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Imperfect Storm | Billy Hargrove
- Stranger Things
- x Reader
❪ FEM! ❫ ❪ adult aroace virgin attempts to write smut ❫ ❪ Altitude ❫
───── ❝ description + disclaimer ❞ ─────
𖥻 Billy Hargrove x AFAB+FEM!reader, in which there’s nowhere to escape. OR in which unexpected downpour and the start of a hurricane locks down Hawkins High trapping studious and rebellious together for hours.
𖥻 established relationships. bffs with steve bc im lazy. i could not for the life of me think up a reason from them to be fighting, sorry. a lot of plot and scattered corn with a p. light choking. 15,729 words
───── ❝ introduction❞ ─────
In the small town of Hawkins, Indiana, amidst the echoes of adventure and whatever we were told to believe was really going on in the mysteries of the lab, I navigated the familiar corridors of Hawkins High School with an air of quiet determination.
Clad in the same hoodie I think i'd worn to school every other day this week I blended seamlessly into the background. The simple jumper embraces me, shielding me from both the chills of the hallways and enigmatic pull of the township.
Behind my glasses, my eyes observe the world around me with a mixture of curiosity and caution, silently analyzing the dynamics that play out around me. The crowds in the halls split into their cliques and leave me feeling left behind as the gather into their little groups and start chatting.
Billy, the embodiment of rebellion and unpredictable predictability, strides through the halls with a seemingly magnetic presence. His confidence and smoldering gaze are s stark contrast to the usually reserved demeanor of people in Hawkins.
In his presence, I am simultaneously drawn to his charismatic energy and apprehensive of the unknown depths beneath his charismatic facade.
As I delve into my locker, mentally seeking solace, I find myself lost in thought. Attempting to unravel the mysteries of my own life.
It is within these moments of quiet introspection that my thoughts of Billy begin to infiltrate my mind, disrupting the careful equilibrium i've cultivated.
Though our paths rarely intersect, our lives have briefly intertwined during multiple chance encounters, and although they usually resulted in tense exchanges and snarky comments, something stirred within me- A curiosity that transcended the boundaries of my studious world. As I peered past his tough exterior, I could catch a glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes, a flicker of a troubled soul that yearned for understanding.
In Hawkins, where extraordinary occurrences seemed to intertwine with the mundane, I had managed to find myself cautiously navigating the uncharted territories of the heart.
As Billy swaggered into the bustling halls of Hawkins High, his eyes scanned the crowd for a potential target to amuse himself with.
As I stood by my locker, lost in my own thoughts, a sudden jolt shook me from my daydream. I stumbled forward, my belongings slipping from my grasp and clattering to the ground. It took me a moment to realize what had happened—Billy, the epitome of arrogance, had deliberately knocked into me.
Anger flared within me, and embarrassment tinged my cheeks. It seemed that Billy took delight in humiliating others for his own amusement. The laughter that escaped his lips only fueled my frustration, intensifying the need to show him that he couldn’t simply walk all over people.
I swiftly knelt down to gather my scattered books and papers, my mind seething with defiance. I refused to let his actions break my spirit. As I rose back to my feet, I met his gaze head-on, a fire burning in my eyes.
───── ❝ fight❞ ─────
"Billy, I can't help it notice your constant need for attention. It's like you thrive on pushing people's buttons and causing unnecessary drama."
His eyes narrowed, and a cocky smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. "Oh, sweetheart, just trying to keep things interesting. Can't have this boring town lull me to sleep now, can we?"
took a deep breathe, attempting to suppress the surge of anger that threatened to consume me. "You know, not everyone finds your reckless behaviour captivating. It's exhausting, Billy. It's one thing to be confident, but it's another to treat people like disposable playthings."
He leaned in, his voice dripping with dosain. "Well, maybe you're just too uptight, never willing to take a risk. You think you're better than everyone else don't you?"
My temper flared, and I met his gaze with unwavering intensity. "No, Billy, I don't think I'm better than anyone. But unlike you, I don't go around hurting others just to fill a void inside me. Maybe if you too a moment to look beyond your own ego, you'd see the damage you're causing."
Billy's expression hardened, his words laced with bitter edge. "You don't know a damn thing about me. You don't know what it's like to fight for every scrap of happiness in a messed-up world."
I shook my head, my voice filled with frustration. "And what about everyone else? Do their feelings not matter? Your actions have consequences, Billy. You can't keep treating people like collateral damage in your personal war."
He scoffed, his voice now full of derision. "Spare me the lecture, sweetheart. Not all of us can hide behind our books and pretend like we have it all figured out."
My patience waned, replaced by a resolute fire. "I don't pretend to have it all figured out, but at least I strive to be better. I won't stand idly by while you leave a trail of broken hearts, i highly suspect a lot of STDs and shattered friendships in your wake."
The tension between us was palpable, the air heavy with unspoken resentment. We stood at an impasse, our words and emotions colliding in a tempest of heated argument. It was a clash between two forces unwilling to yield, each defending their own perspective with unwavering determination.
As the echoes of our confrontation reverberated through the halls of Hawkins High, the rest of the student body seemingly silent, a lingering animosity hanging in the air.
The hallway fell into a hushed silence as the door swung open, revealing Mr. Thompson, a stern and no-nonsense teacher known for his unwavering discipline. His eyes scanned the crowd, settling on Billy Hargrove and me, both still tinged with the remnants of our heated argument.
With a voice that brooked no dissent, Mr. Thompson spoke, his tone laced with disappointment. "Mr. Hargrove, Miss Y/N, I trust you are both aware of the disruption you caused with your altercation. Such behavior is not befitting of the students I know you are capable of being."
Billy leaned back against the metal locker, an air of defiance lingering around him. "Look, teach, she started it. She always acts like she's better than everyone else."
Mr. Thompson's gaze hardened, his stern expression unyielding. "I will not entertain excuses or attempts to shift blame, Mr. Hargrove. Both of you played a role in this unfortunate incident, and as such, you will face the consequences."
His words hung heavy in the air, the weight of our actions pressing down upon us. I swallowed hard, understanding the gravity of the situation. "I apologize, Mr. Thompson. My behavior was out of line, and I take full responsibility for my part in the argument."
The teacher nodded, his tone firm yet fair. "Acknowledging your mistake is the first step, Miss Y/N. However, understanding the impact of your actions is equally important. Disruption within the school community undermines the learning environment for your fellow students."
Billy shot a defiant glare in Mr. Thompson's direction, but the teacher remained unfazed. "As for you, Mr. Hargrove, this is not the first time you have found yourself in a situation like this. It's time to recognize the consequences of your actions and learn from them."
The weight of Mr. Thompson's words settled upon us, the realization of our transgressions sinking in. We were about to face the repercussions of our heated argument— A lesson that would extend beyond the confines of the classroom unfortunately.
With a measured tone, Mr. Thompson concluded, "Both of you will serve detention after school today. It is an opportunity for reflection and understanding, a chance to contemplate the impact of your choices. I expect better from you both moving forward." As the halls emptied and the weight of our detention loomed.
───── ❝ detention❞ ─────
The detention room was heavy with unspoken tension, a sterile and somber space, its walls adorned with faded motivational posters. Billy Hargrove and I sat in stony silence, our gazes locked in a battle of wills. As we awaited the passage of time, a silence settled over us, broken only by the occasional creak of chairs, the heavy rain hitting the windows or distant footsteps in the hallway.
Unable to bear the silence any longer, I broke it with a voice sharpened by resentment. "You know, Billy, I never expected much from you, but I thought you would at least have the decency to apologize."
Billy's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing with a flicker of defiance. "Apologize? For what? Standing up for myself? Or for not letting you walk all over me with your self-righteous lectures? You’re the one that should be grovelling and begging for me to accept your apology."
The words stung, igniting a fire within me. "You think this is about me wanting to control you? It's not, Billy. It's about treating people with respect and recognizing the consequences of our actions."
He scoffed, his voice laced with bitter sarcasm. "Oh, spare me your moral high ground, sweetheart. You act like you've never made a mistake in your life."
My temper flared, my voice rising in defiance. "I never claimed to be perfect, Billy. But at least I try to learn from my mistakes. You, on the other hand, continue to hurt people without a second thought."
His eyes flashed with anger, his voice dripping with venom. "You think you know me? You think you understand a damn thing about what I've been through?"
The room crackled with the intensity of our confrontation, the boundaries between us growing sharper with every word. We were two opposing forces on a collision course, our anger fueling the flames of resentment.
"I may not know your entire story, Billy, but that doesn't excuse your actions," I retorted, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. "Hurting others won't fix whatever pain you're carrying."
His gaze hardened, his voice a low growl. "You don't get to play therapist, Y/N. You don't get to pretend like you can fix me."
My heart raced, my fists clenched in frustration. "I never said that I have all the answers, but I refuse to let you continue down this destructive path without saying something. You're capable of so much more, Billy. But until you face the truth and acknowledge the pain you're causing, you'll remain trapped in this cycle of anger and hurt."
Silence enveloped us once again, the weight of our words hanging in the air. Anger still simmered beneath the surface, but a glimmer of vulnerability shone in Billy's eyes. It was a fleeting moment, easily masked by his hardened facade, but it was enough to sow a seed of doubt within me.
The storm outside was taking a treacherous turn. The distant rumble of thunder grew louder, and rain pounded against the windows with an unrelenting force.
Breaking the silence, my voice quivered with a mix of trepidation and sincerity. "Billy, I want to apologize for the things I said earlier. I let my anger get the best of me, and I didn't consider the pain you might be carrying."
Billy's guard softened, his gaze meeting mine with a flicker of surprise and appreciation. "I... I appreciate that, Y/N.”
There was a pause, a shared moment of introspection as we grappled with our own inner turmoil. I reached out tentatively, my hand finding Billy's, my touch a gentle reassurance amidst the remnants of our conflict.
"I've seen glimpses of a different person beneath your… tough exterior, Billy," I admitted, voice filled with genuine concern. "There's more to you than the asshole that parades himself around this school."
“Y/N, I-”
Suddenly, the shrill wail of sirens pierced the air, signaling an imminent danger—A tornado.
We exchanged startled glances, their previous animosity momentarily forgotten as the gravity of the situation sank in.
As the tornado siren blared its warning, panic gripped the halls of Hawkins High School. Remaining students and teachers scrambled to find shelter, seeking refuge in designated safe areas.
Their footsteps quickened, driven by the urgency to reach safety. My hand instinctively grasped the doorknob, twisting it desperately, only to be met with resistance. Billy stepped forward, trying to force the door open with all his might, but it remained stubbornly shut. We were trapped, confined within the detention room's four walls while the storm raged outside.
Frantic thoughts raced through my mind as the tornado siren continued its relentless call. Time seemed to stretch, each passing second intensifying our worry. We pounded on the door, our voices blending with the howling wind outside, hoping to catch the attention of someone who could free us from these confines.
But the chaos of the storm swallowed the cries, leaving us stranded in a place where punishment had transformed into something far more sinister.
Together, we faced the daunting prospect of weathering the storm from the confines of the detention room. The previous conflicts and animosity were pushed aside by the shared predicament we found themselves in. In this moment of vulnerability, I, overwhelmed by the situation, instinctively sought comfort and found solace in the proximity of Billy.
Trembling, I pressed closer to him, seeking refuge in his presence. Billy, taken aback by the vulnerability displayed before him, was unsure of how to respond. Awkwardly, he tentatively wrapped his arms around me, his touch uncertain yet gentle, trying to offer whatever comfort he could muster.
His voice, usually laced with defiance, softened as he spoke, "Hey, it's gonna be okay." His words held a glimmer of reassurance, though they were foreign on his tongue.
Finding solace in the sincerity behind his words, I nodded against his chest. The storm's fury continued to unleash its wrath, yet within the confines of his embrace, a bubble of comfort formed—a shelter against the chaos outside.
Despite his initial hesitation, Billy recognized the importance of providing support in his own way. He began to stroke Y/N's back with gentle motions, a silent gesture of solidarity.
"Sorry," I mumbled, my voice laced with embarrassment, as I gently pushed away from Billy's embrace. My cheeks flushed with a mix of emotions, and I hastily wiped my nose on the back of my hand, trying to regain composure. Avoiding his gaze, I looked down, my focus shifting to the ground beneath us.
Billy, ever the composed one, noticed my unease. With a gentle touch, he reached out and brushed off a speck of dust from his shirt, as if to show that the minor incident hadn't fazed him.
Billy took a seat on the floor, his back leaned against the door, his hands resting on his knees. A somber calmness settled over him as he watched the storm brewing just outside the windows. His gaze traced the dark clouds swirling in the sky, their ominous presence mirrored in the intensity of his eyes.
There was a sense of introspection about him, a contemplation that matched the turbulent energy of the storm. As the thunder rumbled and the rain battered against the windows, he seemed lost in thought, his thoughts perhaps wandering through the labyrinth of his own emotions.
I couldn't help but be drawn to his stillness, his silent observation of the chaos outside. His composed demeanor in the face of the tempest fascinated me, revealing a depth that extended beyond his tough exterior. In that moment, he seemed like an enigma, simultaneously a part of the storm and yet untouched by its fury.
Sitting beside him, I watched his profile, his features softened by the dim light that filtered through the darkened room. There was an air of melancholy around him, an unspoken weight that he carried. I yearned to understand the depths of his thoughts, to be the solace that anchored him amidst the storm.
───── ❝ the calm❞ ─────
As the storm raged outside, Billy and I found ourselves engaged in a conversation that embodied the essence of teenage banter.
Billy leaned in, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "If you could have any superpower, what would it be? And don't say something boring like 'the ability to study all night'."
I chuckled, playfully rolling my eyes at his remark. "Alright, impatient. If I had to pick, I'd go with telekinesis. Imagine the possibilities! No more reaching for the remote or dealing with heavy backpacks. I could be the ultimate multitasker."
He nodded, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Telekinesis, huh? That's a solid choice. I'd probably go with teleportation. Think about it—no more long commutes, instant travel to any corner of the world. Plus, I'd never be late for detention again."
As the thunder rumbled in the distance, Billy leaned closer, his tone filled with curiosity. "Alright, what's the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to you in school? Come on, I know you've got a good story."
I smirked, playfully nudging him. "Well, there was this one time in sophomore year when I accidentally walked into the boys' restroom. Needless to say, I made a hasty retreat."
Billy burst into laughter, his infectious mirth filling the room. "You sure know how to make an entrance, sweetheart."
As we continued swapping stories and playful jabs, the detention room transformed into a hub of energy, where we could momentarily forget our worries and simply enjoy each other's company.
A low, distant rumble of thunder echoed through the air, as if nature itself was growling in anticipation. The wind intensified, howling and gusting with an almost primal force. The trees bowed and thrashed, their branches caught in a frenzied dance, struggling against the impending tempest.
I watched in awe as the atmosphere transformed before my eyes. The sky, once a tranquil blue, now displayed a multitude of shades—shades of gray, indigo, and charcoal, swirling together in a chaotic symphony. The sun, now hidden behind a thick layer of swirling clouds, cast an eerie, ethereal glow over the landscape.
Bolts of lightning streaked across the darkened sky, illuminating the swirling mass of clouds with their electric brilliance. Each flash was followed by a deep, rumbling clap of thunder, reverberating through the air like the growl of a mighty beast. The sound seemed to vibrate within me, a reminder of the power and unpredictability of nature.
Raindrops fell, at first sporadic and gentle, then growing in intensity. They splattered against the windows, creating a distorted view of the world outside. The rain seemed to move in waves, driven by the ever-growing ferocity of the storm.
As the tornado formed in the distance, a funnel-shaped cloud descended from the heavens, its dark core swirling with an ominous intensity. It seemed like a monstrous entity, a force of nature unleashed, ready to wreak havoc upon the land.
As I watched the tornado continue to gather strength, my heart pounded with a mix of fear and fascination. The storm's fury was a stark reminder of our place in the universe, a humbling experience that left me in awe.
"Truth or dare?" Billy's voice cut through the air, pulling me away from my initial skepticism, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.
I scoffed playfully, playing along with the game. "Dare," I replied, ready to accept whatever challenge he threw my way.
His eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in closer. "Draw something inappropriate on the whiteboard," he suggested, his voice laden with amusement.
I rolled my eyes, trying to suppress a smile, and reluctantly rose from the floor. Picking up a black marker, I uncapped it and sketched a crude representation of a penis on the whiteboard.
Rolling my eyes but unable to suppress a smile, I got up from the floor and reached for a black marker. With deliberate strokes, I crudely sketched a crude representation of a penis on the whiteboard. Billy's laughter filled the room, his teasing comment echoing in the air.
“It’s a bit small, don’t you think?” He jested, unable to contain his amusement.
Glancing at the drawing, I raise an eyebrow, a smirk forming on my lips. “Oh, really? Well, I suppose it’s yours then,” I retort, playfully taking a seat beside him, reveling in our shared banter.
Billy’s eyes widen momentarily before a mischievous smile dances on his lips. “Oh, sweetheart. It definitely is not,” he quips, the implication lingering in the air between us.
Interrupting his suggestive smile, I shift the focus back to the game. “Truth or dare?” I ask, deliberately ignoring his playful demeanor.
Billy ponders for a moment, his gaze meeting mine with a newfound curiosity. “Truth,” he finally decides, a tinge of vulnerability seeping into his voice.
With a casual shrug, I meet his request with nonchalance. “Tell me a secret,” I challenge, my curiosity piqued.
I see a flicker of contemplation in Billy’s eyes, a momentary vulnerability that captures my attention. “I… I think this game is stupid,” he confesses, his tone filled with a hint of reluctance.
A burst of laughter escapes me, and I playfully grumble, pouting as I lightly swat him with the back of my hand. “Come on, Hargrove,” I retort, a playful glint in my eyes. “That’s not a real secret,” I tease, finding joy in the lighthearted exchange between us.
"I love when you say my name," he confesses softly, his voice laced with sincerity.
I raise an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "Billy is your name, not Hargrove," I remind him, a hint of mischief coloring my tone.
He closes his eyes, savoring the words as they linger in the air. Tilting his head back slightly, a contented sigh escapes his lips. "God, I love that," he admits, a faint smile playing on his features.
A mixture of curiosity and affection fills me as I gaze at him, captivated by the rare vulnerability that shines through. "Your own name?" I inquire, wanting to understand the depths of his feelings.
His smile grows wider, his eyes sparkling with a newfound lightness. It's a smile I've never witnessed before—a genuine expression that reaches his eyes. It's a departure from the usual smirks and cocky grins that often adorned his face.
With a teasing glint, he responds, "Only when you say it."
In that moment, the room feels charged with an unspoken connection—a mutual understanding that extends beyond words. Billy's admission reveals a layer of vulnerability, a longing to be seen and appreciated for who he truly is. And in return, I find myself drawn to the authenticity behind his smiles, cherishing this newfound glimpse into his soul.
As the tornado's fury rages outside, within the detention room, a tender understanding forms—a recognition that behind the tough exterior and troubled past, there is a person deserving of acceptance.
The air between us hums with unspoken emotions, the room fills with an electrifying tension. A charged atmosphere enveloping us, our eyes locked. There, in the midst of the detention room's confined space, a fleeting moment of clarity washed over me, and I couldn't resist the overwhelming urge to bridge the remaining distance between us.
Closing the gap, I reached out, my fingers gently cupping Billy's cheek. The room fell silent, the sounds of the storm outside fading into the background, as our hearts beat in unison. With a mixture of trepidation and longing, I pressed my lips against his, capturing the essence of that tender moment.
Time seemed to stand still as our mouths met, a fusion of uncertainty and desire intertwining in the embrace. The sensation was electric, igniting a fire that had smoldered beneath the surface for far too long. In that brief exchange, our souls spoke a language words couldn't convey.
Billy, initially surprised by the unexpected kiss, soon melted into it, responding with a passion that matched my own. His hands found their way to the small of my back, pulling me closer, deepening the connection.
When our lips finally parted, we remained locked in a breathless moment, our eyes lingering as if searching for something in the depths of each other's gaze. The storm's turmoil outside seemed distant, inconsequential compared to the whirlwind of emotions we experienced within that single, stolen kiss.
A radiant smile spread across Billy's face, a genuine expression that mirrored the warmth filling my own heart.
Our eyes remain locked, reflecting the fire that still burns within. It's a pivotal moment—an awakening of desires.
As the heat between us subsides slightly, I tentatively reach out, my hand trembling with anticipation, seeking to caress the contours of Billy's face. But just as my fingers brush against his skin, he gently catches my hand, his touch firm yet tender.
Time seems to suspend as Billy's eyes search mine, his grip on my hand a gentle yet deliberate restraint. The intensity of the moment is palpable, the unspoken words echoing between us.
My heart pounded in anticipation, and my breath hitched as I felt his gaze fixate on the sensitive curve of my neck.
