he is careful not to squeeze too tightly and damage his unwilling charge.

Setting the human down once more, he transforms in a whirr of joints, air brakes hissing. "Now Get in. I've wasted enough time already fetching you." His engines rev impatiently, prayer wings arched in a silent threat. Time to return to the Nemesis.

"Stars, I told you I had a concert tonight!, don't talk shit about my fit!" They state while flipping him off. They move to climb into the pilot seat, still humming along to some of the songs.

Starscream's optics narrow dangerously at the human's insolent gesture. "Watch your fleshy appendage, worm, before I remove it," he hisses. Nonetheless, he waits impatiently for the organic to strap into the seat before closing his cockpit windshield. As his flight engines roar to life, Starscream vents a derisive snort.

"A concert, you say? Bah. What pompous cacophony of noise making as 'music' among you humans?" Lifting off and banking sharply into the darkening sky, Starscream runs stealth diagnostics with his free systems. The organic's attire had indeed been outrageous, unbefitting one under Decepticon protection. Still, information is information.

"Now, out with it.?" His turbines whine expectantly, They let out a laugh. "Oh and I thought you weren't interested in the primitiveness of human society, you wanna hear about the music, drugs or amount of people who got hurt in the most pit?" They leaning back into his seat.

"Music, drugs, and injuries, you say? Now you have piqued my interest, fleshling. While your species' rituals hold little tactical value, So out with it, then - what lurid tales do you have to tell?" The two chat between themselves before Starscream asked his next question.

"What strange sounds passed for music among the masses? I assume it involved heavy percussion and vulgar vocals."

"It really depends on your taste Starscream, I happen to enjoy 90s Grunge, metal." They reply while pulling up 'Cannonball' by the breeders as an example. Starscream isn't impressed by it.

"Did cybertron have music? What did you enjoy listening too?"

Starscream considers the noisy music playing in his cockpit, wings twitching in distaste. "Your earthly 'grunge' leaves much to be desired in terms of musical structure and composition," he sniffs. "Though I will concede it matches the primitive aesthetic of your species."

At the human's question, Starscream's optics take on a distant gleam as he delves into memory files. "Cybertron was home to a rich culture and history before the wars consumed all. In the arena before battle, great artists would compose symphonies to inspire our skills and stir our sparks. Legendary musicians like Ironwing wrote anthems that could lift one's spirit even in the depths of the Pits."

His turbines sigh wistfully. "As for my own tastes...there was something majestic about listening to Polyhex Quartet in the archives of the Elite Guard. The way their harmonies echoed through the stacks, remnants of a Golden Age long fallen...it was easy to lose track of time, imagining nobler days."

Banking closer to the Nemesis, Starscream gazes toward the ship looking for his landing platform. "But that was vorns ago."

They hum as they lean forward resting their chin in their hands. "Any kinda human music you do like?" They ask, it was the most starscream had really talked with them, he seemed to enjoy it when people were open to listen.

Starscream considers the human's question, After several nano-klicks of thoughtful silence, he rumbles, "While most of your species' artistic offerings leave much to be desired, I did find some merit in the instrumental compositions of a 'Ludovico Einaudi.' His piano works featured a pleasant minimalism and emotional resonance that reminded me a bit of Polyhex Quartet's melodies from vorns past." As the seeker comes in for landing they quickly finish their conversation before Starscream begins walking off leaving them on the landing pad. “Come on then!” He calls out

Megatron

'Ever flow' by pearl Jam echo's through the Nemesis, and Megatron knows full well who was responsible for the music, his human companion, they had somehow convinced Soundwave to let them play music through the ship. As he approaches the command deck he can see the human sitting on the armrest of his throne-like seat. They look up at Megatron with a smile on their face.

Megatron loomed over the human sitting on his command throne, his optics flickering in irritation beneath his battlemask. "Explain yourself, fleshling," he rumbled. "Why have you taken liberties with my ship? The Nemesis operates according to my will alone." However, beneath his stern facade, Megatron felt a grudging admiration for the human's boldness. Few dared such freedoms amongst the Decepticons.

"It's really too quiet in here sir, I thought some music might help with work progress'' they state smugly knowing full well Megatron wouldn't do anything about it, he enjoyed their company too much. As the song continues to play his optics roam the ship taking in how all the Decepticons seem to be working quickly.

Megatron's optics narrowed at the human's insolent reply, but inwardly he conceded the point. A droning silence could sap even the most industrious of mecha. And perhaps this...experiment with music had merits he had not considered. His gaze swept the command deck, noting with grudging approval how the Decepticons laboured at peak efficiency under the strange sounds echoing through the Nemesis.

"You show promise, fleshling," rumbled Megatron. They nearly gasp as Megatron picks them up, holding them to his chassis as he walks out of the command deck with them in toe. They look up at him slightly worried. "Megatron I can change it if you like, I just thought Pearl Jam would be a decent band not too heavy or distracting" they state softly.

Megatron chuckled darkly as the human gazed up at him with concern, still clasped gently in his massive claw. " For now I have no complaints." He strode from the command deck, the human neatly tucked against his chestplate.

The next song that plays is 'monkeys gone to heaven' - by Pixies it's alot softer than the first song and Megatron finds he doesn't quite mind it, it's not the type of music he listened to on Cybertron but it was tolerable.

"Sir, did Cybertron have music?" They ask softly as he places them down on his desk of his hub suite.

Megatron felt his tension lessen ever so slightly as the softer music drifted through his audials. Not the proud martial hymns of Cybertron's past, but... tolerable from this alien creature. He lowered the human gently to his desk, regarding them thoughtfully as the question prompted memories of ages past.

"Indeed, Cybertron had its share of musical compositions," he rumbled. "Grand orchestral." His optics dimmed as he recalled theatre houses echoing with stirring choruses of advancement and glory. How far his once-great planet had fallen since those golden epochs.

"What did you like listening to?, my music taste isn't to everyone's liking but I'm intrigued. What did the great Decepticon leader listen to before he was a leader?" They ask while sitting down watching as he flicks through reports.

Megatron hesitated at the question, taken aback by their audacity. None dared inquire so freely into his past.

"Before the uprising, in Cybertron's golden age, my tastes ran to Cycles of Triumph, music that stirred the spark," he rumbled after a moment. "I was a gladiator then, and such works I found peaceful."

A clawed finger tapped thoughtfully on the arm of his throne. "Your music lacks such scope and poetic pull." His fiery optics regarded the human keenly.

"Is there anything you have listened to of earth music you happen to like?"

"There was one tune - 'Running Up That Hill', I believe the humans call it. Sung by a femme named Kate Bush. An...oddly compelling work."

His optics flickered as another memory surfaced. "And 'Greek Tragedy' by the Wombats - an enjoyable song about the fleeting nature of your species. The instrumentation was pleasing, and the lyrics reminded me of Cybertron's golden ages now lost, days I do sometimes miss."

Megatron fixed the human with a stern gaze. "But speak of this to no one. Your music has proven of some use, small creature, so I permit its continued playing for now. "

Shockwave

Shockwaves optic watches the human walk around the desk, headphones in as they dance to their music, they weren't even away when he was there, as they sing along to their music.

Shockwave observes the human with detached curiosity, analysing their behaviour and attempting to understand the appeal of their actions. The rhythmic movements and the joy displayed on their faces seem foreign to him, as he had never experienced such emotions himself. He analyses the human's clothing, noting the 90s grunge aesthetic and its significance in human culture.

As the human continues to dance and sing, Shockwave's attention is drawn to their carefree nature. It contrasts sharply with his own isolated existence and the weight of his scientific pursuits. He finds himself captivated by their uninhibited display of emotion, something he had only observed from a distance.

Curiosity piqued, Shockwave decides to engage with the human, partly out of a scientific interest in their behaviour and partly out of an unexplainable longing for connection. He approaches cautiously, his footsteps silent, as he stands by the edge of the desk. With a cold monotone, he interrupts their dancing.

"Human, your behaviour is perplexing to me. Explain the purpose of your actions and the emotions they elicit."

They let out a noise of surprise as they quickly remove their headphones. "shockwave!, sorry i didn't know you were back" they state sheepishly.

Shockwave's optic narrows as he observes the human's reaction, noting their surprise and subsequent apology. He remains silent for a brief moment, processing their response before speaking.

"There is no need for apologies. Your unawareness of my presence is inconsequential," Shockwave replies, his voice devoid of any warmth or understanding. "Now, answer my previous inquiry. Explain the purpose of your actions and the emotions they elicit."

The human shifts uncomfortably, their expression changing from surprise to slight unease. They hesitate for a moment before replying, "I... I was just listening to music and dancing. It's a way for me to express myself, to feel free and happy."

Shockwave processes their response, analysing the concept of expressing oneself through music and movement. He finds it intriguing, yet foreign, yet past memories linger for a life that was but a past memory. The emotions they mention, happiness and freedom, are unfamiliar to him these days, but he can sense a certain appeal in their description.

"Freedom and happiness," Shockwave muses, his monotone voice betraying a hint of curiosity. "These emotions are foreign to me. What purpose do they have?”

The human looks at Shockwave with a mix of surprise and sympathy. "Well, Shockwave, emotions are a complex part of being human, humans feel a lot and well music seems to ignite that in us."

Shockwave's single optic flickers as he processes the human's words, contemplating the idea of experiencing emotions. He remains silent for a while, lost in thought, before finally speaking, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty.

"I appreciate your perspective. It is a concept I will consider further. Thank you for enlightening me."

The human smiles warmly, offering a kind gesture. "Anytime, Shockwave."

Shockwave nods, his optic fixed on the human.

With that, Shockwave turns to walk away, his mind filled with newfound curiosity and lingering sensations under his plating. The encounter with the human has sparked something within him.

"Wait Shockwave" they call out trying to get his attention before the bot left to continue more studies.

Shockwave pauses in his tracks, turning his attention back to the human who called out to him. His optic narrows slightly, displaying a hint of curiosity as he regards them.

"What is it?" he asks, his monotone voice betraying no emotion. "Is there something else you require?"

"Do you listen to music?" They asked. They wanted to know if he did and if so what kind of music he enjoyed.

Shockwave's optic flickers briefly as he ponders the question. The concept of music as a form of entertainment is something he had observed but never actively engaged with himself. However, in his quest for knowledge, he had gathered data on various forms of human expression, including music.

"I do not listen to music, it has no benefits to my work," Shockwave replies, his voice devoid of any enthusiasm. "However, I have analysed and studied different genres of music as part of my research on human culture. It is an intriguing form of artistic expression. But have not ever listened for pleasure"

The human's face lights up with curiosity, their eyes shining with excitement. "I could play some music for you?, you might get an understanding of why humans like it so much” Shockwave hesitates for a moment, processing the human's offer. The idea of experiencing human music firsthand intrigues him. He nods, his optic narrowing slightly in response.

