#billy burn imagine

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Repentance

Billy x Gender Neutral! Reader

('Burn' gifs are limited and this was hotter. Sue me.)

Summery: You know the phrase 'sleeping angels?' Yeah, not in this fucking house. Pretty soon it's gonna be you or him, but Billy may have a trick or two up his sleeve to provide a happy ending for you both

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specified genitals for Reader, prequel/standalone fic for 'My Ghost' but not required reading to enjoy this fic, ('My Ghost' may even be enhanced if you read this first, I'll be fr.) Porn with plot (if you are only here for plot, the porn is only in the second half and is easily skippable), snoring, Reader is sleep deprived, non-serious threats of violence, mentions of gun violence, banter, make-up sex, drug usage/alcohol consumption, Dom!Billy, Sub!Reader, Reader goes mostly non-verbal after smoking but their thoughts don't, dumbification, Reader gets spoiled and folds like a lawn chair me too bitch me too, massage turning into sex, doggy style, Reader gets that good dick that knocks their head into a wall, vocal! Billy, dirty talk/talking through it, pet names, possessive sex, mentions of wet dreams, happy ending for everyone :)

Other Works in This Series: 'My Ghost' (Original) • 'Lapses' (Sequel to 'My Ghost')

Notes: This was supposed to be a drabble and it was not gonna contain smut. What can I say, when the holy spirit of a short man with big brown eyes compels you, you compel him into your bitch. Anyways, this was inspired by this headcanon written by @g0ry0re0! So if you liked this fic, please thank her as well in the comments and go support her works because this wouldn't exist without it!! They're a fucking great writer as well.

                            -¤°》◇《°¤-

Have you ever killed a man?

I might.

Listen, I'm not a bitch. I'm not unreasonable even though that was a hell of an opening statement. But if you'd dealt with the shit I've put up with for the past few nights, you would understand.

How can a man who's not even that fucking large in stature make such noise? What the fuck is wrong with him?

I kick him to try and hit a reset button. It works for five minutes, which is long enough for me to begin to relax again. Right before his snoring revs up like the engine of that bike he loves parked on our front lawn. Maybe I'll run him over with it. Be poetic, take him out with his own weapon. Don't the reports show just how deadly motorcycles are compared to regular cars? It's bad for your health.

Okay, I'm assuming that bit because I'm tired, I'm cold, and Billy won't shut the fuck up. It was a little cute when he was just spending the night and we were hardly sleeping. But now that he actually lives here?

Kick. Stop. Wait. Snore.

Goddammit.

Billy has the fucking audacity to greet me with a smile this morning. Sitting at my fucking table, smoking from the ashtray I fucking made him. He should be ashamed to look so good with no shirt on, displaying his chest hair for the whole neighborhood to see as he sits near the open window with coffee set in front of him like he owns the damn place.

"Morning beautiful," he says with a smile. What fucking nerve does he have to sit there and act so happy about while I hate him?

"You snore," I growl. His eyebrows shoot into the air, this son of a bitch has the nerve to widen his smile.

"I'm sorry?"

"I said you fucking snore," I repeat.

"Don't think I've heard that complaint before," he says, shifting in his seat to look at me better. I don't like the way he looks in those sweatpants, grey and hugging the wrong areas for my attitude.

"You haven't dated anyone long enough for someone to complain about it," I mutter under my breath. His eyes focus on the oversized shirt I wear that alright, maybe I stole from the drawer I stash his things in that I now claim as mine. We live together, it's inevitable, fucking fight me. Watching me as I walk into the kitchen, taking the coffee pot off the dock and pouring some into my cup.

"Something I can do to make up for it, shirt thief?" He asks, leaning back in his seat and manspreading, his hands on his horribly thick thighs. "I was wondering where that one went," he mutters to himself, amused.

"Yeah. See a fucking doctor."

It's day five. I'm genuinely considering homicide.

Dear God, or Allah, or whoever you are. If I shouldn't suffocate this man, give me a sign.

...does the short snore that escapes Billy's mouth count?

It doesn't matter what I do. If I turn him onto his side, if I kick him, if I shove ear buds in and blast whatever music I can sleep to at max volume, he's louder and I'm on my last straw. It's him or me.

"William," I say, poking my head up from the old pillow.

No response.

Maybe it's safe.

Maybe he's dead.

Maybe he'll stay quiet.

I lay my head down once more.

"...what?"

"You fucking snore."

"I'm sorry baby," he slurs in half baked consciousness, turning to wrap his arm around my waist as he presses hot, open mouthed kisses to the back of my neck. "Can I make it up to you?"

"Yeah, let me sleep."

"Sleep is for the weak."

I am weak. I am very, very weak.

"Put your dick away."

"It isn't out."

"I can still feel it."

With a grumble and his face buried in my hair, he abandons his quest in favor of returning to whatever dreams make him keep me up at night. And I am so close to joining him when he starts back up hardly two minutes later. Right in my ear.

