#SGA: Instinct | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

queers-gambit · 8 months

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When The World Seems So Cruel

prompt: ( requested ) Billy knows something's bothering his girl, so, he follows his instincts and checks on her - family, friends, and slutty cheerleaders in bikinis be damned.

pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

word count: 5.1k+

warnings: cursing, smut 'cause why not, boys being assholes 'cause they're losers, misogyny, toxic / abusive / neglectful family, description of background violence, angst, did Cherry really write it if there wasn't a helluva lot of projection and need for revocation of internet access?

"Miss Cahill? I'm sorry to interrupt," you half-smiled at your math professor, "but I was just wondering if you still had my test? I never got mine back."

"Right," she cleared her throat, glancing around your body to see most of the class empty at that point. "I wanted to talk to you about that," she paused to pull out your test from a manilla folder. "I was very shocked to grade this under your name, honey, you're usually such a well-focused and high-achievin' student, I mean, you're on track for the Nat Scholarship! So, to see this... Was shockin', it's... Not your best work," she winced, handing the packet over.

You blinked in shock, frowning as anxiety mounted in your chest when you saw the glaring F in red marker. You mumbled in embarrassment, "I guess I've just been off my game..."

"Honey," Miss Cahill sighed in her light country accent, leaning on her desk with both fists so your eyes met hers, "I can always tell when one of my students is goin' through somethin' at home."

You froze, shaking your head, "No, no, it's not... It's not so bad."

"What's goin' on?"

You shrugged, "I've just been... Really tired," you decided on excusing, hoping beyond hope it was enough.

It wasn't, of course it wasn't. Miss Cahill just sighed and offered, "I can let you retake the test next week - but only after you go see the guidance counselor."

"Right... Um, yeah, okay, yeah, sounds good; um, thanks, Miss Cahill."

You made an escape, distracted by the third failing test you received this week; nearly barreling straight into a meaty, solid chest. "Woah, hey, no need to run 'round lookin' for the man of your dreams, I'm right here, doll," Billy teased, hands grabbing your upper arms to steady you. "What's got you inna rush, baby? You know I pick you up after this class."

You smiled in brief distraction, "Yeah, sorry, baby, I was just thinking about this essay coming up. Hi," you offered, stretching up on your toes to kiss him in greeting. "How're you?"

He half-smirked, "I'm good, you know Mr. Brunson's got a stick up his ass as usual."

"Mhm. As usual, and totally has nothing to do with you provoking him," you teased, latching onto his waist as you shoved your test deep in your shoulder-bag. You neared his locker, and you managed to choke out, "Hey, um... Y-You wanna get outta here?"

Billy offered you a look of mild confusion, smirking with a strange laugh, "You wanna ditch school?"

"Maybe."

"Why?"

"I'm just tired," you offered meekly, "I feel like I haven't slept in a week."

Billy lead you up to his locker, hand on your waist to keep you close as he mused, "This feels like a setup."

"It's not, I promise."

He yanked the metal door open, "Uh-huh. You told me when I met you that I'd have to practically kidnap you to get you to skip class. Huh? 'Member all that? All them lectures you gave me 'bout the importance of goin' t'class if I wanna do anything after this shithole?"

"Yeah, but things change, Bee."

Billy's face dropped, shoving his books into his open locker before turning, leaning his shoulder on the locker next to his, arms crossed as he stared at you. "What's wrong?" He questioned sharply.

"Billy, I'm just tired."

"No, it's something else. What's wrong? What's goin' on?"

You sighed, "You know what? It's okay, nevermind, I actually promised Eddie that I'd help him make those banners for SGA during lunch today, so," you glanced around, "I'm gonna go."

"Nah, baby, hol' up, I ain't mean - "

"I know, handsome," you promised softly, nodding as you reached for his waist to give a squeeze and keep him close. "I just forgot I told a friend I'd help them out, so, I'll just see you after, yeah?"

One hand rose to pet over your cheek, sighing, "You sure you're good? You don't look okay, sugar."

"I'm good," you nodded, deflating into his embrace and hearing him chuckle. "I'm just stretched thin this week, probably shouldn't make promises to my delinquent friends with all the college drama to worry about."

"What'd Munson do this time to only get banner-duty? Huh?"

"Probably got caught skipping or something," you mumbled against his pectoral; inhaling the scent of his mall-bought cologne and finding it a refreshing change from the CVS-brand he used when you first met. "School did something right by makin' everyone in detention serve the SGA for all their shit."

"Definitely got me to shape up," he joked, pecking the top of your head before finishing, "but I mostly missed out on time with you."

"Hey... I was thinking, maybe I can come over this weekend? Keep Max company, maybe keep Neil at bay? Can have a sleepover, too, if you want."

Now Billy's head cocked and his expression hardened, "The fuck you wanna come over for? You know how tense shit gets - "

"Billy."

"Nah, you're not makin' sense, pretty girl," he snapped, pulling back to stare down at you. "What's going on with you? You don't wanna be at home or something? The fuck's goin' on that's so bad you'd rather be at my place?"

You felt tongue tied, but the bell rang shrilly and literally saved you from needing to answer. "Shit, I gotta run, baby. I'll find you later, okay?" You promised, lifting onto your toes to kiss him, promising, "I love you."

He frowned, grumbling, "Yeah, love you, too." He watched you vacate the hall, his mind basically going blank to all other thought beside you. The entire lunch period, he sat on the hood of his car, chain smoking, wondering where he went wrong; what he did to upset you; what could be going on and most importantly, why you couldn't say anything to him about it.

However, after lunch, Billy found you in the library's designated SGA room and thought you appeared ten times as relaxed, laughing with Eddie Munson. When the punk caught Billy's eye, he nodded in respect; gesturing for you to look, and your head turned with a smile. You parted from Eddie and trotted up to Billy, feeling relieved when he grabbed you in a possessive hold; searing his lips to yours.

"Hi," you giggled.

"You seem happy."

"Kinda hard to be in a bad mood around Eddie."

"I can see," he lead you away. He wanted to bring back up about whatever was bothering you, but didn't; fearing ruining your joyful mood. Instead, his fingers just tangled with yours and you entered history together.