"Very well," Shockwave replies, his voice remaining monotone. "I am open to experiencing music in order to gain a deeper understanding of its appeal to humans. Please proceed."

The human grins and quickly moves to a nearby control panel, fiddling with buttons and switches until ‘head like a Hole’ begins to fill the room. The music flows through the speakers, enveloping the space with its riffs and rhythms.

As the music plays, Shockwave stands still, his optic focused on the source of the sound. He analyses the intricate patterns, the interplay of different instruments, and the emotions that the music is designed to evoke. And a memory flashes across his processor. His green and white features in a mirror as he sings along to music in his Laboratory, he had just been at a council session, Proteus had irritated him extremely and music helped him settle after the session. It's a fleeting memory of another life.

After a few moments, the human glances at Shockwave, their eyes searching for any signs of reaction. "What do you think, Shockwave?"

Shockwave pauses, his optic brightening for a brief moment before returning to its usual intensity. "Strange…" he states. He'd have to do more research into this.

#transformers #transformers x human #transformers x reader #transformers prime #megatron #Starscream #Knockout #tfp knock out #breakdown #breakdown tfp #soundwave x reader #soundwave tfp #soundwave transformers #shockwave #shockwave transformers

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thestarfishinjootsoffice · 1 year

Note

Hii!! Can I request Slashers with a Child reader who has telekinesis like eleven. It kinda sounds cheesy but its just an idea that came to my mind :)

Hannibal wants his child back.

Slashers with child! Reader who has telekinesis!

Michael 🔪

Holy shit.

Now he's only seen it in movies and first time he saw it he thought he was losing it.

Once you confirmed he wasn't he went back to Holy shit.

He's kinda worried you might throw things at him like a chair or knife. Wonders the many cool things you could do with this power.

You may or may not be brought into his murder sprees, only when he's having a hard time though. Doesn't want to look weak in front of a child.

Won't admit it but he loves to see you use your powers, very foreign and unique. You're becoming one of his favourite person of all time.

Sinclair brothers

They almost died.

Bo had to take off his invisible glasses with his hand on his mouth and just staring into space thinking about what he just saw you do. Once he clears his head he's calling you a child prodigy. Just hopes you won't mess with him because you have so many advantages and he can't compete with you. He'll still boss you around. Its his own way of saying that this quirk of yours won't make a negative impact on your relationship.

Vincent was shooketh. He thought telekinesis was only fantasy, he loves seeing you use your powers he may or may not ask you to help a bit in his basement. (you'd better say yes) would awkwardly just stare at you the whole time he's just admiring you. However if your ability causes you to bleed and exhaust after heavy use then he'll immediately make you stop and rest. Expect drastic very rare requests from you from then on.

Lester. Out of these two he's the most dramatic and enthusiastic person. Is very curious and if you could he would beg ask you to lift him and Jonesy. (Jonesy did not like that.) He's still going to treat you how he did before your ability was revealed to him. Yeah sure he loves your telekinetic power but he loves you more <3. If the bleeding thing also happens then he'll do the same thing as Vincent. Instead you two are going to sit down on the grass and drink cold beverages or if outdoor is not your thing then just some chilling inside the house.

Hannibal

I think I already did some like this. But if you want general hc which idk if I already did before since it's been so long, let me know so I can edit.

Billy & Stu

Both went batshit.

Billy was asking you "HOW DID YOU DO IT?? WHAT KIND OF NEW TRICK IS THIS!!??" Stu's brain was still being blown.

You took this as an opportunity to mess with them. You just asked them what they were talking about and just ran to your room.

Later that night you woke them up and told them you heard something downstairs and they went to go check.

Objects were flying everywhere and scaring the shit out of both ghostfaces. You were trying your hardest not to laugh so you can keep a secret a little while longer.

They both held a knife at all times after the incident. You secret lasted about maybe 2 weeks.

They still went batshit.

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drinkingbeerfroma · 11 months

Text

Okay. So. How about a 90s sorta online dating Harringrove AU that's also omegaverse where Steve is a very picky omega and he's had so many matches to his dating profile bidding for his attention and he knows he's like the creme de la creme, the bees knees, rare and beautiful and smells the best and most intoxicating scent that it makes everybody stupid to a point that it's gotten pretty dangerous. But he doesn't mean to be picky, he's always wanted it easy as much as the next guy, it's just that he has the most sensitive nose, ever since he was a kid, even gotten worse after he presented, and just a whiff of any scent he can't particularly stand he gets the most godawful allergies and sneezes and sometimes even coughs his lungs out if it's really strong and bad. And there aren't really meds for it. He can use scent blockers on himself, but that's it, that's the only extent of protection their health care system has right now for his case.

So he's lonely, he's become a really lonely guy, can't really leave the house without a mask on like he has seasonal allergies all year round, hard for him to make friends and keep them when he can't really see them for too long, even harder for him to find someone he likes. Since he works at home anyway, he resorts to online dating. Because why not? He's desperate. It's the 90s, there are tons of lonely people out there who are completely normal and aren't complete pervs. It's what he tells himself. Now that he's looking at an overwhelming amount of matches, with countless alphas and betas who keep sending his P.O. box all kinds of things that carry their scent for mate matching, Steve has his pick of the litter so to speak, only it's twice as awful, has become a great inconvenience because he has to smell each one, each damn sealed and ziplocked package. It's become literal hell. He can't believe romance in the 20th century has gotten to this. Just when he's gotten sick and tired and literally exhausted from sneezing and coughing, just when he thinks he can't smell a damn thing anymore and has to air out the whole damn apartment from all the nasty foreign smells from strangers, he finds it. Smells it. Right before he almost throws away all the bags in the garbage shoot, he gets a whiff that escapes a not-so-sealed bag.

It's from a shirt.

The most heavenly, mouth-watering scent of an alpha is coming from a pit-stained, worn-thin, hole ridden, a little dank, shirt. Steve doesn't know how to react because it's so careless and unthoughtful and lazy, and the most disgustingly amazing and stupidly addictive scent he's ever smelled in his entire pathetic omega life.

Which belongs to one Billy Hargrove.

The douchiest asshole in the great Chicago area with the prettiest bluest eyes, the embodiment of everything Steve hates in an alpha, all cocky and charming and oozing with unrighteous confidence, his dating profile consisting of a bunch of half naked pictures of him flexing the muscles of his muscles, hobbies are getting his dick wet, his knot popped and looking at himself in the goddamn mirror, sweet words filled with bad intentions.

But Steve can't help but stuff his face of Billy Hargrove's disgustingly damp shirt, can't help but drool and moan on it while he touches himself in his underwear, spreading the wetness between his thighs, he comes hard. For the first time in a long time, he comes easy.

He sends him an e-mail. Fed-exes his underwear to Billy Hargrove's P.O. box the next day. There are tons of lonely people out there who are completely normal, and who aren't complete pervs, of course. But Steve isn't one of them.

#Harringrove #Harringrove ficlet #90s online dating but make it omegaverse Harringrove AU #steve harrington is a picky eater #until he has no choice #Billy hargrove is disgustingly hot #cause he's disgusting AND hot obv #Omega!Steve Harrington #Alpha!Billy Hargrove #Steve Harrington x Billy Hargrove #Steve has a condition and that is he's desperate #harringrove a/b/o #Harringrove AU

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k-marzolf · 5 months

Text

There is thunder in our hearts.

warnings; reader is traded to Billy for a debt, kissing, mentions of sexual assault, language, bed sharing, fluff/angst, fem!reader.

summary; The beginning of your relationship with Billy.

words; 858.

author’s note: alright, I wrote this on very little sleep, so if this is half baked that’s why. Lol

tags; @e-dubbc11 @firexfate @aoi-targaryen

Rabbit Heart masterlist.

&&&&

It had been three weeks since you’d been there, and it was just you and Billy in the house; you couldn’t sleep, and wandered into his study. The fire was roaring in the fireplace, and he was leaning against the mantle with a crystal glass of whiskey in his hand.

His sweater fit him snug, and he looked like some dark prince out of a fairytale, the fairytales that usually meant to tell a lesson—not the sweet Disney ones, as shadows cast harsh angles on his face.

He looked up as you entered tentatively, a lonely soul reaching to another lonely soul.

He watched you, eyes burning in the fire light, taking another sip of whiskey never taking his eyes off you, you felt devoured and worshiped all in one glance. A thrill went through you that you’d never felt with any other man. The man who’d held you as you cried after your father left you with him.

You were crying into Billy’s shoulder, as he held you, rocking you, and whispering tenderly to you. He'd taken you from your father’s home after being traded for his debt. "I'll take care of her now." He'd said, and whisked you away.

Your whole body shook, and Billy kissed your tears away, making you peek up at him from your hiding place. He smoothed the hair from your face, taking out his pocket square and dabbing at your eyes.

“It’s alright, bunny. I’ll look after you.” He promised, kissing your forehead. Your shaking began to subside, and your eyelids drooped, exhausted from so much crying. His fingers stroked your hair, and despite yourself, you rest feeling oddly cared for, something foreign to you.

Your father had never cared, you had always been a burden.

Ever since you’d come into his home, with your tender demeanor, and soft eyes, you’d upended everything. He’d craved you the minute stepped foot in his home, wanted to have you in his bed, not just for sex but real companionship.

“Can’t sleep, bunny?” He asked.

Your heart fluttered at the term of endearment. No one had ever made you feel like Billy did, like you were worth something.

Your mother had been a drug addict, and your father treated you with cold indifference. And while Billy tried to avoid you due to his fear of attachments, every encounter he’d treated you well.

“No,” you whispered, moving to stand in front of him. Without thinking you reached up and touched his cheek, his beard tickling your skin. Billy leaned into your hand, and your heart thudded as he kept eye contact.

You let your hands trail down his jaw, marveling at the feel of his beard, letting your fingers dance across his lips, thumb brushing his bottom lip; you move them down his neck stroking the hair at the nape, and when you finally touched his chest, his hand trapped yours there.

“You’re playing with fire, bunny.” He warned.

You leaned closer, “Maybe I wanna get burned, to consume and be consumed.” You said, voice low.

Billy grabbed the back of your neck, and paused hovering above your mouth, looking for your consent, it was important to Billy who’d had his autonomy taken from him. But you leaned in closer, eyes fluttering.

