Ripe

(Ear)ring - B.H.

a/n: not a request this time, whew, but I hope everyone likes this all the same! I actually really liked writing this one and do not immediately hate it lmao, this idea just came to me a few nights ago lmao

length: 2.5k

warnings: none? fluff? ig ooc billy but like is it really ooc if this how i write him lmao

pairing: Billy Hargrove x reader

summary: you want something to wear that's billy's, but all of his rings are too big for you, so there's always something else.

If it were anyone else in his room, looking through his things and touching them, Billy might've snapped. He might've been a bit more cagey, paid a bit more attention. But it was you, and as far as he was concerned there wasn't a thing in his room he needed to hide from you. The worst thing you'd find was a stupid magazine, but he already had a porn star poster on his wall. Had since long before the two of you started dating. At this point, it filled empty space on his walls.

Besides, you were part of him at this point. Billy had no qualms with you being in his space, touching his things. You knew what he didn't like you doing and vice versa at this point.

So, while you look through his tapes, he lays on his bed leaning against the backboard, a book opened in one hand while the other rests behind his head. His stereo playing one of the tapes he had made in collaboration with you. The music taste between the two of you had been on two sides of a spectrum but sharing them with one another was the only time Billy enjoyed your music taste. If anyone else tried to make him listen to it, he'd hate it.

When the final song finished, you pulled the tape out and put another one inside, this time the music was definitely a mix he had made only for himself, yet you still smiled while it played.

Seemingly bored of your rummaging through his various tapes of music, you pulled yourself off the floor, making an exaggerated sound like you were an older person getting out of bed. You had a little hop to your step when you stood straight and made a beeline for his dresser, covered in various trinkets.

"The fuck was that?" Billy questions the noise you made, looking away from the book Hard Times and looking to you, "sounded like an old ass man."

You shrug, "just practicing for when I'm an old lady."

"Keep practicing," he rolls his eyes and turns back to his book.

He doesn't see it, but he knows you're sticking your tongue out at him like a child.

On his dresser are a variety of things. A shirt he haphazardly threw on top rather than putting it away or in the laundry bin, a few different hair products that he liked to use, chapstick that you left at his house so if you forgot your other one you could use this one when you were there (he also used it too now), a few tapes he hadn't put away, a random book, and a little dish with different rings inside.

The dish was what beckoned your attention as you began to look through it.

Billy had a lot of rings. All of them were rather thick, made of silver or something else of the same colour. Some had designs on them, but most were rather plain to look at. He didn't wear them all at once, but somedays he'd wear a few on his hands. Sometimes he'd switch one out for another. But the one ring he never took off was one that had belonged to his mother. It was on his hand always.

Plucking a simpler ring from the dish, one that also looked a bit smaller than the others, you put it on your index finger. Too big. You tried your ring finger. Nope, way too big. Your thumb. Still no. It felt weird, definitely not meant for that finger.

Going through a few more, it gave you the same results. Rings too big for your smaller hands; it truly put into perspective just how much bigger Billy was than you in almost every aspect there was. Taller than you, buffer than you, bigger hands, feet.

You sighed dramatically, "you have huge hands you know?"

Billy looks up from his book again, this time looking at you almost as if you'd grown another head. To others, he likely would have come across as annoyed, but you knew how to read his face better than others.

And suddenly it's turning from mild confusion to a smirk on his lips, a glint in his eyes. You'd given him a perfect opening you realize, preparing yourself for whatever his brain had prepared for you.

"There are a lot of things about me that are big sweetheart," he almost purrs when he speaks. He sounds confident, snarky, and amused. If you weren't across the room you'd have playfully hit his shoulder gently.

But as it was, the best you could give him was a pointed look and a few words.

"Sure," you respond with an eye roll, "sometimes you are so..."

You look for a word that expresses itself properly but find yourself coming up empty; Billy however is quick on the draw- he always is.

"Sexy, the best fuck-" He offers words without much thought, only looking into your eyes- blue ones piercing through you as he smirks. He knows what he's doing. He always does.

"Annoying," you quickly cut off his words, huffing as your ears heat up, "I was thinking of the word annoying."

"That's not what you said the other night in your room."

"Oh my God, Billy."

"Yeah, that's more like what you were saying."

This time you don't even bother to offer him a response, too flustered to even try. You know it will be thrown back at you as you inevitably give him more ammunition to tease.

Instead, you puff your cheeks out akin to a child and turn your back to him once more busying yourself with the dish of rings in front of you on the dresser. Picking some of them up and looking at them in your hands but not really noticing them anymore.

Billy watches you fully now, dog-earing the page of his book he's stopped on instead of using a bookmark (he'd lose that shit so fast, and really, this is much faster and easier to do) and throws his book to the side on his bed. Stretching his muscles out a bit, he moves to stand to his full height, putting his arms up to stretch and then letting them fall.

Either you're ignoring him and what he's doing, or you're really enraptured with the rings in the dish. Billy is fairly sure it's the former.

It doesn't stop him from slithering his way up behind you and resting his heavy hands on your waist, digging his fingers into your sides roughly, but not enough to actually hurt you.

It elicits a small noise from your lips, one that emboldens the dirty blonde behind you as he pulls his body fully against your back, capturing you in his firm grasp.

His head dips to rest his chin on your shoulder and so he can peer into your face and gauge your emotions. Get your attention. But you're stubborn, and even though he can physically feel the way your body melts a smidge into his own, enjoying his presence and touch.

Your body always gave you away.

Your eyes stayed trained on the ring in your hand however and Billy watched the way you played with it.

"You want one?" He asks you, waiting. If he could pull you closer into his body he would.

You don't answer, trying your hardest to keep up the act of silence against him for teasing you. You aren't that mad in reality, it's just the principle of the thing you started.

And part of you enjoys the moves he makes to coax you to speak.

"You can take one," he continues, taking the ring out of your hand behind you and taking one of your smaller hands into his, slipping the ring onto one of your fingers where it sits loosely, not fitting whatsoever, "small ass fuckin' hands."

There's something about how he puts the silly little (it is not little and it's probably silver plated or platinum) ring onto your finger that makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

It's the imagery of him doing so that makes you feel a spark. Makes you feel something deep in the pit of your stomach, something telling you that one day you hope he does this again, but for a different reason and with a ring that fits.

But that wasn't important right now. You were still young.

"Yeah, like I said... You have big hands," you finally speak, clearing your throat nervously, "It's too bad. Wearing something that's yours would be nice."

"You wear my shit all the time. Isn't that my shirt?"

It was, in fact, his shirt.

"That's not what I mean, I mean something like this. That I don't have to take off... It's like... Having a piece of you with me, all the time. No matter how far we are from one another or whatever happens to either of us, it's like a piece of you is with me always."

It was so cliché. And Billy's continued silence after you spoke only made you cringe at yourself. Albeit the words were true, and you meant them from the bottom of your heart, you also recognized how silly and corny it sounded. Billy wasn't corny, he wasn't mushy and soft like that. He had to be rolling his eyes you just couldn't see.

"Okay, go ahead and laugh."

But rather, Billy was just staring. Not rolling his eyes, making any jokes. You couldn't see this because he was still behind you, your back pressed against his front. But he wasn't preparing himself to laugh or make fun.

If you were anyone else, maybe he would have. If he heard someone else say something like that to someone he would've rolled his eyes and thought it was the corniest shit ever. But this wasn't the case.

It was you. And it made his chest tighten. The implication that one day maybe there was a possibility that life could tear you away from him or vice versa wasn't something that Billy liked to think about or entertain.

As far as he was concerned, nothing could happen. Not if he didn't think about it in the moment.

Pulling himself away from you suddenly, you missed the sudden loss of his warmth and his body against yours, the way his hands molded around your body.

You worried for a moment that you'd said something wrong. But you couldn't get a word in as you watched him move around his room.

Billy was on a mission, he went to a dresser beside his bed and knelt down. Inside the drawer was where he kept the few earrings he had and liked to wear in his single pierced ear.

He didn't like leaving them out in the open. His father used the fact he had his ear pierced against him. Neil would probably throw them out or use them as more ammunition against his son if he saw them sitting out.

Picking out one of the earrings- one that dangled- Billy stood up straight again and made his way back to you.

He took your chin into one of his hands and tilted your head to the side, then tilted it to the other side before settling it back to look directly at him.

"Left or right?"

"What?"

"Left or right, Jesus, which ear do you want this in?"

He dangled the earring in his hand in front of your face, as if it was obvious what he wanted and you were just annoying him.

In reality, he was very much unused to this- this feeling and the actions he was taking.

"Oh, right-" you quickly catch on as your heart swells, taking your small stud silver earring out from your left ear, holding it in your hand, waiting.