What should've been a decently peaceful class turned into a state of confusion for you and Billy when the intercom kicked on, the front office asking for your presence with the principal. Billy glared at the speaker box as you cast him a look of doubt, both confused by the summons; being all too used to them calling his name instead. All of history passed miserably; Billy alone without his favorite person to keep him on track and becoming antsy the longer you were gone. When you didn't return by the end of class, he grabbed anything you left and begrudgingly went to the last two classes of the day.

When the final bell rang, Billy waited for you at his car for a solid 25 minutes with several cigarettes being burned, but when you still didn't show, he grew worried. So, he stored everything in his Camaro, not needing to worry about his sister because Max got a ride home with her new bestie, Jane, and her father, Jim Hopper, and stormed through the school. Anger radiated off his very being, nearly stomping his steps, and just before he got to the front lobby, he saw you exiting the office.

You didn't notice him at first, and for a moment, Billy thought you were going to hurl whatever was on your stomach as you held a few pieces of paper in shaking hands. "Baby," he called your attention, finding your eyes light up at the sight of him. "The hell's goin' on? You were gone the rest of the day, I got worried."

"Yeah, it was some shit wrong with my college applications, but we got it straightened out," you lied, stepping into his embrace. "I'm sorry I worried you, handsome."

He met your lips in a kiss, promising, "Not your fault. C'mon, day's over, our weekend can start once we get the hell outta here."

"Hmm," you hummed dreamily. "Lemme go to my locker and we can get gone."

Billy didn't mind waiting, and when you were done at your locker, he escorted you to his car; only a few students still lingering after hours. He opened your passenger door, winking at you, then quickly jogged to his side and slid in. "C'mere," he breathed, reaching for your cheek instantly; hand sliding along the back of your neck and bringing you in close.

You moaned when Billy's lips molded to yours; all but instantly salivating when his tongue tangled with your own in a messy dance. You had a few rules about PDA, especially in school; but being in his car was neural territory and Billy needed a way to expel his neediness. Praising God for making today steadily warm and that you wore a skirt, you were ready to cry when Billy's hand came down to grip the meat of your thigh.

"Billy," you rushed when his hand traveled under your skirt to ghost over your panties.

"Nobody's here t'watch," he smirked. "C'mon, lemme do this for you, pretty girl. You don't wanna go home yet, right? Ain't got some curfew?"

"Nope," you surged forward to slam your lips to his, moaning when his hand now confidently pet your panties as your legs spread all the wider to encourage him.

"Good girl," he praised quickly, skimming the apex of your thigh to hook your panties and pull them to the side. "Mhm," he hummed with a cocky smirk, "I knew you liked getting fucked in public. Feel how fuckin' wet you are - shit, Goddamn."

You mewled; tension mounting as you tightened up from the stoking pleasure. "Billy - " You gasped when he plunged his fingers into your cunt, easily sliding in due to your arousal. "Ohhh, fuck," you breathed, eyes shut and mouth agape in pleasure, "needed this - needed this so bad. Just needed you."

"You'll get so much more, baby."

You whimpered, "Now, please. Please, please, please."

He smirked, "Wanna get in the back or ride me, princess? Huh? Tell me what you need."

Your eyes locked with his as you thought it over, but then, you smirked as you readjust the passenger seat and turned so your ass was propped up. It gave him a full view of your messy cunt; panties askew from his previous motions and fluid rubbed all around. Billy reached out with one hand to plunge his pointer and middle finger back into your core, the other wrangling open his belt, button, and jean zipper in frantic movements.

He shimmied from the garments and sat up, following your lead in adjusting his seat. He instantly mounted behind you over the center console, licking his palm and stroking his himself to life as he drug his cockhead up and down your wetness.

Billy reached out to move your panties once more, line himself up, and plunge full-hilt. You gasped and grunted, letting yourself be shoved forward a little to catch on the seat; Billy hissing between his teeth as your warmth enveloped him in a sticky-wetness. "Hang on, doll, ah, fuck, there we go," he chuckled, readjusting his position before starting to move his hips to create the most delicious friction.

"Fuuuuck, Billy!" You whined when he held both your hips with only one hand keeping your panties to the side.

"Needed this, too," he chuckled. "Good girl, fuckin' taking me so well. You'd let me do anything, wouldn't you? Fuck you however I want to, huh? Yeah," he lifted one hand to smack the meat of your bottom, creating a ripple; liking the way you twitched and delivered two more, finishing, "I know my pretty baby would let me do whatever I fucking wanted with her - " he clenched his teeth, hips punctuating his words, "'cause she was fuckin' made for me."

"Yes," you moaned, mind blank from all the previous drama of your day; ready to weep like a bitch in heat, "anything, baby, yes, yes, yes, anything you want."

"Good girl," he laughed ruefully; picking up the pace to fuck you outta your mind as he ensured you felt every throbbing vein of his engorged cock. He chased his own orgasm as you were charged with your own; hand reaching for your clit to start applying pressure in tight circles. "Let me cum in you, sweetheart. C'mon, baby, tell me I can cum in you - in this pretty pussy - in my pretty pussy - lemme fuckin' cum in you."

"Billy, fuck - yes, baby, yes! Yes, harder, please, fuck me harder and you can cum wherever you want."

"Even your ass?"

"Yes, Daddy, yes, anything you want! Fuck my ass full of your cum, please, fuck, I need it! Whatever you want, I need. Please!"

Billy's golden curls stuck to his forehead and neck, entire car rocking with frantic, animalistic movements - but anyone lingering around the school to see it wasn't surprised. Billy felt like he went faster than usual, that he got a little rougher; but he was nearing his end and it was hard to keep pace. When you cried out and legs shook from your flash-bang of an orgasm, he knew you had finished and could focus on his own; never pulling out.

He'd fuck your ass later.

"Fuck!" Billy came with a shout; shooting hot, salty, opaque white ropes of cum into your quivering cunt. He stuttered his hips into the meat of your ass, balls contracting; emptying himself inside you as you relished in the feeling of his warmth flooding your lower belly. He chuckled, mocking, "Might just have to get you off that pill so I can get you fucking pregnant already."

"Whatever Daddy wants."

Billy laughed as he pulled out of you slowly, instantly turning again to crash into his driver seat. You went a little limp but managed to turn over, both panting as the windows were fogged up; but aired out when Billy rolled two down to light up his cigarette. "So," he spoke through his inhale and deep breaths, "you wanna tell me whats wrong now?"

"Hmm?"