His mouth touched yours, and you’d never found anything good in kissing. It was just tongues and spit. But god, he made you ache. His hands wandered down to your bottom and he pulled you down with him into his lap, in his chair.

He tasted like whiskey and cigars, and his hands were rough on your skin, and you finally touched his hair, pulling. He groaned into your mouth at that.

He pulled away then, both of you breathing heavily, laughing in delight. He tucked your head under his chin, and you sighed.

With the beating of his heart, you slept against him, feeling safe and warm despite who he was.

When you woke up the next morning, you were on silk sheets. The room had a strong Billy Russo smell to it, cigars and bergamot, and you almost didn’t want to leave.

The door opened and he was there, in all his glory, dressed and looking dapper as usual.

“Come on, bunny. It’s time for breakfast.” He said, giving you a half smile when you whined.

“I’ll get out of bed if you give me another kiss,” you bartered.

He laughed, “Are you negotiatin’ with me?” It was the first time you heard him genuinely laugh, and it was wonderful.

He crawled across the bed, leaning over you, “C’mere, then.” He said, amused.

You wrapped your arms around him as he kissed you breathless again.

You wanted to wake up in his bed every morning.

And he wanted you in his bed.

But he knew a little of your past with your uncle, after looking into you. It was public record. And if he was honest, it drew him to you, after his own sexual assault. You were a kindred spirit. But he wasn’t going to push you until you were ready.

Until then, he’d enjoy your kisses, and tender touches.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader

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witchsickness · 2 years

Text

steve doesn’t really get what hargrove’s deal is.

he’s just, like, waiting for him in his car after school, doing absolutely nothing wrong at all, when hargrove wrenches the door open. almost pulls it off its hinges, fuming like he picked a fight with the world and got knocked down before the first round was over.

and to think that steve went as far as throwing a foreigner tape in the player, because it’s the only music he owns that hargrove barely tolerates. barely.

point is, steve’s done nothing wrong, but hargrove still growls at him, the second his back hits the seat, ‘we need to talk.’

‘oh. right,’ steve says, because he knows exactly what we need to talk means. he’s already calculating all the detours he’ll have to take from now on to avoid every memory-stained spot.

it’s a bummer. hawkins isn’t nearly big enough for a heartbreak.

nothing happens for a bit. hargrove’s silent next to him, eyes fixed straight ahead like he’s hoping for some divine intervention to get him out of this particular pickle. it’s almost funny, how uncomfortable he looks. deserves it, though. that’ll teach him to go around breaking people’s hearts.

eventually, he barks, ‘not fuckin’ here, obviously,’ and then adds, softer and a beat too late, ‘just. drive, will you?’ and spends the rest of the drive gripping the edge of his seat.

it’s a shame. steve really loves that tape. too bad he’ll never listen to foreigner again.

the second steve pulls up by the lake he’ll spend the rest of his life avoiding, hargrove fishes his pack out of his pocket. he plucks a cigarette out, but his hands are shaking so much it gets sucked into the black hole under the seat. maybe steve will find it, months later, and store it away as a keepsake of the day billy hargrove broke his heart.

‘jesus christ,’ hargrove mutters, fingers drumming a wild rhythm on his knees. ‘let’s make something clear. i’m being real nice, telling you this. i don’t have to.’

the alternative would be to get cold-shouldered without a heads-up, presumably. honestly, hargrove’s being very honorable, breaking up with him face to face. steve should be grateful.

plenty of time for that. he can be grateful after tearing the shirt hargrove left at his place a month ago to ribbons.

hargrove, who mumbles something, and rolls his eyes when steve frowns at him. then. then, he says, quietly, ‘okay, fuck. okay. i’m gonna be in love with you. real soon.’

the screeching sounds must be in steve’s head, because the engine’s off. can’t have a crash if the car’s not moving, right?

blinking at hargrove, who’s currently chewing his thumbnail and avoiding steve’s eyes, steve says, ‘come again?’

hargrove scoffs. ‘absolutely not. god, why did i think you’d be even remotely cool about this?’

steve would genuinely like to know, since, historically, he’s never been cool about anything, ever. ‘you—what,’ he says instead, ‘what the fuck, billy. who announces they will be in love with someone? nobody does that.’

‘i do,’ hargrove snaps back, defensive in a way he has no right to be. ‘and it’s a warning.’

things are moving at breakneck speed, and, honestly, steve just needs everything to stop for a second, so he can start catching up. ‘a warning,’ he repeats, ‘what for?’

‘so you can get out,’ hargrove mutters, shrugging, and suddenly. steve knows exactly what’s going on.

‘before it’s too late, you mean. before you. before you fall in love with me.’

hargrove shrugs again, staring at the lake ahead. ‘’s only fair.’

‘right,’ steve says, nodding even though hargrove still won’t look at him. ‘in this scenario, do i dump you before or after telling you i’ve been in love with you for a month?’

at that, hargrove whips his head up. finally. ‘what the fuck, harrington. why didn’t you say anything?’

‘uh. you just kidnapped me to tell me you’re not in love with me yet.’

‘means i will be.’

it’s infuriating, actually, that he’s got a point. steve rolls his eyes, and then shuts hargrove up with his mouth, objectively the most effective way to keep him from doing something stupid. when hargrove whimpers at the back of his throat, steve swallows it. all in all, it’s a good kiss. a really good kiss.

‘how long will it take, do you think?’ steve asks, when hargrove lets him pull back. they’re both skirting breathlessness, and smiling like idiots about it. ‘like, how soon are we talking here?’

hargrove blushes up to his ears. ‘shut up, okay?’ he says, and then, ‘soon, like, a couple of months ago.’

#harringrove #harringroveweek #confessions isn't today's prompt but i wanted to post sth!#billy hargrove #steve harrington #my stuff

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incognit0slut · 1 year

Text

Lock your door

Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

All y/n wanted was for her coworker to pay attention to her. Spencer was more than happy to oblige. Based on;

cw: 18+ explicit sexual content, oral (f receiving), face sitting

wc: 3,9k (I'm a very descriptive writer you have been warned)

a/n: (reposted because of some error) I’m currently doing an ongoing series but once in a while, I like to write random plots, thus begins another series in which will all be one-shots based on songs i currently enjoy listening to… so yeah, this will be fun.

requests are open if you have a song in mind!

MASTERLIST

“…you better lock your door, and look at me a little more…”

Y/N WASN'T A SENTIMENTAL PERSON, but there was something about the way he looked tonight.

The fluorescent light coming from the hotel room danced across his face, highlighting the sharpness of his jaw. His eyes were in deep concentration as they scanned the document in his hand, his brows furrowed every time he came across something he couldn't comprehend.

Her eyes slowly raked down toward his Adam's apples, moving further across his chest, before they glided along the length of his arm. She couldn't help but notice the mesmerizing way his long fingers trailed along the words underneath his palm.

She always knew Spencer had nice, well-kept hands, but as she continued to observe them, she noticed how enticing they truly were. The size of them always surprised her, as well as the length of his fingers. But it was the veins running through the backs of his hands that really made her dry at the mouth, especially when the sleeves of his button-down shirt were folded above his wrists, showing off firm arms that didn't leave much to her imagination.

How long had she been staring at him? Gawking at him? It was hard to keep her eyes off of him when it was all she had been doing ever since she was introduced to the awkward twenty-four-year-old nerd that he was twelve years ago.

Twelve fucking years.

There should be some kind of reward for pining over your best friend for more than a decade. Y/n should be growing out of this yearning a long time ago yet somehow the more they worked together, the more it became hard for her to act as if every time his fingers innocently touched her skin there wasn’t this immense desire taking over her body, leaving her in a state of being completely swept away by the intensity of it.

Granted, Y/n knew she wasn't the only one attached to this infatuation. Words were never exchanged, although observing and analyzing people's behavior for a job helped her notice the exact same desire reflected in his eyes. She could tell in the way he looked at her, the way his pupils dilated every time he focused on her mouth.

But things between her and Spencer had always been complicated. Her early interest came unnoticed when the person he preferred to ask on a date was another one of their colleagues, and when he grew out of that brief crush and had the courage to finally ask her out, she was already in a relationship.

When that relationship ended begrudgingly and she needed a shoulder to cry on, Spencer's heart was already taken for a mysterious girl he guarded to himself. But that love affair only became a heartbreaking tragedy as it ended before it even began.

It was ever since then that Y/n made a mental note to never indulge her feelings toward one of the closest people in her life. She deemed it inappropriate after everything he'd been through, especially when he made it clear that getting involved with the opposite sex was the very last thing on his mind.

Until something shifted a few days ago.

She wasn't sure what it was. Perhaps it was the traveling into yet another foreign part of the country that made everything seem different, or maybe it was being in close proximity for more than forty-eight hours that had her watching him so earnestly.

But whatever it was, the sudden shift had her looking at the adorable young man he once was into this attractive, irresistible man she viewed as more than a mere friend. A man whose eyes glazed over her mouth this morning yet managed to be oblivious to how she was the one gawking at him now.

Maybe it was time to end their flirtatious dance. Maybe it was time to stop skirting along the what-ifs flowing in her mind. Y/n glanced at the man in front of her, watching the way his back hunched over the table as he buried himself further into deep concentration.

“Spence."

He hummed a soft response, his eyes still trailing the words printed on the document.

"Spencer."

He slightly tilted his head, an indication he was listening but kept himself busy as he continued his reading.

"Dr. Reid."

There was a certain cadence in her voice that sounded oddly pleasing. Spencer reacted to the low timbre of her voice with a glance, his eyes skimming along her leg which rested on top of the other, a glimpse of soft skin teasing his senses as the material of her dress lay softly against her thighs. His eyes snapped back to her face, noticing the lopsided smirk on her lips.

"What is it?"

"Aren't you going to take a break?" Her eyes shot toward the document in his hand. "You've been reading nonstop ever since I got here."

The latter statement was the one that caught his attention. "What's the reason you're here again?"

Y/n wondered whether explaining how she wanted to run her hands through his disheveled hair while he buried his face along her neck would be deemed appropriate. But she had too much pride to admit that. Instead, she uncrossed her legs with a satisfied glint in her eyes as she caught him staring.

She might not want to convey her attraction through words, but carrying out the art of seduction was a very different matter. Temptation had this alluring appeal that drew people in, a certain type of feeling that could often lead a person to do things they usually wouldn't do. And it was what she had in mind as she leaned over the table, the collar of her dress gracefully dropping with her movement, publicly displaying her cleavage.

"I thought you might need company," she simply said. "But I've been sitting here for almost an hour and you haven't engaged me in a conversation."

His eyes flared on the sensual way her breasts were pressed against her clothes before he quickly looked away. "Well, these documents aren't going to read for themselves."