A mixture of excitement and vulnerability coursed through me as Billy leaned in, his lips lightly grazing my skin. Each gentle kiss sent an electric jolt through my body, awakening every nerve ending. It was an exquisite torment, a sweet agony that left me yearning for more.
I shivered, surrendering to the intoxicating pleasure of his touch, as his lips continued to explore the contours of my neck. The warmth of his breath against my skin sent waves of desire cascading through me, intensifying with each tender press of his mouth.
The sensations overwhelmed me, causing a soft gasp to escape my lips. In that moment, I lost myself in the exquisite pleasure, my body responding to his every touch. It was a delicate dance of passion and vulnerability, a symphony of sensations that bound us together in an intimate connection.
Time seemed to stand still as Billy's kisses grew more impassioned, each one leaving a trail of desire in its wake. My senses were heightened, the world around us fading into insignificance. In that intimate exchange, I felt seen, cherished, and desired.
As I surrendered to the pleasure coursing through me, the room became a sanctuary—a place where worries and responsibilities dissolved, leaving only the intensity of our connection. Billy's lips on my neck were a testament to the depths of our desires intertwining.
Amidst the storm's raging chaos outside, our bodies entwined, the sweet caress of his kisses on my neck brought solace and an indescribable intimacy. It was a moment where the boundaries between us blurred, where our desires and emotions melded into one.
With a mix of strength and tenderness, Billy's arms wrapped around me, lifting me effortlessly off the ground. I gasped, caught off guard by his display of power and the rush of exhilaration that surged through me.
With purposeful steps, Billy carried me across the room, our bodies pressed close together. Gently, Billy set me down on top of a desk, our eyes locked in a fiery gaze. The smooth surface was cool against my skin, heightening my awareness of the intimate connection we were about to explore.
Billy stood before me, his gaze filled with a mix of desire and vulnerability. With a slight smirk playing on his lips, he reached for the buttons of his shirt, his fingers deftly undoing them one by one.
His hands paused momentarily, allowing me a moment to appreciate the sight before him. A hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his usual confidence shining through. With a deliberate slowness, he shrugged off the shirt, letting it fall to the ground, revealing his bare chest in all its glory.
Steady hand, he reached out, his fingers grazing the fabric of my shirt. His touch was gentle yet purposeful, tracing a path along my skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. With a gentle yet determined pull, he started to lift the shirt upward, exposing the skin beneath.
───── ❝ the storm❞ ─────
As my shirt slipped off, a rush of vulnerability and desire washed over me. Billy's eyes traced the lines of my exposed flesh, a mixture of reverence and hunger in his gaze. His touch was both careful and passionate, his fingertips grazing my skin with an electric intensity that sent shivers down my spine.
His hand reaches up my throat, until it reaches my chin, grabbing and running his thumb over my full bottom lip. I part my lips, drawing his thumb into my mouth and sucking.
“Y/N,” he whispers, closing his eyes, his jaw clenching as he grinds his back teeth.
He pulls his thumb from my lips, his fingers flying to my jeans as he fumbles with the button and rips them from me.
His eyes fall to my underwear. “Okay” He rasps, his fingers rubbing through the material.
“Oh” I breathe, pushing my arms behind me and wrapping my fingers round the edge of the desk unit.
“Legs up,” He orders and I do as he says without thinking, widening my legs for him, his eyes falling between them. Swirling his fingertips over me, his spare hand moves up around my throat as he wraps his fingers there, holding me in position.
His fingers slip into the side of my panties, rubbing slowly before gliding his fingers through my parted lips and plunging two fingers deep inside of me.
“Fuck,” I whisper.
His fingers slip out of me, before tugging on his own pants, kicking them down his legs. “You clean?”
I nod, “Yeah, are you?”
“Haven’t been with anyone in a while, but yeah.” I feel shocked and confused by his admission, but don’t let him see it.
He strokes himself in long, slow strokes then pushes his thick tip at my tight opening. “You’re mine from this moment on, do you understand me?” He rasps, his eyes levelling with mine and I nod.
Billy’s voice resonates with authority and possessiveness as he utters those words, his intense gaze locked with mine. The weight of his declaration hangs in the air, and for a brief moment, my mind races with conflicting emotions. I want to surrender, to fully embrace this connection that has ignited between us, but a lingering trace of hesitation remains.
“Yours.” I whisper, my voice tinged with a mix of excitement and fear. My eyes roll in the back of my head as he slowly pushes his thick cock inside me, the burn caused by him stretching me taking my breath away.
“Y/N.” His grip around my throat tightens as he watches his cock slip in and out of me with ease. “Fuck, you feel so good.” His jaw is tight, his teeth gritted as he fucks me slowly.
“Billy.” I whisper moan, looking between us as his thick cock pulls to the tip, then slips straight back into me.
My heart races under my skin when my gaze lands on the classroom door, the school hallway lies quiet and still, devoid of the usual bustling energy that fills its space during the day. My eyes widen and Billy winks at me, smirking.
“Look at you” he moans, his thrusts speeding up. “You’re such a naughty girl, sweetheart.”
The pet name that so often bothered me now felt like a reward, slipping off his tongue it brings my orgasm close. I clench down, tightening around him.
“You like that, don’t you?”
I nod, mewling as his voice floats through me, his cock hitting that spot.
“I think you can take more,” he whispers, his head turning to the door then back to face me. “Do you?” he asks.
I nod eagerly, letting my eyes watch as he fucks me.
He smiles, looking down between us as he pulls his cock to his tip, then places two fingers at my opening, resting on top of his arousal coated cock.
Without warning, he pushes back into me, my mouth agape as my eyes roll in the back of my head.
“Fuck yes,” I pant. Uncurling my white knuckled fingers from the edge, I reach between my legs and rub my swollen clit.
Billy laughs a little, amusement evident in his voice. “You’re so greedy” he grits, as he fucks me harder,
My fingers rub faster, matching his thrusts into me. Billy grins at me, his eyes hooded as he slows his thrusts into me to a torturous pace.
“God” I rush out, ignoring the urge to moan out after that.
Billy continues at the slow pace for a moment then picks up the pace again, fucking me hard.
“Fuck,” I whisper, my eyes glassing as tears threaten, the pleasure ripping through me.
“Did anyone fuck you like this?” I see Billy’s veins bulging and throbbing at his question and I shake my head. “Good, no one will.” He grits, pulling his two fingers out. My orgasm teeters as he pushes his cock deep into me.
“I’m going to come,” I whisper, tears rolling down my cheek at this overwhelming fullness that I feel. I tilt my hips up so his long cock rubs on the spot I need.
I can no longer resist the magnetic pull drawing me toward him. With a mixture of hesitation and longing, I close the remaining distance between us, my lips pressing against his in a bold and passionate kiss.
His response is immediate, his arms encircling me, pulling me closer, as if he too craves this connection. The kiss deepens, becoming a fierce exchange of desire and emotion.
My eyes roll, my back arches and I come hard, my orgasm splintering me in two. I swear I see stars, my ears ringing as the relief swarms me.
“Such a good girl,” He chokes, fucking me in short, hard thrusts, “I’m going to come,” he whispers.
I pant, he pants, his face edging towards me in an electrifying instant, our lips collide in a passionate fusion. It’s a dance of fire and vulnerability, a symphony of sensations that overwhelm my senses.
Our kiss deepens, a mingling of passion and tenderness. It’s as if time suspends, leaving only the intensity of our shared moment. Our lips move in perfect harmony, fueled by a hunger
A symphony of moans escapes my parted lips, blending with the intoxicating atmosphere around us. I lose myself in the intoxicating taste of his mouth, surrendering to the whirlwind of emotions that swirl within me. In that moment, nothing else matters but the heat and urgency of our connection.
His touch is electric, his hands guiding me closer, holding me as if afraid to let go. Fingers tangle in my hair, creating an anchor in this storm of desire.
Each brush of his lips against mine sends waves of pleasure coursing through me.
───── ❝ fear ❞ ─────
The tornado emerges on the horizon as a monstrous force of nature, its destructive power evident in its towering funnel cloud. It's a swirling vortex of darkness, a tempest that devours everything in its path. The winds, furious and relentless, whip through the air, creating a deafening roar that reverberates through the surroundings.
As it approaches, the tornado leaves a trail of devastation in its wake. Trees are uprooted, their branches tossed like twigs in the ferocious gusts. Debris becomes airborne, propelled with alarming velocity, transforming everyday objects into deadly projectiles.
The sheer magnitude of the tornado is awe-inspiring and terrifying. Its darkness stretches towards the heavens, a menacing presence against the darkened sky. It seems to command the atmosphere, bending it to its will as it spirals relentlessly forward.
The swirling mass engulfs the landscape, obscuring visibility with a dense cloud of dust and debris. Its raw power is palpable, an unstoppable force of nature that demands respect and humility.
Inside the school, the building shudders under the onslaught of the approaching storm. The air pressure fluctuates, causing windows to rattle and doors to creak. The sounds of destruction outside are muffled by the solid structure, yet the vibrations serve as a chilling reminder of the chaos unfolding just beyond the walls.
As I cower with Billy, a sense of vulnerability washes over me. We cling to each other, seeking solace and protection in our shared fear. The tornado's proximity amplifies the urgency, the desperate need to find shelter and hold on to hope amidst the chaos.
Through the windows, I catch glimpses of the swirling mass, the dark tendrils reaching out like ominous fingers. It's a sight that commands both awe and terror, a stark reminder of the immense power of nature and our own fragility in its presence.
The tornado rages on, its path cutting through the land with merciless force. It serves as a testament to the indomitable forces of nature, leaving behind a trail of destruction that serves as a somber reminder of its might. In its wake, lives are upended, and the true strength of the human spirit is tested.
I can't help but succumb to a vulnerable admission. With trembling words and a sheepish tone, I confess my deepest fear. "I'm... scared," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking the words aloud would make the fear all the more real.
Billy's gaze softens, his eyes reflecting a mixture of understanding and concern.
"I know," he responds, his voice gentle yet filled with an unwavering determination. "It's alright to be scared."
His words offer a glimmer of comfort amidst the chaos. I find solace in the fact that I'm not alone.
As the tornado's howling winds continue to pummel the school, we huddle closer, seeking shelter in each other's embrace. Billy's arms envelop me, providing a sense of protection against the outside world. In the safety of his presence, I allow myself to lean on him, to release the weight of my fears.
The deafening roar of the tornado intensifies, its monstrous presence drawing ever closer, a surge of adrenaline courses through my veins. Despite our attempts to find comfort in each other's embrace, the fear within me intensifies, threatening to overwhelm my senses.
I can feel the vibrations reverberating through the walls, the tremors of the approaching storm rattling the very foundation of the school. The once-distant sounds of destruction now grow ominously near, a chilling reminder of the tornado's relentless pursuit.
The windows tremble under the assault of the wind, and shards of glass occasionally shatter, scattering across the floor like glistening fragments of chaos. The air becomes heavy with debris, carried on the gusts that infiltrate the building, serving as a grim testament to the tornado's destructive path.
In the midst of this swirling chaos, I cling tightly to Billy, seeking refuge in his presence. His strong arms provide a sense of security, anchoring me to the present moment, even as the world outside seems to be spiraling out of control.
The tornado's wrath looms just beyond the school walls, a relentless force that threatens to consume everything in its path. The air grows thick with anticipation, our breaths shallow, as if awaiting the inevitable impact.
In the face of this impending danger, Billy's grip tightens, his unwavering strength serving as an anchor amidst the storm. His gaze meets mine, his eyes filled with determination, and I draw strength from the unwavering resolve in his expression.
"We're going to make it through this," he assures me, his voice steady despite the chaos surrounding us. His words resonate deep within me, stirring a flicker of hope amidst the fear that threatens to consume me.
As the tornado's monstrous presence engulfs the school, we brace ourselves, both physically and emotionally. Time seems to slow, each second stretching into eternity as we steel ourselves for the impact.
Exhausted from the harrowing ordeal, our bodies intertwined as we succumb to the weariness that envelops us. The tumultuous events of the storm have taken their toll, and we drift into a deep, restless sleep.
───── ❝ hope ❞ ─────
As the hours pass, the storm finally subsides, its wrath replaced by an eerie calm. The once-fierce winds now whisper faintly outside, their power spent. Slowly, consciousness begins to stir within us, like emerging from a foggy dream.
Then, as the tempest finally subsides, we are abruptly awoken by a profound silence. The deafening roar of the tornado gives way to an eerie stillness, broken only by the distant sound of emergency sirens and the occasional creak of a damaged structure.
Opening our eyes, we survey our surroundings, a scene of devastation unfolding before us. The once-familiar corridors are now marred by broken walls, shattered windows, and debris scattered haphazardly across the floor.
It’s a surreal sight, the aftermath of nature’s wrath. Yet, amidst the chaos, there is a glimmer of hope. We’ve made it through the storm, emerging on the other side battered but alive.
With the shattered glass on the detention room door, Billy reaches through and deftly turns the handle from the other side. A glimmer of relief washes over us, knowing that we now have an exit from the confined space. Though the windows are broken and the path to safety is strewn with debris, we realize that any open window will suffice, as the glass practically no longer exists.
"Be careful," Billy instructs, his voice laced with concern as he surveys the scattered remnants across the hallway. Taking my hand in his, we proceed with caution, navigating through the remnants of the storm's aftermath. The floor is littered with shattered glass, fallen ceiling tiles, and splintered furniture, a visual testament to the chaos we've endured.
As we make our way through the treacherous path, a fireman catches sight of us and rushes towards us, his expression a mix of relief and urgency. "I FOUND SOMEONE!" he exclaims, his voice filled with a mixture of triumph and concern. With a reassuring hand, he guides us toward the front yard where other students and teachers who sought refuge in the cellar have gathered.
The paramedics swiftly approach, their trained eyes assessing our well-being. Billy reluctantly releases my hand as the paramedic begins to check on us, ensuring that we've escaped the storm's grasp unscathed. I stand alongside Billy, the weight of the harrowing experience settling in, as we wait to be examined.
In the midst of the chaos and the flurry of emergency responders, a sense of gratitude washes over me. We've emerged from the devastation, finding our way to safety against all odds. As the paramedic assesses our physical well-being, I steal a glance at Billy, our eyes meeting briefly.
"Y/N!" Steve Harrington rushes to my side after the paramedics give us the all-clear. His face is filled with relief and a touch of disbelief. "Dude, I definitely thought you were dead."
I offer a wry smile, trying to lighten the mood. "Nope, just left for dead in detention."
Steve pulls me into a tight hug, a mixture of genuine concern and his signature humor. "I can't believe you almost died a virgin," he whispers, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he laughs to himself.
I feel a rush of embarrassment and look around, catching Billy's widened eyes. I see him trying to conceal his reaction, a flicker of annoyance briefly crossing his face.
"Steve!" I exclaim, a mixture of embarrassment and frustration tainting my tone. I shoot a quick glance at Billy, silently pleading for him to understand that Steve's comment was just typical Steve being Steve.
Steve, seemingly aware of the tension, quickly shifts his gaze to Billy, offering him a small smile. It's a gesture of acknowledgement and perhaps even an attempt at easing the tension in the moment.
Realizing that it's time to move on from the chaotic aftermath, Steve takes charge. "Come on," he says, gently guiding me away from the scene. Together, we leave Billy behind, the crowd engulfing him as friends and admirers gather to offer their support.
As we walk away, Steve's presence provides a sense of familiarity and comfort. His friendship, though at times unconventional, has become a pillar of support in the face of adversity. In this moment, his light-hearted banter serves as a reminder that we have survived, and life goes on.
"Hey guys," I halfheartedly greet Steve's friends, who have gradually accepted me as part of their group. They each offer their well wishes, making sure I'm okay before effortlessly transitioning into a different topic of conversation.
As I glance over my shoulder, I catch a glimpse of Billy, his smug demeanor fully intact as he revels in the attention he receives. It's not long before a girl eagerly throws herself at him, adding to the throng of admirers that surround him.
A pang of frustration tugs at my heart, a mix of envy and disappointment. Despite the connection we had forged amidst the chaos of the storm, it seems that Billy's attention is quickly diverted by others. I can't help but wonder if our momentary bond was merely a product of the circumstances, destined to fade away once the storm subsided.
I turn my attention back to Steve's friends, forcing a smile and engaging in their lighthearted banter. They provide a welcome distraction, reminding me that I have a support system of my own within this circle. Despite the lingering disappointment, I find ease in their genuine concern and acceptance.
Amidst the chatter and laughter, I take a deep breath, pushing aside the lingering thoughts of Billy's sudden shift in focus. I remind myself that friendships take time to develop and that everyone has their own journey. Perhaps Billy's actions are simply a reflection of his own insecurities, his need for validation in the wake of the storm.
Resolving to focus on my own path, I immerse myself in the conversation, allowing the warmth of friendship to wash over me. I appreciate the genuine connections I've formed with Steve's friends, knowing that their support will be a constant source of strength as we navigate the challenges that lie ahead.
While Billy may bask in the attention of others, I find comfort in the knowledge that true friendships are built on more than just fleeting moments. It's the shared experiences, the genuine support, and the unwavering presence in times of both joy and adversity that truly define the bonds we hold dear.
And so, I embrace the camaraderie of Steve's friends, grateful for their acceptance and friendship. As we continue to navigate the aftermath of the storm, I know that I have a place within this circle, even as the dynamics around us may shift. Together, we will face whatever comes our way, united in our resilience and the unwavering spirit of Hawkins.
───── ❝ unwilling ❞ ─────
"I don't really want to go," I sighed, sprawling out on Steve's couch. It had been a week since the storm wreaked havoc on our lives, and school was still on hold as they worked to repair and rebuild.
Steve, leaning against the armrest, nudged my feet off the couch. "Come on, it's a party. You're a teenager," he retorted, a playful glint in his eyes. "Besides, it's to celebrate you."
I let out a half-hearted groan, feeling a mix of reluctance and confusion. "It's to celebrate Billy Hargrove," I muttered, my voice laced with a hint of bitterness.
Steve rolled his eyes, sitting down next to me as he tied his shoe. He had never been a fan of Billy, and I knew I now had to act the same way. Deep down, buried beneath the layers of conflicting emotions, I couldn't deny that I carried feelings for Billy. Yet, it had been over a week since the storm, and he hadn't reached out or even acknowledged what had happened.
"You survived a whole eight-hour storm with him," Steve scoffed, a trace of admiration mixed with annoyance in his voice. "That deserves to be celebrated, whether you want to admit it or not."
"Alright, fine," I relented, sitting up on the couch and running a hand through my hair. "But I'm not going for Billy. I'm going for the people who supported me throughout it all, including you."
Steve flashed a smile, a genuine warmth in his eyes. "That's the spirit," he said, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "Now, let's go show them how strong we are, and have a little fun in the process."
I mustered a smile, appreciating Steve's unwavering support. With a renewed sense of purpose, I agreed to join him at the party. It was at Carol Perkins' house, a name that didn't reveal much apart from the fact that Steve seemed genuinely excited about it.
Steve and I hopped into his car, ready for the short drive across town to the party. As we cruised through the familiar streets of Hawkins, the buzz of excitement filled the air. The music from nearby houses echoed through the night, drawing us closer to the vibrant scene that awaited us.
We arrived at our destination, parking amidst a sea of cars that lined the street. The house before us was aglow with colored lights, and laughter and voices carried on the breeze. The front yard was transformed into a lively gathering, with groups of people engaged in animated conversations, clutching red cups or puffing on cigarettes.
Steve and I stepped out of the car, joining the lively crowd that had gathered. The atmosphere was electric, with the mingling scents of alcohol and smoke hanging in the air. Music pulsed through the speakers, setting the rhythm for the night ahead.
"Hey!" Carol greeted with enthusiasm as Steve walked in, and I followed closely behind him.
"Hey," Steve smiled in response, his charm radiating as always.
Carol, as the host of the party, beamed at us, eager to ensure our enjoyment. "Let's get you two some drinks!" she exclaimed, leading us toward the bustling kitchen. As we navigated through the crowd, Carol exchanged greetings with people along the way, her presence captivating those around her.
Finally reaching the kitchen, my eyes caught sight of Billy, engaged in conversation with a girl as he casually sipped from his plastic cup. He exuded a confident demeanor, drawing attention effortlessly.
"It's the survivors!" the girl practically glued against Billy's chest exclaimed, a wide grin spreading across her face. She gestured between me and Billy. "What was it like? Being in the storm?"
I felt a lump form in my throat, momentarily taken aback by the directness of her question. The memories of the storm still lingered, the chaos and other things vivid in my mind. I swallowed, searching for the right words to convey our shared experience.