Billy's hands are gentle. Actually very gentle in this moment. You know him to be heavy-handed- not on purpose. The way he holds your hand is tighter than other people might, or the way he holds you is tight and you're always pulled against him. In bed, he's leaving his fingers indented on your body. He's never hurt you, but by default, he's rougher than other people.

But right now, as he takes the dangly earring and holds it so close to your ear, he is the most gentle you've ever seen him. He's so carefully placing the earring into the small hole in your earlobe, making sure it's in and not going to come out.

His fingers are warm against your ear and skin, and it feels peaceful. The way his knuckles brush against the side of your face as he puts the earring in. You just want him near you.

Billy's hands pull away once the piece of jewelry is secure, taking your face in his hands again, slightly squeezing your cheeks together as he does so. Seemingly admiring his handiwork and his earring in your ear, his face that he'd been keeping neutral seems to brighten a smidge and you note the upturn at the corner of his mouth.

"Looks good," he says suddenly, turning your face to look into the mirror on his wall.

The earring moves at the movement, dangling and touching the skin below your ear softly and it sort of tickles. But he's right, it does look good. Maybe it's a bit odd in contrast to your other ear, stud alone while the other is more dramatic, but you love it all the same. It's his, it's him, and he's letting you wear it.

"Give me your earring."

His hand is out expectantly, waiting for you to drop the object he's referring to into his open palm. Focused on admiring the earring in your ear and the warm feeling in your stomach, it confuses you for a few seconds as he moves his hand in a motion that repeats his previous words but this time only in his actions.

You place the object into his hand and he's easily moving, removing the small hoop he decided to wear in his ear that day and putting it on the dresser beside the dish of rings as he pulls the back off your simple silver stud.

He slips it into his own piercing hole and closes the back as if it's second nature, not messing up or having trouble finding where the hole is. 

It looks so simple for someone like Billy Hargrove. It's a little circle stud, not a hoop or a dangly piece. But it makes your eyes widen and fill with the beginning of tears.

It's the act of him doing this that makes you want to cry. The fact that he didn't just leave it at giving you his earring to wear, but also wearing yours in return. It is so goddamn cheesy, corny, cliché maybe. But your heart doubles in size when you look at him.

"Not as cool as my earring but..." he looks at himself in the mirror, making you turn to look as well, facing a reflection of the two of you with his earring in your ear and one of yours in his, "It's you."

It's you. That's how you feel. It's him. And it will always be him.

sundress no panties 

midoriya being reader's and bakugou's biggest cheerleader, rooting for them since day one!?!?!?! 😭💖 he literally watched his 2 friends grow up and fall in love...he's so happy for them 🥹💗 like imagine the waterworks when they tell him they're (finally) in a relationship...if anyone believes in their love, it's midoriya!!!! 💓

the way things go !

synopsis : izuku knows, he always has, but he'll let you both figure it out.

an. this is literally so cute i love this !! tysm for the ask, this is pretty late tho so super sorries about this if youre still sticking around anon :(( but i hope you (and all yall) enjoy!!

cw. fluffy fluff ! childhood friends YAAAAAAH—middle school katsuki lol, childhood to like second year of ua timeskip, lmk if there's anything else !

if he thinks hard enough, izuku midoriya can remember the exact moment he realised his best friend had fallen in love with you.

you'd gone from being a new addition to their little friend group to you guys being so tight knit that people automatically associated you all together, if one was around—the other two were always expected nearby, a little trio.

sure, izuku never wanted anybody to feel left out, but you and kacchan were his best friends forever. you all had sleep overs at katsuki's house and went out for ice cream, visit for birthdays and stay up late to watch tv and tell scary stories under the covers. katsuki always pulled mean little pranks afterwards which would always scare the pants off of izuku, you always reassured him though, saying katsuki was being stupid. he thought that it was really cool how you never seemed to get scared until he noticed how you'd jump sometimes, but he found you even cooler.

you were best friends forever, shown by the cool woven bracelets you'd gotten for your friends when you came back from a beach vacation with your family. kacchan had complained the entire time you were gone, calling everything boring without you, but he never said a word about it when you got back and smacked izuku on the arm hard when he'd tried to tell you how much they'd both missed you.

izuku had managed to rip his gaze off his bracelet, woven with green and shades of blue that matched the sea to look up at his friend to ask how he felt about his gift. katsuki's had hints of orange, reds and vibrant pinks and he didn't complain about it even though he always said it was a girl colour. red eyes like his bracelet fixed onto his arm.

"look and yours kinda looks like it has flames on it, see ? like your explosions !" you explained excitedly, and izuku couldn't help getting excited too. your humour was always contagious. "oh yeah, i see it !" he agreed and you look over at him to nod in approval, obviously proud of your choice. and izuku realised then that the blonde still hadn't said one word.

you didn't seem to mind though, still too excited from your trip and izuku's reaction to his gift. you stuck your arm against katsuki's and grabbed izuku's so he could stick it to his, all your multicoloured bracelets coming together to form a mess of jumbled up colours "see, now we all match !" you exclaimed.

katsuki's cheeks were pink, stained and blotchy even through the worn out little bandaid stuck to his cheek. and all he could manage then was a nod, katsuki who you'd always call a big mouth was speechless and just nodded. izuku thought that was really weird

"i like it." he mumbled out quietly, obviously realising that you were now both awaiting an answer from him "we match," he repeated "but mines cooler." he finished off, crossing his arms and huffing to the sky proudly. and you burst out laughing, little giggles spill out and you break out into a laugh as you lean onto izuku. he can't help himself from laughing either. katsuki tries, really does, but he ends up laughing a bit too, nudging at your leg with his foot when you call him a big mouth.

and for the entire rest of the day, kacchan had found some excuse or other to drag you around and hold your hand, saying something about how you'd get lost since you were gone for so long, izuku thought that was weird too since you were only gone too weeks, but he quickly forgot about it. it was still hot when you got back, so you went for ice cream with money miss mitsuki had given you all to celebrate your return, and had gone to your (not so) secret spot by the river bank to laze around after your bellies were full.

the wind breezed through his clothes as izuku remembered the taste of his two scoops on his tongue, sighing and feeling himself getting sleepy. he hears you and kacchan talking.

he's talking about how your bracelet looks more like his, so you two match more. "that means you gotta stay with me forever so . . don't leave again." he mumbles, izuku hears the tugging and pulling of grass roots "was boring without you here." before he quickly catches himself with an "that's what izuku said." and the green haired boy answered with a sleepy "uhuh . . " that makes you giggle.

"i can ask my mom if you and izuku can come next time !" you chirp excitedly and you've always been contagious, so izuku responds again with a sleepy "yaaay . ." that makes you laugh.

when school started back up, katsuki had been quick to rip off his jacket and show off his bracelet to your friends, shown off by the short sleeved t-shirt he was wearing. always proud to answer the question of where'd gotten his cool new bracelet with a loud "yn got it for me from when she went on her trip, i bet she didn't get you anything !"

always proud and showing off was a kacchan that izuku knew all too well. but it was always about himself, never about others. and yet here he was showing off your gift to anybody who would listen because you were best friends. izuku thinks he truly realised, not then, but during lunch break when kacchan had pushed a boy to the ground because he'd made fun of his bracelet and called it girly.

"not true !" he'd yelled "you're just mad 'cus yn didn't get you nothin' and she likes me more then you. i bet you're just jealous 'cus she hates you, she told me you stink !"

and that's when he knew. because all three of you were always together and izuku had never ever heard you say that. but it seemed that to katsuki, being hated by you was the worst thing imaginable.

and that's when he knew.

and to him it was only natural for katsuki, one of the coolest people he knew, to have a crush on the other coolest person he knew. but when he'd asked kacchan about it after school, he'd punched him in the shoulder and told him "n-no ! shut up, quit talking stupid !" even as his cheeks turned beet red and he trudged off to go grab his backpack.

there was no doubt about it, you had a crush on each other.

izuku knows it, he knows you both know it. so why don't you do anything about it ?! it's sorta been driving him crazy.

he sees it all. sure, him and kacchan don't actually hang out anymore, but you and izuku still hang out and he sees them. the looks, the almost touches and the teasing and the shoulder nudges and—seriously, does nobody else see this ?!

but he'll keep quiet, he won't force you to do anything, he'll let you both take your time. but it seems the blond has been getting more and more impatient with himself.

"hey, nerd." izuku jumps despite himself at the rough voice from above him, looking up and quickly hiding his notebook from his ex-childhood friend.

"k-kacchan, hey ! didn't expect to see you here, heh . ." he trails off, eyes darting to the side. and izuku really hadn't expected to see him, kacchan wasn't the type to stay after class, always ready to walk you home when school was out. he feels his hands shaking and clenches onto his uniform pants. katsuki ignores the boy's attempt at friendly conversation, scoffing.