She almost rolled her eyes at his response. "But aren't your eyes tired? Don't you want to take a break?"

He glanced at the stack of papers sitting on his side of the table. "I don't think that would be the wisest thing to do."

"Not even a five-minute break?"

"Especially a five-minute break."

She slumped in her chair as he diverted his attention back to his task, already engrossing himself in another document while ignoring the baffled look on her face. Was she looking at this differently? Was she wrong to think that some untold infatuation lingered between them all these years?

Y/n couldn't help but feel disappointed. Disheartened by the lack of attention, she abruptly stood up and moved along the carpet floor of his room. Her sudden movement caught him by surprise. "Where are you going?"

"Somewhere that might actually appreciate my presence."

She heard him heave out a sigh as he got up from his seat. "You know you're welcome here."

"Am I though?" She taunted, her hand already on the doorknob as she threw him a look over her shoulder. "You barely glanced at me, Spence."

"I was working. You know I need to find any potential evidence from all these files."

A sense of guilt washed over her as she watched him take a tentative step forward. "I know. I just... all I wanted was for you to look at me." Her guilt-ridden concern was replaced by embarrassment when he didn't respond. She quickly shook her head. "You know what? Never mind."

An immense feeling of shame and embarrassment traveled through her body as she turned around. What else was there to do than to flee from his scrutinizing gaze? Her hand gripped the doorknob before she pulled it, ready to fly out the room when a hand suddenly hovered over the edge of the door, softly pushing it back into place.

The sudden silence unnerved her, picking the pace of her heart when she realized she was very much flushed against his body. She could feel herself trembling as her grip slipped off the doorknob. She watched the way his long fingers glided down the hard surface of the door in intense interest.

His rough hand engulfed the lock on the door and she felt his other hand grasp her hair, slightly moving it away for better access to whatever he had in mind. His tone was quiet but undeniably gruff when he mumbled, “It's not that I don't want to look at you, Y/n.”

This was not how she had expected the night would go. Well, maybe it was what she had hoped for, but now that it was actually happening, she completely froze on the spot. She didn't know what to do, the gears in her head were moving to initiate a proper reaction but immediately came to a halt when his other hand banded around her waist as he pressed himself to her back, murmuring into the slope of her shoulders.

"But a five-minute break is not enough for me…”

His breath was hot on her neck.

“…to do..."

Her head lulled back as he pressed a kiss.

"…the things..."

Her skin shivered as he flicked his tongue.

"…I want to do to you."

She watched as he turned the lock back to its place, the sound a distinct echo in the room.

Everything went completely still. The air charged with an electric sense of excitement and nervousness, the type of charge that lead to anticipation. Spencer could feel the erratic pace of his heart as a surge of arousal rippled through his blood. It was definitely not a feeling he was used to, but it was very powerful and overwhelming in its intensity as he swiftly grabbed her arm.

Y/n let out an inaudible gasp when he turned her around, not because of the way her legs were stumbling by the impulsive contact, but by the sudden grip of his hand on her waist, steadying her momentarily in the midst of her trying to register what was happening.

"Spencer," his name a sigh from her lip. A hot spike raced through her body as if she had been struck by some force. Y/n took a shuddering breath, already knowing she would be helpless against the tingling wave he was building within her.

"What happened to your confidence?" He whispered with a coy smile.

She was growing dizzy, overwhelmed with the feeling of him everywhere, with how clear his intentions had become and how much she welcomed them. "I guess you've rendered me speechless."

And then his large hand cupped her whole face, tilting her up. His fingertips felt electric, for wherever they touched her skin tingled in a frenzy of static. She was mesmerized, captured by the spell he had on her.

There was a warm gust of air over her nose as he breathed out, "Are you sure?" His nose gently brushed against hers. "I'll stop if you tell me to."

Her fluttering eyes shot up at him. "Don't you fucking dare."

A satisfied smile curled on his lips as she waited for the moment to come, to explore every inch of his mouth. He finally pressed his parted lips on hers—and true to her imagination, his kiss was divine.

His lips felt soft and her mind went hazy when he started to move them. The push and pull of lips were exhilarating, the lazy mapping of their mouths molding together ascended the desire inside her. She exhaled a moan the moment he nibbled her bottom lip with a gentle brush of his tongue, her body burning with a new sense of need.

He gripped the base of her neck, keeping her locked to his mouth in their exchange of breaths, their tongues grazing, dancing, colliding with one another. And between her breathless moan of pleasure, he was making his own delightful noises, the various groans and growls coming from deep within his chest only made her beg for more.

Spencer slowly pulled away, eyes slamming shut as his forehead met hers, gasping for the much-needed air. "You," he growled under his ragged breath. "Taste better than I imagined."

Her head was spinning. How could he consume her so much? They were practically pressed against each other like hot glue yet she wondered whether there was any possible way to crawl under his skin. It wasn't enough, she craved more. More than his kiss. More than his tongue—she wanted more of him.

Y/n slightly pulled away, her hands skimming along his arms before they grasped onto the bottom hem of her dress, and without warning, she managed to pull the piece of clothing over her head with one swift motion.

Spencer stood there, utterly impressed and furthermore aroused. His eyes raked over her half-naked body with absolute adoration. "I see you've gained your confidence back."

She threw her dress to the floor. "Most of it anyway."

There was nothing more bewitching than her half-naked form, yet he wanted more of her, he needed to have her fully undressed in his arms. Spencer carefully grabbed her hand and guided her further into the room. He slowly dropped himself on the edge of his bed and parted his legs, gently slipping her between them.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, his hands gliding along her skin. "Gorgeous, just absolutely gorgeous."

Her hands skimmed along his shoulders before she ran them through his tousled hair as she stood between the firmness of his legs, enjoying the pure admiration in his eyes. There was something mesmerizing in those hazel orbs, tantalizing her self-confidence as her fingers moved over to the front of her bra, unhooking the clasp before it slipped over her shoulders so effortlessly.

When she was finally free from the confinement of her undergarment, Spencer let out a satisfied sigh, because right in front of him were the most perfect breasts he could ever possibly imagine. His hand danced across her skin, feeling her body tremble underneath his palm as he let a thumb graze over her already hard nipple. The moan she let out was unbelievably exotic and there was nothing else he wanted to do than to hear more of it.

So he let his finger trail down her stomach before he grabbed the edges of her underwear and finally, but oh so slowly, pulled them down her smooth legs. Once they were off, he leisurely observed her nudity, his eyes sweeping over her wet flesh, flushed and swollen, the warmth radiating from her core made every part of him swell. He slowly guided a hand up her leg.

"Spencer," she breathed, clutching onto him even tighter. "Please."

His fingers brushed her inner thigh, so close to where she burned but not close enough for her to feel the satisfaction she desired. "Please what?"

She whimpered desperately. "Touch me."

"And where do you want me to touch you?"

"Everywhere."

What was a man to do when he was asked with such urgency? Such fervor? Spencer looked up at her and smiled, placing a gentle kiss between her breast before motioning her toward the bed. "Lay on your back."

She did as she was told and when she was finally on her back with him pressed to her side, Y/n shuddered at the touch of fabric from his clothes. There was something vulnerable about being the only one naked, yet somehow the roughness grazing her skin merely intensified her arousal.

She inhaled a sharp breath as she was met with a pair of hooded eyes looking down at her with undeniable lust. She felt electricity in her body, hormones shutting down her higher brain, and from there on in it was all passion, intense, intoxicating. He leaned forward, a hand unhesitatingly pushing her locks out of the way to expose her slender neck. His rapid breathing sent shivers down her spine, his lips almost brushing her ear as she closed her eyes.

Spencer trailed small kisses along her jawline, down to her throat, and pressed another kiss on the spot below her ear. She let out a satisfied moan as he sucked the spot leisurely, feeling herself shudder at his touch, sending her into another trance of delight.

She writhed at the electrifying touch of his fingertips and the thread of control that seemed to remain in him snapped as he lunged at her, pressing into her mouth. She gasped at the force and like the man he grew to be, he took that opportunity to slip his tongue, tasting every corner of her mouth. Her taste overwhelmed his senses as he devoured her, hands sliding in her hair, tugging at her, twisting and moving her to his liking.

Her scent was filling his nostrils, her delicate fragrance intoxicating his brain, pulling him even deeper into the spell she was casting on him. His smile was wicked against her lips as his hand engulfed her breast, feeling her shiver underneath him, her breath becoming rapid as she felt his thumb stroking her nipple.

Her aroused nub tightened at his touch, screaming, begging for his utmost attention. He gladly obliged her desire, his mouth trailing down her collarbone, letting his tongue brush along the curve of her breast before his lips hovered above her swollen peak, ravishing it into his mouth.

She arched her back, a moan escaping her lips as the sensation shot through her body, a thrill of arousal pooling in the heat of her core. He pulled away for a moment before ravishing her other peak, gently tugging it with his teeth before sinking in her flesh with the heat of his mouth.

"Beautiful," he murmured to no one but himself as his eyes took in the sight of her naked chest. His tongue flickered out teasingly on her hardening nub before he looked straight into her eyes. "You're so beautiful."

Then his finger continued its teasing brush, gliding along her skin as she writhed uncontrollably, waiting for him to touch the place she desired the most. It was torture. Evil, wicked torture as he leisurely took his time into taunting her that she let out a frustrated sigh.

"Spencer..."

He smiled amusedly, feigning innocence. "What?"

Y/n was never one to beg. Her job taught her to stand her ground and to be resilient whenever she had to face any type of obstacle. But right now, as his touch burned her skin in ways she never thought possible, she really didn't care.

"Baby, please..."

The unexpected term of endearment sent a sensational thrill along his body before a satisfied grin stretched across his lips. "Now how can I say no to that?"

This time when his hand slipped lower, she slowly suck in an anticipatory breath through her teeth that she held until his fingers swiped achingly light over her slit. She let out an audible gasp when she felt the pressure of his fingers over her, teasing her ever so slightly as her eyes rolled at the back of her head. He ran his fingers between her folds, making her flinch at the sensitivity and without warning, without mercy, they plunge into her.

A heavy tide of delight hit her, tension snapping inside. Strong waves emanate from her core, ecstasy racing through every inch of her body as his fingers swelled inside her wetness, moving at a rapid yet lazy pace. Her hips bucked against his fingers, following every movement they made as they stretched inside her, building the most sensational feeling throughout her body.

She closed her eyes, ready to simply enjoy the thrilling pleasure he was bringing to her when he suddenly pulled his fingers out and she whimpered at the loss. He dragged his tongue along his lips before lying on his back, pulling her along with me. "Come here."