"Why're you so distracted? Distant? Even with me?"

You felt panicked by the confrontation, resorting to your last line of defense. "Just dealing with a lot," you answered as your legs spread as wide as you could to start toying with your beaten-pussy. He watched with a stoic expression as you used your fingers to stuff his dripping-cum back inside you. "'S been stressful, guess I just had a bad day," you whined lightly, still playing.

"Fuck's sake."

"Hmm?" You feigned innocence.

"You're just askin' for it, huh?"

"Maybe," you pouted, "or maybe I just need your cum - "

"Cut it out, we gotta go," he snickered, turning the key in the ignition. "Your dad hates me enough, can't have you late for family dinner."

You went quiet as your thoughts were plagued with a screaming voice that begged Billy to just read your mind and understand what was wrong - why you were so upset, so panicked. But you knew better. So, you flipped down your skirt and readjusted yourself, sucking your fingers of his cum before letting his hand tangle with one of yours on your lap.

"Maybe you'd wanna come over tonight?" You asked softly. "Go see a movie or something?"

"You never wanna go out on Friday nights," he chuckled, but something felt terribly wrong about the notion. "You do homework and study on Friday and Sunday nights, you said it was a relationship rule, huh?"

"Things can change," you pouted.

"I told Tommy and Ryan I'd hang with them and the guys tonight," Billy spoke slowly. "But I can cancel if you - "

"No, no, don't," you shook your head, "go see your friends. 'Cause I'll see you in the morning, right?"

"Right."

"And I can stay the night... Right?"

Billy nodded, "Anytime you want, baby, yeah."

"Okay, cool," you spoke softly, deflating in his seat when he pulled up to your house. "Um..." You stared up at the home as if it were haunted. "Do you wanna come in for a little?"

His head tilted and brows furrowed, "I have to pick up Max from Hopper's, remember?"

"Right!" You gaped, but didn't move.

"What's wrong?" He asked with a hardened tone, making you gulp lightly. "You don't wanna go in?"

"I could, like, just go with you?"

"Baby, the fuck's going on? Know I hate repeating myself and shit, so just fucking tell me - maybe I can fucking help."

"Nothing, no, it's just, it's nothing, I'm sorry, I just - I'm sorry," you chuckled. "Guess I'm PMSing and feel clingy or something."

He only hummed as you leaned over to kiss him in parting. Both promised you love each other before you got out, jogging up the driveway and opening the front door; pausing to wave at him and then disappear in the house.

"Yo, dickhead! Hey! Grab me a beer!" Tommy Hagan called to Ryan Sheen as he went to rummage in his uncle's basement fridge. "And grab Billy one, too!"

"Nah, I'm good," Billy refused, glancing at the can in his hand. It was still half-full. He didn't feel like drinking after having time to sit and think about your behavior the past few days, worrying about you more than he wanted to get drunk.

"What?" Tommy laughed obnoxiously, smacking his teeth after. "You don't want a second? What's wrong with you, got some test you gotta study for?" He laughed at his own joke. In Tommy H.'s mind, only fucking losers study on Friday nights.

"Nah," Billy eased, setting his can down as he felt his irritation flare. He was annoyed at Tommy, sure, but also by the idea that something was wrong with you and you didn't trust him enough to say anything. "I actually gotta go, you guys," Billy stood.

"What?" Now Ryan scoffed, slapping a can of beer to Tommy's open hand. "You're not serious, dude! We've only been here, fuckin' what? Half an hour, bro!" He sucked his teeth in annoyance, rolling his eyes, "C'mon, we were going to Alicia's pool party tonight - you're supposed to give us a ride! The fuck's more important than the slutty cheerleaders in bikinis?"

"That Maria chick's been all over you, too," Tommy laughed. "You can't tell us a single thing that's better than Maria Thomas, all soaped up, in that tiny bikini she wore for the car wash. It's all our wet dreams come to life, Billy, you can't seriously consider missing that!"

"Not everybody's desperate to see Maria's tit-job. You know what? Whatever, man, I gotta go see my girl," he tugged his jean jacket on, tugging his blonde curls out of the collar.

Ryan rolled his eyes as Tommy laughed, "No way. Nuh-uh. You're seriously going to fuckin' ditchin' us for that chick?"

"Man, fuck you, guys, I'm ditching your dumbasses for my girl," Billy snapped. "Better what your fucking mouths and how you talk about her."

"Whatever, man. You're just whipped."

"She got you on some leash or some shit? Got you on a curfew like she's your mommy?" Ryan rolled his eyes, groaning, "Seriously, dude, we only see you at practice now!"

"Look, I just know something's up with her, so, I gotta check on - "

"So, what!? She ain't even tell you why she's pissed off? C'mon, man, that is such a stupid fuckin' tactic chicks use to get guys to go crawling back to their spoiled asses! Bitches do the pettiest shit to get us to suck up to them and shit."

Billy turned and easily caught Tommy by the collar of his shirt before he could even let go of his beer can, slamming the loudmouth into the wall as the aluminum can clattered. Ryan and the two other irrelevant guys left in the basement could only freeze, knowing Billy Hargrove's aggression and not wanting to become part of the receiving end.

"I told you to watch your fucking mouth," Billy seethed.

"Fuck offuva me!" Ryan pushed Billy's arms off. "She's just some bitch, bro, you've already fucked most of the school - what's so different with her?"

Billy scoffed, nodding in amusement as he backed off a few steps. "You know? If I wanna go hang with my girl instead of you deadbeat dickheads, 's exactly what I'm gonna do. Not my fault y'all ain't shit and don't know what it means to keep a chick happy."

"Fuck off, Billy! You're so fucking pussy whipped!" Tommy barked. "Ditching us for that crybaby! Dude, it's not even real! She didn't even tell you whatever she's all upset about! You just had a feeling, so, just sit the fuck down, finish your drink, down a fuckin' second beer, and then let's go to the party! See some bitches that are actually worth seeing!"

Billy shook his head, "I ever hear y'all talkin' about my girl like this again," he chuckled dryly, "might be the last time y'all can even form words. Fuck yourselves," he sneered.

Billy didn't hesitate to storm out of the room, ignoring their jeers and sneers about him being "pussy whipped" and all their complaints about him skipping out on being their ride to "the hottest party of the year." The door slammed behind him, rattling a few windows; making a beeline for his Camaro and pausing at the trunk. He found a pair of your sports shoes you'd eventually need, grabbed them in a white-knuckle grip, then got in the driver's seat and peeled away.