"what's your deal, huh ?" uh oh, izuku panics—what had he done ? he doesn't remember doing anything to anger him.

"i don't know what you're talking about, ka—"

a hand slams against his desk, startling the green haired boy and he almost jumps out of his skin.

"don't fuck with me ! y'know good and goddamn well what i'm talking about."

"but i—"

and then your name gets brought up "ya keep fuckin' staring at her all the time. what, you like her or something ?"

wait, what.

"huh ?"

"don't huh me," katsuki copies with a nasally voice "s'bad enough she wants to hang with you all the time, now you want more ?!"

oh, wait.

"just so you know, she doesn't like the nerdy type so you can go ahead and—" katsuki cuts himself off when he sees izuku smile, a smile he in his mind can only imagine as a smug one, so he scowls " quit makin' that creepy fuckin' face at me, weirdo ! i'll tell you right now—you haven't won and i damn sure won't lose ! never to a nerd like you, you got that ?!" he declared, before stomping out of the classroom.

izuku despite the obvious declaration of war he has no want to be part in, can't help but smile. "you've got nothing to worry about." he mutters to himself.

it'll be fine, he'll let you take your time—he has a feeling it won't be for much longer anyway.

"good morning, yn."

"hi, izuku."

you insist on not looking him in the eye when you speak, and izuku who's known you for years by now, immediately knew something was up.

you're here early, the common room is empty beside you and him right now "how'd you sleep ?" you ask, sipping on some juice. izuku hums, fixing his tie for class, you beckon him over and lean over to fix it for him which he thanks you for with an added shy chuckle.

and it's quiet.

izuku takes a spot next to you, "you know, you can talk to me about anything right ? i don't wanna assume but you look a bit bothered by something." your best friend smiles warmly at you when you make eye contact "i'm here if you need anything."

you squirm in your seat and then finally you spit your next sentence out at super speed "katsuki and i have liked each other for a while now and he asked me out and i said yes !"

"I KNEW IT!" the green haired's exclamation knocks you back and he flies up from his seat, he smiles down at you victoriously like he'd just defeated a villain.

"i knew you guys had been acting different, it was just too obvious ! always looking at each other for long periods of time—and sneaking off and standing so close to each other, it all makes sense !" and you're struck absolutely silent, he rambled and rambled on like he was taking notes for his hero notebook—seriously, how much did he know ?!

"w-wait but—you knew that we liked each other ?" you ask. izuku sits back down, even clears his throat after his little outburst, and smiles at you.

"oh yeah, i've known that for a while now !"

". . how long is a while ?"

". . a couple years."

"oh." you conclude. "i'm sorry i never told you, zuku . .s'just that i know that you and katsu's relationship was . . more than a bit strained so . ."

izuku immediately frown in shock "what, no it's not—you shouldn't have to apologise ! that was between kacchan and i so—" and he stops in his tracks "is that why it took you guys so long to . ."

now you're cutting him off "no, no that's not it ! i just never really had the courage to say anything !" you shyly rub at your glass "and honestly, i had no idea he even liked me like that . ."

surely you had to be messing with him. izuku sweatdrops at you without a word.

"well anyway, i'm glad you too are happy, truly." he utters sincerely. you smile back at him with a giggle and your humour's always been contagious, so he laughs along with you.

and when he sees you and kacchan walking to class holding hands he can't help but throw up a victorious fist up, leaving his friends a little bit confused.

(afterwards during training with katsuki, he wishes him a playful congratulations on winning, the blonde proceeding to punch his arm hard and izuku couldn't help but laugh. until katsuki chucked his water bottle at him.)

taglist ! :

@napbatata @andysdrafts @queenpiranhadon @jastoo46 @cecelia77

@katszumi @m-inluv @monchurie @the-hangry-otter @starlostlaiba

@moonshuul @erenstitanweave @katsus-mistress @dondeh-zedonutqueen @liluvtojineteyam

@aspiringwriter1111 @sugurusmoon @redvelvetstan1

@niktwazny303 @nemisimp @kit-katsukii @alphasage @milktea-academia

“He wears crocs and will steal your socks!”

Bugbear dating headcanons

Reader’s gender is not specified

Fucking asshole I want to fucking choke him

He can be so annoying but not in a way that can make you angry, he’s mainly just playfully annoying

I’m sorry to say this but your survival rates are lowered if you’re in the garden or forest (thankfully not literally)

He can and will tackle you to the ground, he’ll just lay on you then. If he’s feeling nice he might help you up

You have missing socks because of him. He doesn’t care if they’re smaller than his or smth. He’s stealing them

It’s canon he sleeps in a bear hoodie, so if you somehow feel safe enough to sleep in the same bed as him just know you aren’t getting him all hot and shirtless. You’re getting him in a bear hoodie and ugly pants

Also probs has a bear plushie he cuddles more than you

Might let you wear the bear hoodie but he’ll tease you so much

Probs randomly drags you to sit on his lap (if you’re small enough tbh he wouldn’t mind if you’re taller too) or he randomly lays his head on your lap

If you two ever go to the bathhouse together y’all are either relaxing or he’s being a little shit and splashing you with the water

If you two take a bath together in private (like in the bathtub in your dorm or whatever) he’s making it a bubble bath, maybe with a rubber duck too

He’ll whine if you wanna get out though so just think if it’s really worth it to get in the tub with that bitch

Randomly bites you for some reason?? It lowkey hurts too like damn

Won’t complain if you try biting him though, will in fact tease and mock you because ‘you aren’t biting hard enough’ and will ask bitchy questions like “Oh? Is that the hardest you can bite? Cmon, bite harder~”

Also I’m pretty sure it’s canon he likes kaomojis. So if you’re ever texting him just know you’ll probs see them once in a while

He’s terrifying… yet he likes kaomojis and cute bears? Okay…

Also if you did his route, y’know that scene where he wears a bear apron? If he ever makes you breakfast or lunch just know he’s wearing it still

Will probs make you wear it sometimes or suggest you buy a matching one

Probs will joke about you doing that naked apron thing tbh I wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t joking

Ok that’s all I can think of for now. Bugbear fans take this content of your fav red flag

The Chance To Change

Summary: When he coincidentally walks back into your life, he’s determine to change the way things are

Pairing: Aomine Daiki x black!fem!reader

Word Count: 24, 909 😐🧍🏽‍♀️

Warnings: professional basketball player!aomine, bookstore!au kinda, lots of angst, lots of fluff, reader is oblivious, reader has trust issues at the beginning, aomine not knowing how to deal with his feelings, reader’s on her period at one point, reader is scared of like horror rides (sorry if you aren’t), lots and lots of kissing and making out, lots of intimacy, misunderstandings, smut: unprotected sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, lots and lots of confessions of love, aomine is very whipped for you, reader’s best friend is an oc, and aomine’s teammates are oc’s, lots of going back and forth in time, all characters are 21+, if I missed anything please let me know, I know that there’s gonna be typos in this and when it isn’t 3 am, I’ll get around to fixing them lol

A/N: Now. I can’t even begin to explain how or why I was able to write all of this. I’ve been working on this fic for about a month, and I was finally able to finish it (thank God bc I have so much work to do lmao). I know some parts might seem kinda rushed, but I can’t really bring myself to care bc I spent so much time on this and I’m just happy that’s it’s finished. Reblogs are greatly appreciated even though I know it might break your phone if you try to LMFAO, but if you read all this, I seriously appreciate it. And I definitely projected in this fic. This is also for @sintiva’s #theclockisticking collab, and thank you so much for letting me join!

Running a bookstore is something you’ve always wanted to do. It seems silly to most people, but you’ve always found small, quaint bookstores to be really peaceful, and it was always somewhere you could go when the world was always too much. Whenever you stepped inside, it was like the outside disappeared, and you were only surrounded by paper bound together that told a million stories.

You actually read through the entire bookstore in your town, and you had become so close with the owner, that they gave it to you after you graduated college. You were surprised, to say the least, and a little worried, not knowing much about running anything, let alone a business, but the owner was more than helpful with getting you into the swing of things.

Now, it’s like everything is second nature for you. Opening up the store and smelling that certain smell that books have that you’ve always loved. The small coffee shop you have in the corner is always a popular spot because it has a giant window that allows you to view the whole town. You’ve found yourself sitting in one of the comfortable chairs that are over there multiple times, watching the sunrise and seeing the city start to wake up.

Your co-worker/co-owner/best friend Mia always comes in about an hour after you do, always making a comment about how she doesn’t understand how you manage to wake up so early. You always brush it off with a roll of your eyes as you hand her a cup of coffee that you know she’ll need.