She followed him, her legs on either of his side when he motioned her to move forward. "No," he hissed. There was a sudden shyness in his demeanor but his eyes reflected an immense amount of determination. "Sit on my face."

She gaped at him.

Never in a million years did she ever imagine those words to come out from his lips. If anyone told her that Spencer Reid, a certified genius with an IQ of 187, would ask her to sit on his face, she would've laughed. Yet here she was, crawling over him as he proved to her how lewd he could actually be.

Y/n felt the heat creeping along her cheeks as she settled on top of him, but his reassuring smile threw away any doubt she had in mind. He softly kissed her inner thigh before she lowered herself. She gripped the bed frame in front of her while his tongue flickered between her slit, and hooked his arms around her thighs, holding her in place as he devoured her hot flesh like a man starved.

Oh, fuck.

She must have said that out loud as she felt the vibration of his laughter on her skin. She faintly looked down at him and found his eyes boring into hers, watching her intently as he wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked hungrily. The view was making her dizzy. The way his eyes bore into her own as his tongue wrapped around her wetness made her grind her hips, seeking more of the fraction.

He gave a long, languorous stroke with the flat of his tongue and sucked her into his mouth, tugging ever so slightly she could feel the pull in her throbbing clit. Then he spread his mouth wide over that sensitive nub and sucked even harder, a sudden stabbing sensation making her cry in pleasure. Her whimpers and moans grew louder as the coil in her stomach tightened, his tongue moving faster while he felt her clenching around his mouth.

Y/n could hear how wet she was as he worked her sex relentlessly. The cadence of his tongue was making her delirious. The warm, delicious tingle radiating from his touch was flooding over her that she knew she was approaching the end. His growl rumbled against her wetness as she spasmed, her face a mess of sweat and tears as he lapped up her folds, his tongue sliding into her and pressing on the walls.

And then she shattered—breathlessly, tiredly, heavenly. Her toes curled as she screamed out his name, releasing her grip on the bed frame before burying them in his tousled hair; pulling, grabbing, then throwing herself back as the intensity of the feeling rushed in her blood. She let out a sob as he eased her through her orgasm, rubbing her thighs while they shook around his head.

Her mind went completely blank a few minutes later. She couldn’t think, she couldn’t speak. She merely notice her body shaking with satisfaction as he carefully helped her down, settling her naked body on top of his. The gentle sound of his breathing filled her ears as she felt soothing hands running over her.

They stayed like that, drenched in her sweat with her head on his chest and her legs draped over him. Then after a moment of relishing each other's presence, his deep voice cut through the silence. "You're amazing."

She finally had the will to lift her head up and laughed. "Shouldn't I be the one saying that?"

The indicated compliment made him smile. Silence engulfed them and at that moment it seemed as if there were a lot of things to be said, but somehow neither wanted to initiate the conversation. He pulled her closer and she leaned in his embrace—then his phone rang suddenly before she could even relax.

She groaned. "How much do you want to bet that that's Garcia?"

"Or Hotch." Spencer's hand glided down her back. "We should probably see what they want."

"We should."

But they didn't move and his phone suddenly stopped its chime. Their peace was once again interrupted by another call that came from her phone this time. Y/n let out a sigh. "We should really go."

He nodded, but before she peeled herself off, her eyes cautiously narrowed on him. She could practically feel the blood and adrenaline pumping and coursing through her vein as a rush of hesitation enveloped her. "Can we... finish this later?"

But then her heart brimmed with affection at how his smile lit up, a wide, radiant grin that pierced her skin and traveled straight to her soul. And there he was, underneath the mature lines swept across his handsome face was the adorable man her heart had always ached for.

"Oh, absolutely," he spoke, his fingers trailing over her naked flesh. "We'll definitely finish this later."

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid #spencerreid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x oc #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fluff #Fanfiction #spotify

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poomphuripan · 5 months

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Professional Body Double // My Stand In - a Masterpost

Series Title: My Stand-In (ตัวนาย ตัวแทน)

Director: Pepzi Banchorn Vorasataree (KinnPorsche The Series)

Action Director: Khom Kongkiat Khomsiri (KinnPorsche The Series)

Producer: Yuan Wan Thabkrajang (I Feel You Linger In The Air)

Executive Producer: Poppy Parnsuk Thongrob

Episodes: 12

Aired: Apr 26, 2024 - Jul 12, 2024. Every Friday 8.00 PM.

Original Network: iQIYI

Original Novel Title: Professional Body Double (职业替身)

Author: Shui Qian Cheng (水千丞)

Genres: Adult, Drama, Mature, Romance, Supernatural, Tragedy, Showbiz, Angst

Content warnings: Abusive lover, noncon, house arrest

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Official Synopsis

Joe, the stunt man of famous actor Tong, happened to meet Ming. Having developed a deep relationship, Joe didn’t realise that Ming had always seen him as Tong’s replacement. When the truth is revealed, Joe has to take work on a foreign set where an accident takes his life. When he wakes, Joe’s in the body of a young man named Joe who’d met with an accident on the same day. With help, he’s soon living the same life as he was before—with the same people—and he meets Ming once more. In this life, Ming wants Joe back at his side as before and Joe doesn’t know why. Ming, who’s kept all memories of the old Joe, tries to find the truth about Joe’s continued life in order to return Joe to his side and give him the explanation he never had the chance to.

Main characters

Joe (Zhou Xiang/周翔)

Height: 181 cm

Birthday: October 20

Age: 29

Zodiac: Libra

Occupation: Actor, Stuntman, Martial Arts Body Double, Martial Arts Instructor

Personality: Gentle and generous, optimistic and open-hearted, mature and considerate. Independent. Easy going, not very ambitious, caring towards people around him. His parents and sibling passed away when he was 8 years old.

Ming (Yan MingXiu/晏明修)

Height: 188 cm

Birthday: September 6

Age: 24

Zodiac: Virgo

Occupation: Actor, President of a Mechanized Heavy Industry Company

Personality: Haughty, selfish, lacking in patience, stubborn and persistent towards things he has decided upon. Extremely attractive, cold, indifferent. Youngest of the three Yan siblings. Comes from a wealthy, prestigious family with millitary background.

Supporting characters

Sol (Lan Xi Rong): Young attractive popular actor who was once close to Joe. Sol likes Joe. Played by Porsche Tanathorn.

Tong (Wang Yu Dong): A popular action movie star. Tong is Ming’s crush. Tong is dating Ming's sister, May. Tong eventually marries May and becomes Ming's brother-in-law. Played by Mek Jirakit.

Wut (Paradorn Vesurai): Joe's brother-like close friend, who's also his boss.

Jim (Jiang Yuan): Ming's personal secretary and right hand man. Played by Billy Possathorn.

Mike (Yan Mingsu): Ming’s older brother. Played by Inntouch Naphat.

May (Yan Ming Mei): Ming’s older sister. May eventually becomes Tong's wife later on. Played by Shu Nunnicha.

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Where to read the novel

Chinese raw

English translation

Indonesian translation

Vietnamese translation

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Where to listen to the audio drama adaptation

Season 1

Season 2

Season 1 & 2 on YT with Vietnamese subtitles (Note: OP gonna private this video once the series has finished filming, so if anyone wishes to grab a copy/listen to it, now's the time 🤗)

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Production

Director Pepzi and Executive Producer Yuan first posted a photo captioned "Our new series project" hashtagging the Chinese novel title on 16 February 2023 so pre-production starts around February 2023. Yuan tweeted that My Stand In is the series that took longest to cast (8 months). 6 October 2023 was the fitting for My Stand In. Production begins filming on 16 October 2023.

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For latest updates on My Stand In series, you can follow YYDS Entertainment on Youtube, Twitter, Facebook, IG, Tiktok.

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Source

#my stand in #poom phuripan #poom phuripan sapsangsawat #up poompat #professional body double #thai bl #my stand in the series #my stand-in #mek jirakit #porsche tanathorn #tua nai tua thaen #bl series #danmei adaptation #shui qian cheng #userbunn #me tagging oat as if she's not gonna be the first person to reblog anything about poom phuripan 😭

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d4rkpluto · 2 years

Text

𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔶 𝔬𝔟𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔳𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰 𝔢𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔢𝔫

JUST TO SUPPORT

♇ those who have mars harshly aspecting mercury [ conjunctions included ] have terrible, terrible temper.

♇ aquarius placements really like to tussle or fight, [ including myself lol ] like all the people that used to fight a lot in my school had aqua placements or 11h placements or uranus placements.

♇ mike tyson has uranus aspecting pluto

♇ joseline hernandez an aqua mars

♇ i, an aquarius sun and im known for my moments here on tumblr

♇ people who have neptune aspect the ascendant, specifically sextile, get away with stuff, like a lot.

♇ having jupiter in the second house causes someone to have a big appetite to the point they dont know when to stop, well not all of them

♇ i think i mentioned this before but having sagittarius in your big six, or prominent in your chart, jupiter in your 1h or 4h along with it being prominent in your chart indicates that there is something foreign about your lineage. many people i've met who've had sag degrees, sag in their big six or whatever were always foreign.

♇ those with juno in the first house might be perceived as marriage material.

♇ those with south node in their 11h might've had a lot of karmic friends. or could've had friends that were friends with them in the past life.

♇ south node in the 7h = karmic relationships.

♇ south node isnt really spoken about in astrology; well tumblr, the south node doesnt only speak about your past life it can also speak about the present. the south node is known to be talented when it comes to spiritual gifts, if it is aspecting your moon it is a beacon of you being very spiritually talented. especially if it is aspecting your ceres or neptune.

♇ people with sagittarius and aquarius in their big two and not taking anything seriously or being very smiley people; bonus if aries is in their big six

-♇ i once had a post about how jupiter/neptune natives are truly the most loved. princess diana a sagittarius rising, michael jackson a pisces rising, and marilyn monroe had neptune in her first house. out of every celebrities, their death are always spoke about till this day.

♇ chiron in the 12h in a synastry or composite indicates of past life relationship; chiron in 12h natal chart definitely means there's some healing from the past life you need to do currently.

♇ those with cancer in there big six, specifically big three or prominent 4h placements have internet/youthful humour.

♇ sagittarius risings are also known for their smiles! and as it rules over the dolls, i must've said it before, but it makes them give big bratz vibes.

♇ main fandom houses are the 7h, 9h and 11h, so if you wanna see how your fans would be check there!

♇ even though leo is a fame sign, the main one is actually pisces; leo is more theatre kid and pisces is more flashlights, paparazzi and glamour.