When Billy got to your house, he noticed the lights in your bedroom were barely turned on; knowing you didn't like overhead lighting and probably had a string of lights plugged in. On the contrary, the rest of the house seemed wide awake - every single downstairs light turned on. He grabbed your shoes and his school books (left in his backseat) and got out of his parked car, approach the front door, and paused when a barrage of voices suddenly met his ears. He froze.

The screams were full of hate, and while he couldn't make out distinct words, he heard both your mother and father's elevated voices. It was relentless, it was full of anger and hate and confusion and accusations and Billy wasn't sure how long he stood there with his fist raised. With a deep breath, Billy finally knocked at the door... Then again... Then again... And again, using the metal knocker to bang rapidly. He heard the voices lower and stopped knocking; taking a step back, then waited with his best look of indifferent innocence.

When the door ripped open, Billy was greeted by your angry-looking mother, who didn't look at who was at the door when she snarled, "What the fuck do you want!?"

"Uh, yeah, um, hi, ma'am..." Billy waved awkwardly.

"Oh, Billy," she gasped. "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize it was you, sweetie. What's wrong? What - What time - ? Do you know what time it is?"

"Yes, ma'am, I'm sorry to interrupt so late, but nothing is wrong," he assured. "I just know your daughter's a little forgetful when there's a test comin' up," he chuckled, holding up the shoes and his books, "and she promised to help me nail this essay for my college portfolio... Did I use that correctly? Portfolio? She's always tryna broaden my vocabulary," he chuckled smoothly.

She smiled warmly, another victim to his charming influence, "Sure, honey, yes, of course, it's Friday or something, right, of course you can come in. C'mon, c'mon in." She stepped out the way to let Billy enter into the foyer. "Baby Girl's just upstairs in her room," she gestured with a wine glass Billy just noticed towards the staircase as she used your childhood nickname. They paused at the grand bannister, her eyes rolling when there came the muffled pounding of a bass-line from some song turned up to the max. "She's always blasting her music now adays, it'll make her deaf," your mother scoffed, taking a long sip, then waved him up. "Go on, get up there, good luck on your essay."

"Thank you, Miss Lady," he purred with a small smirk; nodding as he then watched her retreat to the sitting room, and barely a moment later, your father was exiting the kitchen.

"Billy," he greeted stiffly, glass of scotch in hand.

"Sir," Billy replied with a nod of respect, stepping out of his shoes (per household rules) to leave your parents at the front of the house's sitting room; beginning his ascent to the second level. He'd been there before, so, locating your room was like muscle memory; knocking when he approached the door and pausing when he only heard blaring music.

Another knock, no answer. So Billy opened your door.

You were sat on the ground, back against your bed, record player spinning, and the window you faced cracked open to waft the cigarette smoke out. His heart clenched when he saw you, your sadness nearly tangible as light made your tear-tracks on your cheeks glitter. "Baby," Billy spoke softly, watching you jump in shock. "Hey, hey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, I tried to knock."

You nodded absently, "Music's on."

"Yeah, 's a good song," he allotted as he shut your door securely and asked, "want it locked?"

"Doesn't lock," you answered robotically, looking back out the window.

"Can I turn the music down, baby, please? Real hard t'hear you."

You nodded and he lowered the volume - but when he did, he understood why you had it so high. Your parents could be heard arguing downstairs, and even with an entire floor between you, it was still loud. So, he turned the music up just a little, frowned, and moved beside you, grunting lightly as his tight jeans constricted while he sat.

"Can I?" He asked, pointing at the cigarette. You handed it over mutely, your usual quip of "it's may I, not can I," nowhere to be heard. After two puffs, he meant to hand it back, but instead, you just fell into his side as if all energy you had to keep you up was depleted; a nearly drowned-out whimper emitting. Billy saw the coffee mug you had been using as an ashtray and dropped the cigarette instantly, using both arms to tug you into his lap.

Billy held you in a fetal position, gently and slowly squeezing you into his chest as he needed to feel you close; and you evidently needed to feel physical love. Billy had to gulp harshly when he felt your tears soak his shirt first, then the jerking of your shoulders; quivering of your body. This long week had finally caught up.

"Baby," he sighed, kissing your forehead. And instead of asking the idiotic and repetitive 'are you okay?', Billy instead just asked in a hush, "Why didn't you tell me it was this bad?"

Through your tears, you answered in a hiccuping-hush, "I didn't want it to be real."

Billy just sighed again, pulling you in tighter so you set under his chin. He let you simply rest, he just wanted to feel close to you... But something caught his eye. About three feet from you was your slumped, turned-over backpack; spewing contents as if it had been tossed aside in a fit of rage. What was interesting, though, was the crumpled pieces of paper; at least one sporting a huge, uppercase F circled in red marker.

"Yeah?" He whispered, sighing as he wanted to bite his tongue but couldn't. "Seems real enough to fuck up your grades though, huh?"

"I can retake the tests."

"You're gonna have to study."

"I know... 'S kinda hard to study here, though. Can't really focus on anything when all that's, you know, going on."

"No shit, Sherlock."

You snorted through your tears, "Don't make me laugh, I'm sad."

He smirked, "Yeah, yeah, all right. Listen, I'll just... We'll go to the library for tonight, and after, we can go to my place. How's that?"

"Thought you weren't allowed overnight visitors?"

"I'm not, but sneakin' inna my place can't be worse than tryna focus while here, right? Gotta be better than listening to this shit."

You nodded against his neck as a distant glass shattered, making you relent, "Touché."

"C'mon," he decided, kissing your forehead again, "pack a bag, baby. You're comin' with me - don't gotta stay here. Not tonight. Gonna come stay with me."

You pulled back just enough to ask, "Yeah?"

"Yeah, pretty girl," he smirked, caressing your cheek. "Might even let you do that green face goop thing you love bothering me about."

"It's an avocado face mask, and when your skin is literally glowing, you can thank me then."

Billy grinned down at you, taking the moment to swoop down and connect your lips in a long kiss; breathing each other in. When a second shatter sounded from downstairs, you flinched away, but Billy was quick to hush, "Hey, hey, hey," and when your eyes met his, he assured, "you're safe with me. Always safe with me." You nodded, tears shining in your eyes. "And you don't ever have to hide these parts of you - not from me. Never from me. I love you, pretty girl," he whispered, "and all parts that make you exactly who you are. Family included."