"Um," I hesitated, my voice betraying a mix of emotions. It was difficult to put into words what we had endured. The storm had brought us together in unexpected ways, and part of me was still grappling with the complex emotions that surfaced in its wake. "Oh, you know, it was a wild ride,"
Steve, offered a lighthearted smile. "But Y/N is here now, stronger than ever."
His words served as a gentle reminder that we had emerged from the storm with a newfound strength. It was a subtle redirection of the conversation, allowing us to navigate the topic with a touch of optimism.
The surrounding people’s attention shifted from me to Steve, intrigued by his playful response. As the conversation continued, I took a moment to collect myself, reminding myself that it was okay to feel a mix of emotions.
Taking a deep breath, I looked around the lively kitchen, the hum of laughter and music filling the air. Despite the lingering unease, there was a sense of camaraderie among the partygoers, united by the shared experience of surviving the storm. As the evening unfolded, I knew there would be more conversations, and more reflections. And as I raised my own plastic cup in a silent toast to resilience, I embraced the uncertainty of the night, ready to navigate the intricacies of the party at Carol’s house.
The girl turned her attention back to Billy, her flirtatious demeanor unwavering. "Babe," she cooed, her voice dripping with sugary sweetness, causing me to snap my attention back towards them. "I really like this song. Let's go dance."
Billy furrowed his eyebrows, a trace of annoyance flickering across his face as he took another sip of his drink. "I don't dance," he replied curtly, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.
Undeterred, the girl forced a laugh, attempting to brush off his resistance. "Yes, you do," she insisted, her hand balling his shirt in a feeble attempt to pull him towards the dance floor.
In a moment of defiance, Billy swiftly pulled her hand off him, his gaze steely. "And I'm not your 'babe'. Fuck off," he snapped, his words dripping with a mixture of frustration and defiance.
A stunned silence fell between them, the girl taken aback by Billy's unexpected rejection. As she stumbled to find a response, I couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction.
I watched as Billy turned away from her, his attention shifting elsewhere. His eyes met mine briefly, a flicker of recognition passing between us as the girl retreated, nursing her bruised ego.
Steve threw his head back, a wide grin on his face as he finished his drink. "Do you want to play beer pong?" he asked, his excitement evident.
"I've never played, Steve," I admitted, a mix of curiosity and apprehension in my voice.
Steve's smile only grew wider as he responded, "No worries! We'll be a team. Tommy!" he called out, scanning the crowd. "Beer pong? Me and Y/N versus you and..."
Tommy Hagen, his cup in hand, made his way into the somewhat crowded kitchen, his eyes searching for the source of the invitation. "Hargrove," his tone carrying a hint of challenge.
"Yeah, sure," Billy agreed, casually throwing back the remainder of his drink. Without missing a beat, he headed towards the back yard, Tommy following closely behind.
Steve interlaced our fingers, ensuring we wouldn't be separated in the sea of people. Together, we slowly weaved through the partygoers, making our way to the table set up in the back yard. I watched as Tommy filled the plastic cups with alcohol, his movements fluid and precise.
Billy's gaze briefly flickered towards our intertwined hands, a subtle tension radiating from him. In a quick motion, he averted his eyes, unwilling to dwell on the sight.
As we joined the others at the beer pong table, I couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nerves. The air was filled with a blend of anticipation and friendly competition as we prepared to face off against Tommy and Billy.
As the game commenced, laughter and cheers filled the air, mingling with the pulsating beat of the music. We threw ourselves into the game, reveling in the friendly banter and the thrill of each successful shot.
In the midst of the playful competition, I stole glances at Billy, our eyes occasionally meeting in brief, unguarded moments.
───── ❝ unwavering ❞ ─────
Steve and Tommy stood on the sidelines, their eyes fixed on the final ball I held in my hand. With determination in their voices, they offered words of encouragement. "You can do it!" Steve cheered, his voice filled with unwavering support.
But Billy, leaning casually against the table on the opposite end, couldn't resist taunting me. His laughter rang through the air as he dismissed my chances of success. "No, you can't," he taunted, his voice laced with playful arrogance. "Sweetheart, you're gonna miss it. Just give up and let me win this."
I took a deep breath, blocking out Billy's teasing remarks. With a focused gaze, I bounced the ping pong ball, sending it soaring through the air. Time seemed to slow down as it descended, its trajectory aligning perfectly with the last cup in front of Billy.
A moment of silence hung in the air, followed by a collective gasp from the onlookers. The ball found its mark, landing with precision and sinking into the cup. Tommy groaned in defeat, while Steve erupted into jubilant celebration.
In the midst of the commotion, Steve embraced me in a tight hug. As we basked in the victory, Steve's voice cut through the noise. "How's the normal teenage experience going?" he asked, a hint of mischief in his tone.
I shrug, a playful smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "I don't think I love parties, but this one is okay," I replied, my words carrying a sense of lightheartedness.
Steve guided me back inside, his hand resting on the small of my back, leading me away from the beer pong table and the lingering sight of Billy surrounded by his admirers. The pulsating energy of the party filled the air, as people mingled and conversations buzzed around us.
But before I could process it all, a girl stepped forward, a flirtatious smile playing on her lips. "Hey, Steve. You look really great tonight," she said, her fingers absently toying with the hem of her shirt.
Steve returned her smile, and I felt a twinge of discomfort at the sight. Not wanting to be a mere bystander in his flirtations, I decided to make my way to the kitchen, in search of a respite from the lively crowd.
As I stood by the sink, filling my cup with cool water, a voice interrupted my thoughts. "Hi, Y/N, right?" a boy asked, catching my attention.
I turned to face him, trying to place his face. "Yep, that's me," I replied, my voice friendly and polite.
“We had English together last year, remember?”
I racked my brain, desperately searching for any recollection of our past encounter. But the truth was, I drew a blank. "Oh! Yeah, totally," I replied, offering a quick smile and a small nod, hoping to mask my lack of memory.
"I think you're, like, really brave for managing to stay strong after what you went through," the boy remarked, taking a step closer to me.
I smiled appreciatively at his kind words, grateful for the acknowledgment. "Well, I wasn't alone,"
He chuckled, a warm sound that echoed in the lively atmosphere. "But you and Billy don't exactly get along," he observed, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. "I don't think I could have gotten out of that detention unscathed like you."
A soft laugh escaped my lips, a blend of amusement and understanding. "You never know, sometimes the people you least expect can surprise you," I mused, my gaze meeting his with a touch of optimism.
"So, you having fun?" he asked, a playful grin on his face.
I nodded "I was. It's been quite a night."
He chuckled, teasingly. "Steve ditch you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Is he like your boyfriend now or something?"
I let out a laugh, shaking my head at the suggestion. "Ew, no," I replied, a touch of amusement in my tone. "Steve and I have been best friends since like Kindergarten."
Billy entered the kitchen, his gaze fixated on the boy I was engaged in conversation with. There was a subtle tension in the air as he approached us, his eyes narrowing in an unspoken challenge.
The boy in front of me joined in on the laughter, the sound filling the space between us. "So, there's no boyfriend then?" he inquired, curiosity glinting in his eyes.
Billy's presence beside me was palpable, his intense gaze fixed on the boy as he approached the sink next to me.
I shifted slightly, feeling the subtle brush of Billy’s arm against mine as he reached behind me to fill his cup with water. The proximity sent a shiver down my spine, a mix of excitement and trepidation coursing through me.
As I turned my attention back to the boy in front of me, I couldn't help but notice the curiosity gleaming in his eyes. His question lingered in the air, and I felt a playful smile tug at the corners of my lips.
"No," I replied, my voice carrying a hint of amusement.
Billy cleared his throat, drawing our attention to his presence as he leaned against the counter beside me. His piercing gaze locked onto the other boy, sizing him up with an intense scrutiny. He took a deliberate sip of his water, his lips curling into a faint smirk.
The boy, seemingly unfazed by Billy's imposing aura, mustered up the courage to ask, "Would you want to go out sometime then? With me?"
Caught off guard, I glanced around, feeling a slight twinge of awkwardness. The weight of the moment seemed to hang in the air, and I searched for the right words to respond. “Oh,” I stammered, my cheeks flushing slightly. “Yeah, maybe.”
As the words left my lips, I sensed a shift in the energy between Billy and me. A silent tension enveloped us, as if the unspoken connection we shared danced on the precipice of something more. Billy’s expression remained inscrutable, his gaze holding mine for a fleeting moment before he turned and walked away.
Left standing there, my attention returned to the boy in front of me, who seemed content with my response.
“Awesome,” the boy grinned, his excitement palpable. “So should I, like, call you?”
I offered a smile. “Obviously not right now, but I’ll see you around,” I replied, slowly starting to leave the kitchen.
But before I could make my way through the crowd, the boy took a few steps to follow me. His enthusiasm was endearing, but my mind was elsewhere. “Do you want to dance or anything?”
“No, I actually have to find Steve,” I explained, my voice barely audible above the pulsating music. “Make sure he isn’t passed out or whatever.”
As I turned to make my way back into the heart of the party, I found myself engulfed in a sea of people, the noise and energy enveloping me. It was then that I felt a hand brush past my waist, sending a shiver down my spine. A familiar breath tickled my ear, and I turned to find Billy standing there, his presence commanding my attention.
His words, laced with a mixture of intrigue and mischief, sent a jolt of excitement through me. “You excited for your little date?” he whispered, his voice filled with a hint of playfulness.
I could feel my heart race in response, a surge of conflicting emotions swirling within me.
With a playful smile, I leaned closer to Billy, allowing myself to be caught up in the electrifying atmosphere of the party. “I guess we’ll see,” I whispered back, my voice carrying a touch of mystery.
Billy’s hand wrapped around my wrist, his grip firm yet gentle. I held my breath, anticipation coursing through me as I waited for him to speak. “I thought I told you,”
Before Billy could utter another word, Steve’s voice cut through the noise of the party, calling out my name. The moment shattered as I turned my head in Steve’s direction, momentarily distracted by his presence.
Billy's jaw clenched, his eyes refusing to waver from mine as he released my wrist. A mixture of frustration and longing crossed his face, evident in the way he huffed and ran a hand through his hair. Without another word, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the swirling sea of partygoers.
Steve finally reached me, his presence providing a sense of grounding amidst the whirlwind of emotions. He took my hand, his touch comforting as he pulled me away from the chaotic scene. "I've been looking for you!" he exclaimed, a mixture of relief and concern in his voice. "Let's take a break and sit outside."
I allowed Steve to lead me towards the door, but my gaze kept turning back, trying to catch a glimpse of Billy amidst the crowd. There was a part of me that yearned for closure, for answers to the unspoken connection between us.
As we stepped outside, the noise of the party faded into the background, replaced by the soft breeze and the distant sound of music. Steve found a quiet spot, and we settled down, the weight of the evening's events settling upon us.
Even as I tried to focus on the present moment with Steve, my mind kept drifting back to Billy. I couldn't shake the feeling of unfinished business, the lingering questions that remained unanswered.
I found myself torn between the familiarity of Steve's friendship and the magnetic pull of Billy's enigmatic presence.
“How’s your night been?” I asked Steve, a playful smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “What happened with that girl?”
Steve’s face lit up with excitement as he shared the news. “We’re going out tomorrow night!” he exclaimed, unable to contain his happiness.
I let out a dramatic sigh, teasing him gently. “Finally!” I exclaimed, feigning exasperation. “I thought you’d never make a move on anyone.”
Steve pouted playfully, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Hey now,” he protested, his tone mockingly hurt. “You’re the only girl my parents like. You’re stuck with me for life.”
“Yeah, I’m okay with that,” I replied, a playful smile curling on my lips. “As long as I’m not forced to be the next Mrs. Harrington.”
Steve chuckled, his eyes shining with affection. “I love you, but let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” he teased. “The only way we’re ever getting married is if we’re both unhappy, stuck in Hawkins, and still single at the ripe old age of 35.”
We shared a lighthearted laugh, knowing that our futures held so much more than the small town we called home.
I gazed out at the street, the aftermath of the storm evident in the fallen trees and debris scattered along the pavement. The cool breeze brushed against my skin, providing a refreshing respite from the muffled sounds of the ongoing party.
Steve's voice broke through my reverie, his question drawing my attention. "You ready to go home?" he asked, concern lacing his words.
I tilted my head playfully, eyeing him. "Are you sober enough to drive?" I teased, knowing Steve's tendency to indulge in a drink or two during social gatherings.
A mischievous grin appeared on his face. "Do you need me to recite the alphabet backwards?" he retorted, a hint of mock seriousness in his tone.
Chuckling, I pushed myself up from the spot where I had been sitting. "I have to use the bathroom first," I informed him, gesturing towards the house. "I'll meet you at the car."
Steve nodded, his eyes following me as I made my way back inside. Finding my way through the lively crowd, I navigated towards the bathroom, grateful for a moment of solitude amidst the vibrant energy of the party.
I closed the bathroom door behind me, shutting out the chaos of the party, and I took a moment to collect myself. Placing my hands on either side of the sink, I leaned forward, my eyes fixed on my reflection in the mirror.
Taking a deep breath, I let the weight of the night wash over me. The exhilaration, the uncertainties, and the tantalizing possibilities that lay just beyond the horizon. With renewed determination, I straightened up and met my own gaze in the mirror.
I reached for the door handle, my hand poised to open it and rejoin the party outside. However, before I could grasp the handle, the door swung open, revealing Billy standing there, his expression filled with a mix of anger and frustration. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him, effectively trapping us in the confined space of the bathroom.
My breath caught in my throat as I met his intense gaze. The air between us crackled with tension, and I could feel the weight of his words before he even spoke them. “I’m real fucking mad at you,” he stated firmly, his voice laced with a raw intensity. he reaches his hand forward, wrapping his fingers around the base of my throat.
“Why is that?” I challenged, my voice laced with a mixture of frustration and determination. My eyes blazed with heat as I locked onto his.
His response came as a whisper, yet it reverberated through the room. “I told you, you’re mine,” he declared, his voice filled with a mix of possessiveness and vulnerability. “Or did you forget?”
“Maybe,” I retorted, my voice filled with a mix of defiance and playful challenge. “Are you going to have to remind me?”
A mischievous grin danced across Billy’s lips, and he closed the distance between us, stepping towards me until my back was pressed against the cool surface of the kitchen sink. His proximity sent a thrill coursing through me, and my breath hitched in anticipation.
In that moment, the world around us faded into the background as his lips captured mine in a passionate and all-consuming kiss.
The intensity of his touch sent shivers down my spine, erasing any doubts or hesitations that lingered within me. Our lips moved in perfect synchrony, a dance of desire and longing.
As our kiss deepened, the outside world ceased to exist. There was only the heat of our connection, the intertwining of our breaths, and the shared exploration of unspoken desires. The sound of the party faded into a distant hum, drowned out by the rising tide of passion between us. I surrendered myself to the intoxicating pull of Billy’s touch. The heat of his lips against mine, the possessiveness of his embrace.
“Are you okay Y/N?” I hear Steve’s voice, his fingers knocking on the door.
I heard Steve’s voice outside the bathroom door, his concerned tone breaking through the haze of passion that enveloped me. Billy pulled back slightly, his body still pressed against mine, as he placed a few sloppy kisses along my jaw and collarbones. The sensation sent a shiver down my spine, heightening the desire that pulsed between us.
I struggled to compose myself, my voice slightly breathless as I responded to Steve, “Yeah, I’m okay! Just be a minute!” My words came out in a rushed whisper, my mind still clouded by the intensity of the moment.
“Okay, I’ll be in the car. Hurry up” Steve’s voice faded into the background as Billy suckles at the perfect tender spot on my skin and I moan softly.
Billy’s lips found their way back to mine, his kisses carrying a mix of urgency and longing. I couldn’t help but respond, my own desire intertwining with his, as our lips met in another passionate embrace
As I reluctantly pulled back from Billy’s intoxicating kiss, my mind momentarily drifted to the world outside our passionate bubble. “I have to go”
Billy groaned in response, his lips seeking mine once more as if pleading to continue. In that moment, I found myself succumbing to the allure of his touch, momentarily forgetting everything around me.
But reality had a way of sneaking back in, and I gently pushed against Billy’s chest, creating a small space between us. “Steve’s waiting,” I reminded him, my voice filled with a mixture of longing and apprehension. Steve’s name hung in the air like a fleeting reminder of responsibility.
A flicker of frustration danced across Billy’s face, but he quickly composed himself. His breath brushed against my skin as he muttered, “Don’t think about him when I’m touching you,” his words laced with desire and possessiveness. His lips found their way to my collarbones, planting a series of fervent kisses, igniting a fire within me that was hard to extinguish.
The sensations overwhelmed me, and for a moment, I was lost in the thought of what could happen tonight. But the knowledge that I couldn’t keep Steve waiting tugged at my conscience, and with a heavy sigh, I reluctantly disentangled myself from Billy’s embrace.
“I have to go,” I whispered, my voice filled with a mix of longing and regret. I brushed a strand of hair away from my face, my eyes locked with his for a fleeting moment, conveying the unspoken desire and unfinished emotions between us.
Billy nodded, his eyes holding a mix of longing and disappointment. With a final lingering kiss on my lips, he released me, allowing me to make my way back to the reality awaiting me outside the secluded space we had shared.
As I closed the bathroom door behind me, leaving Billy in the temporary sanctuary of our shared desires, I returned to the vibrant atmosphere of the party. The sounds of laughter and music filled the air, mingling with the fluttering butterflies in my stomach.
Outside, Steve awaited me in his car, his impatience evident as he drummed his hands on the steering wheel. I slid into the passenger seat, a small smile playing on my lips. "That took forever," he groaned, playfully expressing his frustration.
I rolled my eyes, a hint of amusement in my voice. "Oh, come on. It wasn't that long."
He chuckled, shaking his head in mock exasperation. With a twist of the ignition, the car roared to life, carrying us away from the lingering echoes of the party. The drive back to his house was filled with comfortable silence.
As the familiar sights of Hawkins passed by, I couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and uncertainty. The memory of Billy's touch still lingered. But for now, as Steve maneuvered through the familiar streets, I leaned back in my seat, allowing the cool night air to brush against my skin.
As we approached Steve's house, I couldn't help but steal a glance at the rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of my reflection. The spark in my eyes, the trace of a smile on my lips, and the memories of the stolen moments with Billy were reminders of the whirlwind that had enveloped me.
As we stepped out of the car and made our way into Steve's house, a heavy sigh escaped his lips, drawing my attention to my best friend. Concern etched across my face, I reached out to him. "What's up?" I inquired, my voice filled with genuine curiosity.
Steve's shoulders slumped, his gaze fixed on the ground. "I feel like an asshole," he admitted, his voice laced with self-blame.
Surprised by his confession, I searched his eyes for answers. "Why?" I questioned gently, hoping to understand his turmoil.
"When the sirens went off, I didn't even think about you," Steve confessed, his words heavy with regret. "We got to the cellar and locked the doors. Nobody noticed you and Billy were gone."
I listened attentively, a mix of understanding and compassion flooding my heart. I reached out, gently placing my hand on his arm. "Steve, it's okay. We lived," I reassured him, my voice filled with reassurance.
His eyes met mine, a glimmer of sadness reflecting in their depths. "And if you didn't? Y/N, I can't imagine a world without you," he confessed, his voice choked with emotion. "Seriously, if they had pulled out your body, I'd..."
I placed a comforting hand on his cheek, my touch meant to convey understanding. "Billy actually protected me," I interrupted softly, wanting to ease his guilt. "He made sure I was okay. We talked and slept through most of the storm."
Steve's eyes widened in surprise, his expression a mix of relief and concern. "I wish I could have been there with you," he whispered, his voice filled with genuine regret.
Squeezing his hand gently, I offered him a small smile. "It's okay, Steve," I reassured him, my words filled with sincerity. "You couldn't have known what would happen."
Steve nodded, a mix of gratitude and sadness in his eyes.
───── ❝ unknown ❞ ─────
Steve parked the car in front of my house, and we both sat there for a moment, a mixture of excitement and nerves filling the air. He turned to look at me from the driver’s seat, his eyes searching for reassurance.
"Are you sure this shirt isn't ugly?" he asked, a hint of insecurity in his voice.
I couldn't help but gasp in surprise. "I brought you that shirt," I exclaimed, remembering the day we went shopping together and stumbled upon that particular piece.
He didn't say anything, just stared at me with a mix of gratitude and surprise.
"No, Steve," I reassured him. "You look great. Go enjoy your date. Just make sure she doesn't realize how much of a dumbass you can be sometimes."
A smile played on his lips as he nodded. "I'll call you later."
"I don't need the details," I teased, rolling my eyes playfully.
He waved goodbye and drove off, leaving me standing in front of my house wearing one of Steve's old shirts and a pair of shorts. I watched as his car disappeared down the street, feeling a mix of happiness for him and a tinge of loneliness.