During the week, the place is usually quiet, a person every now and then, most of them coming in all of the time, so you know them by their schedules. You’re sitting at the front desk, reading a book, one of your favorites, even though it’s a cliché exes-to-lovers plotline, you always find yourself re-reading it whenever you have time.

Keep reading

𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐒

part two of anonymous bidder

› featuring: med student!shuntaro chishiya + fem!reader

› word count: 2,674 words

› synopsis: it had been three years since you last seen shuntaro chishiya after graduation. suddenly, a fateful interaction brings you two back together. the question is: will you forgive him?

› rating: nsfw, +18

› cw: vulgar language, explicit content, sex on camera, angst, brief rough sex scene

› setting: after college au where reader is interning as a biotechnologist in a hospital and chishiya is a medical student doing clinical rotations

⤷ chai's note: hey y'all! i really appreciate all the love i received on anonymous bidder so i decided to enlogate it into four to five parts. i know this is a bit short (and extremely less smutty) but i hope you still enjoy it! (also dw pt 3 is gna be way more explicit) i haven't been able to write much because i've been away at medic training for the army (long story) but i wanted to get part two to you guys asap. if you want to be added to the tag list, let me know! anyone who's in my tag list will be tagged in all of my future writings so if you'd rather be tagged in only anonymous bidder update, please lmk! i love you all so much! thank you for allowing me to create beautiful pieces for you guys. i appreciate everything. much love, chai !!

⤷tags: @poetrieshouse @tungstenorc @mackjestic @seraphvm @naegisimp @fishisahappydog @parkersmyth @huachengsbestie01 @chlooooop @bxcndd @kowzs @sleepysnk @luuminou ily guys sm for supporting my writing, you have no idea how much i appreciate it 🫶🏻

your fingers flipped the pages of your notes while your eyes scanned over the material. “let’s see… test subject a responded to chemicals a and e very well. that’s a good sign.” you whispered to yourself, highlighting the text with your pink pen. “but chemical b and c did not react well. that could be detrimental when putting it into certain med-”

“y/n? is that… is that you?” a somewhat familiar voice questioned from the breakroom door you didn’t even realize opened. your eyes widened as you turned to face chishiya shuntaro, cheeks going pale and mouth propping itself somewhat open.

“y/n? is that… is that you?” a somewhat familiar voice questioned from the breakroom door you didn’t even realize opened. your eyes widened as you turned to face chishiya shuntaro, cheeks going pale and mouth propping itself somewhat open.

“chishiya?” you said out of shock more than actually questioning it. you never thought you’d see him again after college graduation, thinking he’d go to some hot shot hospital for his medical rotations. instead, he was still in shibuya. the hospital was nice, sure, but there were better options for the school’s valedictorian.

“how’ve you been? it’s been, what, almost three years?” chishiya asked with a chortle at the end, crossing his arms against his chest and leaning against the countertop with his hip. he looked nearly the same as he did when you’d seen him last. his silky blonde strands were still touching his shoulders. the brown eyes that had a habit of scanning everyone in the room were glistening with judgement. his frame looked bigger, as if he’d been working out in his free time. yet, something was off. he wasn’t the same chishiya. his presence seemed softer, as if he was less intense. could it be working with patients made him more susceptible to empathy and sympathy?

“i’ve been good!” your voice sounded excited and somewhat exasperated, as if you were holding a breath before speaking. “i started an internship here under the lead researcher for the hospital so work has been… draining?” you questioned, not sure if that was the right word to use. “but i really like it here! everyone is so nice and welcoming, surprisingly. i thought biotechnologists were snarky assholes.” the last sentence was whispered with a laugh. chishiya stared at you intently, causing the smile that creeped on your lips to fade. “is… is something wrong, chishi-”

“you just look as beautiful as the last time i saw you.” chishiya cut you off. the words were simple, but everything in your brain scattered as if the things he’d said were a complex math problem. you gulped, feeling a familiar crimson rush to your face. the room seemed about ten degrees hotter, causing your breathing to increase ever so slightly with your heart rate. his face was plain, but it felt like he was staring straight into your soul.

“i-” you tried to speak after a few moments of silence to kill the awkwardness. it was to no avail when the words decided to get stuck in your throat. you brushed the strands of hair coming out of your ponytail behind your ear out of embarrassment. “thanks…” your voice was so soft that he almost didn’t hear you. chishiya let out a small laugh, shaking his head. the almost-silver strands fell to cover his face, but you could still see his smile. he was definitely a softer version of the chishiya shuntaro you knew in college.

“you don’t have to be embarrassed, y/n. it’s just a compliment. relax.” you let out an exhale you didn’t realize was trapped in your lungs at the end of his statement. an awkward laugh escaped your mouth as you turned back to your notes, pretending to focus on them instead of letting memories of the past seep in. “anyways, we should go out for lunch today. you down?” he asked. it didn't seem malicious, but you couldn’t help but think that he wanted something else.

your body was pinned under his, hands wrapped around your wrists as you screamed out of pleasure into the pillow. your back kept arching into him with each stroke of his thick cock. “you love that, don’t ya? fucking whore…” the last two words were mumbled under his breath as he continuously kissed your g-spot with the tip of his member. chishiya uncuffed a hand from your wrists and went to the locks of hair by the nape of your neck, pulling your head backwards to where his lips were pressed against your ear. “i wanna hear you scream my fucking name. show them how much you want me, pretty girl.” he relentlessly pounded into your cunt as you moaned loud enough for the camera to pick up. “show them you’re mine.”

it had been two weeks since the library incident, and you were absolutely needy for chishiya shuntaro. your pussy ached every time you seen his face around campus, as if it was made for him. your avoidance didn’t help, but instead made everything worse; especially since you watched him every time he livestreamed as k1ng0fd1am0nds. eventually, he cornered you in the dorms the same way he did in the library. one thing led to another until you were yet again underneath the beautiful man that was chishiya.

‘friends with benefits’ was what he’d call the situationship that lasted up to graduation. it was a wonderful experience, to say the least. chishiya was a very selfless person in bed and always made sure you got off multiple times before he did. you even gave in to his requests to perform with him on his cam streams. it was an anxiety inducing situation, considering nearly the whole school found out. it was the talk of the town for an entire two weeks, with some teachers even giving you a side eye. by the time everything went back to normal, graduation was nearing closer and you could see the finish line.

being done with chishiya was bittersweet. on one hand, you could finally be free of his grasp and actually try to find a real relationship. on the other, you knew you’d miss him. he was genuinely a fun person to be around whenever you weren’t at school. chishiya knew how to crack a good joke. he would pay the tab no matter where you two went out to eat. he also did his best to calm your anxiety whenever you were studying; in some cases, giving you head or fingering you while asking questions and stopping whenever you got the answer wrong.

at the end of it all, he didn’t seem bothered. chishiya didn’t even say goodbye. his dorm was empty and cleared out before you could get the chance to wish him well in his future. for some reason, it made your heart ache. you thought about it for a month straight trying to figure out what you might’ve done wrong. he never answered your texts or calls. he disappeared.

“no.” you stated before closing your notes. chishiya scoffed in disbelief, and he must have thought you were joking with the smile that was still plastered on his face.

“oh, you’re serious.” chishiya’s mouth downturned into a frown as his eyebrows furrowed with confusion. “i don’t get it. it’s just lunch, y/n.” you almost felt bad. almost. you continued to pack your things into your satchel bag and put it over your shoulder. looking at him in the eyes hurt too much, so you focused on the wall above his head to make it seem like you were staring at him.

“chishiya, if you want to fuck someone, go find some other girl for your cam show. we ended things three years ago, let’s keep it that way.” the words flowed out of your mouth before you could stop them. you could tell they stung by the way chishiya was looking at you with skepticism. the emotional poison he’d given you three years ago was finally out of your body and returned the original snake.

“y/n-” chishiya started, but was soon cut off by your own voice.

“goodbye.” and with that, you left the breakroom with a slam of the door.

your heart was racing as you walked into work the next day, terrified that you’d be face to face with chishiya shuntaro again. you knew your words hurt, but you didn’t care. he hurt you. isn’t it fair?

guilt started to pour into your chest and made it feel heavier than usual. you did your best to shake it off on the way to the elevator, but it was to no avail. you wanted to apologize. you wanted to scream. you wanted to disappear, just like he did. all of these thoughts clouded your mind and you just wanted peace.

ding!

the doors to the elevators opened and hospital staff fled out as if they’d been in there for hours. you let out a deep breath, walking in after everyone cleared out and pressing the button for the lab. the doors shut quickly, leaving you alone with your thoughts. you clutched your satchel bag to your chest and rested your chin on the top. “i’m so fucking stupid…” you whispered to yourself while tears dared to well inside of your eyes.

ding!

the sound of the elevator brought you out of your thoughts and you leaned sideways on the elevator walls, facing a different direction than the entrance to hide the emotions that were slowly appearing on your face. “y/n?” chishiya’s voice felt like a burn to your ears. you closed your eyes and muttered a desperate ‘fuck’ under your breath. “are you okay?” his concerned voice was followed by the sound of the elevator creaking, causing you to look around with a somewhat panicked expression until the noise stopped and the elevator kept moving.