With a final huff, I tear the blanket off of him and stomp my bleary eyed way to the living room. Fucker is too sleepy to even notice. Fuck him.

I'm not amused when I wake up in the ungodly hours of the morning sprawled on the couch, Billy's foot in my face as early morning light peaks through the shitty blinds.

"You followed me," I groan, my voice rough with sleep.

"I followed blanket," he slurs.

"It's mine."

"I was cold."

"You snore."

"I've offered consolation, you should take it."

"William, have you ever shot a man?" I ask, bolting upright as I wipe the crust from my eyes.

"Fucking what?"

"Have you ever shot a man?" I repeat slowly, properly enunciating each word.

Billy's eyes dart to the side, then back to me, wide but still tinted from sleep.

"...no?"

"I've considered it," I tell him. "There's a gun in my nightstand. And if I don't get some sleep soon, I'm going to use it. I haven't before, but I can't imagine it's hard."

Billy presses his lips together in a thin line, knowing I'm not serious but that I'm on the last straw.

"... should I go back to bed?"

"I can go back to bed," I say. "You can stay on the couch."

"That's a great idea."

"I'll take the blanket."

"You do that."

It's only two hours later when I'm woken by the alarm, and the smell of sausage is fresh on the air. Even if it was short, the sleep in solitude feels refreshing, no interruptions from Yellowstone volcano on the other side.

When I wander into the kitchen he's in the midst of finishing his preparations for a feast. And by feast I mean a fuck load of eggs with sriracha on top and plenty of sausages to go with it. There's also a pile of toast, the bottle of homemade cinnamon sugar next to the stick of butter besides it.

"Morning beautiful," Billy tries carefully, eyeing me as I lean against the hallway doorframe. "Coffee's on the table."

Whatever I said earlier- which may or may not be blurry to me at this point -has clearly changed his attitude. He's even set out the hazellenut creamer for me, a treat.

"Did you sleep well?" He asks, setting a heaping plate in front of me. I don't know how to tell him I'm too sleepy to eat.

"Better," I say. I take a slice of cinnamon covered toast, trying to convince my stomach to wake up. "Kinda cold, though."

He smiles softly at that, setting down his own plate to join me. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." I return the smile, taking a small bite of the corner of my toast. He takes a sip of coffee and brushes his foot against mine under the table. The silence is sweet, apart from the radio just ever so quietly playing in the background to add to the calm morning atmosphere Billy has created for me. His hair is ruffled from sleep, his hand nervously fiddling with the thin chain around his neck. He glances at me, smiles apprehensively, then breaks the silence.

"Do you actually own a gun?" He asks, trying so hard to sound casual.

My brows furrow before I realize what he's referencing, letting out a loud laugh and almost dropping my toast in the process.

"I'm not gonna shoot you, Billy," I laugh, trying so hard to maintain my composure.

"Last night you called me William. I did not like that," he laughs nervously.

"William, I will not shoot you."

"My mother calls me that, I don't want you and my mom calling me the same name."

"Willy-"

"Fuck you," he groans, laughing. "You're terrifying."

"When I don't sleep," I add for him. He nods, eyes wide and brows raising in agreement. "Did you seriously make breakfast because you were worried I owned a gun?"

"When you meet the devil, you meet demands," he says. I kick at his foot playfully, giggling.

"The devil doesn't really eat breakfast."

"I know, I packed lunch too."

Fuck free will, I should've done the gun thing a long time ago. When I walk back into the ramshack house that evening fresh off my shift, Billy has dinner, a bowl and a bath prepared for me upon my return.

"I did not take your comments seriously and I'm sorry," he says genuinely, taking my coat. "I should have and you have suffered. Consider this repentance."

"Repentance is nice. You hide the gun too while you were at it?" I ask.

"I'm not answering that."

Billy may be many things, and a cook is one of them. It's simple, fresh, and nice after a long day. The backrub I'm getting while I eat makes the flavors even sweeter.

"I feel an urge to clarify my threat was not serious," I joke between bites, taking a sip of the wine Billy had run out and gotten special for the night.

"I'm well aware, but this is overdue anyways," he says softly. "You're mine and you deserve nice nights." He presses a warm kiss to the spot just under my ear, making me blush. "My baby needs spoiled."

"Well, I certainly feel spoiled," I say contently, finishing the last bite. I lean back in my chair, letting him explore my neck as his gentle hands work their way through my many knots, whispering sweet nothings in my ear all the while.

"Wait until I tell you what kinds of oils I slipped in your bath as well," he whispers in my ear.

If this is repentance, he should snore more often.

I'm stoned, zoned, and completely naked across the bed as Billy carefully massages my legs, phone propped on a spare pillow beside my head as I stare blankly at the show in front of me.

His hands are slick with oil, gliding across my skin with ease as he works at a knot on the back of my calf.