Just then, the sound of a car engine caught my attention. I turned and saw Billy parking his blue Camaro a few houses away. My heart skipped a beat as I watched him step out of the car, his presence commanding attention.
I took a deep breath, adjusting my borrowed shirt, and made my way towards him.
“Hey,” I greeted Billy as I approached him, a mix of anticipation and nervousness swirling inside me.
"You weren't here last night," he observed, his eyes scanning me for any signs of explanation.
"No," I replied, raising an eyebrow. "I stayed at Steve's."
Billy's expression flickered, a hint of surprise and something else I couldn't quite decipher. He glanced away momentarily before meeting my gaze again.
"Steve's, huh?" he remarked, his tone laced with a hint of skepticism.
I shrugged, not wanting to delve into the details. "Yeah, we just hung out, talked, and watched some movies. Nothing special."
Billy's eyes lingered on me for a moment longer, as if searching for something beneath the surface. He seemed torn between curiosity and restraint, his usual guarded demeanor wavering.
"Well," he finally said, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Guess I'll have to make up for lost time then." A playful glint danced in Billy's eyes as he asked, "Are you going to invite me inside, or do I have to settle for fucking you in my car?"
I smirked, enjoying Billy's playful challenge. "Well, if you're offering, I wouldn't mind the car," I replied with a teasing glint in my eyes.
Billy raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Is that so?" he responded, stepping closer to me.
Before I could respond, he leaned in, capturing my lips in a searing kiss. The intensity of his touch sent a jolt of electricity through me, igniting a fire that had been smoldering between us
As the kiss deepened, I could feel the hunger and desire building between us, a magnetic force pulling us closer together. The touch of his lips against mine was both passionate and tender, a perfect balance of raw emotion and restrained longing.
Eventually, we pulled apart, our breaths mingling in the air. Billy's eyes bore into mine, his gaze filled with a mixture of desire and vulnerability. It was a silent invitation, an unspoken question hanging between us.
I smiled, the answer clear in my eyes. "Why don't we take this inside?" I suggested, my voice filled with anticipation.
Billy nodded, his grip tightening around his keys. "Lead the way," he murmured, a newfound excitement dancing in his eyes.
As I entered the house, Billy followed closely behind, the anticipation between us growing with each passing moment. I called out, hoping nobody would be home to answer. The absence of any response confirmed that we were alone, adding an extra layer of excitement to the air. “I guess it’s just us”
“Good” Billy responded quickly, pressing me against the wall, a surge of heat coursed through my veins, intensifying the desire between us. His hands explored my body with a hunger that mirrored my own, igniting a fiery passion that consumed us both.
Our lips met in a desperate kiss, a collision of lips and tongues that spoke volumes of the untamed desire we shared. Each touch, each caress sent electric shocks through my body, awakening every nerve ending. I melted into his embrace, surrendering to the intoxicating sensations that enveloped us.
Billy’s touch was both gentle and possessive, his fingertips tracing delicate patterns along my skin, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in their wake. The heat between us grew, fueling an insatiable hunger that seemed to consume us entirely.
As our bodies moved in sync, the rhythm of our desires matched perfectly. Moans and whispers filled the air, mingling with the sound of our racing hearts.
"Where's your bedroom?" Billy asked between kisses, his voice husky with desire.
"It's right over..." I started to respond, but my words were interrupted by a yelp as he effortlessly picked me up, his strength evident. The excitement in his eyes only intensified my own anticipation.
"Tell me," he demanded, his voice laced with a mix of command and desire.
I quickly directed him to my room, my heart racing as we made our way there. The anticipation grew with every step, each one bringing us closer to the privacy we both craved.
As we entered the room, Billy wasted no time in locking the door, ensuring that we were completely alone in our intimate space. The click of the lock echoed through the room, sealing us away from the outside world.
He gently placed me down on the bed, his touch sending sparks of electricity through my body. The hunger in his eyes mirrored my own.
“You makes my heart thump, my cock hard and my mind dirty. The things I want to do to you should be considered a sin.” Billy mumbled, his gaze fixed on me as I lay on my bed. His words caused a warmth to spread across my cheeks, a blush that betrayed the mix of emotions swirling within me.
Billy shifted his position, his body now hovering above mine, his strength carefully balanced to ensure he didn’t overwhelm me with his weight. As he settled into this new position, his hand gently traced the curve of my bottom lip, his touch eliciting a shiver that ran down my spine.
His gaze locked with mine, his eyes filled with a mixture of desire and tenderness. The touch of his hand on my lip was both electrifying and gentle, a delicate cares.. His fingers traced the outline, as if memorizing every contour, every detail, igniting a fiery longing within me. I felt my breath hitch in anticipation, my heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and nervousness.
“I want you, right now” I whisper, my lips hovering over his as I grabs the hem of Steve’s shirt, “but I need to get this off.” Billy nods. It’s bad enough I’m about to fuck my best friend’s enemy again, but I don’t want to fuck him with his clothes on.
I lift the large shirt over my head, discarding it to the floor and he dives forward, lips on my neck as he licks, kisses and sucks on my soft skin. My hands are in his hair, pulling his lips from her skin so I can sink my lips over his in a slow, torturous kiss before I pull on my bottom lip with my teeth.
Billy moves away from me, pulling at the string of the shorts and tugging them down my legs. My hands find his broad shoulders as I sit up and balance herself, removing one foot at a time. Billy throws them to the side before his eyes glide up my body, taking every inch of me in until his eyes finally land on mine. My eyes fluttering as I blink, chest rising and falling fast.
Billy tugs my legs forward so i’m sat on the edge of my mattress before pushing his lips against my inner thigh, trailing soft kisses against my hot skin.
“Y/N” He whispers, looking up at me through his lashes, “You’re mine.”
I cant help but nod my head, shallow pants leaving me.
“Good,” He groans, lifting his lips and pressing them on my other thigh, hooking a long finger in the side of the scrap of material and pull it to the side, exposing me. Sinking his teeth into his bottom lip, I watch him fall back on his knees as he reaches for me with his other hand and pushes my lips apart, sucking in a breath through his teeth.
“Billy,” I whisper, as he lifts my leg and place it over his shoulder, then tap my inner thigh of my left leg asking for me to spread out a little.
“Remember what I said before the storm?” He let his eyes find mine. “I said I like it when you say my name. Now sweetheart, I want you to show me how good my name sounds coming off your tongue whilst you cum on mine.”
“Fuck,” I whisper, as he swipes his tongue through my parted lips, flicking it against my clit then gliding it down, swirling and teasing before his back on the clit, sucking and nibbling. His fingers dig into my sensitive skin, spare hand skimming up to my bare stomach and holding me in place to stop my wriggling.
He buries his tongue deeper, trailing a hand to my other thigh and lift it over his left shoulder, then grip to my waist as he holds me where he wants me.
Slowly grazing his fingers under her ass, he lets them trail down behind me and tease at her opening, edging the tip of two fingers into my soaked pussy which causes my hips to buck forward, as his tongue laps across my sensitive area.
“Oh, Billy,” I pant, fingers finding his hair as I tug at the root, pushing him deeper.
Edging a little further into me, I feel him curl his fingers as he rubs my g-spot then slowly begin pumping in and out, matching the strokes of his tongue.
“Please Billy, I need more,” I begs, and he lifts his mouth from me, so he can look at me, fingers still fucking me.
“Then come,” He smirks, throwing a wink at me as he lurches forward and sinks his tongue between my lips again, sucking on my clit.
Billy teases with a third fingertip causing me to whimper as he slowly slips it in. I constrict around his fingers, pelvis tilting up slightly, giving him better access.
“I knew you were greedy,” He whispers between tongue strokes.
“Billy,” I moans, feeling him tilt his head to the side slightly and press his tongue flat against my clit “Shit,” I cry.
“Are you going to come for me?” His fingers fuck faster, harder.
“Yes, so fucking hard,” I cry again, fingers knot in his hair. I clench tightly as I grind down on his fingers, hips rocking back and forth slowly and I start to lose control.
I screams his name, pleasure lacing my voice. I feel Billy slide his tongue to her opening, lapping up as the wetness coats his fingers. He pulls away, watching as his fingers continue to fuck me, arousal coats his hand, a few drips running down his wrist and he smirks up at me.
“Enjoying this, sweetheart?” He asks in a raspy tone as he slowly moves my legs down and they tremble in his tight grip. I nod slowly, hazy from the orgasm that ripped through me. I reach between her legs and starts swirling my fingers over my clit.
He keeps his eyes focused on my pussy but just as I gets into it, I make myself stop, reaching for his hand and slipping his fingers out. I lifts them to my lips and sucks the three of them clean whilst keeping my eyes pinned on his. “Oh fuck,” Billy moans as pleasure ripples through him.
I grab his chin, fingers tight as I grips, and pulls him to my feet. Billy towers over me, causing my hand to drop.
“Now it’s my turn,” My fingers run under the waistband of his jeans, then hungrily tug them down his toned thighs. I feel my eyes widen, glazing with delight as I looks from his cock to his face, and smiles.
“I want you to take all of me,” Billy grips a fistful of my hair, tipping my head back so she has no option now but to look at him. “Do you understand? Every, single, inch of me.”
I nods eagerly, licking my lips.
“Good” He croons, stepping forwards as he pulls me towards him. My hands wrap around his girthy length as I purse my lips at his tip. My tongue swipes across, licking the precum away then hollowing my cheeks as I take him to the back of my throat. My body lurches forward as I gag, slipping me from her mouth. “Take it slow…”
I hear Billy choke on his own breath as I push my mouth down my cock, stilling when I get to the base and this time, I don’t gag.
“Shit,” He sucks in a harsh breath, and I slip him in and out of my mouth then twirls my tongue at his tip, I flatten my tongue and run it down the underside of his cock.
“Y/N,” Billy grits out, head tipping back as he grabs a bigger fistful of her hair, mouth slipping down his. “I’m going to explode,” He moans, moving my head up and down, teeth gently grazing along the sensitive skin. I pull him from my mouth, then spits on him. Rubbing my thumb over the tip of his dick. “Fuck. Open your mouth.”
I do as he says, sitting on my knees, eyes on him as, waiting with open mouth. I watch as Billy fists himself, keeping eyes locked on me.
His jaw clenches, head falling forward as pleasure consumes him. I just kneel up, taking him in my mouth as he wraps a hand around the back of my head, holding me there as he gently fucks my mouth. Saliva runs down my chin, my moans pushing Billy to continue.
“I’m going to come,” He grits, hips thrusting fast, cock slipping in and out of my mouth sloppily.
His eyes roll in the back of his head as I suck the life from him, lurching forward spurting down the back of my throat.
“Fuck!” He roars, a shiver blankets him causing him to shudder. I fall back, wiping the corner of her mouth before standing. Pulling me her towards him, Billy wraps his arms around me. We just stand for a while, completely forgetting where we are, just lost in this moment.
And in the aftermath, as our breaths mingled and our bodies trembled with the intensity of our shared release, we lay intertwined, our hearts still racing in the aftermath of our fiery encounter.
───── ❝ exposition ❞ ─────

School returned to its normal routine a week later, and during that time, Billy and I hadn’t crossed paths. The absence of his presence left a lingering sense of anticipation and curiosity within me.
Walking through the familiar hallways, I couldn’t help but steal glances, searching for that familiar mop of dark hair, those piercing blue eyes that had ignited a fire within me.
Billy sauntered into the hallways, his presence commanding attention as his eyes locked with mine. A smile tugged at the corners of my lips. However, before I could fully revel in that moment, my view of Billy was interrupted by the boy from the party, who had approached me.
“Hey, Y/N, how are you?” he greeted, trying to engage in conversation.
I offered a polite smile, my mind still lingering on the enigmatic boy who had captured my attention. “Um, fine,” I replied, trying to keep my focus on the present as I opened my locker.
The boy seemed eager, perhaps misinterpreting my friendliness. “I was a little nervous to call, so I was hoping we could just go for dinner and a movie tonight after school.”
I hesitated, my thoughts momentarily shifting to the secret moments I had shared with Billy, the secret connection that still lingered.
“Oh, sorry,” I began, my voice gentle yet firm, “but I’m actually not interested.”
His expression faltered, a mix of surprise and disappointment evident on his face. I felt a pang of guilt, understanding that I had inadvertently led him on.
“But you…” he started, his voice tinged with frustration as he reached out and grabbed my arm.
“Please don’t touch me,” I firmly requested, pulling my arm away from his grasp. It was a clear boundary that needed to be set, a reminder that my consent and personal space were to be respected.
I could feel Billy’s gaze on me as I shut my locker, determined to create distance between myself and the boy who had approached me. With a resolute stride, I made my way down the hall and into an empty classroom, seeking solace in the familiar walls and quiet atmosphere. I sat on a desk near the front, my eyes fixed on the door, silently hoping that Billy would follow.
A minute later, the door cracked open, and I held my breath as Billy slipped inside. There was a mixture of curiosity and concern in his eyes, as if he had sensed something amiss and was now seeking answers.
Without uttering a word, I gestured for him to join me. He closed the door behind him, the sound of it sealing us off from the outside world.
Billy took a few tentative steps toward me, his expression filled with an unspoken question. I met his gaze, my eyes reflecting a myriad of emotions, a mix of uncertainty and longing.
Billy positioned his hands on either side of me. I could feel his touch, his fingers lightly brushing against my thighs, sending a shiver down my spine.
“Yours,” I whispered, my voice barely audible in the intimate space between us.
A smug smirk danced on Billy’s lips as he leaned in, closing the distance between us. Our lips met in a passionate kiss, a merging of desire. His hands explored my body, tracing tantalizing paths, leaving a trail of electrifying sensations in their wake.
But just as the intensity between us reached its peak, the sound of the bell echoed through the classroom, signaling the end of our stolen moment. With reluctance, Billy pulled away, his eyes locked with mine, both of us left craving more.
“We’ll continue this later,” he murmured, his voice laced with a mixture of promise and frustration.
Copyright © 2023 Altitude. All rights reserved.
#written while i wasted 4 hours of my life in a queue for taylor swift tickets (no i didn’t get any)#this has been rewritten about 18 times because tumblr hates me so much what the fuck#btw my tumblr page looks so much cuter on desktop#fanfic#billy hargrove#stranger things#x reader#billy hargrove fanfiction#billy hargrove fanfic#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargove smut#billy hargove imagine#stranger things fanfic#billy hargrove x y/n#x yn#dacre montgomery#i dont know why yn says billy’s name so much sorry i didn’t reedit or reread#smut#billy hargrove smut
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tolerate it
summary: you and gale were growing apart. your usual cute routine slipped into becoming a mundane list of tasks you did, and the tension was slowly rising. it was high time something snapped between you two, it was just a matter of when.
or: you and gale get into an argument that ends.. badly.
word count: 2.8k
tags: established relationship, gale x gn!reader, angst, abrasive language, based on ‘tolerate it’ by tswift, lyrics used loosely, part of the mystra hate club
Gale Dekarios. Notorious ‘Wizard of Waterdeep’. Your boyfriend and the love of your life. You had been together for years now, you knew each other like the back of your hands.
There wasn’t a thing separating you from one another- until now. Until he started investing his time more and more into his studies. Until he started going away and into the weave for nights on end. Until he started ignoring you.
You had a nice routine going for a while. He’d get up, make you breakfast, and you’d start the shower for him. He’d get ready and you’d set the table, prepped with the dishes your friends gifted you when you moved in together. You’d go out to get the paper, and he’d be waiting for you to solve the latest crossword puzzle. You were always by his side, whether it was helping him point out certain notes in his books, or simply existing by him. Sometimes he’d cling to you, too, as you practiced in your artwork. If he had to leave for a while, you’d have dinner ready and made for him. Sometimes you’d do nothing at all and everything in the world together. You were inseparable.
But now? Now, that routine turned into daily tasks. Those tasks soon turned into chores, and finally, you dreaded waking up in the morning, only to feel your heart break over and over again. You tried to bring it up, tried to tell him how neglected you felt, but it was met with apathy, a wave of the hand, a “we’ll talk about this later”. You couldn’t bring yourself to up and leave- not after all the time you had spent on him. On together. Whatever your concept of “us” had become.
Today was no different than every day for the last three months. You sat at the table, watching Gale read over the paper you begrudgingly brought in. You watched his chest rise and fall unceremoniously, unfazed by the world around him. When he was done, he got up, put his dishes away, and left for his study to get back into things.
He didn’t even notice you hadn’t touched a thing on your plate.
A few hours went by, Gale left to go to the library, and you waited. You waited like a little kid, hoping that this time- this time would be different. This time he would come back and welcome you with open arms, this time he would kiss you like he used to, this time would be happy. This time he would love you.
He was gone for a few more hours, you made dinner, and you waited. Again and again, you waited. You waited for him to come home, to become the man he used to be. The longer you waited, the more he strayed from the path you thought you were on.
The day came and went, you made no move to attempt to talk about it. You were just tired of it all, now.
As you fell asleep, your back to his, you vowed you were over it. You swore to yourself that you were no longer going to sit and watch him, waiting idly for the day that he turned back around. You were not some lovesick puppy who, no matter how many times you were kicked or hit, continued to seek love from someone not willing to give it. You were done.
You didn’t get the paper the next morning. You didn’t set the table, or start the shower, you didn’t do anything you usually did. You got up, you got yourself ready for the day, and that was that. You needed time to think of how to approach him, so you went off to your area of the house and started working on a painting.
You were only left alone with your thoughts for a short time, though, before they were harshly interrupted.
“Why isn’t the table set?” He asked, his voice cold and fierce like he was lecturing a pet who’d done something wrong.
“Because I didn’t set it.” You answered, equally callous. You bit the inside of your cheek, forcing his words out of your mind. He wasn’t going to affect you. You swore on it. You vowed it.
“And why is that?” Why is that? You know why that is. You almost retorted, but instead, you took a breath and shrugged your shoulders.
“I didn’t feel like setting it.”
“Right. Of course.”
A hush fell within your space, you wondered if he was still there behind you. He was. You only knew from the loud sigh he let out, his footsteps trailing away and back out into the hall, that he finally left. You heard the dishes slam into the sink and his door smash shut. It shook your supplies. You wanted to cry. You wanted to scream- at him, at the world, at whatever changed him in such a way that it created this monstrosity before you.
You did everything for him, everything to bring him happiness and comfort, and you were left with what? His disinterest in you?
Was it your body? Were you no longer enough for him? Was it the sex? Did you not satisfy him anymore? Or had he simply grown tired of you altogether? Would nothing you did change anything at all?
He left after a while, and you broke down. Your tears landed in the paints below you, your portrait of him becoming something vile right before your eyes. You hated it. You despised this. This was your home, too. You were supposed to belong here, and yet you felt like a stranger in the space you created with your own hands.
You were waiting for him when he came home. Not with dinner, not with the paper, or with the table set. You were waiting for him with nothing but your words and a desire to leave. You couldn’t keep doing this anymore.
You stood in the foyer, waiting. Time passed slower than ever. You sat in the kitchen, waiting. The moon rose over the hills. You moved to the couch, you lit candles. You went to bed, he wasn’t there.
He wasn’t there.
Your sleep was restless, colder than ever, harsher than the last few months had been. Your desire to leave nearly slipped away. Would you rather be unhappy and in his presence than sleeping soundly? Was that what it came down to?
He was there when you woke up, sat at the kitchen table with his breakfast and the paper.
“I didn’t hear you come in.” You stated, watching as his eyes scanned the words. He didn’t look up at you.
“I didn’t come to bed.”
“I know.”
Silence. You wanted so badly to break it, to smash it with a sledgehammer and send the shards flying across the room.
“Gale-“
“Can we do this after I’ve eaten?”
“No, we can’t.”
No. Had you ever told him that word before? Had it ever slipped off your tongue in the way it just did?
“No?” Now he looked at you. Now he acknowledged your presence, taking up space in his world. Now he let you back in. Only for this.
“I’m done waiting to talk about this. You keep pushing me off- pushing this off. I’m done breaking at your feet and being disappointed that you won’t sweep me up, Gale.” You stood tall, strong. You focused on him, yet kept the image of your happiness ahead of you.
“What kind of a metaphor is that?”
“A damn good one!” You raised your voice at him. You raised your voice at him.
“Don’t shout at me.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
Silence. Was this what you wanted? Was this how you wanted to do it?
“Fine then. Let’s talk.” He pushed himself out from the table, standing and facing you directly. The deck was in your hands, it was your turn to deal the cards. Had you shuffled them in your favor? Was fate leaning in your direction?
“Fine then.”
You took a breath, thinking of all the time spent on him— spent doting on him, reassuring him, adoring him with everything you had. Then your mind turned to all the times he’d done the same for you. So far and few in between, clarity hit you harder than ever.