"I don't deserve you," you whispered.

"Nah, what you don't deserve is dealing with this shit. So, c'mon, get a bag together. We'll come back for what you need later, but get something together for the weekend."

You thanked him with a kiss, and while you got your things together, Billy mutely reached out to examine the pages in his grasp. He sighed, noting the three different failing tests and knew he had to "step up" his "boyfriend game" if he truly wanted to help you; and for the first time, he knew, without any selfish motives, he honestly did. He figured, for all you've done for him, providing you with something akin to a safe environment was a drop in the bucket; shoving those tests back into your school bag, standing, and helping you gather the last of your necessities.

Who needed slutty cheerleaders in soaped-up bikinis when this, right here, was what true love was? Shockingly, not Billy Hargrove.

requesting rules and masterlist

Stranger Things masterlist

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove stranger things #stranger things #stranger things billy #billy stranger things #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x f!reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove one shot #dacre montgomery

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bagheerita · 17 days

Note

ooh!! i love hearing about original works just as much as fanfics!! (im always so impressed cuz original work isnt my wheelhouse) Could you share about 'I can find you in the dark'?

And from the sga wips I'd love to know what 'Jade' is about :3

❤️❤️❤️ woot

Tag Game

This got super long so i will put it under a cut.

In summary:

I Can Find You in the Dark is an SGU fic

I share a different/my only original fic bc you said you like them ❤️

Jade is a fic about my Wraith OC named Jade

~~~~~

So the “non sga” docs aren't original, but other fandoms, sorry if that was confusing.

"I Can Find You in the Dark" is my Stargate Universe Park/Volker/Greer pwp. I started it but lost momentum and need to rewatch s2 before I get back to it. In canon Lisa Park and Ronald Greer are a couple, and Dale Volker has a crush on Lisa and has a “connection” with Ron when Ron is a donor for Dale's kidney transplant, so I just really want to solve all of their problems with polyamory. Also, Lisa is blinded in an accident, so this specific story is about them having sex with the lights off and the men learning to navigate their environment, and specifically each other's bodies, without being able to see.

Exerpt:

Lisa sits, listening.

Ron's hands are on her thighs, his thumb rubbing warmly at the juncture of her hip. His touch makes her feel safe.

"Is this okay?" she hears Dale ask. He's across the room, fiddling with the lights; his voice echoes around the room before it reaches her.

"Depends on how much you don’t want to see," Ron says matter-of-factly. His voice is warm, rumbling up against her knees where he's sitting beside the bed.

She can hear Dale's indecision, but this is his experiment, so she smiles encouragingly. "Whatever you need is fine, Dale," she says.

"Don't get lost on the way to the bed," Ron adds.

Lisa reaches out, finds his head, then smacks him. Not too hard; he barely notices other than to press a kiss of apology to the inside of her knee.

Ron tenses slightly; instinctively wary. Lisa feels the slight cooling of the air that means the lights have been turned off. Dale stumbles over something.

Lisa pouts. She knows Dale means it as a way to try to understand her situation; for her to not feel alone in her darkness. Which is sweet, but she's not sure he's thought it through.

"You okay?" Ron asks.

"Yeah." Dale sounds annoyed, but then she feels the bed move as he sits on it. "At least I thought to not take my shoes off until after," he says, and there's triumph in his voice now, just a little bit, and she loves that. “No stubbed toe or anything.” The bed moves and she hears rustling as he starts taking off his clothes.

Lisa reaches out her hand to him, slowly, seeking him. When she brushes his arm he jumps.

“Oh,” he says, startled. “Sorry. Um, that.”

She’d pulled back but she feels the movement of his hand as it slides past hers in the darkness, and she stops and readjusts herself to meet him. Dale jumps again in surprise, but this time he turns with her and takes her hand. Bringing it to his mouth he kisses her fingers and her palm. “Wow,” he murmurs against her skin and Lisa shivers.

Ron’s hands slide up her sides and along her arm, finding Dale at the end of this path and without needing to flail at all. Lisa smirks against his throat as he reaches past her, and she kisses the back of his head. She hears Dale inhale and then she feels the way his body goes lax, relaxing into Ron’s kiss. She grins fiercely against Ron’s hair and twines her fingers with Dale’s. After a moment she feels Ron turn to her, feels Dale’s hand pull her lightly, and they position her between them. Dale kisses her mouth and Ron kisses the corner of her jaw, working his way down her neck to her collarbones.

********

Because you like original ideas I will also share the other document in my wip folder that I didn't mention at first (because the game seemed more fandom focused). It is my only original work that I consider currently “in progress.” The story has no title as of yet, but the document is called “syras braeden ren.” It's about a pair of mages named Syras and Braeden who have retired and moved to the middle of nowhere to get away from politics. They meet Ren, a young man who is in a lot of trouble. He doesn't want any help at first, but they realize that they need to help him anyway because he is at the crux of a web of issues that goes pretty deep and is connected to some of Braeden's past trauma. They engage on a cross continental journey, running into several old friends and developing a strong relationship between all three of them.

Exerpt:

The wind was cold now that the sun was gone, and Braed pulled his cloak around him more tightly as he followed Syr's black tail by moonlight. The tail was pointed straight up as Syr trotted along with his nose to the ground, but a dark-furred dog wasn't the easiest to see in the dusk, especially when he was headed directly into the forest.

Braed almost lost his footing in a patch of mud, catching himself against a sturdy oak. The tree's leaves were greyish yellow in the darkness, though this time of year they were a dull yellow in bright light as well. "This has better be important," he called to Syr. "If you've dragged me out of a warm bed because Lothian's Eyes glow with a brighter gleam once you're north of Rommy Ford, or some of your usual rot, I might be tempted to violence."

Syr blew air through his nose, expressing his opinion without needing to shift out of his wolfhound's shape to do so. They'd been together long enough that this argument was all placeholders in any case. Syras liked observing phenomena first hand and experiencing events as they happened; Braed much preferred hearing about events afterward and reading articles about megical phenomema in the Quarterly, and preferred both while seated next to a warm fire with his hands wrapped around a mug of che. They'd just come north this past summer, the political unrest in the cities along the coast of the Inerwa Sea making the south rather less plesant for those with no interest in taking sides in the intercity politicking, and Braed was finding the weather along the Glass River more of an adjustment than he'd expected. He'd been born in Bezar on the shores of the Glass Sea, even farther to the north, but he'd spent all his life till now pointed southward.