♇ 20° is the ultimate obsessive degree, celebrities that are heavily fixated a lot have this degree in their chart, is the type of fame indicator which gets people hooked, for example, beyonce, ariana grande; ariana who has it on her rising and her appearance is always debated and copied. nba youngboy, travis scott, kim kardashian, kylie jenner, billie eilish, aaliyah, and selena gomez and so on.

♇ the degree is also an indicator of witch craft or just being around it or people theorise them doing it.

♇ pluto in 4h/12h/scorpio moon/8h moon/cancer 8h/cancer 12h = hidden pregnancy, or not being seen in public pregnant.

pluto

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fineillmakeaslasherblog · 1 year

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What would it be like the first time the masked boys show their face to their s/o?

I assume you don't mean to include Billy and Stu since, while they wear masks, it's not a 24/7 thing like with the others. Anyway, I have very strong feelings about this topic so I'm very excited to dive in haha

OG!Michael Myers:

If you see his bare face, it is never for extended periods of time. He will take off his mask when strictly necessary (which is usually just when eating, maybe a kiss if he's feeling charitable, and the once a blue moon you convince him to bathe), but it goes right back on as soon as he's done.

This is not a matter of not trusting you. If he allowed you to see his face at all, that's already about the biggest show of trust he can give. Nor is he particularly insecure about his appearance, so compliments will do little to sway him.

Rather, in his eyes, his mask is his real face. The face that's made of flesh is the face of a Michael that died a long time ago, and seeing it in the mirror feels unnatural.

As such, the first time he takes his mask off in front of you, it is unceremonious and with no warning. The best thing for you to do is not react at all. You may mean well by complimenting him or thanking him for letting you see his face, but the way he sees it, if you prefer his 'real' face, then you prefer a Michael that doesn't actually exist.

Choose your words and actions wisely. Despite his seeming nonchalance, this is the moment that could make or break any kind of future for the two of you.

RZ!Michael Myers:

Okay, RZ!Michael is pretty distinctly different from his OG counterpart here. His relationship with his mask, while no less important, is significantly... easier to navigate.

He does not see any of his masks as a literal extension of himself, and his face doesn't seem foreign to him. In fact, the problem is kind of the opposite.

Masks provide a sense of comfort and, more importantly, privacy in ways he had never experienced prior. After years of being observed and having his every move scrutinized, covering his face is one of the few ways he could keep himself hidden even from himself.

Over the years, he has come to see it as just important a piece of clothing as any other. What this means for you, though, is that he would likely allow you to see his face way before OG Michael would (though it would still take time)

Much like his counterpart, the first time was likely borne from necessity, but unlike him, RZ!Michael definitely made sure you knew that this wasn't something to take lightly. He wouldn't break eye contact with you the entire time (not that he usually does). To the untrained eye, he may appear cold or even angry, but if you've reached this point, you'd be able to tell that he's on-edge, analyzing your every move and gauging every microexpression.

Luckily, if you know him fairly well, it's reasonably easy to pass this test. Compliments are acceptable this time, but don't overdo it. You don't want him to feel under even more of a spotlight than he already does.

He also would eventually be willing to keep it off for more than a minute or two at a time if he's in a good enough mood, though you'd have to ask him directly. He simply sees no reason to keep it off for his own purposes, but may indulge you on occasion.

Bubba Sawyer:

Bubba isn't particularly afraid of you seeing his face, but he isn't thrilled with the idea either.

His masks, while not a literal identity like OG!Myers, is certainly a way for him to express his identity more freely. Not just when it comes to gender expression, but in general.

Besides, his is the only mask where his mouth is exposed, so there's no practical reason for him to take it off in front of you and he simply doesn't see the appeal.

You would definitely need to ask because he probably wouldn't take that initiative for a very long time, if ever. And even when you do ask, he would initially panic and slip away.

It takes a bit for him to come around to the idea and for you to assure him that you don't want him to give up his masks altogether, you just want to know what his face looks like.

When he finally does it, you're hidden away in a room alone together to ensure that you have privacy. He would stall for as long as possible, but when he can't wait any longer, he practically rips it off before he can have any second thoughts.

Please give him lots of kisses and affection. He's already clingy at the best of times, but like this, he thinks he might die if you let go of him.

Brahms Heelshire:

Okay, deep breath, we've gotten through the really complicated ones and are moving on to the more basic "insecure about their appearance" boys.

Brahms is desperately starved for any kind of positive attention. (Or attention in general, which is exactly why he acts out. Any attention is better than no attention.)

The fact that you talk to him and care for him without even seeming to be terrified at every moment like his parents were is nothing short of a miracle in his eyes, and he would sooner die than put that in jeopardy, so any change is a threat.

This includes you wanting to see his face. While his scarring certainly isn't the reason his parents treated him the way they did (after all, their apprehension had started even before the fire), it is still a risk. He doesn't know how you'll react, and that's unacceptable.

It would take a lot of convincing. Even if you have prominent scars yourself, it wouldn't help much since he insists that it's "different" with you, whatever that means.

Patience is key here, as well as finding a balance between not pressuring him while also making it clear that you haven't changed your mind about wanting to see his face. Eventually, though, he gives in.

He's visibly shaking the first time he takes it off and you have to get him to set the mask down before he drops it. Even still, he's staring at the ground, and should you guide his face towards you, he still averts his eyes. He's immediately regretting doing this and certain that you must be looking at him in horror. He can't stand to see that.

Be gentle here. Again, this is about balance. Brahms desperately needs reassurance right now, but at the same time, don't invalidate his insecurities by telling him the scarring "isn't that bad" or that he shouldn't have been worried.

Honestly, a simple "I love you" will probably do you better than most comments about his appearance, at least for now. Unpacking his insecurities can come later, but right now, he just needs to know that you aren't leaving him.

Jason Voorhees:

Okay so here's the thing people forget about Jason: he's the only one of these last three who had an adult in his life who treated him well as a child. Does he still have insecurities? Sure he does! Is he traumatized? Boy howdy is he ever! But he's generally coming from a place of at least being able to fathom being loved in a healthy way.

As such, I think he'd have revealed his face to you the soonest of these six. He doesn't see the mask as a fundamental piece of his identity (at least, no moreso than a uniform), and if you've reached a point where he'll stay with you for extended periods of time, he probably already trusts you a considerable amount. If he had any reason to believe you'd reject him for his appearance, he wouldn't have stayed around to find out.

I honestly think he's the only one of the six who would want you to be the one to take his mask off (with his permission, of course). This is both because he's a dork and wanted to make sure this was A Special Moment, and also simply wanting the reassurance that you can back out if you change your mind.

He's so fucking cute about it, too. Because you are almost definitely shorter than him (speaking as a tall person), he sits down so that you can reach his face more easily. He seems fairly collected at a glance, but you can see him wringing his hands. It's not that he thinks you'll react badly, but...

Pretty much any positive reaction will result in a very happy Jason on your hands. Compliments will earn you a very cute blush, but if you really want to make a mess of him, just kiss him before you say anything and he will damn near pass out on the spot.

Moving forward, as long as you're somewhere hidden away, he will be very happy to oblige you if you ask him to keep his mask off for a bit. Especially if you bribe him with kisses.

Vincent Sinclair:

Okay, we all know Vincent has a really weird relationship with his face. (Thanks, Trudy.) He would definitely want you to see his face at some point, but if you don't show any indication of being interested yourself, I'm not sure he'd ever work up the nerve.

You can and should be a little more pushy with him than you'd be with the others. He isn't as delicate as he seems. (I mean he puts up with Bo ffs) Obviously don't be TOO mean about it, but firm nudges will go a long way.

There would be several times that he planned on taking his mask off but backed out at the last second, which honestly gets kind of infuriating. Eventually, he realizes he won't be able to do it while you're watching him (at least not yet) and decides to instead just take off his mask while alone in his studio and wait for you to come down.

You nearly have a heart attack when you go down and see his mask sitting on a table, Vincent himself standing rigidly and staring at the wall with his back turned to you.

You will have to approach him yourself to get him to turn around, and when he does, his eyes are locked on you in an instant, trying to gauge your reaction.

Strangely, it probably isn't a particularly emotional conversation. Between his stiffness and you having been taken entirely off-guard, nothing flows that naturally. Maybe a few comments from your end and a few laconic signs from him in response, and that's the end of it.

The emotional part comes later that evening, once you've both processed what happened. He apologizes for coming off as sharp, but you can't exactly blame him.

The mask comes off again, with more warning this time, and now there can be a proper back-and-forth.

Please touch his face, especially the scar tissue. It hasn't been touched in so long (even by himself), it has become incredibly sensitive, and he will melt immediately.

Feel free to use this knowledge in other contexts too ;)

#gn reader #house of wax #texas chainsaw massacre #vincent sinclair #bubba sawyer #halloween #friday the 13th #jason voorhees #og michael myers #rz michael myers #the boy #brahms heelshire #slashers x reader #headcanons

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livingfast04 · 1 year

Text

Monster Au? - Part 6

one two three four five II seven Tw: Body Horror, disordered Eating, anxiety, dehumanization, refences to past child abuse, depression, suicidal thoughts, very mild nudity (not descriptive, it's just brief mention of being naked) It might get worse from here. Sorry not sorry ---

Steve stares at himself, all long monster-ish limbs, the lines of his ribcage. His fingers shake as he reaches up to hover his hands over the concave of his stomach, he stares at his reflection, at the unnatural long fingers- his thin fingers, discolored nail beds and the freckles that cover the backs of his hands, trace up his arms.

He doesn’t recognize the thing that stares back at him.

The bones that rest so visibly under his skin, the vivid violet mark across his neck. Mama says it’ll scar, just like his stomach, it’ll scar worse since it’s all so old. Steve’s ears twitch, ducking his head to hide his eyes under his hair. The wavy strands are too long, this form gone too long without a haircut, his bangs just slightly brush over the top of his lip.

He wants to shorten them, wants the strands to tuck back across his forehead. Steve reaches up, he curls his fingers around the hair, hands shaking with visible tremors as he does. It rattles in front of his face. The white scars over his knuckles, eyes darting down to his hand still posed just over his sides. The scars there.

The only parts that have actually healed. Of course it’s his hands. The smaller marks, the cuts, scared over, pale and disgusting. The new bite marks on his palm, the imprint of jagged teeth. His own sharp teeth. On his other palm is a darker set of scarred skin, more flower-like- more deformed. A monster more monster than those who live in this world.

His hands healed the fastest. The rest of his body struggled to catch up. Steve turned his gaze back to the mirror, met the dark eyes blinking back at him from behind his fringe. There’s the familiar relief, even at his dislike for the longer strands of hair- pushing the waves out of his eyes. He traces the crook in his nose, the small white scars that line his left eye-

Billy Hargroves handy work.