“I’ve been doing everything for you for the last few months and this is how you return the favor?” You asked, your eyebrows furrowed together in frustration and despair.
“You’ve hardly done everything,” he retorted, your anger boiling over.
“Every day- every damn day, I wake up and I get the paper, I start your shower, I set the table. When you leave, I clean the house, I polish plates until they gleam and glisten, I make dinner, I wait for you- I waited for you all night.” Your voice started to shake, but you steadied yourself.
“If it’s all, somehow, in my head- please by all means tell me now. Tell me I’ve got it wrong somehow. You act like I’ve done nothing for you when I do everything in the world.”
“And I haven’t done the same?”
“While you were out building other worlds, where was I? When you spent hours on end away from me, where was I? What did you do when you got back? Where’s that man who threw blankets over my barbed wire? Who’d come home and shower me with all the love in the world because he missed me?”
“I still love you.” He tried to interject, but you were past it. Your words were flowing faster than you could think, you had spent so much time cooped up with your thoughts that it all just came out at once.
“No, Gale. I made you my temple, my mural, my sky— now I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life. It’s like I don’t even exist to you anymore. You haven’t kissed me in months, we haven’t had a meaningful conversation in weeks. It’s like I’m always taking up too much space or time,” you didn’t want to sound like it, but gods were you begging for him to just return to you.
“Y/N, this is ridiculous. I’ve just been busy. It’s not like we’ve been arguing. We’re fine- there’s been a lot going on,” He sighed, your heart breaking more with every defense he made.
“Really? You assume I’m fine but what would you do if I—“ you cut yourself off, choking back a sob as tears welled in your eyes. How could you say it? How could you even dare ask that question after all you’d been through?
“If you what?” He demanded to know, crossing his arms over his chest. He only wanted to know for himself, not for you, not for your “us” that was slowly crumbling at your feet.
“Break free from this- from us- leave us in ruins? You’re twisting this dagger in me time and time again, Gale. What would you do if I took it and removed it?” Your voice cracked as it raised, your hands gesturing with your words. He looked shocked, almost, that you would even suggest such a thing.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Believe me, I could do it!” You exclaimed, turning and grabbing a bag you had ready nearby in case things went south. You held it up to show him how serious you were about the situation.
“Y/N.”
“I know my love should be celebrated and yet- and yet, you tolerate it. I greet you with a battle hero’s welcome, I take your indiscretions all in good fun, I sit and listen— every day. Every day. And instead of loving me, thanking me for everything I do for you, I get ignored, tossed to the side like I mean nothing to you. You tolerate everything I do like I’m a burden to be around. You expect me to be able to just carry this weight of your disregard for my existence around like nothing. Well, I can’t carry it anymore.” Tears rolled down your cheeks, you noted his expression shift and change as he realized the significance of everything going on. It was like he was seeing how badly he screwed up just now and needed to stall to find out how to fix it.
“Don’t leave-“
“I’m done!”
“Y/N.”
You slung your bag over your shoulder, pushing past him and heading for the door. It hurt. It hurt more than anything in your life ever had but in a small, tucked away part of your heart, it felt better than ever.
“Y/N!” He raised his voice, you nearly stopped, but you kept going.
He called your name again, but you blocked him out. You blocked it all out- the damage, the outrage, the apprehension. You had no idea where you were going or what you were doing next but you didn’t care. You were free and you’d be damned if you weren’t happy about it.
Except it wasn’t that easy, of course it wasn’t. It never could be.
Suddenly, you were back in the house, unable to move. You were stuck in place, an emblem glowing around you. He cast a holding spell. You wanted to kick and scream and claw your way out, but you were helpless. You were nothing in comparison to him— did he have to make you aware of that?
“You wanted to talk. I hardly got a word in at all.”
You were released from the spell, not daring to look him in the eye. How could he? How dare he?
“How dare—“
“Don’t start.” He warned, his voice lowered to his seriousness. You became afraid. Afraid? You’d never been afraid of him. Afraid of losing him, sure. But afraid of him? Never. Except for now.
“My sincerest apologies go out to you for feeling this way. But I would never-“
“And yet you did!” You cried out, holding yourself together. You couldn’t pick yourself up if he just kept smashing you to pieces like this. You swore you could do this, that you would do this, but he was making it harder by the second.
“You can’t just leave like this!”
“I can and I will, goddamnit! I don’t want to be with someone who will never give me the peace of mind or recognition of my love that I deserve!”
“For Mystra’s sake..”
“Don’t bring her into this.”
“I’m not bringing anyone into anything. Nothing is happening! You’re not leaving!”
You both stared at each other, eyes narrowed with frustration at one another. You wanted this to be over. You needed it to be over.
“You know what, Gale. It’s really nice putting two-and-two together. Because ever since you started slipping away into the Weave, you’ve gotten more and more distant.”
“Don’t say what you’re about to say, y/n. You’ll regret it.”
“Oh? Will I? Will I regret it as much as I’ve regretted these last few years with you? Had I known I’d be standing here, begging to be let go, I would’ve never touched you in the first place. I would’ve never even laid eyes on you if I knew that, eventually, you’d let Mystra take hold of you. That you’d let her back into your life how she used to be— tell me, Gale, did you intertwine your soul with hers in those hours away? Did she convince you I was wrong for you? Did she steal you from me, or did you give yourself up willingly?”
He was silent, you had your answer.
No more waiting, no more serving hand and foot, no more. None of it. You gathered yourself up off the floor once more, straightened yourself out, and walked right out the door again. He didn’t try to stop you this time. He didn’t fight it.
Part of you wished he had, that he’d answer you in a way that fit the sad reality you wanted to twist. That it’d turn out he was just busy, that he was stressed and didn’t want to talk about it, and that he’d apologize for everything. Part of you wanted to find comfort in his arms, sob into his chest about how sorry you were for fighting, that you’d both do better. You yearned for him so badly that you were almost willing to turn around and give it all up again for him, but you didn’t. You valued your peace more than him. It would be an adjustment, you knew, but you could do it.
You could do it with a broken heart.
And in a few years, when you’d eventually cross paths again, you’d be happy. You’d have your peace and your love, and you’d be able to show him that you were worth it. You were worth the time and effort he could have put into you but didn’t. You’d be able to show him what he missed out on, and you wouldn’t be sad, or upset about it. You wouldn’t revert to that night, you’d stay the same, changed but strong, person you’d become.
Your love would be celebrated, not tolerated.
#baldur's gate 3#fanfiction#for you#for you page#gale dekarios#gale of waterdeep#bg3#bg3 gale#taylor swift#taylor swift lyrics#angst#gale x reader#gn reader#baldurs gate gale#baldurs gate fanfiction#writing#gale angst#bg3 angst#fanfiction angst#baldur’s gate fanfiction#taylor swift fanfiction#lyrics#song lyrics#lyric fic#fiction#fanfic#gale fanfic
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speak now (tv) countdown
#the idea was for it to look like a teenager's notebook back page where they have doodled their crush name repeatedly#speak now tv#enchanted#taylor swift edits#speak now poster#tsusermels#tsuseraugust
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HEADERS AND ICONS OF TAYLOR SWIFT AT THE 2023 GRAMMYS
requested by anonymous
all headers are 800px by 430px. all have a black or white border option. change background to white #ffffff or black #000000.
all icons are 128px by 128px.
if you want a different colour or other changes, message me with the image url and what you want!
please don’t claim them as your own or repost them on tumblr or anywhere else
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view them under the cut or under MIDNIGHTS on my icons page and headers page
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HEADERS
ICONS
#tswiftedit#taylorswiftedit#taylor swift#taylor swift icons#taylor swift headers#midnights#grammys#iconfrenzy#*mine#*2023#*headers#*icons#mine: midnights#sorry that these took so long but hope you enjoy!!#time to update the page haha
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The Alcott - Lockwood x reader
A/N: (1.8k) lil bit of angst, a little bit of a happy ending, kind of a sequel to the august (tsitp trailer version) fic which you can read here
It had been a while since she’d seen Lockwood and a little while longer since he’s seen her. They were a busy agency and occupied themselves well - better than she occupied herself. She read their glowing articles in the papers and traced their outlines in their photos. Nobody else would have noticed the slight gap between Lockwood and Lucy, but she did. Not that it seemed to matter much anyway. They looked so normal, so capable, when all she felt like was a wreck.
She stayed holed up in her apartment for the first few weeks, face pressed against the dark window of the miserable flat she rented. She watched people scurry home as curfew approached, home to people who cared about them. A part of her felt that thought that wasn’t fair, and maybe it wasn’t, but she was too bitter to care. Bitter about what, she didn’t know. Her glassy eyes would reflect the pale glow of the ghosts as they shimmered in the streets, and a funny feeling would creep into her stomach when she realised all one had to do was reach up and touch her, and there wouldn’t be anyone to protect her, to pull her away from the window, to snap some sense back in her. In short, she had been having a terrible time, and in her grief, her resentment festered and oozed and infected her life.
Days passed in a blur, and eventually she had started leaving her dim dwelling, without realising. She felt badly scarred and numb and there was this grim quality to her life that made joy and grief one and the same. Lucy wrote her a letter; how she found her new address was beyond her but her knee-jerk thought was that if Lucy could have found it, so could have Lockwood. She didn’t believe anything in that letter anyway - it was probably riddled with exaggerations and half-truths just to get her to come back.
Lockwood and co’s articles piled up and littered her floors until she couldn’t bear to read them, only spitefully glancing at the pictures. Sometimes Lucy looked a little pale or shaky, or George looked exhausted, but not Lockwood. If anything, his eyes grew brighter and brighter with some manic energy, clutching George and Lucy tighter to his sides each time. It was revolting. Rude, even.
But her savings were running low, and she knew it would only be a matter of time before she’d have to go back home to her family. But home was so far away from here, so far away from 35 Portland Row, and maybe a part of her felt that going home meant never coming back. Even after all the glaring and stabbing their pictures right between his eyes, there had been something comforting in feeling like one day she’d wake up from this delusion, from being this angry mess and she’d walk right back in and they’d throw their arms around her like no time had passed and Lockwood would finally look at her like she was something more than vapour.
Her days were running thin, so on one of her last nights she decided to go to that cafe they’d eat at when there were lulls in the case. It was the closest she could get to an indirect goodbye. She was sitting at the back of the cafe like they always did, in a corner just dim enough for her to hide in the shadows she was going to melt back into soon. She wasn’t a sentimental person but she did keep a diary even though the others teased her endlessly about it, but she didn’t care. As she flipped through the older pages, stiff with hope and love, it felt like no time had passed at all - Lockwood was just as alive and breathing in her mind as he had been before she left.
It was deathly quiet in the little shop, with it being past curfew, but she couldn’t stay forever. Her mind was scattered and it was difficult to write, like a weakened muscle long forgotten. So she wrote about the common denominator of all her thoughts- Lockwood. How she missed him, how she wished he was here, how she felt her heart would stop if she ever heard his voice again. Somehow, it was as if her words slipped off the pages into reality, because she heard a rustle of fabric and there was Lockwood, standing in front of her.
She must have gaped at him for a minute, because one minute he was standing in front of her and the next, sitting opposite her, his expression as inscrutable as the day she left. They exchanged pleasantries but they were both a bit like goldfish, in that neither of them knew exactly what to say.
“I check the papers…sometimes. You guys look- you look good. Lots of cases.”
“Oh, yes, thank you.”
Silence.
“You know, I wondered sometimes - just a thought, and I’d forget it nearly as soon as it came - whether you’d seen the photos. Wasn’t sure…”
More silence.
“Come here often?”
“No, no, I was just in the area and I thought I’d pop in.”
“Pop in here, but not home?”
Something ugly reared up inside of her to hear him say home so casually like that, when she obviously meant nothing to him. She wanted to hurt him, stab his voodoo doll needle by needle, screaming at the top of her lungs.
“I’m leaving. London, that is.”
Lockwood’s barely cynical expression softened. She didn’t know what made her say that - she didn’t need to, god, he probably didn’t even care. But she couldn’t stop the past few weeks from spilling out.
“There’s nothing left for me here anyways. It’s cold, the only apartment I can barely afford is pathetic, I’ve become so miserable I could look at a daisy and hate it for being so happy, it takes so much of me to just walk out the door and breathe and live like normal people. Just tell me how to forget about you and your stupid love and move on-”
“That’s ridiculous,” Lockwood told the tablecloth in a brisk tone. “You have so much here, you have us- ”
“Then why won’t you even look at me?” She was embarrassingly close to tears, but it wasn’t like she was ever going to see him after tonight, so what did anything matter?
Lockwood’s lips were pressed together and he finally raised his gaze, though not without some effort. It was almost embarrassing to have him watch her sniffle like this but she drank his eyes in desperately, like a man starved, and she didn’t even care.
“You left.”
She could barely croak out a whisper. “And you were supposed to care.”
Lockwood had this look of irrepressible thoughts and words bubbling under his surface, but he remained quiet.
“Give me…one good reason. I’d stay.”
“We miss you.”
“Not good enough.”
“Fine. I miss you.”
She slammed her hands on the table. “As if! You never wrote, you never visited, and don’t insult my intelligence by pretending you couldn’t have-“
“Yes, I could have visited you and yes, I didn’t, but not because I didn’t want to!” Lockwood’s face was white with suppressed anger. “Believe me, I’ve dreamt of it, of dragging you out of whatever hellhole you’d scurried off and bringing you home, but what was I supposed to say? ‘Oh, Y/N, please please please come back, I feel so lost without you and my life has no meaning anymore that every job is just a game of how fast I can join my dear old family! And that’s a good enough reason for you to continue risking your neck, believing in my fool’s gold when no sane person will, so come along while I worry myself half to death over situations I put you into.’ ”
And as she looked at Lockwood, she had that horrifying realisation that the only reason she had been stuck in that cycle of hatred and feeling like death was because she had been so angry with herself. The same anger brewing that had her frothing at the mouth had been swelling up in Lockwood too.
He scratched his arm absent-mindedly, slightly breathless, and she knew how he felt. She felt like she was breaking out in hives, it was all too much, too much to bear.
“I risk my neck…for you. Because I want to. And nothing, no ghost, type one, two or three could scare me off. I’d go for any and every crazy plan like I had a death wish as long as you were on board. In some ways,” she puzzled, staring into her coffee, “I think that’s my greatest crime. I didn’t stop you…I never have, and I’m probably not strong enough to ever do it.”
“You’d stop me.” He was looking at her in a strange way now. “I know you’d find the strength somewhere inside of you to stop me from jumping into fires. At least, you’ve been successful so far.”
It was a stupid half-joke, but they laughed anyways, and suddenly their fight was stupid too. There was something about the crow’s feet peeking at the edge of Lockwood’s eyes that made him irresistibly young, undoing the damage of years of dealing with the Problem for just a split second. It made him look boyish and full of life, thrumming with energy. Suddenly, she realised Lockwood was studying her curiously, though no where as intensely as she was looking at him, and she smiled awkwardly.
“I’ve always wondered where you run off to when you space out like that. It’s like your little…” Lockwood paused, tapping his temple, “your little…golden…birdcage of thoughts, just flirting about. After the poltergeist,” the shadows on his face deepened ever so slightly, “it was like I could…feel you, retreating back to it whenever you guessed none of us was paying too much attention. Like something…fascinated you, drew you in…away from us. So I was mad because I had to be. I needed to snap you out of it, smash that cage you were so wrapped up in. And then the next morning…your bed was empty.”
She spoke carefully. “I can’t quite explain it, but believe me; you’d be better off without me.” It was her Achilles heel, her Midas touch, that all she had to do was touch Lockwood and he’d be frozen in gold to be forever admired and loved in her head, but little more than dead to anyone else. Her touch brought ruin, but it seemed like a small price for him to pay after how he ruined her.
He seemed frustrated, but she felt oddly at peace. It was as though a vacancy had formed in her heart where her love for him would echo for days and nights until her last breath, but there simply wasn’t room for it in the real world. How cruel it was, to be able to reach out and feel everything she wanted under her fingertips, and having to pull away.
“I think I’m…falling back in love with you.”
#anthony lockwood imagine#anthony lockwood x reader#anthony lockwood x you#fanfic#lockwood & co#lockwood and co#lockwood and co netflix#lockwood x y/n#fanfiction#the alcott#taylor swift#the national#first two pages of frankenstein
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read my sentence out loud
'cause I love this curse on our house
The National - The Alcott (feat. Taylor Swift)
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Foreigner's God | m.m
Pairing: Matt Murdock x avenger!OFC
Chapter Forty-Two: I'll Get The Coffee
previous chapter ° series masterlist
Summary: Everything is looking up for Matt and Eliza, finally, and being in love can be truly beautiful.
Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 you tap it), oral m!receiving, voice kink (?), fluff, this is so fucking soft, like this is just domesticity at its finest, and these two finally being happy.
a/n: HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY! Or as I like to call it, "Single's awareness day" because we are made aware of how painfully single we are everywhere we go <3 I wrote this with the original storyline in mind but then I went like, 'Wait a minute, I think these two deserve a break' and then this came out and I feel like I did it wonderfully. One of the best descriptive chapters I have written in my opinion (at parts, at least). I hope you can forgive me for this small break in the plotline.
The name she chose when she joined SHIELD came from a variety Nick Fury had laid out for her. With the title came a series of key points that would shape her identity. She chose her name with those traits in mind and landed on the most appealing one. She had always been rather proud of her name because it was the only thing in her life she could control, but that excitement eased after finding out she was born with the name Alina and that the name and identity she chose were just an alias to survive. Someone to exist in the eyes of the state so she could live like any other US citizen and not be locked away for it.
When she first came to SHIELD and she was pardoned by the court while also receiving immunity for her crimes if she stayed true to the conditions she agreed to, the name she was given had felt like a blessing. Now, it filled her with dread.
When Tony Stark stepped out of the back door of Clinton Church where the cemetery lay beyond and he said, “Eliza,” she cringed at the mere sound of her name.
The gravestone wasn’t too fancy. It displayed his name, his date of birth, and the date he died. There was no quote, no ‘beloved father’ engraved underneath the most crucial information. He was simply Anton Sokovich-Petrova who was born in March and died in late June of 2016. He blew up an ancient terrorist organization and prevented an even worse fate from meeting his daughter, but that would have looked poorly on a gravestone.
All that was left for him was the boring gray stone that had been glazed over. A place for his daughter to stand at, leave flowers, and do all of the sentimental stuff people do at the graves of loved ones. She doubted she would; she hated the way it made her feel, how the pain caused her throat to tighten, and it made her angry too. She was angry at how everything turned out, and she was angry that her father died. Her parents were both dead and she didn’t have any extended family. She was all alone when it came to blood relations and the knowledge that she hadn’t been able to say goodbye to any of them made her already broken heart into liquid acid.
Eliza, that was her name, but at that moment she wasn’t the woman SHIELD made out of her. At that moment, she was the five-year-old daughter of Anton whose name wasn’t Eliza Bennett, it was Alina and she was standing with her father at the grave of her late mother, leaving lilies on the already grown-over earth as if it meant anything. Somewhere in the back of her mind, the memory crawled its way forward and nestled into her frontal cortex.
The hand that was in hers squeezed lightly, reminding her that someone behind her was waiting for a reaction. She looked up at the sky, cloudier than usual, blinking away the hot tears that she had already cried too many of.
“Do you want me to tell him to leave?” Matt’s voice sounded in her ear, a gentle echo that scratched an itch in her brain.
She squeezed his hand back, though she felt more like an emotionless robot that wasn’t in control of herself.
“You don’t have to do this, you know? You don’t owe him anything.”
“You’re right, I don’t,” Eliza said, her eyes still directed forward and her face white as a sheet, “but I want to.”
He nodded. “I’ll leave you to it then.”
Using his cane to tap his way over the grass, Matt made his way over to where he could hear Foggy’s distinctive voice as he talked to Happy. They were talking about football, from the sound of it. There was a new game on Sunday and they were both engaged in how it would turn out. At some point, he could hear, they even made a brotherly bet on who was going to win the game. It was a terrible topic to discuss at a cemetery after someone had just been laid to rest, but Matt figured that it was better not to dwell too much on what happened than to let Father Lantom’s service drag their moods down.
Tony approached the young woman at the grave.
“Where does that leave us?” she asked.
He replied, “What?”
“You coming here. Where does that leave us? You didn’t answer any of my messages. You ghosted me after writing a heartfelt letter and now you came to my father’s funeral as if it’s the most natural thing to do after not speaking to anyone for weeks,” she said. “Where does that leave us, Tony?”
He was not a man of many words or actions, but when he spoke, he knew how to use the little number of words that came out. Although this time, nothing seemed to suffice. He wanted to comfort her but he didn’t know how.
“I told you that I now understand why you did what you did and that I am open to talking about what happened. You didn’t respond. I don’t know what that means, so I’m asking you: what did your apology mean if it meant anything at all?”