"And for good reason," he muttered under his breath, though he immediately wanted to take back the uncharitable thought. He was warm, in the cloak that Syras had bought him, and the boots and gloves that Minera had made him after he and Syras had saved her sheep from being cursed to eat nightshade. If his shoes were muddy and his face chilled it wasn't a hardship compared to other parts of his life.

Syr barked once to draw his attention, and moved up out of the trees and onto the road. Braed sighed as he followed, but soon caught sight of Syr's quarry.

A figure, he would guess a young man, was stumbling away from Syr, running as best they could down the road.

"Wait," Braed called. He sighed. "Syras, stop chasing them."

Syr didn't listen but whined in apology, his attention intent on his quarry.

The person didn't listen either, keeping to their stumbling run. They glanced behind and, seeing Braed, with Syr circling around them to attempt to cut them off, darted back off the road and into the trees on the other side.

Braed sighed again. He moved a bit more quickly. Syr wasn't giving up; it would be better to get this over with.

Syr eventually cornered the person between two large trees.

When Braed caught up to them the moon was out full, and he could see the person's face. They appeared human, rather than Karas- though the Karas were not known for their tolerance for "lesser" beings, and one would not have allowed Syras to sport with them in the way that he had. They were thin and their clothing was little more than rags, brown hair matted with dirt. Dark blue eyes stared at Braed with wary fear out of a face as dirty and worn as the person's clothing.

"Greetings," Braed called softly. "We mean you no harm." He glanced at Syras; Syras had given no indication of why he'd selected this apparent runaway for his attentions this night; they were neither philanthropically inclined as a rule, nor obligated to a house or guard to detain runaways. Syr sat now with his eyes fixed on the runaway's bedraggled face. "I apologize for my companion,” Braed said. “He can be rather overbearing when he is focused on something, but I will repeat that we mean you no harm."

The runaway did not appear to believe him, which Braed was not at all surprised about. "We live not far from here," Braed continued, though it was farther than he rather thought someone without shoes should be walking. The runaway's feet were leaving smears of blood on the ground. "If you'd be interested in a hot meal."

The runaway snarled at him, "Stay away from me," and managed to wedge themselves into a crack between the tree trunks and escape Syr's cornering, stumbling off into the forest again.

Syras was apparently not interested in chasing the runaway any farther though, because he shifted to human and cast a sleep spell, dropping the runaway in their tracks.

Braed sighed, prepared to deliver yet another speech on respecting personal autonomy.

"I tried it your way," Syras said unexpectedly. He flicked long, black hair over his bare shoulder and looked over at Braed; his golden eyes always seemed like they were dancing and drew Braed's gaze even though there was plenty else to look at. "I brought you to talk to him, but he wouldn't listen."

"When your help's not wanted is when you're supposed to leave well enough alone," Braed reminded him.

Syras snorted. "If we leave him, he will die," he said with that tone of authority that Braed often loved and occasionally hated. Noticing Braed's expression he did explain, "I felt him coming, Braeden. He has an untrained ability that will call power to him unless he is taught how to shield himself."

Braed sighed. "Alright," he allowed. It was, after all, what had called Syras to him: a young man whose magical talents were being siphoned by unscrupulous mages. "I suppose you're going to help me carry him, then?"

Syras grinned. He could shift his shape better than any mage in the world, with the possible exception of the elder sisters of the Lunidae, but clothing that fit a human rarely fit a four-footed creature and so shape shifting was a craft that left one walking around in the nude most of the time. Thankfully, or otherwise, Syras did not seem to feel the chill.

"I'll give you a hand," he assured. His golden eyes flared with inner light, and he shifted again until a tall, black horse stood beside Braed.

Braed stroked Syr's nose. "When I mentioned wanting to ride you, this was not what I had in mind," he confessed.

Syras threw back his head with a whinny, and bumped Braed's shoulder with his nose a bit harder than he really needed to.

********

“Jade”

a story about my original Wraith character whose name is Jade. He leaves his hive and comes to Atlantis, and is trying to find his way in the galaxy while also dealing with the prejudice he has suffered all his life because he is intersex.

This exerpt is from the beginning of my draft of chapter 5:

Jade is sitting in the darkness, enjoying the quiet of the pier as the planet turns toward morning, when he hears a faint scraping sound.

A Wraith's hands appear over the side of the edge of the pier, and following that a Wraith, pulling himself up out of the water and onto the pier’s surface.

Jade doesn't know this Wraith, and he sits very still, his left hand on Sheppard's knife as he waits for the Wraith to notice him.

The Wraith shakes himself, squeezes water out of his hair, then stops dead when he notices Jade. His eyes fixate on Jade in alarm, which then fades to curiosity. Jade feels the Wraith reach out to him tentatively, seeking hive bonds, and Jade opens himself to the other.

Greetings, the Wraith says. I am Third Scientist of Biological Creatures, known among the humans as Ray.

Jade bows his head. I am Jade, formerly Second Navigator. He hesitates but asks, What are you doing? Is the water good for swimming? Jade has received tellings that contain memories of swimming, but hadn't thought about trying it here.

Ray grins. It is very good for swimming, he agrees, a certain tone in his mental voice suggesting that swimming isn't necessarily allowed.

Jade remembers both Scylla and the Commander delineated the Pier as the zone where Wraith were permitted to go, and not places adjacent to the pier. What are you doing? he asks again.

Collecting specimens, Ray answers. He approaches and holds up a small cup with a lid that screws on tightly; inside of it is seawater and a nearly microscopic organism. I had to go far to get this one, he says proudly. Doctor Branson is studying how different environments cause them to develop different abilities.

Jade is intrigued. And you gather these specimens? By yourself? He moves to the edge of the pier and looks into the water. It is rough near the surface, breaking against the structure of Atlantis, but he imagines that underneath the surface it would be very calm.