The scar on his chin, arched up and speared over his lips- the scar tissue was rough, he ran his tongue over it. The scar around his eye, both Russians and Hargrove. Steve lets out a long breath. He stares at the thing that looks back at him, moves with him, blinks when he does.

It’s nauseating.

Mama clicks from down the hall, Steve turns and his throat is raw as he calls back on instinct, the noise is weak and hardly passes his lips. Mama calls again, stronger- she’s looking for him, Da clicks from his office. Steve grabs the sweater sitting on the counter, pulling it over his head before remembering the rows of stitches and the bandages he’s supposed to cover them with. It doesn’t matter. Steve stumbles out of the bathroom, Mama is standing in the bedroom- their bedroom. Steve feels like a baby, a cub- tucked away in their nest. His parents had hardly let him leave the room, his Mama clicked at him, Steve ducked his head behind his hair- he wasn’t complaining.

All his parents expected of him was to eat, sleep, and cuddle. And god did Steve want to snuggle back up in their bed with

them. Mama crossed the room, her fingers tracing over his face, pushing Steve’s hair out of his eyes gently. “How are you feeling?” Steve leans into the touch, his Mama letting out a soft coo.

“Better.” The word felt clunky in his mouth, with sharp teeth, and scars that stretch on his skin. He hasn’t said much of anything lately, other than rough clicks, and a few single words here or there. Throat too raw, the feeling of his tongue against his teeth foreign.

Mama hummed, continuing to drag her fingers through his hair. She cupped his jaw, his ears twitched, pressing his cheek into her hold. “There’s a snack out on the counter in the kitchen for you. Even if you aren’t all that hungry you have to eat one of them.” Steve wrinkled his nose, but gave a soft click in agreement. Least of all he starts an argument or displeases his parents and they leave him.

His chest was tight at the thought.

Steve trailed after his Mother as she left the room, her form shifting a little, hair curling up around the nape of her neck and turning a soft honey blonde. Steve swallowed around nothing as he passed her to head to the kitchen. She clicked loud enough that Steve could hear her, and his Father responded.

There was an unopened cup of yogurt on the table, and a bowl of fruit. His teeth ached, pulling out a stool at the counter- he dropped down onto it, legs twisting up to rest on the seat.

Steve’s hands shook as he picked out a strawberry from the bowl, pressing it against the roof of his mouth, squishing the soft fruit. Mama had added sugar, his fingers sticky as he kept just picking out the soft fruits. A few grapes, a few orange slices- but mostly strawberries.

Steve licked at his fingers, shifting his weight on the stool as his knee started to ache. He could hear his parents talking, it was muffled, and sounded a little bit like he was underwater. If they wanted him to know, they’d talk about it where he could see them. If anything it was probably about work, Steve squished another piece of fruit against the roof of his mouth, and he really didn’t care to think about them leaving him again.

He can’t, it’ll ruin him. Steve picks at the few apples in the bowl, digging his nail into the fruit.

Mama brushes through the house, Steve twisted slightly to watch her as she came into the kitchen she tugged on a piece of his hair. Da followed her in, brushing his hand over Steve’s shoulder. He also picks up a piece of apple from the bowl of fruit.

Steve can’t stop himself from lifting his lips, growling at him, shoulders tense and lifted up by his ears. His thoughts tumble from his hands with little grace, the low noise claws up his throat- fingers digging into the ceramic of the bowl and dragging it towards him. Eyes flicking from his Father’s frozen fingers, and his Mother’s face.

His growl tapers off, lips still curled. Steve’s hair falling in his face from where Mama had pushed it back. The tension in the room was almost tangible, Steve felt shame flood his face, and he fumbled, he was mortified. His parents where just staring at him, “Sorry- sorry, I-”

They were going to leave again, they were going to leave him again- They were going to leave him, they know- they know he’s a monster

Steve’s body protested as he all but fell off the stool as he struggled to get his leg unwound to stand up. His heart hammered in his throat, “I didn’t-” the words came out rough, and garbled. Da makes a soft click, followed by a soothing noise- Steve jerks at the noise, ears flicking sharply.

He shuffles away from the counter, shoving the bowl of fruit towards his Father. Steve avoided eye contact, shoulders hunched, his sides protested, his whole body hurts. Mama coos, “Stephan.” Father’s voice is sharp, he jerks a little at the tone. Steve won’t meet his eyes, but he knows better that it’ll be worse if he doesn’t at least look in the direction of his Father.

There’s a soft scraping noise as the bowl is pushed on the countertop. “You are alright Bub.” His voice is firm, but soft, “It’s yours, I wasn’t thinking.” Food possessive, aggressive. Steve follows the length of his old man’s hand, the apple still in his fingers. Steve blinks, stumbling slightly as he reaches back of the bowl, curling his arms around it and lifting it to his chest.

It’s sad, just a little, that Steve’s clinging to a bowl like a child clings to a toy. He knows it is, his father holds out the apple slice, he jerks at the sudden movement, shuffling back a little bit, lips curling.

Face flushed, shame curling in his stomach, but something heavy in his chest.

“Just- keep it.” He shuffled out of the kitchen, and into the living room. Retreating, away- just get away. Steve avoided the furniture, it still smelled like The Party, Mama had ordered all new sets of things, but it wasn’t due to arrive for a few more weeks.

Steve clung to the bowl, body aching as he fled. Pressing his back against the wall, sliding down to sit in the corner.

His parents' voices were quiet, and he stared down at the mix of fruit. They were going to remember he isn’t worth the effort eventually. That they never thought he was worth the effort.

They were going to realize just like The Party had, that Steve was useless.

---

Eddie curled his legs closer to his chest, the blanket was sticking to his legs, his sheets, honestly his hair was in his face and couldn’t care less. It had been far too long since he’d let himself linger, wallow, lay in his own misery. Eddie won’t say he misses it, it doges his footsteps outside of his room. It’s just harder to avoid now.

Clinging to imprint bonds he’s angry at having- clinging to a bond that he should have loved a little more.

He knows this upsets Wayne, knows it because his Uncle is loud about his dislike for Eddie’s mild comatose state every time he does it. And it’s- it’s not like Eddie wallows a lot, it’s hard to, because he has to get up- has to check on people, see them, know they are okay. And sure, Eddie knows, he’s a dramatic person at heart.

But this is different.

Normally it’s like this because he’s upset, when sadness clings and doesn’t let go. Eddie’s never been rendered numb by anger before. He’s fucked this all up because he thought he knew the most.

That in and of itself is a common mistake of his. Thinking he knows all because he should, because Eddie knows best. He’s a firm believer that he's never wrong, at least until he is. This, this isn’t a simple fuck up. This is a fuck up of all fuck ups.

Everything’s been riding on holding on to the idea that he hasn’t screwed this all up this badly, for three weeks, he’s been living in anger- and in guilt, and in shame. And now- now he’s just empty.

Mind narrowed in on the rough thump of Steve’s heart beat, the shaky nervousness of the younger heartbeat. It’s easier this way, to ignore the fact that if he gives in and goes to Steve, everyone’s just winning at the end of the day. Everyone but Steve.

Eddie won’t participate, he won’t, he won’t get involved, he won’t slowly kill Steve again. No matter how many calls the kids make to the trailer, no matter how many times the radio goes off for someone to shout at him. Eddie refuses.

Imprinting is sacred, and they all know that. Eddie would rather- he would rather, Eddie swallows- his tongue a heavy weight in his mouth. He can hear Wayne talking to someone in the living room, he knows that a few of the kids have been actually over, banging on the door, shouting- especially after Eddie turned off the walkie.

He blinks, staring at nothing.

There’s a door shutting, and footsteps down the hall. His door creaks open, Eddie doesn’t move, doesn’t even feel like breathing- then he’ll get a mouth full of whoever it is, whose disappointment and anger he has to face. “You can’t hold your breath forever.” Gareth.

Eddie lets out a shaky breath, curling his fingers a little more around the blanket in his fist. “You know when Wayne told me you where wallowing, I almost wanted to tell him to fuck off.” It would be valid, all of his friends would be within their right to tell him to eat shit and die.

Gareth flopped down on the other side of Eddie’s bed. The weight caused him to move slightly, “But, then he explained it… I should still tell you to fuck off.” He should, he should- it would be more than Eddie deserved, this was more than Eddie deserved. “Collector of strays and you kicked Harrington to the curb the second he wasn’t unnatural?” Gareth was only partially supernatural, witchy but not quite. Eddie knows the other doesn’t fully practice his bloodline.

He was just as human as anyone else is, even with magic in his blood. “That was shitty.”

“Y’ah.” Eddie doesn’t recognize his own voice, his lips are dry and the movement cracks them. Gareth makes a noise, and Eddie blinks a little harder.

They sat in silence for a while longer, the fan running in the background was good filler for space- at least for Gareth, maybe Eddie wouldn’t know. Too busy using Steve’s heartbeat as background noise, his brain unfogged a little at the lack of tunnel vision.

Gareth poked him in the ribs with his elbow, “You stink.” Eddie hummed, letting out a soft mmm sound at the comment. He probably did, no, he did. Eddie had been laying unmoving in this bed for people over a week. Drifting between sleep and completely zoned out. He can’t remember the last time he ate anything, or the last time he got up to go to the bathroom.

Not that he really needed to do those things, Vampire and all. Well he did, but it wasn't super necessary, not for short term living. Eddie couldn’t lay here forever, sure he’d live for years like this before eventually his mind would crumble, and what little beating his heart would do would just stop.

That would be kinder than what they were doing to Steve.

“You should shower.” Probably. Eddie didn’t make a noise this time, kept quiet, didn’t have the energy to really respond, didn’t want to move, didn’t want to get up. Gareth jabbed him again, and he twisted on base reaction - his body jerking away from the aggressive movement. “Alright I’m done,” Gareth shoved him, hard. Eddie wasn’t unfamiliar with falling out of his own bed, but never this violently. He jerked letting out a loud unhappy hiss, fumbling to grab anything at the sudden movement before landing face first on the carpeted floor. His forehead knocking hard, and the responding thump rattled the items on the walls of the trailer.

It’s like something sharp has popped his bubble, something pressing on his skin, anger welling up in his throat. “What the fuck.” The words are muffled in the carpet, rough and Eddie can’t even identify the tone in his own voice. He can hear Gareth moving around his bed, “What the fuck.” The tone is mocking, mimicking, “You are the most annoying motherfucker in this forsaken town, and you are worse when you feel like you’ve wronged someone. Or you know. So you are going to get your sorry ass out of this goddamn trailer, and apologize. Or so help me, I will take your fucking Guitar and sell it to some punk fuck in Indy.”