“yeah. yeah, i’m fine.” a sigh escaped your lungs as you leaned your head back onto the wall, ready to get this interaction over with.

“y/n, listen.” chishiya began, trying his best to speak before you could intervene. however, you weren’t about to let that happen.

“i don’t want to listen, chishiya.” you opened your eyes and positioned your head to where you could look him dead in the eyes. your gaze was nearly piercing his skull with every second you looked at him. “you disappeared, why can’t i disappear? why-” your voice became shakier with each word. you took an extensive inhale before letting it out and continuing. “why do i have to feel guilty for expressing my feelings in the breakroom yesterday? why do i want to apologize to you when you were the one who left me!” the tears that had left you returned at full force, dripping down your cheeks like a small waterfall in a forest.

the creaking noise of the elevator had gotten louder, but your frustrations drowned out every sound except the words coming out of your mouth. chishiya was staring sorrowfully at you, as if his own heart was breaking listening to you. his face was the least of your concerns as the elevator came to a halt. both of you grabbed onto the railings placed on either wall of the enclosed space, a thud bringing you both out of the current conversation. an automated voice rang through the elevator speakers, replacing the jingles that were playing prior to the sudden stop.

“please hold tight. assistance is on the way. do not panic.”

“jesus fucking christ.” you said with nothing but exhaustion and irritation. your head leaned against the wall again with a thump. this is not where you expected to be when you played the day’s events in your head this morning. “just my luck…” you mumbled, opening your eyes only to roll them.

“y/n, i didn’t want to do that.” chishiya started the conversation back up, walking closer to you in order to get you to look in his direction. you tried to back up, only flushing yourself further into the wall, as you stared him down. he stopped in his tracks. his body was clad in light blue scrubs and a white doctor’s coat. his hands came up and adjusted the lanyard and stethoscope around his neck out of what you presumed was anxiety. “do you want the honest answer, or do you want to keep going on hating me with no answer to why i disappeared?” chishiya quizzed, crossing his arms the same way he did when he was in college. his shoulder length hair was meticulously placed into a ponytail with only his bangs left out to frame his face.

you stared at him, waiting for him to continue talking instead of cooperating with a nod. chishiya inched closer, standing next to you against the wall so that you both were facing the elevator doors. he let out a profound sigh and began again. “i knew that i had feelings from you after the first time in the library, even before that, i knew.” he confessed, leaning his head against the wall as if to mimick you. your head turned to watch him as he spoke. “i didn’t want to accept it. i thought that i could keep you at a distance but everything kept telling me to go to you. i’d see you in the cafeteria and wave. you always avoided me, so i never even had the chance to tell you how i felt.” chishiya’s voice was lower now, almost as if he was embarrassed. “when i finally got you alone, we had sex. it was wonderful, don’t get me wrong.” he laughed to himself, causing you to chortle. the sentence almost made you blush, but it felt so natural to hear him talk like this. “anyways, i didn’t think that it would be the best impression if i asked you out after that. even when we were friends with benefits,” chishiya put air quotes around friends with benefits, making you stifle a laugh. “i didn’t want to ask you out. why?” he shook his head, strands of his bangs moving with him. “i have no idea. it would’ve been perfect. but part of me didn’t feel good enough. you deserved better. a clean slate of a relationship where it starts out as a relationship, not a fuck in the library. so i left.”

the end of his explanation came far too soon. you sat in silence, staring at his face that was focused on the elevator flooring. you wanted to feel guilty, but you didn’t. you had no reason to apologize since your feelings were valid and justified in this situation. his explanation was not an excuse. but… “i forgive you.”

the words were like an alarm to his ears, making him perk his head up and look at you. chishiya’s expression was that of a puppy you just asked to go for a walk. “what?” he questioned as if the words didn’t register into his brain.

“i forgive you.” you stated calmly with a profound sigh. “i understand that it might’ve been hard to come to terms with your feelings, so you did what you knew how to do. you closed yourself off and left. so, i forgive you.”

you both stood in the elevator for what seemed like an eternity of silence. the only sound present was a drowned out beeping noise from the elevator’s alarm system. it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, nor was it awkward. you couldn’t help but feel as if you both were healing from the past wounds with each other's presence.

“so, y/n...” chishiya said with a cracked voice before clearing his throat. it made you chuckle, as an unconfident chishiya wasn’t exactly usual. “would you like to go on a date with me?” his eyes veered over to yours and you retained the smile from your previous chuckle, nodding your head slowly.

“yeah, chishiya. i would.”

Hii, can I request an angst filled fic with billy please? I’m thinking he doesn’t die when him and eleven are fighting the mind flayer and y/n is part of the gang and helps fight the mind flayer. But when everything is getting back to normal Billy is having a lot of nightmares and calls you for comfort even tho he’s so hard headed he doesn’t actually admit the reason but you know..

Billy then realises you knew all along he was suffering and he’s shocked with the amount of love you’ve shown him and he wants to be with you but as he goes to admit his feelings to you he comes across you and Steve Harrington out on a date and it kills him..

That night he makes a plan to make you his and when you come home billy is tapping your window asking to sneak in.. I’ll leave it up to you how you end the fic but just a silly idea I had lol and I’d love to see how you write this :)

a/n: This took longer than I meant for it to because I ended up writing way more than I initially meant to so, here you go! (This was so fun tysm bbys) also I wrote with fem reader cause it's what I do by default eee....

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader (female pronouns)

Length: 6.4k (yeesh)

Warnings: Billy is struggling, mental illness, thoughts of death/dying, Billy curses ofc. OOC Billy a little ooc maybe, mentions of abusive parents

My Girl - B.H.

Sleep was meant to be the escape from reality. It was the escape from all the bad things around you, all the bad thoughts and memories that demanded to be heard and seen. A moment in time where there was nothing, your brain was empty, or it felt that way, and you were free.

But people like Billy Hargrove weren't so lucky.

Whenever you sleep, people say you always dream, it's just a matter of whether or not you remember the dream when you wake up. Most of the time, dreams are forgotten the moment you open your eyes.

But people like Billy Hargrove remembered them when he opened his eyes.

Half the time, they were the reason his eyes had opened. They were less dreams, more memories, of that thing. The Mind Flayer. But they always ended differently than how it had really ended.

His corpse, on the ground in the mall, you leaning over him. Begging. Max, crying.

Or maybe it becomes your corpse instead of his. Or Max. Those ones are the worst. The ones where you or she die protecting him, or in his place. Because if anyone had to die that night, it had to be him. It should be him. 

Sometimes, in the darkest parts of his brain, the deepest corners he tried to ignore, he truly thought it might have been better if he died. Not just for everyone around him but maybe for himself.

It was hard. Some days were agony, while others weren't. Some days things felt so slow, and unreal, especially the first few weeks after the incident. He had grown a special distaste for hospitals for all the time he had spent in one.

Phantom pains would wrack his body some days, and nights. Some days it hurt so bad, especially his chest where the gnarly scarring lay, that he couldn't do much of anything. Days where his only reprieve lay in a bed that would let him fall asleep for minutes before it woke him up again with harsh reminders of everything. Tonight was one of those nights.

A  night where he woke up covered in a cold sweat, quite literally soaked through the clothes he wore to bed into the sheets; pale and rattled as he sits upheaving- it mixes with the sharpest pain in his chest that he has come to expect but it doesn't matter how much he expects it, it still knocks the wind out of him. 

For a brief moment, he feels like he's going to throw up what he had for dinner that night. But he doesn't. Instead, his eyes close as he tries to breathe properly again; the erraticness of his heartbeat and his uneven breathing only make his body ache. Phantom pains. Like he's there again like he's watching through his own eyes as he takes someone else to be a puppet to it- screaming inside because he may be an asshole but he does not want to do this. The only thing his body can do on his own accord in those moments is cry; it must've been a sight to see. A newly 18-year-old boy, with tears in his eyes as he does horrific things for something else. 

Usually, it works. Usually, closing his eyes and just trying to breathe works; kind of. Billy can eventually find his bearings again and lay back down- maybe not to fall asleep again immediately, but just to lay there. Granted, he's not good at coping. He never was good at coping, and any mechanism he ever had has been dangerous or stupid. 