Tony nodded curtly. He turned his head toward the sky as well, taking a deep breath that developed into a sigh. “I feel guilty,” he finally spoke, “for what I did, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I said, what I did, and how I behaved like an asshole,” he said. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, I said as much in my letter, but you’re willing to offer it to me anyway. I didn’t know how to react, so I shut down. I drowned in my guilt and shame to the point no one could help me anymore. I realized I fucked up and that most of what happened are on me and that is something… Your getting hurt is something that I can never forgive myself for. The protection charade was complete and utter bullshit and I'm... well, I'm fucking sorry, that's what the letter meant, and I still am, possibly even more than before.”
“What changed?” Eliza asked. She held her jacket closed by crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Why did you choose to come here today?”
“Your invitation to your father’s funeral opened my eyes. He died for a reason and I… I don’t want you to hate me anymore. I want to make things right. I don’t know if you can find it in yourself to give me that chance, and it would be okay if you didn’t, but if you did, I promise you I won’t ever lie to you again. Not even about what’s in your dinner.”
She chuckled weakly. “That’s all I needed to hear… weeks ago. Now it’s just cold air.”
“Eliza, please, I don’t apologize often, but I am sorry. Let me prove it to you. Come to work for me again, let me show you that I meant what I wrote in that letter. Let me just let my actions speak for myself the same way my actions fucked everything up."
Life’s too short to hold grudges. And he had always been like a father to her before, and a great mentor at that. She could learn so much from him. She needed to learn forgiveness, which also happened to be on her sobriety list of steps, and she swore she would do them all. She forgave him, but something was lacking, something crucial that wouldn’t reappear overnight.
Eliza cleared her throat. She tore her eyes away from the sky and turned to him, finally, looking into his eyes. “You need to earn my trust,” she told him. “I forgive you, Tony, but my trust… that is something I can’t just give back to you. You need to prove that you truly meant what you said so I can fully trust you again, and only then we can move on from this.”
“Okay, I can- I can do that." He didn't smile, he gave her a curt nod. It was a language they both spoke well - not knowing what to say.
“One more condition: I won’t come back to work for Stark Industries. I’ve got a job right here.” She nodded toward Matt and Foggy. “I’m not giving that up. I'm happy where I am, and I don't want to throw that away just for money."
“Deal. What else?”
“There is nothing else. The rest is on you. In return, I’ll do the same for you. But it’s going to take time.”
“Lucky for us,” said Tony, “we have all the time in the world. There's nothing that stands in our way now, right? You did your best and you did better than I ever fucking could.”
"You're right, I did great. You didn't. Do you see now that I am not a child anymore?"
"I've seen it for a long time, I was just afraid to admit it."
She hummed, "Figured that much."
"So, do we have a deal?"
She took the hand he offered her, shaking it briefly. Their eyes stayed locked on each other; it appeared as if they were fighting for dominance, and the pressure of the handshake told the same story. In the end, Eliza won. He was the first to turn away from the contact and she smirked, wiping her hand on her dress.
He cleared his throat once more. “This is getting weird,” he must have read her mind, “So I’m just gonna turn around and go. That’s- yeah, I should probably do that.”
“It’s for the best,” she said.
“Definitely. Good talk, kid.”
She watched him step away and toward Happy’s car. Foggy and Matt didn’t say a word to him, and she couldn’t blame them. After everything, they had their reservations about the genius billionaire philanthropist playboy. It was only natural, a defense mechanism to make sure he wouldn’t come near them again. In this case, they wanted to make sure Tony knew that if he touched Eliza again, he would face a whole different orchestra of music.
She chuckled at their overprotective nature, then turned back to the gravestone. It seemed to stare even harder than Jesus on his cross.
Eliza cracked her neck, frowning at the empty grave. “Don’t look at me like that, you wanted us to get along again, dad.” Naturally, she didn’t receive an answer. Even if there had been a body, the dead usually don’t speak with the living, so she wouldn’t have received an answer either way.
“And now I’m talking to a literal stone like those people in the movies. That feels even weirder than playing pretend with a fucking toddler.” She wiped her runny nose with her sleeve. “But at least your soul’s where it’s supposed to be now. Thanks, dad.”
He probably heard her, wherever he was and thought to himself that he won. But it wasn’t Anton that motivated her to forgive Tony, it was her mind. She made that decision. She had control over her life the same way she had back then when she first had to choose her new identity.
She was in full control of herself now and even the last hurdle was out of the way. Her father was dead, but the world would carry on. It was time for a new beginning, starting right then and there. She could move on.
Birds chirped in the early morning sun, basking in the soft rays of red that broke through the earth’s surface and supplied the planet with light. A soft wind blew through the green leaves on the tree, sending some soaring through the air. It was a soft morning breeze that caused a welcome chill on the skin, but the sun made the cold go away just as fast. Little clouds danced over the sky, forming mythical shapes.
The City of New York slowly woke out of its slumber. Curtains opened, coffee makers sizzled, and toasters worked in high gear. The day started differently for everyone, some were happy to be awake, others not so much, but the warm weather and clear skies made a look out of the window worth it, and it was enough to raise the mood in every household, even if just for a moment of relief between breakfast and getting ready for work.
The arm that was draped over her waist slowly slid a hand under her shirt, scurrying for warmth. Still drunk on sleep, she allowed the force to pull her back into the sturdy chest she knew all too well. Sloppy kisses followed the wandering hand, his soft lips leaving the breath of an angel on the skin of her shoulders.
The chirping of the birds grew louder. The sun broke through the slit in the curtains, filling the bedroom with at least some daylight and illuminating the small particles of dust that levitated in the air. Clothes were strewn all over the floor, even one of the pillows had fallen off the bed and added to the fabric pile.
Matt woke up first. Not quite aware of his surroundings just yet, he nuzzled his face in the crook of her neck. The slight scratch of his freshly trimmed stubble had her stirring in her sleep, and she slowly began to wake.
He continued kissing her skin and tracing his fingers over her heated stomach until she let out a tired whine. Eliza flipped around, burying her face in his chest, and somehow tried to evade the process of waking up.
He chuckled at her failed attempt, running a hand through her hair. “Good morning,” he said.
She grumbled.
“Someone not awake yet?”
She grumbled again.
“I take that as a no.”
“Five more minutes,” Eliza whined. “Don’t wanna get up.”
“That makes two of us. This is cozy,” Matt wrapped both of his arms around her to hold her body to his even closer, “and I love cozy.”
“And you’re warm.”
“That too.”
She made a content sound in the back of her throat; it resembled the purr of a small cat. His chest rumbled with the soft chuckle he let out, his voice still groggy and thick with sleep. His nose was slightly stuffed from the used air that had collected in the room. Matt made a mental note to open the window as soon as they got out of bed and the risk of her getting sick was minimized. She froze easily, he didn’t want to add to that and cause a cold.
Eliza buried her nose between the pecks on his chest. He not only smelled like himself but he smelled of her shampoo and partly of her perfume that lingered in the sheets. It was a comforting smell that had her floating on cloud nine. For the first time in what felt like forever, there was nothing to worry about. She closed the chapter of her past and she found herself. They saved the world and in the process, he saved her.
Matt Murdock saved her life. He did so the second he stepped into the interrogation room to bail her out. He came back. He always came back.
The world was okay again. It wasn’t perfect, it couldn’t be, but she could finally sort out the feeling that caused such warmth in her chest. She was happy. She was so in love and she was happy with the man she loved by her side. There was nothing that could tear them apart now. They made it through hell and still stuck together.
At the beginning of the year, she would have never thought her life would take such a drastic turn. She couldn’t have predicted the fallout after the Sokovia Accords or Hydra. If someone had told Eliza that she would almost die but find the love of her life that year, she would have called them crazy or even delusional. She had never fathomed something like this possible. Her life often went to shit, so something like Hydra coming back to haunt her was bound to happen, but finding Matt was a destiny come true that she could not have seen coming. All the fears she’d had before were gone now and she could finally rest.
Her life was finally on the up again.
“You know you can’t get inside of me, right?” Matt mused into her ear.
She whined, pressing her face so deeply into his chest that her nose got squished. “Why not?” she said.
“Because I can’t absorb you, that’s not how it works, love.”
“Unfair.”
He chuckled again, lazily tracing his callused fingertips over her spine. “You’re beautiful,” he said.
The heat rushed to her cheeks. “Stop it.”
“Never.”
“I’m not as beautiful as you make me out to be.”
Matt gasped, and although it sounded playful, it was far from it. He tangled his hand in her hair, pulling her head back gently and just enough to bring her face to the same level as his. She closed her eyes, afraid to look at him, but he merely traced the loose strand of hair from her face and grabbed her cheek. “You are beautiful,” he said again, eyes loving though they didn’t meet hers, couldn’t possibly, but she felt every ounce of his love in the way his lips pressed to hers, caressing her with such unconditional love that had her shaking.
“How can you judge that? You’ve only seen me once-”
“I don’t need to see you to know that you’re beautiful. Pushing away the thought that I objectively saw you, I use other markers to judge your beauty, even though beauty is something I feel like no one is allowed to judge. To me, you are beautiful. And you wanna know why?”
She shook her head, nose still pressed against his. “Tell me,” she said.
“First of all,” he began and with his arm hugged around her waist, he rolled them over until she laid on her back underneath him, “I can feel you,” he said.
His index finger started at her forehead, tracing over the worry line that was nothing but a faded memory under his touch. He smoothed over her eyebrows, following the growth. He traced her temple, the distinctive vein that popped when she was angry or swallowed hard; he felt her pulse there. Then, he traced along the bridge of her nose and the top of it, pressing down slightly and she scrunched, making him chuckle.
“That’s cute,” he murmured, “when you do that.”
He continued his wordless journey over her cheekbones, the skin red with the blood that pooled underneath, and so were her lips that she kept continuously biting with every electrifying touch he left on her skin. He pulled at her plump bottom lip, tracing the cupid’s bow of her top lip. Her tongue darted out to lick over his thumb, sucking on it momentarily before he pulled away.
“I can feel you,” Matt told her, “and every scar or wrinkle on your face. I can feel every crevice and every imperfection that you hate but I love so damn much. And your eyes…” he traced her lashes. “I don’t even need to know the color, although I do now, to know that you are beautiful. You were beautiful to me before you showed yourself and you are still now. I love your eyes,” he said, “because they always look at me, no matter where you stand or where you are. You always seek me out and when you see me and your heart jumps, that’s when I know your eyes start to sparkle and you look at me the same way I do when I think of you.”
“What’s that?” she asked, her lungs out of breath.
“Like you’re my world and I am yours.”
With his hand still on her cheek, he pulled her toward himself and captured her lips again. This one was no less gentle.
“And your lips are kissable, but you know that. You knew that already.”
Still, out of breath, Eliza kissed him again. The words out of his mouth turned her head. They made her feel all kinds of things, none of them bad. She had never felt so on top of the world. He showed his love and devotion plenty, but his words paid with his touch were enough to make her fall even deeper in love with him.
When her kisses grew more desperate, he pulled back. “I’m not done yet,” he said.
His finger brushed along her jawline and down her neck where he traced her pulse point and her sternum. He painted a picture on her collarbone, moving lower down until he reached the collar of her top. Without struggle, he pulled the fabric over her head, leaving her torso bare to him. He drew stars over the vertical scar that adorned her chest and abdomen, a reminder of the worst night of both of their lives, and then he moved on to the smaller scars, paying the same attention to them. There was one on her hipbone and her lower stomach.
He found her thigh, reaching into the leg of her shorts only to touch the skin he had missed, then traveled back down over the other scars that she had put on herself, the stretch marks on her sides and her ass, but even when she gasped, he didn’t stop. Matt felt the urge to prove to her that nothing could disgust him about her and that he loved every inch of her body. He worshipped the ground she walked on and he worshipped her body like her body itself was God. She felt like the filthiest yet purest heaven. He would drown in her any day. She owned him, body and soul, and he bowed down to the woman she was.
Lastly, he pressed a kiss over her heart. He felt the organ jump in excitement, an emotion only he could elicit.
“Like I said,” his breath fanned hot against her skin, “Beautiful.”
“Matthew,” her voice had shrunk over time.
“Have I told you that the sound of your voice is the most beautiful sound to me?” Matt didn’t even think about stopping. “I love listening to it. I love how it changes pitch or volume according to how you feel,” he said. “Like it did just now. It sounds like the sweetest of honey, but not the overwhelming kind. You’re the sweetest, most exquisite honey. The one that runs straight from the spoon into your tea and it makes you feel all warm inside.”
The hand she fell in love with wrapped around her neck like a vice. The gasp got caught in her throat, sending shivers down her spine. Her nipples reacted instantly to his touch, even though he was far away from stimulating them. Only his voice reverberated in her ears and it sang a symphony of the highest order.
His nose brushed against where his hand was wrapped around her throat and he inhaled sharply. “Your scent is the most distinctive, so I always know when you’re in the room,” said Matt, and Eliza shut her eyes at his wandering nose. It stopped behind her ear, taking another long whiff and it sounded almost as if he swallowed a moan. “Right now, you smell like my body wash and laundry detergent, but you also smell slightly salty, like rain. There’s some vanilla stuck to your skin from your perfume, and maybe it’s cinnamon, I’m not sure. You have this distinctive smell about you that instantly makes me turn my head your way because no one else smells like that. You’ve got me so high off of you, it sometimes feels like you’re a witch. Because every time you are near, I feel compelled to be with you, to kiss you, or to touch you in any way. It might be weird,” he said, “but I don’t care. You’re beautiful, inside and out, and I want to be with you every second of the day if necessary to feel you in the most intimate of ways. I know we can’t, it’s not how life works, but if I could, I would. I would die between your legs just to smell your pussy, I don’t care. I just want you.”
He drew the first lewd moan out of her. Her back arched, wanting to be touched so desperately she had never wanted it more. Her skin felt as if it was on fire and she hadn’t realized it before but the sweat started pooling out of her pores and her cunt ached for his attention. What started as a gentle display of love shot straight to her core and one look at his blissed-out expression told her he was doing it on purpose. He got off on it, that bastard. He purposely drove her up the walls in a way that was beautiful in itself. He was the beautiful one, surely, not her.
His blunt confession made her clench her thighs, but his body between them forced them open.
At the scent of her arousal in the air, Matt restrained himself from moaning the way he wanted to. He would have taken her right then and there, but his mission was not yet complete.
“The way you taste, now that is something… I can’t even describe it. I mean, my senses are more often than not overwhelmed beyond compare and I can taste how certain things smell, like tears for example, or sweat. It’s all very unique in my head,” he stated. “I experience the world differently with my senses, but you already knew that. When I feel you, when I hear or smell you, it’s different. It’s intense. You’re everywhere and while that may sound overwhelming to a man like me, with you it’s not. You’re not intense, only the experience is, and you calm me more than you keep me on edge. You’re not loud or dirty like New York is. You’re not an attack on my senses, it’s… I find you beautiful because you’re everything but overwhelming to me. You’re the beauty I lack in what I have to hear, smell, taste, and feel every goddamn day. So when I taste the sweat on your skin-” he licked a long stripe along her throat, “or when you’ve baked something that smells good and I can taste the remains on you, it’s an escape for me. And when I go down on you?” he said. “Now that is something that could keep me going for years because your taste gets me high. Your taste lingers, it makes me want you more every time I do it, and I could never tire of eating you out. Between your legs is where I want to be because even then, the world turns quiet and it’s just you and me and your pleasure that is on my mind. It’s what’s important. Everything else - the world, the city, they don’t matter. It’s just you that I need.”
He didn’t even get a second to breathe. Her lips were on him without hesitancy, locking her leg around his hip and pulling his entire body into hers. Her kisses were bruising, biting on his bottom lip and assaulting his tongue with her own.
“Get me out of these clothes, Matthew,” she demanded, lifting her hips.
He pulled at her shorts and underwear until they came off. Left in his boxers, Matt ground against her core. It was only the silk of his underwear that kept them apart.
“Do you believe me now that you’re beautiful?” he whispered into her ear.
The kiss was forgotten for a second as she stared into his beautiful brown eyes. “I know one thing that is more beautiful,” she replied.
“And what is that?”
“You.”
His name was nothing but a breath when he removed the last piece of clothing in the way and skilfully thrust his hard cock into her tight cunt. She was wet and warm and he added that to the list of things he found beautiful about her. He molded into her and they became one. They were connected with every nerve ending. With every kiss, they grew closer together. With every thrust of his hips, their connection grew stronger.
He panted into her ear. “You feel so fucking good, Angel. So beautiful,” he said. “And you’re all mine.”
“Yours,” she breathed back.
Their lips connected again, dancing heated against each other.
“Matthew.”
He pressed his forehead against hers.
“I love you,” she said.
His breath shuddered and he moaned in the back of his throat, cradling her head tighter so he could have full control, and she let him. “Fuck,” was all that came out as he picked up his thrusts, hitting that spot inside of her perfectly. Every nerve was already so sensitive, she clenched around him every time he drove home and he could feel every muscle mold around him as if she was only made for him.
It felt territorial almost, the pull he felt toward her and how he wanted everyone to know that she was his and no one else’s. No one else could have her. He was the only one who could make her feel this way and he was adamant about proving it every time they so much as sensually touched each other. He owned her, but she was also her own person and the claim he felt over her came from a place in his heart that was more of the Devil than Matt Murdock, but at that moment, with his cock so deep inside of her and his lips sucking marks into her skin, neither of them cared. She would be purple and blue once they were done, and she would carry those marks with pride because she loved being claimed by him. She loved being his and she would continue doing so until death would tear them apart.
When he had started rubbing her clit, she wasn’t sure, but the wave of the orgasm was close to overtaking her. He twitched and she knew he felt the same, but there was something about both of them holding back that made the experience even more magical. Neither of them wanted the moment to end so they both walked the tightrope, holding onto each other with the purpose of not stumbling and falling into the deep end.
“I love you too,” Matt managed to choke out. “God-” he pulled at her hair, capturing her lips in a bruising kiss that made the burning in her belly so much worse. “I love you so much.”
She whimpered into the kiss. “I know.”
“You close?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You wanna cum with me? Can you do that? Fuck- please. Be a good girl for me.”
With their lips pressed tightly against each other, the wave crashed into the shore. It was strong, it was burning, it mutated into an inferno that took down everything with it, and they so loved to burn alive.
His hips stilled eventually. He gave her all he had and it still felt not enough. She breathed heavily, her body slacking into his arms and he collapsed on top of her. He was exhausted and she was, too, but in the best way. She cradled his head into the crook of her neck; it was her turn to take care of him. His soft pants waved over her sensitive skin, the sweat in his hair transferring onto her body.
“Oh, my-” she exhaled. Her chest deflated with a heavy sigh. “Matty.”
He made an incoherent sound.
“Are you okay?”
After a moment of contemplation, he nodded. She stroked a hand through his hair, relieved to have received at least some sort of an answer. His breathing slowed down after a moment and so did his heartbeat that was drumming against hers.
Matt lifted himself on his forearm enough to pull out and dropped on the mattress next to her.
Eliza instantly moved to lay on her side, reaching out for his face. His eyes were closed. He still wasn’t present, his thoughts a mess, and his body on fire with all the different sensations and feelings that seemed to attack his soul. He tried not to show how sex affected him often, but even he had his weakest moments, and she loved him even more for showing them to her. He didn’t have to be afraid of her reaction, he could just be himself, and if he was overstimulated and tired after fucking her in a way that had been both loving and intense, she would make sure he got out of his trance just fine.
He licked his dry lips. “Do you, uh, need a towel?” even his voice sounded disoriented.
She chuckled lightly, stroking his sweaty hair back so it wouldn’t fall into his face anymore. “Don’t worry about me,” she said. “I’ll get us cleaned up. You just lay back and breathe.”
“Thank you,” he said.
Leaning down to kiss him, he placed a firm hand against her sternum. His eyebrows furrowed and he winced. “No kisses.”
“Okay,” she moved away instantly, giving him the space he needed, “I’m sorry.”
“‘S too much. Not your fault.”
“I know, baby. I’ll be right back.”
The space allowed him a few minutes to get his thoughts back in order. He focused on the silk sheets and the air that smelled like her. He listened to her heartbeat in the other room and then some more when she came and cleaned up the cum that covered his lower half as well as it had hers. She did it so carefully, he barely felt it. All the while her hand stayed wrapped around his wrist, drawing soothing circles on the skin.
She settled into bed next to him again, pulling the covers over their naked bodies. Trying not to touch him, she scooted close enough for him to feel her comfort.
Matt exhaled. “That was-“ he trailed off, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Intense.”
She said it at the same time as him, nodding along. “Yeah, it was. But it was good, right? You liked it too?”