Eddie twists his head around, to just stare at him. He slowly processes the words, Eddie works his jaw, careful to keep his teeth from touching, his lip curls without his permission. “Don’t y’u fuck’n dare.” His fangs dig into his lower lip, face flushing hot as his lisp regestures.

Gareth doesn’t look amused with him in the slightest. “Go take a fucking shower.” His retreating form almost mocks Eddie, almost. The carpet is rough on his skin, a cast off belt is digging into his stomach. Curling his fingers, Eddie pushes himself up on his elbows and struggles to sit back on his knees.

Vision spinning, head rush, vertigo, dizzy spell- didn’t matter. He breathed heavily through his nose before stumbling to his feet, swaying in place, room giving a valiant effort to move around him.

Standing in the hallway between the living room, Wayne’s door- and the bathroom. Eddie made eye contact with Gareth, who was just staring at him. Opening and then closing his mouth, his eyebrows furrowed. There was nothing to say, Eddie was- he hissed, more at himself than anything else and jerked his gaze down to stare at the carpet.

Even if it was a new trailer, it was still the same old muddy as fuck trailer park. The carpet was tracked through, over- he doesn’t know the exact term. It doesn’t matter, he stares at the mud stains instead of looking at Wayne or Gareth. Least his shame climb out of his skin, shed his muscles on the floor and bare its gnarled teeth for the rest of the world to see.

“I can smell you from here.” Eddie’s shoulders hitch up by his ears.

His fangs are still down, pressing sharply against his lower lip, and he grables out “I’m fuckin goin’.” around the awkward shape of his teeth at his friend and stumbles into the wall when he turns around. Eddie jerks, stepping back on shaky legs, he shakes himself off.

Embarrassment doesn't even claw its way to the surface, Eddie swallows, his tongue dry, pressing against the back of his teeth, running over the texture, the shape of each tooth. Righting is orientation in the hallway, and the bathroom door- Eddie tried again.

Knocking against the doorframe, but ultimately, he made it in the bathroom without running fully into a wall again. He fumbles around, shedding his shirt, Eddie pauses, blinking long and hard against the dark of the bathroom. Fingers finding the light switch, he kicks out with his foot to finish closing the door.

Eddie shoves at his shorts, and kicks them off- slamming his hip into the counter in the process. Hissing lightly, he twisted around in the small space to turn on the shower, soaking the bathroom for a split second, cursing sluggishly and loud- as he struggled to pull the curtain too.

Letting out a rough huff, already fucking soaked, Eddie jerked the curtain back. Stepping over the tub ledge, mildly proud of himself when he didn’t fucking trip on it, and closed the cutrain behind him.

The water was warm, Eddie hadn’t realized just how cold he was before now. It was a jar to his system, it wasn’t unusual for him to be cold. Vampire and all, but he did- you know have a heartbeat, and some blood that actually belonged to him. It just didn't replenish, it was a whole thing. Doesn’t matter.

The point is, it was like waking the fuck up. His stomach growled, finally realizing that it was empty. Eddie stood under the spray for a little longer, curling into the warmth, letting it settle into his bones. Thinks about what they have in the fridge, and chews on his lip as he gets the shampoo bottle off the shelf.

Going through the motions to clean himself, rushing towards the end at the demands of his stomach. Steve’s heart still thumps in the background, but Eddie isn’t hyper focused, he’s not zoned in on it. It’s white noise for him now.

Drying his hair roughly, not really bothering with anything other than straightening his bangs in the foggy mirror. Rubbing the water clinging to the glass, Eddie stares at his slightly out of focus reflection. Wayne had tried his best to get non-silver and rather aluminum backed mirrors.

But- Eddie got his hand wet under the sink, running his fingers through his bangs. Dropping the towel he used to dry his hair on the floor, shoving at it with his foot to kick it out of the general small walk space.

He shuffles out of the bathroom to his bedroom, shuts the door behind him and sets out to find the cleanest item of clothing in his room. Eddie knows he has clean underwear, and he digs those out of the dresser first.

Spinning around, staring at the rest of his room, Eddie notices a little dumbly that his hamper is full of clean clothes. Instantly he feels bad, he steps over, staring into the basket, he hadn’t even noticed that Wayne had done his laundry. He picks out a shirt from the pile, thumbing at the soft feeling before yanking it over his head, wet curls sticking to his neck.

A pair of jeans that are laid over the back of his chair. Eddie sits on his bed to pull them on, still dizzy, and honestly not really sure he could get them on standing up without falling over.

Eddie sits there for a moment, fidgeting with his pants button, just staring at the wall- mind clinging to the sound of Steve’s heart beat, it jumps a little- racing harsh and loud, and continues to do so. His gums itched, his skin too tight- something as wrong-

His stomach growls.

Right, right- Steve’s fine, he’ll be okay- Eddie, Eddie can check on him. Apologize. He just needs to eat first.

It’s a quiet affair, Eddie leaving his bedroom, walking into the kitchen, and getting a blood pop shoved at him. His eyes zero in, and he sticks the cold treat in his mouth instantly. Eddie lets out a groan, his teeth digging into the popsicle, Gareth basically herds him towards the couch and Eddie goes willingly. Laving his tongue over the bloodpop.

It takes him probably ten minutes to eat the entire thing, and he gnaws on the stick when he’s finished, sinking his teeth into the wood with little care for the fragility of them. Wayne growls, Eddie jerks his eyes over to him, pulling his teeth out of the stick.

Wayne holds out his hand, Eddie’s fingers are steady as he drops the bite riddled popsicle stick in his uncle's hand. Gareth elbows him again, “Eat.” Half baked meat cubes. Eddie tucks his knees up to his chest, resting the plate on top of them, gnawing on the cubes of meat almost absently. His best friend and his uncle are quiet. Eddie sinks his teeth into the cube, staring at the TV, it’s turned off. It wasn’t before- the screen is still static like. “I need to apologize.” “Yeah, you do.” Gareth’s voice is sharp, angry, fair enough. Eddie’s being stupid. “I don’t even like Harrington and I know you are being a dickwad.”

Eddie makes a face, darting his eyes to look over to Wayne. His Uncle was staring at him with an unreadable expression. Furrowing his brow, “Pops?” Wayne grumbles, his expression hardening. Swallowing hard, Wayne doesn’t look at him like that very often. A handful of times where Wayne’s really pressed rank, Eddie ducks his head slightly, not making eye contact. “Not for them, you understand me Edward? You apologize to that boy, because he deserves it, not ‘cause that group of yours wants to use him.” Eddie’s eyes go wide, “You apologize to that boy, and you fix this.” He nods, jerking his head up and down for a long moment sending his vision spinning. “Today.”

Eddie shoves another cube in his mouth, “Yes sir.” His voice is quiet, muffled around the piece of meat, but Wayne rumbles softly, Eddie tracks the movement of his Uncle reaching out to pull on one of his curls.

“‘M not mad at ya’ Eds,” Hesitant eye contact, the words are gruff, in all the ways that his Uncle always is, “disappointed, but not mad.” Eddie nods his head like a poor bobble head. “I’m fucking mad at you.” Gareth’s voice is sharp, “I’m so angry at you, how dare you-” “Gareth.” Eddie tucks his head down, “Later.” Wayne’s voice is sharper now, Gareth has no position here, and he knows the wix knows it too, snapping his mouth shut, jaw making an audible click. Teeth colliding aggressively, Eddie cringes, sympathy for the other’s teeth.

They sit in silence as Eddie finishes eating, slower on the last few pieces, anxiety pooling in his limbs as he goes. Mind focusing back on Steve’s heart beat as he goes about the motions of putting on socks, shoes, staring at Gareth’s retreating back as the younger leaves the trailer, slamming the door behind him. Eddie tosses his keys back and forth in his hands. “I fucked up.” quiet, hardly above a whisper. It’s not for anyone but himself, Wayne won’t respond- he knows, knows that Eddie’s talking to himself- it’s, it’s- this is all so fucked.

He says goodbye to Wayne, tells him he’ll call him, and heads out. The ride is eerie, silent, Eddie doesn’t bother with turning on the radio. He’s not worthy of a distraction, ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Steve, I didn’t- I didn’t mean to hurt you, I didn’t mean to do any of this, and I’m so sorry you got hurt, I’m sorry we hurt you. That I hurt you.’ It felt- pathetic, wasteful, mouthful of words, empty, empty words. Why would Steve even listen to him? He’s done nothing but hurt the younger boy.

Eddie has been nothing but cruel to Steve.

Only Steve's BMW was parked in the driveway, Eddie parked on the street. I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry. For all of it- He smashed his hand against the steering wheel, fumbling to turn his van off. The keys rattle in the silence of the space. It feels oddly more like a death march walking up to the house, than the ride to kill Vecna did; walking up to the door, the world was so loud. Each of his steps loud against his ears. Competing with the steady thump of Steve’s heartbeat in his own chest.

Eddie stood in front of the door, staring at the wood, breathing harshly through his nose. And he knocked, cracking his knuckles against the colored wood, Steve’s pulse jumps, rocks against his ears and Eddie whines behind his teeth. I’m so sorry- I’m so sorry- There’s a little bit of shouting in the house, the hair on the back of his neck raises. Steve’s heart beat swells closer, and Eddie rocks back on his heels. Anxiety resting against his collar bones, pooling on his tongue. The door opens-

Steve looks terrible, Eddie’s heart aches, his teeth itch, and his bones claw at his skin. His hair is long, and falling in his face, there’s scars on his face that Eddie had never seen before, the line around his neck- the one from the demo-bats, it’s stark against his skin. Steve’s eyes widen, and Eddie’s hands shake at his sides.

“Hi?”

--- Bloop. Sorry that this took forever, took a tiny break, and then fist fought writers block for far longer than I should have. And if anyone knows me From "An Untuned Piano" I tend to get sick, get better, and then get sick again. So, currently- sick. 0/10, at least I didn't get an incredibly high fever and then decide I was going to write, rewrite the plot, and fuck myself over... again. (I may have also fucked up my hand somewhere in between-) I'm not the happiest with this, because I couldn't put together exactly what I had pictured in my head. But it's whatever. It's fine. The next part I know what I want to do, and what I want to get done. Some of it's already finished- so it shouldn't be too long. !! Thank you for your very sweet feedback!! And to the one person who keeps leaving me very nice comments and then asking me to post it on ao3, I will! I just have a very specific word count that my brain makes me reach before I can think about posting something. I'll post it pretty soon, though it will probably be in a two-shot.

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