Yet tonight it won't work. When his eyes open again, it's still like he's in that moment. It's still like those tendrils are digging into his sides, into his chest, and like he's hearing himself scream as whatever that thing is tries to take one more soul before it too fades away. If he looks down at his chest, he is almost sure that he'll see the gaping wound again. 

He needs to talk to you. That's all he knows in those moments as he peels himself from his sweat soaked bed; he has to change the sheets and take a shower. Who knew a person could sweat that much? 

Billy had never been so glad before that he had a phone in his room; sometimes he wondered how the fuck he got away with that with his father. Before everything happened, it was something only Billy used in the house, everyone else used the phone in the living room, but nowadays, when Max really wanted to quickly call someone, she would use it too. Anything really to avoid Neil, and Susan at times too; Max said once that complacency could be just as bad as actually committing the act. That still stuck in his mind. 

Sitting on the edge of his bed beside his bedside table, the mint-colored phone in his hands, his body cries but he doesn't listen to it. Had he realized the time, Billy may've had second thoughts, not that he cared really what time it was, but you were most likely asleep and anyone in this house could've answered.

After two rings, Billy sighed preparing to just put the phone back on the base and do something. Anything, to calm down. Maybe go out for a drive- but you'd kill him for that one, it was dangerous when he felt like this especially considering when he felt fine he still drove like a mad man. The cold shower sounds nice but at the same time it doesn't; it scares him because he liked it cold. He loved it cold. And Billy never wants to feel that cold again. 

"Hello?" you sound tired, you swallow, throat dry. 

Billy doesn't say anything at first. What was he doing? It was the middle of the night, and he needed something to ground him again, to remind him he was here. He needed you; somehow it always came back to you, the comfort he needed. 

You had just been some girl that watched those stupid bratty kids, one of them being his sister. Someone who had been friendly with them since before Max and himself came to Hawkins. Someone, who in school, offered to show him around if he wanted. Someone that spoke to him as a person first rather than a nuisance or a piece of meat to snatch up. You became so heavily intertwined with him via school, his sister, her friends, and the Upside Down. He wouldn't admit it genuinely, but he was a bit disappointed that you got a job at JC Penny in Starcourt over the other position for lifeguard you had mentioned you might go for to him. 

He fucking hated Hawkins when he arrived the previous year. But maybe it wasn't as bad as he thought if you were in it.

"Hello...?" your voice alone made his muscles loosen, if only by a fraction. But now there was a new pressure in his chest, a tightness in his limbs not related to the dreams and memories or the aches and pains- it was related to you and he's not used to it. 

Billy hears you breathe out, preparing to hang the phone up, and he reminds himself; he is Billy fucking Hargrove, not a sissy baby who can't talk to girls. Right?

But you were different. 

"It's Billy."

He feels silly in that moment and his own name on his lips for some reason doesn't even sound like his name to himself. He was used to being so in the moment with his decisions; live now because it doesn't matter what you do, he won't ever like it- and rarely did he ever regret those decisions truly, but every other emotion in his body was working overtime. 

"Oh," your voice seems to perk up but takes on an edge; worry? He can't tell. He still isn't used to the emotion of worry being directed toward him, "What's wrong, is something the matter?"

It's then the words get stuck in his throat. All of the "yes, I can't forget tonight"s and the "I think maybe I should have died that day"s are lodged in the back of his throat. Billy Hargrove is stubborn; there's no chance in hell he is going to tell you the truth. No way he is going to let others really know. Though, he is pretty sure Max kind of knows- she was a lot more observant than he realized till now. 

Sometimes, Billy Hargrove is akin to a caged animal.

He is so used to people not caring. He is used to being hit for the small things and the big things; like the time he got a D on his history essay, or the time Max went missing. That is what he is used to. Telling the truth about how he feels is not in his vocabulary, and he isn't sure how to respond when someone opens the cage that he has been confined to for so long; scared that if he steps out, it is the wrong choice, and that choice means punishment. He doesn't trust, but he wants to. He doesn't want to seem weak, but sometimes, he truly is. 

"No," he scoffs into the phone as if he wasn't the one who called so late, but you were, "It's nothing, I just..."

Just what? He can't find an excuse. He can't understand himself.

You're wide awake on your end now. If he could see you, he would've seen the way your face softened, eyes half-closing as your brows dipped in sad understanding. He doesn't need to speak for you to know. He is good at hiding, that you figured out, but not good enough because you can hear it in his voice, the way he speaks as he might just start either screaming or crying at the drop of a pen. The way his voice softens immediately after he says no, down to a low whisper, like he is trying to just disappear. The rattle in his breathing that he doesn't even realize himself like he still can't catch his breath properly.  

He is hurting. He is scared. You know he is. Nightmares aren't uncommon to you, but you're sure the ones he gets must be even worse than the ones you do, and they must be almost constant. If you were there, you would've wrapped his larger frame into your smaller one and tried to comfort him, but you were miles away in your room. 

"It's okay," you finally respond after he loses his voice, his brows furrow, "I mean... It isn't okay, how could it be, after everything?"

Billy doesn't respond, only holds the receiver tighter in his hand, almost thinking it might break. 

"I just mean that it's okay to talk about it," you continue after his silence, "you don't need to talk about it at all if you don't want to Billy. But I want to listen if you ever do, and I think Max would too."

You hear a small snort. Billy isn't so sure Max would want to listen. Maybe she would, their relationship had been doing leaps and bounds better than before. Billy never hated his step-sister; in his own twisted ways he loved her, but he hated that it was her mother's marriage to his father that took him away from California- one of the last things in his life Billy could say he truly loved at the time. He's horrible with his words still when it comes to talking to Max or most anyone about anything that troubles him, or saying sorry (which he has- it's just been very awkward and he just can't seem to get it right, not the way he wants to) and he just wishes he could explain why. Why he is how he is, or how he was- still kind of is- someone like him isn't so easy to break and mold, especially with his father still in his life. But he wants to try. He is trying. 

"She would," you insist, "I know it's tough between you two still sometimes, and you're both trying to navigate the relationship you both want, but she cares. Like you do. It's just hard for both of you."

Billy thinks about what you're saying in silence again. His actions define him, and they continue to do so every day. Saving the kids and you, and Steve, Nancy- the whole gaggle of people- that night has defined him as well, but it is muddied behind his other actions, ones he had taken out of anger or fear. The time he almost ran over Max's friends comes to mind; he wasn't ever going to do it, but that is their first memory of him. How he treated Max as a whole; the only times he was (almost) not under his father's foot. Or the time he threatened Lucas Sinclair; as much as he didn't want to admit it, it was as much for Max as it was for himself- or so he believed it was. 

He saw her upset- and as her older step-brother (albeit an unwilling one) he didn't like that. But even more than that, his mind immediately went to his father. Neil Hargrove wasn't a good man, never had been, never would be. Good at acting like a nice guy; it was how he scored Susan, and he assumed his mother too initially. If someone hurt Max, if Max was upset by someone at school, and Neil saw, or Susan, who would inevitably tell Neil, it would be his fault. 

Max fell into his lap, his father would reign hell on him for anything bad in any way that happened to Max because of the fact she was Susan's daughter. He didn't hit Max, but he'd hit Billy because of Max, maybe even in place of her at times, he didn't know. He was glad he never actually touched her, however. Not to mention his father was racist. Lucas Sinclair being near Max, and his father finding out? It would somehow come back down to Billy. And maybe even Max wouldn't be spared from his anger.

There was a bitter part of him towards his sister sometimes too in that aspect even if it wasn't her fault that his father chose to use Max as more cannon fodder to hurt him. But she never really took that into account when she did things like running out the window, leaving him to pick up the pieces. He always picked up those pieces. 

The conversation between the two of you was one-sided at this point, not that you minded, nor did he because he still didn't know what he was supposed to be saying.

"I know things are hard right now. I know it has to be hurting a lot still, and I can't even tell you when or if that hurt will ever stop. Maybe it won't, maybe it will just dull with time but always be there, or maybe one day it will just be a distant memory. I don't know. But you do have people who care, Billy, I care. Try to sleep, if you can. I'll be just a phone call away anyways if you need someone to talk to. Or to talk your ear off; I hear I'm pretty good at that." 

That elicits a single hoarse chuckle from his chapped lips. He told you that once. He licks them as he takes in a breath. 

"Yeah... G'night." 

"Goodnight Billy." 

Even after he hears the click of you hanging up, he still holds the phone to his ear. He notes that his breathing has evened out considerably and that his muscles are looser than before. His chest still aches slightly with the phantom pain, but it doesn't feel like he is there with that thing in his body again anymore. He's actually sort of cold from the way the cold sweat he had woken up in soaks his sleep clothes; he knows he's taking a hot shower before he lays back down. 