It had to have been by far the gentlest sex they had ever had, and with all the feelings he stirred up before it had made the experience intense on a level neither of them was used to. So this was what making love felt like. It wasn’t raw fucking, it wasn’t rough, it was gentle throughout and focused solely on feeling each other.
His Adam’s Apple bopped as he swallowed. “Yeah, I did,” he wasn’t a man of many words when he was overwhelmed. She knew it was the truth though. He would have told her if it wasn’t. “Did you?” he asked then.
She blinked wildly, surprised that the question came when it was his moment of vulnerability and not hers. He was ever a selfless person, even when he wasn’t fully himself.
“I did,” she said.
“Good, that’s good.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, bug.”
“Is it okay if I touch you now?”
He opened his arm. “C’mere.”
She placed her head on his chest. His skin was hot and still flushed from the orgasm, as was his face. She had never seen a more beautiful sight. Tracing her fingers over his scars, Matt finally returned to himself fully and he hugged her to his bare chest.
“Thank you,” he murmured, “for everything.”
“Don’t have to thank me,” she told him. “I’m always going to take care of you.”
“That’s what makes you so good.”
“I don’t know about good, but-“ Eliza searched for his lips, “I’m better with you.”
He melted into the kiss. It was peaceful. With the birds in the background and the sun on the rise, the world was okay, and time was merely a construct.
That was until the obnoxious declaration of Foggy’s name caused by his phone broke the silence and their kiss in two.
Matt reached over with a scowl, but he missed the device and accidentally caused it to soar to the floor. He tried to stop it, but his reflexes weren’t quite awake yet. He grunted at the thought of having to get up to shut it off, and letting it ring hurt his ears too much. He leaned over, but Eliza had already thrown herself over his chest and fished his phone off the floor. She swiped right, answering, “Yeah?”
“Good morn- Liz?” Foggy sounded from the other end.
“Yeah.”
“This is Matt’s phone.”
“Yeah, I know. He dropped it.”
“You- okay, I still have to get used to you two living together.” Cars rushed in the background and she could hear the clear honking of a driver that seemed unsatisfied with someone who cut him off. “Anyway, I just called to tell you guys to get the fuck up!”
“What time is it?” She squinted her eyes at the alarm clock.
“Half past get the hell up! We have work today. You know the thing where you have to come into the office and do something productive the entire day?”
Eliza rolled her eyes. “I know what work is,” she retorted.
“Oh, yeah? Then why are you late?”
“Oh, my God! Foggy, we had sex, that’s why we’re late. Matt and I did a very adult activity that took a lot longer than expected and that is why we will be coming in a few minutes late today. Unless you want us to come strutting in naked and sweaty, you let us take a shower and we’ll see you at the office. Good day!”
She hung up, leaving Foggy flabbergasted and quite frankly a little disgusted, but he brushed it off as he made his way down the street with two cups of coffee in his hand — one for Karen, one for him.
Matt raised his eyebrows, brown eyes filled with pure amusement when she slapped his phone back down on the nightstand and resumed her position on his chest.
“What?” Eliza challenged.
“Can I get you bragging about our sex life on tape?” he said. “Because that was hilarious.”
“Oh, shut up!” She rolled over with a groan.
“A very adult activity.”
“Matthew, shut up!”
“I need that on a sign that I can put on the door whenever we have sex. I had one of those Do Not Disturb signs in college, but that sounds way better. Adult activities in progress. We should get that framed.”
In response, he received a pillow to the face. His laugh grew louder and she hit him again, this time with more force.
“You are a violent little thing,” he mused. “If that’s what you want-“ reaching behind himself, Matt grabbed his pillow and smacked her across the face with it, “You got it.”
She gasped. She underestimated the force he could put even behind a soft piece of fabric.
Eliza licked her lip, fluffing out the pillow she was holding. On her knees, she flipped to look directly at him. “It is so on,” she said.
He slipped into his underwear, something she had done while she grabbed a towel for them, so their state of clothing was almost equal. She wore one of his thin sleep shirts, but it gave her enough space to move without losing a boob or two.
Her eyes grew darker and her bicep tensed. She took this seriously. Matt was not about to pass out on an opportunity to humble her.
When it came to pillow fights, he would always win.
“Careful,” he said, and his words were what truly started the game of cat and mouse that sent them chasing each other around the apartment, “you might hurt yourself reaching for me.”
She growled, “The only thing that’s gonna get hurt is you.”
He laughed when he jumped out of bed and to the foot of it, holding his pillow like a wall of defense.
“It’s like a puppy threatening me with his leash.”
A pause. She stared at him, eyes narrowing, and then, “Run.”
Matt’s first instinct was to jog into the living room. She followed close behind with her pillow at the ready. They stood at either end of the couch, and even though they were well-trained, they panted from the short distance traveled.
“To hit me, you have to actually go around the couch,” he said.
She ground her teeth. “Not necessarily.” She hauled her arm back and then forward, and let go of the pillow. It hit with precision, landing in his face. He tried to catch it, but it flew too fast, even for him.
He played with it. The smirk he gave Eliza was shit-eating and laced with mischief. “You know that that was a mistake, right?”
She had already grabbed one of the cushions by then, cocking her eyebrow at him. “Wanna bet?” she said.
He chuckled. He was the first to take a step and she followed in the opposite direction. The couch was still between them, but it was only the backrest now. Her eyes sparkled. This was her shot. He didn’t see it coming, metaphorically speaking. She easily jumped over the backrest, catching herself on the seat, and hit him over the head with the couch cushion again.
Out of reflex, Matt responded with his pillows, hitting her back. She squealed. Her weapon of choice was much harder; he eventually fled her notorious attack. Eliza jumped from the sofa, with her hair disheveled and the shirt bunched up over her ass. In her state of playful rage, she tossed all of the cushions toward him. She hit him in at least three different places - not even the pillows he stole from the bed could protect him. In the end, though, she was left with nothing and he had all of the pillows, and she only realized that too late.
He sighed. “Sweetheart, I hate to break it to you, but you’re fucked,” the words flowed so flawlessly, she wondered if she was talking to the same person who spoke so eloquently in the courtroom. Of course, she knew better. She knew he had a dirty mouth deep down, but it had never shown this extreme. Perhaps she was rubbing off on him in more ways than one.
“Uh-oh,” she gasped when he charged at her. Eliza ran circles around the couch with him hot on her heels, and once again they stood on opposite ends. She calculated - there were two ways he could run. If she pretended well enough, she could trick his senses into thinking she went the other way, and then she would be able to rearm herself in the bedroom.
Matt being Matt though - or in this case, it was the Daredevil in him - saw right through her plan. She tried to fool him by leaning right, but he caught her before she could run. Halfway on her way to the bedroom, the pillow hit her and she squealed again. After hitting her a few good times to the point she was suffocating with laughter, he threw the pillow aside and wrapped his arms around her to keep her from leaving.
“Gotcha,” he purred into her ear.
“That is so not fair!” She cried out when his fingers dug into her sides, searching for the spot he knew she was most ticklish at. “Matt-y, st-oh-p!”
“If you yield.”
The smart comeback that laid on her tongue was cut off by a fit of laughter that came from a spot of discomfort. He knew exactly where to grab and it seemed unfair that he was so much larger, he could overpower her, and pulling out her super-strength didn’t seem fair. She couldn’t have, anyway, because the way he tickled her clouded her eyes with unshed tears.
“C’mon, yield,” he said, “and then I’ll stop.”
“Okay, OKAY!” Eliza hit his arm three times, giggling, and she couldn’t possibly form a coherent sentence. “Yield!”
As promised, he eased up his torture. She slacked in his arms.
“Wasn’t so hard, now was it?”
“Asshole,” she bit back.
He raised his eyebrows. “Oh, I am? Alright.”
“Matthew!” He singlehandedly tossed her over his shoulder. His hand collided with her backside. She was putty in his hands. He could throw her around however he wanted, she would let him.
She had never laughed this much or loud before. He carried her over to the now cushionless couch and laid her down. His lips found hers, not giving her a second to breathe. She kissed back almost instantly, tangling her hands in his hair and pulling him closer. They were panting and giggling into each other’s mouths and it was perfect. There was no other adjective to describe the situation, and she felt so happy and warm inside, she felt as if she were going to combust any second now.
Breaking the kiss, Matt smiled down at her. “You forgive me now?” he asked.
Eliza traced the crease between his eyebrows and down the bridge of his nose. “I suppose,” she said, her voice only a soft hum.
He bent down and pressed another kiss to her lips. It was short yet no less passionate. “We should get ready.”
“We should, but do we want to?”
“We don’t, but we have to.”
She sighed heavily, “True.”
“C’mon,” he patted her thigh, urging her to wrap them around his waist, “Let’s take a shower first. We’re already late, might as well make it worthwhile…”
The shower ran shorter than either of them would have liked, but they were already late and as two responsible adults they didn’t want to waste any more time. Although Matt considered it, Eliza had to physically force him away from prepping her neck with bruising kisses that were sure to have her on her knees in seconds. She exercised what little self-control she had left to steer off the inevitable. There was nothing she loved more than intimacy, but Foggy would murder them and she had already almost died too many times to count.
She exited the bathroom, fiddling with her earrings - the new beginning gave her a boost when it came to looking dashing anywhere she went, and she started to appreciate herself a lot more since then. The necklace matt got her dangled over her shirt, Natasha’s crystal underneath. It was in no way a display of favorites; Matt was the closest person to her heart and she wanted people to know that she was his and he was hers. In return, he wore his necklace just as obviously, though the crucifix would always be there. Even through all the pain, he kept his faith and she found that remarkable.
He stood in the kitchen, pouring some coffee into to-go cups that she had insisted that they should get. It was a wise choice. Upon hearing her enter, he smiled and shoved a plate over the counter. “Eat,” he said.
Eliza frowned, walking up to him. Avocado toast. Her heart swelled. At the rate, the happiness was growing she would need a new heart very soon. She couldn’t take this. It was sickeningly too much, but she loved every second of it. She loved being loved, seen, and appreciated. She loved the care she received and how important she felt in his presence. She would show him the same kind of affection until her very last breath, or she would try to, anyway. She still believed she didn’t deserve him.
She sat down at the edge of the table. He somehow always knew just the right amount of seasoning to use. She watched him while she ate. He cleaned up what he had made messy, put the little glass jars in the same spot he got them from, and wiped the kitchen counter. It was domestic, their new life together. She could get used to this.
“You’re staring,” Matt mused from the fridge. He pulled out a water bottle, then patted the top of the fridge for the orange capsule that was as much of a friend as it was an enemy. “Here, before you forget,” he said.
Eliza felt the three pills in the palm of her hand. He took care of her, he always did, but staring at the medication that kept the hormones in her brain in check reminded her why it took so long for her to be happy. She sabotaged herself. She was sick, after all. And she would always be sick, no matter what she did. The illness would always be there. Even with her life in order, the monster would continue lurking in the dark, waiting for a moment of weakness until it could attack.
He stroked over the crown of her head. “You okay?” he asked.
She looked into his eyes. “I’m okay,” she said.
“Take your pills, c’mon. They don’t mean anything. You’re here and you’re alive, nothing else matters. Everything that comes our way now, we can conquer together. You know that.”
The pills went down with a lot of water, but she took them and he kissed her forehead with a proud smile and said, “Good girl.”
She shivered, but she kept quiet, too trapped in her head to focus on what was happening around her.
Matt noticed the signs of dissociation and tugged at her hand instead. She yelped, blinking up at him in surprise. He pulled her toward him. “Stop thinking so much. Alexa-” the smart device made a melodic sound of agreement, “Play my Spotify playlist.”
“What’s that? Jazz or somethin’- woah!” Her joke was cut short. He twirled her around her axis before hugging his arm around her waist, and he cupped her cheek to lean down and kiss her.
“Wait for it,” he hummed against her lips.
The sound of the birds and the people outside was tuned out by the soft melody coming out of the speaker system.
“We’re gonna dance to keep your mind off of things and then we’re going to work, but only once I’m sure you’re okay.”
Eliza pouted as she looked into the eyes of the man she loved. Tears sparkled in her own and she wasn’t even sure why. She was overwhelmed by his love, mostly, but also by the emotions that she kept bottled up inside, the ones that appeared suddenly and nestled into her soul in seconds. He was right, she wasn’t okay. She wasn’t terrible, either, she was in a weird space in-between good and downright awful and she hated it there.
“How is dancing gonna help?” she asked, her voice wavering at the same time her breath did.
He kissed the tip of her nose instead of her lips. “Trust me,” said Matt.
She trusted him with her life, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to trust him on this. She didn’t feel like dancing. It seemed useless, anyway. But he insisted and with his hold so strong, she had no choice but to succumb to his unorthodox method.
“Sometimes you just gotta-” he pushed her back, “dance it out.”
She twirled, not even in control of her limbs when he pulled her back in, but this time with her back to his chest. And that was when she recognized the melody.
“Oh, you sly bastard.”
“Uh-huh.” The glitter in his eyes reminded her of the universe. “You remember?” He ran his fingers over her bare arm when she reached back to run her fingers through his hair and bring him closer in the process. “The night of the gala when we danced?” he said. “You remember the song?”
“Of course, I do,” she said. “I love that song. I just didn’t think… you put it on the top of your playlist?”
He shrugged. “Maybe?”
In seconds, she turned around and stood face-to-face with him again. She wrapped her arms around his neck, lifting herself on her tip-toes to kiss him. Their forehead collided. “We’re not dancing,” she reminded him.
“Aren’t we?”
“No, we’re swaying. It’s just an excuse for people to-”
“-stand on the dancefloor and look like they belong,” he finished. His breath turned into a chuckle that fanned across her face. He smelled of coffee and mint and his cologne. “Yeah, I memorized that line in case I had to use it again,” he told her.
“Oh, you taking pointers from me now?”
“Don’t tell anyone.”
“Well, lucky for you that we’re not standing on a dancefloor, so the rule doesn’t apply.”
“You’re right, but we could pretend.”
At that moment it seemed as if he was staring into the depths of her soul.
A sigh left the depth of her chest. “We have to work,” she said, hesitant to admit it and with the utmost regret in her voice.
Matt chuckled. The usually so sweet sound was breathless, maybe a little knowing because yes, they had to go to work and her point was valid, but he didn’t want to acknowledge it. The more she kept staring into his eyes, the more her self-control swindled and she fell into his arms. She didn’t care about the world. She was his to command now. Screw self-contro, she thought. She could spend the remaining two minutes of this song dancing with the love of her life, the Man whose initial she had hanging around her throat, and it would feel good because they deserved it. After the hell they went through, they deserved this. They deserved a fucking break.
He listened closely to her heartbeat. It dropped suddenly in determination and that was how he knew that she made her decision. His lip curled up into a smirk, it wasn’t naughty or anywhere near suggestive, it wa a kind one suggesting that he was proud of his accomplishment, so it was cocky nonetheless.
Eliza took his hand in hers, holding it tightly as the other arm wrapped around his shoulders instead. “Lead the way, counsellor,” she said.
The song was so familiar yet at the same time it sounded foreign. The day they first danced to it laid far in the past. Things had been different then. The night ended blissfully tangled between the sheets of his bed, but the cost they paid for falling so fast so hard for each other left them shattered in the end. They spent weeks picking up the pieces that were left behind of each other’s hearts. In the end, they found together. The universe brought them together without question as if it knew they were meant to be together, and it felt right at that moment, dancing with Matt in his living room while the world disappeared on the outside, but the path they had to take to get this far was now littered with corpses.
They both lost. They both suffered. In any other life, the likelihood of Matt and Eliza finding together after the hell they’d been through would have been nill. But in that universe, in their reality, they found back together. What they had was a cursed love that they were slowly starting to heal, and while she laid in his arms as he swayed them around the room to the song she had grown to title as one of their own, she realized that this was it. They passed the finish line. The worst was over. They weren’t cursed anymore; this right there was her and him healing each other in the only way they knew how - through unspoken words and meaningful touches. Their hearts spoke a language their mouths could not.
She was sure she found the man she would spend the rest of her life with and knowing he felt something resembling the same after he gave her that necklace was the thought that kept her alive and breathing. He sustained her, after all, and he had started doing so from the day they first met. It all became frighteningly clear to her, but the fear didn’t scare her. No, it excited her and it reminded her that this was real. She wasn’t dreaming. He was truly in her life and she was going to be okay; they both were.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked.
What was she thinking about? She was fighting off the cruel thoughts all by herself. She didn’t feel weak, she felt stronger than ever as she did it.
“You,” she answered without missing a beat. “It’s always you.”
His feet stopped and so did she, stumbling a little at his abrupt change of pace. Through thick lashes, she looked up at him. She expected him to say something or at least to receive a reaction of some kind, but it didn’t come. Instead, his eyes darted aimless around and his eyebrows furrowed. He was listening to her heart, the soft tilt of his head told her as much. He saw the world through his senses, she sometimes forgot that, and he was trying to paint a picture - what the picture was, she wasn’t sure.
“Matt-”
He cradled her head faster than she could speak. His lips pressed against her in a heated affair. She caught herself by holding onto his forearms. The kiss wasn’t forced, not at all, it was merely deeper than she was used to, and she swore she could taste the emotion on his tongue. That part of her powers was gone, but he poured so much of himself into the kiss, she could taste his soul.
He pulled away to let them both breathe. Their lips ghosted over each other, heartbeats aligned. Same situation, different setting.
“We should, um-” Eliza swallowed. She felt lightheaded. His body was the only thing keeping her upright. “Work,” she prompted.
A strand of hair flopped into his face. It was so damn familiar yet still so foreign. He was officially hers now, she didn’t have to pine and wait anymore. He wasn’t going anywhere.
That was the essential difference to that day at the gala. They were together now. The wait and heartbreak were over. There was nothing standing between them now, and that was why such a familiar situation felt more foreign than it felt like a real de ja vu.
Matt desperately kissed her cheek. “Work,” he agreed, though his voice rumbled like gravel. He didn’t want to work, he just wanted her.
His need for her, the constant yearning, he believed were starting to turn into an unhealthy obsession. But if it was so unhealthy, why did he feel happier than ever?
He turned away, ready to grab a tie from the bedroom and get the day over with, but once he took a step away, she reached for his arm. She pulled him back, smashing their lips together once more.
“Can we be late five more minutes?” she asked, assaulting his mouth with open kisses.
Her hair seemed like the best thing to grab in her moment of eagerness, so he tangled his hand in the freshly brushed strands, pulling at them. He panted heavily, the answer coming more choked up than he intended it to, “Yeah, sure,” he said.
The buckle of his belt hit the floor. Eliza dragged the zipper down, ruining his ironed shirt by crumbling it up until it was resting just above his hip.
“Good, ‘cause we’re gonna need them. Or you are, anyway.”
“Five minutes?” He breathed even heavier now, the sound of her knees hitting the wooden floor sounding louder in his eardrum. His hand was still in her hair and he followed her down; it slowly dawned on him what she was doing. The plea for her to stop got stuck in his throat. “Fuck!”
At first, she simply kissed the outline of his cock over his boxers and the friction along with the pure essence of her rushed the blood from his head where her tongue laid, and he was painfully hard again. As if he hadn’t just finished inside of her, she undressed him with precision. Her nails dug into his upper thighs and by God, he was this close to losing himself completely, he intertwined his fingers with hers s they traveled under his shirt and caressed his stomach. It was too much. She was already everywhere, the heat of her mouth would send him straight to hell and back and then to hell again until he was doomed and done for.
His eyes rolled back toward the ceiling. In his head, he prayed to God. The crucifix rested heavy around his neck but her name rested heavier. He prayed to God because the almighty father of all was no longer the most important character in his life. He questioned faith, but he never questioned her. She was his vice, she was his guardian angel and she would eventually corrupt him in a way that would asure him a place in hell, no matter how many times he asked God for penance, but hell with her sounded much better than heaven, and he figured he would have never ended up there anyway. They were both sinners, all things would fall into their rightful places in the end. Where she went, he would follow. Unhealthy obsession be damned, he was so infatuated, he would have burned the world down on the spot for her.
He had loved strongly before, then he had his heart broken by the woman he loved so desperately, and he had suffered alone for so long before she came along. He never thought a love this strong would be humany possible, but there were a lot of things he hadn’t fathomed possibly only a month ago. A love like that was the most plausible because it was real, she was right there and she was realer than anything else. God put her in his path for a reason and he would follow her until the end of the line.
She drove him higher and higher until he was dangling off the edge of the cliff, and when she pressed her hand down on his abdomen, squeezing his hand in the process, he couldn’t hold it anymore.
“I love you so much. Fuck!” The curses tumbled freely from his lips at the same time that he tumbled from the precipice. Her tongue along his shaft and the sensitive tip of his cock were more than enough.