Ray shrugs. Sometimes Goose assists me, and Jade receives a mental impression of another Wraith, but he is more interested in the study than the capture so he usually stays with Doctor Branson.

I have never swam, Jade confesses. Is it very difficult?

Ray cocks his head. I do not think so. Would you like to try?

Jade looks at him warily.

If it is your first attempt you should not go alone, Ray advises. He hesitates. I can assist you. If… it is alright? He makes an abortive gesture to Jade’s hair. You look… He doesn’t say the word “queen” but the feeling of reverent awe and a desire to not offend needs no additional words. But you feel like another Wraith in my thoughts. Are you a brother of the hive then?

Yes, Jade says with surprise. He's so rarely met someone who truly had no idea who he was. I know my hair is dark, but consider me a brother. He adds shyly, I would welcome your assistance.

Ray bows. Very good. If you like we can go now.

Jade thrills with excitement and nods. He pulls off his boots and leaves his coat on the pier. He hesitates, but follows Ray’s lead and strips down to his skin. Ray has short hair, but Jade braids his quickly to keep it from tangling, and then jumps into the water.

Hitting the water is a sharp feeling but, once in, the water holds him. Jade spreads his limbs and mimics Ray’s movements to propel himself along. Other than the dark bulk of Atlantis the water is clear and empty, the light of two moons reaching down into it, though endless depths stretch below him, descending in darkening layers to complete opacity.

Jade hangs in the water and looks down into the darkness, transfixed. It reminds him of the endlessness of space, but he is here without a ship surrounding him and can experience it directly.

Ray swims past to catch his attention and leads him back up to the surface to take a deep breath; Jade hadn't even noticed the passage of time. He doesn't need to breathe quite yet but follows Ray anyway.

Closer to the surface where the light is stronger he can see the million little organisms that live in water: see them and not just sense the electrical presence of their life.

These ones are best seen under moonlight, Ray shares. It is why I come out at night.

It is beautiful, Jade says shyly.

Ray grins. That is the other reason I come.

#answers #my writing #trying to do this on mobile so im sorry when it inevitably fucks the formatting 😭

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itstartedwithalex · 5 months

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it could’ve started like this: a mcshep get-together per episode

s2e07: Instinct | carried away, t, (6min 33s)

They don’t talk. They haven’t been talking for a week and sharing a room above the tavern isn’t really making a difference.

read it on ao3 | listen on ao3 | full series on Tumblr

fic and art by @dedkake. Podlet recorded for the SGA fanart only server second birthday bash

#SGA fanart only server birthday bash #s2 it could've started like this #my podfic #stargate atlantis #podfic

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stargatevp · 2 years

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Halloween 2022 Election Fight

Comtraya and Tek'ma'tek, y'all! I know we said that, come September, we would restart the twice a week showing, and bring back SGA and SGU. However, since our anniversary is coming up again, we decided to implement those changes after that.

Regarding the Anniversary viewing on Sunday 30st of October: Last year we announced that for our Anniversary viewing on Halloween, we will be starting to show two spoopy episode, with one being SGA's Whispers as per tradition, and the other episode being another spooky SGA, SG1 or SGU episode. Please reply to this post with the number of the episode in the list. The one with the most votes wins and will be shown on our Anniversary Viewing this year together with Whispers.

Here's the list of spooky episodes to choose from: (SG-1 4x20 Entity was excluded since we watched it last year; SG-1 S05E08 The Tomb as well as S09E17 The Scourge removed in case people can’t deal with creepy critters)

1. Atlantis Season 4 Episode 4: Doppelganger During an off-world mission Colonel Sheppard unknowingly becomes host to an alien entity, which infects others in Atlantis and afflicts them with terrifying nightmares. (Clowns in boats)

2. SG-1 Season 3 Episode 4: Legacy When Daniel goes insane, SG-1 must deal with the legacy of Machello's anti-Goa'uld technology. (mental health care)

3. Atlantis Season 2 Episode 7: Instinct The team discovers a young Wraith girl who has been raised by a human, and is in hiding from the people of her human village in fear of her life. (Can a scorpion change its spots?)

4. Atlantis Season 3 Episode 9: Phantoms Sheppard and Ronon are influenced by a mind-altering device created by the Wraith while on a mission to rescue a lost team. (Trust no one)

5. Universe Season 1 Episode 17: Pain Dr. Tamara Johansen tries to track down what is causing the crew to hallucinate. (pain)

6. SG-1 Season 9 Episode 3: Origin Daniel comes face to face with the Ori, a fiery race of beings who demand the worship of mortals. Elsewhere, Stargate Command encounters the first Ori missionary in our galaxy. (Religion)

7. SG-1 Season 4 Episode 1: Small Victories O'Neill and Teal'c risk their lives to keep the Replicator bugs from gaining a foothold on Earth, while Carter helps the Asgard fend off a Replicator invasion. (Robospooders)

to recap: just put the number of the episode you want to see together with Whispers in the replies

Voting possible until October 27th!

#anniversary viewing #SGVP Anniversary #Halloween #sgvp:psa

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darsynia · 1 year

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Stuck On You | John/Rodney Oneshot

It's the iconic Stargate Atlantis anthropomorphic ice cube fic!!

Written in 2009 during a giggling time when the lot of us in the SGA fandom were sharing pictures of the silly shapes our freezer cubes were manifesting with. Someone even made fanart for me! John Sheppard/Rodney McKay, 1,421 words.

No tags because oh my god

Stuck On You

His first memory is of falling, tumbling end over end in an exhilarating rush that was over far too soon. He didn't even notice the pain of landing because he was too concentrated on the feeling of skidding forward, hoping and hoping there would be another drop off in his future. When he finally came to rest, though, it was in the corner of the container, flush with the frost-laden wall. There was only one other cube nearby, as most of the others had ended up in a jumbled heap right under the Spout-thing. He could just barely hear them, still settling in, the harsh sounds of ice against ice reflecting off of the plastic walls.

His inertia gone, all he could really do was lean up against the wall and think about how much fun the tumble had been. He allowed himself a bit of pride for having escaped the crush of cubes, as well--he was certain he'd have hated being stuck at the very bottom, having to take the superior attitude of those of the upper echelon.

"You'll get stuck like that, you know," a grumpy voice beside him said. It was the nearby cube, whose lower left-hand corner was a bit rounded, as though it had chipped off and been melted smooth again.