It's in those moments, between him finally letting the phone sit back down onto the receiver, and getting ready to move to the bathroom to shower, that he realizes. He realizes you knew all along; well, clearly you did, because you knew what to say exactly when he didn't even say it himself. You noticed he was suffering, and likely always had. When it came to you, Billy Hargrove was naked even when he was fully dressed- you saw through him. 

And he didn't hate it like he thought he would. 

You were something special. Someone who had made him feel... Loved. 

He was almost sure that if you hadn't been there if you hadn't cared for him as you had even when he was a complete and utter piece of crap, then he would actually have died in that mall. He just needed someone to try for him, and always believe in him even when that monster was using his body as its little puppet, and that was you. 

Billy Hargrove couldn't imagine a future that didn't have you in it. And he had to do something about that. 

_____

It had been a week since Billy had called you in the middle of the night. He'd seen you a few times since, mainly when he was dropping Max off to the Arcade which you happened to work out; the kids were once again subject to the arcade in town and the little shops around there now that Starcourt had been 'destroyed by a fire.' 

But those were only small moments, moments where you had a minute to say hello and ask what he was doing that day, and then you were off again and so was he. But he knew what he wanted, and what he wanted was you. All he needed to do was admit it to you. So, on a day he knew you wouldn't be working, he took his beloved Camaro and started the drive to your home.

Billy didn't worry about if your parents answered the door or not, because he was good at charming people. He was good at making good impressions when he wanted to, it was how he got Mrs. Wheeler to bend like putty. But he wouldn't be flirting with your mom. 

The way to your home took him through part of town, the part that had the silly little movie theatre that paled in comparison to the one Starcourt had, or even any of the ones he had been to in California. But that was the price you pay for a small town, an interdimensional being, and the Russians in the only big mall Hawkins had had. 

Maybe if things went well, he'd take you to that small theatre and-

The stop light turned red, forcing Billy to stop his Camaro right beside the theatre. It wasn't a problem, or it wouldn't have been, if he didn't see Steve Harrington walk out of the stupid little theatre with you by his side, smiling and talking animatedly. 

You weren't his. So he had no right to feel how he did in that moment. To feel the blood pumping in his veins, in his ears, to feel it boil like hot water on the stove. To feel the sudden nausea he'd feel when he woke up from a dream that was far, far too real. To feel jealous. The burning jealousy in the pit of his stomach gnarled together with the other feelings he felt, and the moment the red light turned green, he hit the gas not caring how over the speed limit he was going. He did that anyways, he liked to drive fast, but now it was for a whole other reason.

Tanned fingers held the steering wheel with newfound emotion; it hurt. He hated the hurt. He didn't want to go home, he didn't want to anywhere. So instead, he just drove off towards Lovers Lake and sat in his Camaro.

At first, he had his music blaring on the radio. Max always said that he would go deaf someday because of how loud he played his music. She also said that he was probably already going deaf whenever he didn't listen to her. It always earned Max a half glare and a look of annoyance and the title of shitbird.

But what people didn't really understand was that sometimes, when he played the music loud enough (especially in recent months) it would deafen out the rest of the world and even his own thoughts. It was in those moments, listening to his favourite songs on painfully loud volumes that he wasn't anyone, he was just a guy listening to music.

Not that he'd ever tell anyone that. It sounded deeper than it really needed to be, and he'd rather leave it at just being the bad boy who liked his music way too loud for his own good.

Eventually, the music would run its course. For hours, he listened to the same tapes of music he enjoyed. But now it was just loud and did nothing. Now, it was just loud background noise to the hurt and anger in his chest. In his head.

He really needed to learn how to cope better.

Billy had never been on good terms with Steve Harrington, and he was fairly certain if it had been anyone else with you, he wouldn't have been as upset as he was. He'd still be upset, sure, but something about Steve Harrington scratched at the sorest parts of his brain and triggered an annoyance unbridled.

At first, he wasn't even sure what it was about Steve that got on his nerves. But it was over time, and more recently (everything, he realized seemed to happen so much more recently) that he started to figure it out. It wasn't that he was a popular kid before and now he was quote en quote, nothing. It was jealousy.

Billy realized he felt jealous quite a bit it seemed.

Jealousy for the fact that even if he wasn't King of Hawkins anymore and that the title had been snatched by Billy, he seemed happy still. Jealousy over the fact that he had gotten away from people like Tommy and Carol. Sheep, followers, who never really cared about you as a person but only your popularity and what it had to offer.

Jealousy because he was angry. Angry in general, at the world, and the people in it, and Steve Harrington became the easier target for Billy's overflowing negative emotions that he couldn't find a place to put.

After Starcourt, after everything, the feelings simmered. But they still remained, it was hard for Billy to change his feelings. Especially seeing how people liked Steve and were friends with him for that. Not to mention, that night with Max disappearing, and then Steve lying about it and insinuating he was dumb even though he could see Max in the window? It still bugged him.

But seeing him with you had sparked the fire in his belly again. It was as if every feeling he had tried to quash towards the man had come back tenfold.

Steve Harrington was going to get you. He was going to have someone that Billy actually wanted. Someone that he didn't just look at with lust- one of the first people to ever show him care, and Steve was going to snatch that.

Progress be damned, being nice and not letting his anger or jealousy override him be damned as well- he had to tell you. He wanted you to be his. And if it didn't work out, well, he'd cross that road when he got there he supposed.

That's what he usually did.

___

The music in your room was on a low volume, not wanting to wake your family members in the other rooms. It was late, and you were finally winding down for the night.

It had been a long day, one that left your feet aching a bit, but it was a good pain. One that told you that you'd accomplished a lot during the day.

You fully intended to relax on your bed for a bit, reading a book and listening to the music on your small stereo, dressed in your comfortable pajamas. Maybe you'd grab a snack too, and-

The sound of something tapping on your window made you freeze. Immediate thoughts were full of sudden fear, almost like your body was preparing itself for the flight or fight response. It had become something your body did without much thought, solely because of the past events that haunted Hawkins that very select people knew about. It had been quiet for a few months now since Starcourt, but you had learned to never really truly trust Hawkins to be completely normal. 

Internally you knew that you were overreacting in the moment, so you reminded yourself it was fine; probably wind, or maybe a tree branch near your room hitting the windows. But it didn't hurt to check the window. You were glad to have done so because what you weren't expecting to see was Billy Hargrove at your window, looking at you with an unimpressed look in his eyes- waiting for you to open the window.

Which you did, quickly at that.

"What are you doing?!"  with the window open, Billy hauled himself up and into your room as you moved to the side, holding your arms out to help him in case he needed it; you doubted he did, you doubted he would want you to help him too much either. 

"You have a tall ass window," Billy groaned as he lifted himself into your room, booted feet meeting the wooden floor with a soft thud. 

"Cause it isn't meant to be climbed into!" 

Not wanting to wake anyone in your home, you hissed when you spoke, closing the window softly behind him. With him in your room, your immediate thought was to check him over, to check if he was hurt in some way, shape, or form that was visible to the naked eye. 

People knew. People knew now what went on with him at home, and it wasn't Max who told them, it was technically Eleven, when she looked into his memories, his mind. You had suspicions before; he was someone you cared about, your friend, and his father had never been someone Billy mentioned fondly. He wasn't even someone Billy would mention unless he had to. 

Bruises that hadn't been there before, or tired eyes that were past tired and held an emptiness that was much more telling than maybe he realized. Those were signs, those were things you looked for and always had whether he noticed or not. 

"Are you checking me out?" he suddenly asked, as your eyes finished a final sweep of his body. The smirk on his lips made your face heat up, and well, it did kind of look that way, didn't it? 

"What? No- I was just, well..." you couldn't exactly say it because you didn't know how he would feel about the fact you were looking at him, inspecting him, for any sign of his fathers abuse. It was a sore subject, it wasn't something he liked multiple people knowing. 

He rolled his eyes. He either knew, or your hesitance annoyed him. Sometimes it was hard to tell with Billy. 

"I don't blame you," he chose to continue the line of conversation, moving to examine your room. He'd been there before, in high school, when you both hadan asignment together. But he never really took it in; it was simple but suited you. 

"You're insufferable sometimes, you know that?" 

Billy still has the smirk on his face but doesn't respond. It's odd. For the time you have known him, Billy Hargrove has never been the type of man to stay quiet in these situations, never the guy to back down first in a game of sarcasm and witts- and never ever to back down from flirting with anyone he initiates it with. 

You're worried. And Billy sees it in your eyes; it's another reminder to him for why he is here. 

"Is something wrong?" you speak softly now, moving to turn the stereo volume down completely. It's still a bit jarring that he's in your room nearing the middle of the night, but you had let him in, and you had no reason to turn him away. Not with everything.

"Why would something be wrong?" he was bluffing- you weren't stupid. 