Her five-minute estimate had not been far off. He came with the soft cry of her name, or had it been one of his many pet-names? She wasn’t sure. Her mind was just as fuzzy as his. Swallowing every last drop of cum he had to give her, she kept him tucked neatly inside her mouth. He rested perfectly in her throat. She exhaled through her nose - the sight before her was so damn pleasurable, she clenched her thighs. This would suffice for the rest of the day. The pornographic sounds and pcitures she had in her head were better than any real life nude picture she could have taken of him.
Matt pulled at her hair, forcing her off his cock with a whine that both came from her and from himself. He brushed her cheek, catching the small droplet of cum on the corner of her mouth and shoving it back inside. She took it wordlessly. The mascara she had applied was smudged all over her cheeks from the tears she had shed, but it was so worth it in the end.
He helped her to her feet, his eyes once again darting back and forth, searching for something he couldn’t see. “You’re so perfect,” he murmured.
“You are,” she told him. When he kissed her, he could taste himself in her saliva, and his moan made her whimper. “You’re perfect,” she said again.
The move she made to adjust his pants and get the belt back where it came from went unnoticed by him. He was somewhere between the sky and cloud nine, free-falling. Only when she gently kissed his neck did he snap back to reality.
“We have to go work.”
He chuckled. “Foggy is gonna kill us.”
“Eh, but it was worth it.” Eliza smoothed out his collar. “Get yourself a tie, I’m gonna use the bathroom real quick to, uh… take care of some things.”
His lips pursed into a pout. “Take care of some things?” he quoted.
“I have to pee.”
“Sure, that’s what it is.”
She slapped his chest, blushing at the sound of his clear laugh in her ear as he kissed her temple and sent her on her way.
“I could just take care of it, y’know,” Matt said behind her.
As hard as it was to pass down the opportunity, she raised her middle finger into the air. “Fuck off!” The bathroom door fell shut behind her, but she heard his laughter long after she was gone.
Today is never too late to be brandnew.
That much was true, at least.
#matt murdock#matt murdock smut#matt murdock x oc#daredevil#foreigner's god#matt murdock x ofc#matt murdock fluff#matt murdock x female!oc#matt murdock fic#daredevil fic#foggy nelson#karen page#tony stark#matt murdock angst#marvel#daredevil smut#valentines day fic#i'll get the coffee by kathryn gallagher is so beautiful#inspired by a song#taylor swift references#of course
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♡ Hi! Welcome to my page! ♡
A little bit about me:
• Big, big fan of Lana Del Rey, fav artist since forever, love to talk about her and her work, open to have a discussion ♡
• A swiftie! Lovee taylor and about to go to the eras tour. Fav album evermore ♡.
• Mitski fan! Have a concert soon and i cant wait ♡.
• Movie freak. I adore romcom's.
• An even bigger music freak. Love every kind and genre. I love variety and Im still exploring as much as i can ♡.
• Sometimes I do art. Little paintings and handmade stuff ♡.
• Decorating, outfits, painting nails, and makeup! ♡
🎀Free to talk bout anything. (15, she/her)🎀
#get to know me#new page#lana del rey#taylor swift#music#vibes#aesthetic#art#writing#reading#priscilla presley#sofia coppola#vintage#girlblogging#girlblog
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First Page (PJM One-shot)
Based on the song Enchanted by Taylor Swift.
Pairing: Bar Owner Jimin x Food Critic Fem Reader
Genre: Fluff, Crack
Rating: G
Word Count: 2.3K
Warnings: None
Summary: Coming home to Busan after establishing your name in the international gastronomic scene for your ‘Taste of Home’ web series, you’re set to visit and research on the old and the new hole-in-the-wall spots worth checking out. Hitting up a steakhouse that you used to frequent with your college friends, you discovered that it has been replaced by a swanky and cool new bar, Filter. The owner? Meh. No filter… and you were well wonderstruck.
Taglist: @minntushiast @bear-hugs-and-kisses @ygbubs @taestefully-in-luv @persphonesorchid
From: [email protected]
Date: May 25, 2022 at 12:24:55 PM
Subject: FW: Travel Feature - YN YLN
Hi Yn,
Is this something that interests you? Is there any specific content you want to do?
Let me know what you think. I'll email them back and work on arranging a meeting.
Kind Regards,
Kim Seokjin
CTO, Alpaca Creative Artists Inc.
111 Dokseodang-ro, Yongsan-gu, Seoul, South Korea
+82-2-798-0050
Begin forwarded message:
From: Jung Hoseok
Date: May 25, 2022 at 12:10:15 PM
To: Kim Seokjin
CC: Kim Namjoon
Subject: Travel Feature - YN YLN
Hi Mr. Kim,
I'm writing on behalf of our CEO, Kim Namjoon. My name is Hoseok, a senior creative director at Rkive Media. We're currently working on a Travel Feature, particularly a 6-episode web series that would showcase the best places to eat in Korea.
We will be honored to have Yn Yln on board. We are open to any suggestions and to address whatever she may need should she agree on this project. Let us know if you are interested.
Best,
Jung Hoseok
Senior Creative Director
RKive Media
42 Hangang-daero, Yongsan-gu, Seoul, South Korea
+82-2-708-0218
That’s how you found yourself back in Busan, driven by your cousin Yoongi, in his wine-coloured Hyundai Palisade. You’re on the way to pick up his girlfriend Dani, your bestfriend Brittany, and her boyfriend Taehyung. You’re given a week to visit as many places as you can in Busan and narrow them down to just six, proving them worthy to be on your new web series, ‘Taste of Home.’
“I can’t believe you agreed to this, Yn,” Yoongi glanced at you from the rear-view mirror, shotgun spot reserved for Dani.
“Me neither. But you know Jin… he was pretty convincing,” you sighed. “I told him I’m not an influencer, I’m a food critic.”
Yoongi chuckled, revealing his gummy smile. “Let me guess… he told you the world deserves to see your beauty.” Your exaggerated eyeroll made Yoongi laugh even harder. “I’m telling you, he’s a goner for you.”
“Whatever, Yoongs.”
About thirty minutes later, you arrived at your first stop. It was a barbecue bistro where you find yourselves surrounded by almost everybody in your neighborhood. People you haven’t seen in ages. People who never spoke to you before but all of a sudden now cling to you as if you’ve known them all your life. You’re grateful that Taehyung and Brittany seem to have noticed your inner battles, while Yoongi and Dani were busy “shielding” you from the people by mingling with them instead.
There I was again tonight
Forcing laughter, faking smiles
Same old tired lonely place
“Hey, you okay?”
“This place hasn't changed at all, Brit, no?” you looked around and observed the place. The oakwood bar and the aged barrels lining the walls are still there, the faux cowhide booth upholstery, and the giant electric grill smacked in the middle.
“No, you’re right,” she chuckled. “Plus the amount of drunk people would make you think you’re in some Irish pub instead of a supposedly-family-friendly barbecue place.”
“I don’t think I would consider this to be part of my web series. Jin would faint.”
Yoongi’s ear perked up when he heard you. “Do you wanna go somewhere else?”
“Hey, remember that place we used to frequent back in college? The steakhouse?”
“Except it’s no longer a steakhouse…” Dani quipped.
“What!?”
“Yeah, it’s a club now. Not just a club CLUB… it’s swanky and cool.” Yoongi added. “The kind where the rich kids hang out.”
“Owner’s pretty young though. My age.” Taehyung mumbled while fiddling with his phone. “Texting Jungkook right now. He manages the place.”
“Whoa, Jungkook as in my little Kookie?” you cooed.
“Wait til you see him now and THEN call him your little Kookie again,” Brittany’s amusement caused Taehyung to guffaw.
“True though,” he winked at you. “They said they’re not that busy tonight. Didn’t tell him you’re with us. Pretty sure he’ll be ecstatic to see you again.”
“Shall we?” Yoongi stood up and patted his pocket for his keys and wallet.
Walls of insincerity,
Shifting eyes and vacancy
Vanished when I saw your face
All I can say is it was enchanting to meet you
“Noona!” Jungkook’s eyes lit up when he saw you trudging behind his friends. He rounded the bar in an instant and the next thing you knew, you were enveloped in a tight hug of someone who’s clearly taller than you and buffer than your average guy.
“Oh my goodness, look at you!” Your jaw almost dropped to the floor. “Where did you hide my little Kookie?!” Jungkook giggled, flashing you his bunny smile and scrunched up nose. Yep, there’s your little Kookie.
“You’re acting like you’re not just two years my senior! I’m not little anymore!”
“Jungkook, this place is nice!” Yoongi looked around impressed. “It’s the first time I set foot in here,” he casually wrapped his arm around Dani and leaned onto the bar.
“Oh that reminds me…” Jungkook excitedly rubbed his palms. “The owner’s here. I’m sure he would love to meet you, guys. Hang on, let me go get him…” with big strides, Jungkook has disappeared behind the black curtain by the bar.
You were busy skimming through the menu card handed to you by one of the bartenders that you didn’t realize Jungkook was already back, standing beside you.
“Noona, this is Jimin… Park Jimin, owner of Filter. Hyung-nim, this is YN YLN, she’s a food critic.”
Jungkook gestured between you and his boss in acknowledgment– and you thought the world around you momentarily stopped. Jimin is tall, albeit not Jungkook’s height. His smile is radiant, it makes his eyes disappear into crescents. He’s got high cheekbones that perfectly accentuated the shape of his face. His nose, small like a button, and his lips full and plump. His silver hair is parted in the middle and one side slightly swept back, revealing his forehead. He’s donning a metallic bomber jacket against a black top, a pair of black jeans, and a pair of black leather brogue boots.
Your eyes whispered, "Have we met?"
Across the room your silhouette
Starts to make its way to me
The playful conversation starts
Counter all your quick remarks
Like passing notes in secrecy
And it was enchanting to meet you
All I can say is I was enchanted to meet you
“Hey, Yn. Nice to meet you,” Jimin extended his hand for a handshake. Smile never fading, eyes still almost non-existent. You extended your hand timidly. “I’m pretty sure we have met before… have we?”
“I… I don’t think so. Maybe?”
“Huh… Right. You seem familiar though,” Jimin still has your hand in his.
“You have probably read my name in some blogs and–”
“I know who you are, Yn.” He shifted his weight on his other foot so that he’s leaning on the bar with his elbow facing you. He ran his fingers through his hair before looking back at you. He looked at you under hooded eyes, a smirk forming on his lips before he continued… “Are you here to criticize my food?”
“Is there something to criticize about?” you countered.
“Is it not worth your time?” Jimin’s smirk is gradually turning into a full teasing smile.
“Debatable,” you shrugged.
To your surprise, Jimin burst into his infectious laugh, throwing his head back and clapping his hands. “Please, make it worth your time!” He playfully pouted at you and you couldn’t help but laugh along.
“Hey, I really am just here to visit an old friend. I’ll–”
“Actually,” you were cut off by Yoongi who wrapped his arm around you. “Hi, I’m Yoongi, YN’s cousin. We’re here because YN is making a web series about the places you must visit or dine in when you’re in Busan.”
“Oh…” Jimin nodded, interest suddenly piqued.
“Are you free anytime this week for a feature and an interview?” He flashed his gummy smile. “She would be too shy to ask!”
“Yeah, I am! It’d be an honor,” his gentle eyes found yours again. “How’s tomorrow sound, Yn?”
You looked around your friends before your eyes landed back on Jimin. “Yeah… tomorrow would be perfect.”
“Great!” Jimin straightened up and reached out for another handshake. “Afternoon would be perfect since we will be closed. We will be able to talk more. 3 PM?”
“3 PM.” you nodded.
This night is sparkling, don't you let it go
I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home
I'll spend forever wondering if you knew
I was enchanted to meet you
The lingering question kept me up
2 AM, who do you love?
I wonder 'til I'm wide awake
And now I'm pacing back and forth
Wishing you were at my door
I'd open up and you would say, "Hey,
It was enchanting to meet you,
All I know is I was enchanted to meet you."
This night is sparkling, don't you let it go
I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home
I'll spend forever wondering if you knew
This night is flawless, don't you let it go
I'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone
I'll spend forever wondering if you knew
I was enchanted to meet you
This is me praying that
This was the very first page
Not where the story line ends
My thoughts will echo your name
Until I see you again
These are the words I held back
As I was leaving too soon
I was enchanted to meet you
You arrived at Filter 5 minutes shy of the agreed time, but Jimin was already waiting for you, shifting from one foot to another by one of the tables. You almost did not recognize him, dressed in a gray sweatshirt, jeans, black beanie and a pair of leather slip-ons. He smiled widely the moment he spotted you entering the place.
“Hi, Yn. Thank you for coming. Can I help you with that?” he gestured at your small bag containing your tablet and dictaphone for the interview. It wasn’t that heavy, but you handed it to him anyway. It feels nice to be fussed over for once. “Can I get you anything? Drinks?”
“I’m fine, Jimin,” you smiled up at him as he pulled a chair for you to sit on. “What are we trying today?”
“Of course, our best seller. The shrimp cocktail. I’d also love for you to taste some of our cocktails.”
“Are you trying to get me drunk so I can give you a biased review?” you squinted at him.
Jimin threw his head back in laughter and waved his hands, “No no no… goodness, no.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll have them prepare you the virgin mix.”
“I’d like that, thank you.”
You breezed through your taste test and interview with Jimin having done it a million times already, You were in your element and Jimin couldn’t help but admire you even more. He remembered the first time he met you. It was a few years ago, at a convention. You were one of the speakers and he was just an aspiring restaurateur exposing himself and trying to network with the right people. He remembered being awestruck by your beauty when you stepped into the hotel ballroom where the event was being held. He thought you were a celebrity or an upcoming pop idol at first, until you were introduced to the stage to speak. He was even more impressed with you when you spoke. Your knowledge and experience in the food industry iwas so unmatched, you became the youngest person to be part of the voting members of the prestigious AA Gill Awards. He was introduced to you by the guys of SortedFood, but it was so brief, he’s not even sure if you caught his name. Hence, he’s no longer surprised that you don’t remember him when you met him last night. But you? You never left his mind. Meeting you last night felt like the universe was telling him something– make a move.
“Jimin… wow.” You sighed contented. “This spread is so nice. I don’t have anything bad to point out, you know?”
“Thank you… I tried,” he smiled shyly. “I got a lot of help from Ben and Barry in setting this up, you know?” Jimin tried to catch your gaze. “You know them… right?”
“Wait…” your eyes widened in delight. “Ben Ebbrell and Barry Taylor?”
“Yes!”
“Oh my gosh!” your hand flew to your chest. “That’s amazing. How are they? It’s been a while since I last saw them. I think it was during Mike’s wedding!”
“Oh you were there too?”
“Yeah!”
“Wow… we have crossed paths a lot of times already!” Jimin grinned. “Sorry, um… can I ask you something personal? It’s okay if you don’t want to answer. I’m just– I’m, ugh, no nevermind.” He hesitated. “I’m just wondering… I’m–”
“Ask away, Jimin,” you smiled encouragingly.
Jimin wiped his palms against his jeans, bracing himself before speaking. “I’d really love to take you out for dinner tonight, and I’m just wondering if I'm not gonna get in trouble with a boyfriend or a husband…”
Contrary to what you thought, Jimin was looking at you directly, and not one second did his confidence falter. You felt your face heat up, aware that a deep blush is now cloring up your cheeks.
“So…?”
“Yeah sure, Jimin. I’d love to go out to dinner with you tonight.”
This time, Jimin won’t let another opportunity slip away.
Please don't be in love with someone else
Please don't have somebody waiting on you
Please don't be in love with someone else
Please don't have somebody waiting on you
••••••
A/N- I just couldn’t get the song out of my head and Jimin’s most enchanting smile just fits the bill. 🥹
#first page#jimin first page#jimin x reader#jimin au#jimin one shot#jimin fluff#bangtansmauyeondan#bts imagines#bts ff#bts fics#taylor swift#bangtanwhq#Spotify
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If Woolf makes an appearance you know Plath probably will too. Taylor may be keen to cast Joe in the Ted Hughes role and make people think he tormented her with affairs.
Frankly where is my Wuthering Heights track? Let's get schlocky lmao. Maybe he can be Dracula and his harem of vampire women sucked the life out of her (we'll let Olivia have vampires for right now). Oh - she hasn't mentioned Anna Karenina yet, right? Listen, I'm as dramatic as they come, we all throw on Keira Knightley dramas and feel all the things sometimes. I just take umbrage to engaging in it in shallow pastiche and attempting to pass that off as depth.
#i'll cop to having only read about 500 pages of anna karenina#sorry kids but when you move the plot to health spas and the countryside#the pace changes and i can't go on#middlemarch is 900 pages or so#but i thought it was well paced and had no trouble with it#anti taylor swift
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pov people who said that taylor was gonna announce reputation tonight getting ready for the day
#IF SHE DOES ANNOUNCE IT TONIGHT IGNORE THIS POST#taylor swift#fyp tumblr#relatable#i love taylor with all my heart#1989 taylor's version#swifties#explore page#i love you taylor#the eras tour#taylornation#clowncore#clown#clown girl#clownsona#clown art#repuatation tour#reputation stadium tour#rep tv#repuation#reputation#fyp#fypツ#fypシ#foryou#tumblr fyp#foryoupage#fypage#viral
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↓
#about my blog:#ive been on this hellsite for almost 10years#'front page' is my assorted aesthetics tag that filters posts for my destop theme#some of the random things i post about are:#taylor swift#hozier#pop punk/alt rock/2010s emo music#(url is from northern downpour by p!atd)#dallon weekes/idkhbtfm/the brobecks#maneskin#Peanuts/snoopy#gay shit#hunger games#american horror story specifically Michael Langdon bc i cant get over sexy antichrist#sense8#other media you might see sometimes:#the good place the office crazy ex gf adventure time looking hbo the last of us#barbie les mis mamma mia call me by your name jennifers body little women#SLIGHT disney adult tendencies#this is for my pinned post btw
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"Picture to Burn" The Elite/CM Punk version
CM: State the obvious, I didn't get my perfect fantasy You realized I love myself more than you could ever love me. So go and tell your friends that I'm obsessive and crazy that's fine, you won't mind if I say By the way
CM: I hate that stupid old pickup truck Hangman never let me drive You're a redneck heartbreak who's really bad at lying So watch me strike a match on all my wasted time As far as I'm concerned, you're just another picture to burn
Hangman Page: There's no time for tears I'm just sitting here planning my revenge There's nothing stopping me From going out with all of your best friends And if you come around saying sorry to me Matt and Nick is gonna show you how sorry you'll be
The Young Bucks: And if you're missing us, you'd better keep it to yourself 'Cause coming back around here would be bad for your health
CM: In case you haven't heard, I really, really hate that Stupid old pickup truck Hangman never let me drive You're a redneck heartbreak who's really bad at lying So watch me strike a match on all my wasted time As far as I'm concerned, you're just another picture to burn
Hangman Page: Burn, burn, burn, you sorry ass, burn Kenny Omega (puts his arm around Hanger: Just another contract to burn
Hangman,Kenny,Bucks all taking lighters to CM Punk's AEW contract: Hope you burn
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Y'all, I just found my name in a provisional merit list of one of the colleges I applied to.... This was kinda surprising bcoz NONE of the other colleges have released merit lists yet. Please pray for me & wish me luck with my college admission!!! 🤞🤞
#fyp#recommended#for you page#recommendation#for you#trending#taylor swift#tswift#ts#taylors version#studyblr#study blog#college#college life#college student#fingers crossed#please pray for me#please wish me luck#pray for me#wish me luck#i hope i get admitted to a good college 🤞🤞#🤞🤞#colleges#college admissions#admission#writeblogging#writeblr#text#.txt#swifties
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In My Gif Era - Journey to Fearless
↪ The Best Day
i don't know who i'm gonna talk to now at school
but i know i'm laughing on the car ride home with you
don't know how long it's gonna take to feel okay
but i know i had the best day with you today
#imge#jtf#taylor swift#andrea swift#journey to fearless#the best day#i did feel a little weird using like home footge#but all of it was in the documentary itself#and i found the picture on the first page of google search results so#i assume it's okay#look what i made
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favourite 2024 albums → THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT: THE ANTHOLOGY by Taylor Swift
"An anthology of new works that reflect events, opinions and sentiments from a fleeting and fatalistic moment in time - one that was both sensational and sorrowful in equal measure. This period of the author’s life is now over, the chapter closed and boarded up. There is nothing to avenge, no scores to settle once wounds have healed. And upon further reflection, a good number of them turned out to be self-inflicted. This writer is of the firm belief that our tears become holy in the form of ink on a page. Once we have spoken our saddest story, we can be free of it."
#taylor swift#tswiftedit#taylorswiftedit#the tortured poets department#ttpd#creations*#2024albums#this took forever. 31 tracks is NOT helpful for a gifset taylor!!!!
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