"Stuck?" he replied, not sure he liked this chipped cube's tone.

"Yes, stuck," it said in a lofty voice. "Don't you know anything about Temperature States and Melt Physics?" The way it said this made him upset. It wasn't like he'd had much time to learn anything, after all. Still, some things were instinct, he supposed, and he could feel something in the air around him--if he rested too closely to the slick wall, it would want to bond with him. He wasn't sure he was ready for that.

"Is that how you lost your corner?" he said, a bit defensively.

"Isn't that just typical," Chipped muttered to himself. Then, a little louder, it said, "You don't have much room to talk--at least I don't have a mutant edge. I thought there were regulations against that sort of thing."

The frost on the wall dulled any sort of reflection, but he knew what Chipped was talking about, he could feel the extra ice there. He kind of liked it, actually.

"Size matters," he said diffidently, enjoying Chipped's spluttering reaction. He was sure if the temperature in their freezer had been any cooler, it would have actually shed water in indignation. "Calm down there, Chipped," he said. "Think of how much worse it'd be if we were stuck in that mess." He couldn't gesture, but Chipped had to know what he meant. It looked really distracted--at the thought of more rounded corners, no doubt--before it spoke again.

"Chipped? Chipped! Do I look like I've got rough edges to you, you... you... Spikehead!"

He wisely kept silent during the tirade, though 'Spikehead' sounded wrong to him, so maybe Chipped had a point about the name thing.

"Well, what would you like to be called, then?" he asked. "Splutter?" he offered, waiting for the reaction.

"Oh, that's just awful. You don't get to name anything," Chipped/Splutter said disgustedly. "I'm... well. I'd really rather have been spherical--ice absorbs a lot fewer... contaminants that way. So, you can call me... Rod."

"Rod."

"What? You don't think I want to be completely round, do you?" Rod huffed. "What do I call you, then?"

"Whatever," he said. It really didn't matter to him much, though he had to admit 'Spikehead' wasn't something he'd answer to.

"Very helpful, thanks," Rod said sarcastically. "So..."

Rod didn't get to finish his thought, however, as at that moment there was a rush of unwelcome air from the door to the freezer as it was pulled open. He and Rod looked at each other helplessly as they heard and felt the loud thumps of different things being moved around. Suddenly, their container tipped sideways, and Rod slid smoothly across to land very close beside him, almost touching. The air around them felt wrong, and he felt the entire container vibrate as the freezer's motor kicked in, blowing deliciously cold air across the top of their hiding place. It wasn't enough, though.

"Oh, this is bad," Rod said, a twinge of terror in his voice. Rod started muttering something that he couldn't make out.

"What are you doing?"

"Shh, I'm calculating something!" After a long pause, Rod spoke again, not even disguising his fear this time. "We are so screwed. If that door stays open just five more minutes..."

"This is something about Melt Physics, isn't it?" he asked, trying to cheer Rod up.

"Yes, of course it's--oh, funny, Cowlick, that was brain-melting humor right there," Rod hissed.

"Hey, at least you didn't call me a drip," Cowlick said. He liked his new name, it had a nice ring to it.

"Less than an hour old and already he's making puns. This universe hates me," Rod declared.

They fell silent, waiting in trepidation as the door remained open and the temperature around them fell slowly, almost imperceptibly. He could feel Rod next to him, cold and comforting, and he had a sudden urge to try to slide closer. He didn't think he'd mind bonding if it was with Rod--and he didn't think that was just because his alternative was the orgy of dimwitted, unadventurous ice cubes behind them. Cowlick didn't know what to say, though, since Rod didn't really seem to like him very much and he didn't want to alienate the only other ice cube in proximity to him.

There was a wave of awful warm, moist air that dragged across them for long seconds and then the freezer door shut, mercifully.

"Oh, God. I'm sweating, aren't I! Am I sweating?" Rod babbled, tilting his curved corner toward Cowlick.

"You're fine," he said soothingly, and with a rush of frozen excitement, added, "--and even if you were..." his voice trailed off as Rod looked at him strangely.

"'Even if I were...' what?" Rod prompted after a few tense seconds.

"I'd try to um. Rub it off," Cowlick said, wishing the plastic under him were more slippery, so he could turn away. He didn't want to see Rod's disgust at this.

"You'd..." Rod didn't sound disgusted. He kind of sounded excited, or maybe nervous, voice breaking in a way similar to his frantic worry of a few minutes earlier, but different. It gave Cowlick the courage to continue.

"So you wouldn't, you know, have bumps when they froze. The drops. From the sweat." If it were possible to spontaneously heat up with embarrassment and anticipation, he'd be sweating too, right now.

"That's-- Really?"

Cowlick didn't say anything. He looked away from the intense look on Rod's face, and when he looked back Rod seemed closer, somehow.

"It still feels kind of warm in here," Rod said casually, but his voice was high and Cowlick sensed that something had changed. "Doesn't it feel a bit warm in here?"

"The freezer hasn't had time to compensate just yet, I don't think," Cowlick said slowly.

"I heard that, um. That pressing close together helps to conserve cold, actually," Rod said.

"That makes sense." Cowlick's voice sounded about four times more calm than he felt. Was Rod...? "Those cubes behind us are probably nice and cozy by now, then," he remarked.

"Well then. It seems a shame to deprive the world of a cube of my caliber, doesn't it?" Rod said, a thread of his former superiority trickling back into his tone. Cowlick focused on the plastic underneath him, trying to feel for a slick spot, anything that he could use to move, even slightly. There.

"So, do you--" Rod started to say, but Cowlick interrupted him by pressing close, edge to edge, side to side.

"Yes."

"Oh, thank God," Rod said, and Cowlick could feel his words now, instead of just hearing them. They were as close as two separate and distinct entities of chilled water could be, and it was glorious. It was like they'd been cast from the same mold; their sides fit perfectly together, and Cowlick thought he would be happy to stay like this forever.

A few frosty moments in time later, Rod spoke again.

"So, what do you think of frozen peas?"

Cowlick's laugh echoed off the plastic walls, and Rod's answering squeal of outrage was like the rush of falling again.

#stargate atlantis fic #traditional SGA crackfic #john sheppard/rodney mckay #they're ice cubes #this used to be on fanlore with a bunch of other great sga crackfics but someone got uptight and deleted that section #crackfic #john sheppard fanfiction #rodney mckay fanfiction #mcshep #if you like this i have more SGA john/rodney to share!#and the rest of it is serious stuff haha

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