"It's almost the middle of the night," you point out, leaning forward on your bed to peer into his face, "and you came to my window." 

"Nothings wrong, jesus." 

Silence again. 

"Saw you while I was out today."

The way he spoke was suddenly a bit more serious, a bit cooler, a bit more fenced off.

"Oh? Why didn't you come over and say hey?"

"You were with Harrington."

Oh.

The way Billy said Steve's last name was like he was talking about a bug he had seen or like he had seen something that made him sick.

"I was headed to find you, and you were with that shithead."

You shot him a look, he sort of made it sound like whatever was wrong was your fault or your being with Steve when he went to find you was an offense towards him. He also didn't need to call Steve names, but that likely wasn't going to change, even with the two of them on more neutral terms.

"Is that the problem?" You probed, mild annoyance on your face, "that you wanted to see me but I was with Steve? You couldn't just... Talk to us both, but Steve was there?"

"Seriously?"

Billy knew he was struggling in that moment with what he came here for. He was still angry, upset. He still struggled with his words and he was surprised it hadn't been the death of him at this point.

"Well, yea? What's your issue with Steve still, Billy it doesn't-"

"That isn't the problem, Jesus christ! It isn't just that I wanted to go talk to you and you were out with him. The problem is that you go around and make me feel these stupid fucking feelings I don't know what to do with, and I see you on a fucking date with a guy like Harrington!"

Oh. Oh. 

There was something deeper about this, you knew from the start, but that wasn't the deep you thought it would be. Having Billy be at Steve's neck was something you expected. It was something you had grown accustomed to after everything, especially Starcourt. They could play nice with one another- well, as nice as they could. It was mainly Billy. 

"That-" you pause, frozen sort of, if what he was insinuating was true, the he... "A date, with Steve?"

"The theatre." 

He said it like you didn't know the word, and like he was losing patience. With you, or himself, you couldn't quite tell. Maybe both. You don't want to get angry with him because you know that will only escalate things further and if you antogonize him now, you may never get a proper answer or response out of him- and your family might just come barging in because of all the noise. 

"You don't have to say it," he suddenly throws his head back, looking at your ceiling before bringing his head back down, his blue eyes looking directly in yours, and he looks tired, "It's his stupid fucking hair isn't it? Or whatever the fuck there is about him, I don't know. I came here with a purpose, to tell you, to make you mine. My girl. But-"

He lets out a breathe, an angry one, a frustrated one, one that could blow down a not too sturdy house if given the chance.  

"What the fuck am I doing," he said it to himself mostly, but how could you not hear him, he was right there. 

"Billy..." you want to reach out for him, to help, to make things better, but he's already pulling himself away.

He's good at that, pulling himself away. 

"I gotta go, before my dad decides he wants to check if I'm in my room," he bitterly says, "crazy how he wants to seem like a parent sometimes; piece of shit." It had become quite apparent after Starcourt and Billy's almost death that his father was trying harder to put up appearances; he was still the same man, same abusive piece of shit, but now more people were aware. And that meant something.

Given everything, it was a shot in the dark for you to reach out and grab his wrist. Given his emotions, and the issues with his father, it really could have went one of two ways; he could've reacted badly like a caged animal, or he could've let it happen. 

Thankfully it was the latter. 

"No, don't," you spoke softly, a hint of pleading in your voice. His wrist is bigger than you realized as your fingers wrap around it; he has a watch on you note and his skin is warm, "Stay. We can talk about this, we should talk about it."

It stops him, you're surprised it does, but he looks at you, incredulous. To him, in that moment, there is nothing to talk about; he has likely made a fool of himself, his emotions always getting the better when he really needs them to stay down. His intention to make you his was gone the moment he came, because when he looks at you and thinks about it, about everything that has happened, he finds himself thinking- god forbid Steve Harrington finds out about this- that maybe he's the better choice.

Not because Steve Harrington is more attractive than him, or that Billy thinks he can't pull someone like you; he's always been fairly confident in himself on the outside. But things are different now. And there's something in him deeper that's more broken than it was before in some ways, he didn't think that was possible. Someone like you? You would only give him kindess, one that he's sure he'd somehow fuck up. He will ruin you like his dad ruined his mom. How can he be anything right now when his thoughts are plagued with a interdimensional being that should have killed him. 

He should be dead. 

"Y'see," he starts, already preparing to rip himself away, "I don't think there is. This was a shit idea." 

"I wasn't on a date with Steve!"

It's the only thing you can think to say in that moment to stop him from leaving, because you don't want him to leave. You don't want him to go back to his father right now, or sit in his car somewhere in the dark, alone with thoughts that he so desperately wants to hide but overtime it begins to crack because one can't stay hidden forever. Especially not with the trauma he was holding onto. 

It works, because he isn't moving anymore. Rigid like a board.

"I wasn't on a date with Steve," you repreat in a more calm and even voice now, dragging on his wrist to pull him away from a window, scared that he might just jump out of it anyway if you're not careful, "Steve, he... Sure, he asked me out before, I said no. That was forever ago, and I think he just wanted something to distract himself from Nancy, to feel like he moved on. But he's my friend still, and we were just going to see a movie. That's all that was. I don't like Steve that way."

The unspoken 'but I like you that way' is in the air but you haven't said it. For everything that happened between you and Billy, you're scared. You cared for him, more than some people thought you should. But you had never been one to let people's first interactions define them for the rest of their lives; it was a good thing you felt that way because if you hadn't then you could've very easily been like everyone else who saw him as Billy Hargrove: Asshole, King of the Keg and Hawkins, seriel flirter who was just bad. 

It's sudden, but his large hands are suddenly cupping the back of your neck and head. He's gentle, but there's a forcefullness within his touch that makes a tingle run down your spine. Forced to look into his eyes deeply, you see so much. Eyes that he liked to keep empty are full of emotion in front of you. 

"All I'm hearing," his voice is low, husky, something only you would be able to hear if there was anyone else in the room with you, "is that I have a chance." 

It's so like him. So like him to make it a little less serious than it is. It's definitely a mechanism to dodge the conversations that might just make him uncomfortable, the ones he isn't used to or maybe hasn't even had. And that's okay right now, you'll let him have that for now. 

"And that you jumped the gun," you offer back slyly, "it's kind of cute. You'll have to work on it though... And work on having some heart to hearts." 

It's a subtle confirmation that you want him. You want him too, like how he wants you. And if he was anyone but himself, it might've made him cry. But instead, it just makes his smirk grow; no, not a smirk, it's a smile. He's so beautiful when he smiles. You wonder if anyone has ever told him he's beautiful; you add it to your list of things to tell him at some point. He's beautiful. 

"Cute? You're killing me babe," he whines like he's a child, but you can see how giddy he secretly is inside and it only reaffirms what you said to yourself, "...I'll work on it."

"You deserve to be happy. And we can work on it, together."

Again. Its like you've read through him. Like you saw his thoughts and feelings on thinking maybe he should've died. Or feeling like he can't have this because he will just ruin it. There are no words he can scrounge up as his heart beats heavy in his chest. He can only put his forehead against yours.

It's silent for a few beats as he keeps his hands on the back of your neck, his head tilted down towards yours. It's odd to see him act that way, but it's not a bad odd. It's good. You want to see it more. 

"So... My girl?"

He sounds so cocky, it makes you roll your eyes.

"Your girl." 

I hate that there's barely any fanfics or fans for this game :,((

nsfw

He finally- after months of fucking his fist with you on his mind- has you underneath him, clad in nothing but his old tshirt and legs lifted over his broad shoulders; he slides in you with a delighted shiver.

Only sliding in seemed a bit too easy— considering you were a virgin. And his first thought is to grit his teeth and bare them angrily because you’re his. He made fucking sure of it- no one should’ve touched you because you. are. his.

But his clenched jaw loosens at your shaky touch, mouth falling slack when you whimper out a small “p-prepped myself b-before you g-got here…wanted you, wanted all of you…please keep going!”

And he groans, unrestrained and near desperate, “Oh? You stuffed your tiny little fingers in your pretty hole just for me? Next time you’ll let me watch, wontcha? Gotta see it— fuck I wanna see you prep yourself for my cock- only mine- you understand? Yeah? That’s right baby, now scream it. I want the fuckin neighbors to hear who you belong to.”

Draken, Ran, SHINICHIRO, Wakasa, Izana, AOMINE, Himuro, Imayoshi, DAZAI, Chuuya, Nikolai, GRIMMJOW, Ichigo/Hichigo, TOJI, GOJO, GETO, Noritoshi, Tengen, SANEMI, Akaza, Gyutaro, TSUKISHIMA, Kuroo, Iwaizumi, Atsumu/Osamu, or ur fav <3