"I've been ignoring you too much," he muses, his voice soft and loving as his thumbs work in small circles. "You're much too tense for my taste."

I am too stupid to respond with English. I will tell him later about the day I've had at work, running around for fifteen different customers and a boss I can hardly stand. But for now a low moan will do, my mind too blurry from substance use and the stimulation that makes me dizzy with want.

"Does that feel good?" Billy asks, pressing a small kiss against my shin. I moan again, eyes fluttering shut. "Wanna make sure my baby sleeps well tonight."

Oh, I'll sleep phenomenally.

His hands abandon me, searching for the bottle of lavender scented oil, coating his hands before reaching for the back of my thighs, right below the curve of my ass.

"How's the show?" He asks me, digging deeply into my tissue in a way that makes me moan, arching my back subconsciously as the stimulation takes over my thoughts. "That good?" He asks, voice deep as he chuckles.

"Very good," I confirm, my voice soft against the freshly washed bedsheets. I have never said a bad thing about this man. I would never curse the provider of relaxation. Any claims otherwise are false and slandering against me and my man.

"You're grinding against the bed, you realize that, right?" Billy asks bemused, his thumbs drawing deep circles against the inside of my thighs, making me gasp in want. "There something else you want?"

Whatever strain he has given me has made me nonverbal, but the squeak I let out is answer enough. For me, anyways.

"I need words, baby. Words. Vague noises are not consent," he says softly.

"Motherfucker that noise was not vague," I snap, lifting my head up briefly before resuming my mindless appreciation against the bed. Billy's laugh echoes throughout the room, his hand lightly smacking my ass before reaching for the small towel and bottle of lube on the nightstand, wiping off his hands before squeezing a generous dollop onto two digits.

His fingers press against my entrance slowly, coating it with the thick, cold lube, making me squirm and gasp against him, my eyes rolling to the back of my head.

"I'm gonna start off slow, okay baby?" He says gently, still stroking my entrance as he positions himself above me. "You let me know if you want me to change something."

I moan in understanding, but it's not enough for him. His voice is low and rumbling by my ear, his lips teasing at my shoulder.

"Say yes if you understand," he says softly, breath hot against my ear.

"Yes," I say just as soft.

"Good," he praises, pressing a soft kiss to the back of my neck. "Good baby."

His cock slowly sinks inside of me, the pot from earlier making the sensations deeper and more vibrant as I feel the sweet stretch even at the top of my head. Billy moves slow, taking his time to enter me as though we had all the time in the world. I can't help but pant against the bed, whining for more intelligibly as Billy sheethes himself to the hilt, pressing himself against my g-spot just perfectly at this angle, no real effort needed when I'm like this. My eyes roll at the touch, my hips bucking in uneven, stupid rhythms against him as he remains still inside of me. Fuck it, he could snore in my ear right now and I'd let him.

Billy's voice is breathy, moaning as he brushes my hair with his hand. "Let me know when you want me to move," he moans in my ear.

"I am," I whine. "Fuck me."

He chuckles against me, his voice rough as he continues in a slow, even rhythm. "You don't want to go slow first?" He asks, pressing a kiss to my spine as he slowly slides against my spot again, his cock making me clench tightly around him.

"Uh uh," I moan, still trying to buck rapidly against him. "Want more."

"You usually get so overstimulated if I start fast at this angle," he teases, ignoring the pace of my hips in favor of his. "Can't even finish fucking you if I start out fast, you're so sensitive by the end."

That's a lie. Terrible lie. Slander.

"Do you really want me to go fast?" He asks softly, one hand finding my hip to guide me to a better rhythm.

"Motherfucker, yes," I whine, lifting my head. He chuckles, much to my annoyance. "Fuck me like you own me."

At that he grabs my hips, slamming me against his base before he begins to violently abuse my hole, fucking directly into my g-spot and never missing once as he fucks me hard enough to make the bed slam into the wall, making a painting rattle on the wall behind us.

"Jesus- fuck- wait!" I cry, my hips subconsciously trying to escape his abuse while I clench around him, silently begging for more.

He slows his pace once more, pressing such soft, sweet kisses to my spine as he speaks. "See? You can't handle it like that. You're half fucked out already and that wasn't even five seconds."

He's absolutely right and I should listen to him more. How wise is my man.

"If I was really fucking you like I owned you," he says lowly between slow, long thrusts, his hands guiding my hips gently as I whimper with each move like the bitch I am. "I'd pick the pace. But here you are, telling me what to do and changing your mind the moment I give it to you. So indecisive is my baby." Very indecisive. Go fast again. "And I'll do whatever you want like a good man should."

I will stay home with the kids. I will scrub my permanently stained linoleum floor until it shines like the top of the Chrysler building. I will spend my days barefoot and pregnant if he so requests of me. In Jesus's name, Amen.

Billy moves slow and purposefully against me, grinding his cock and moaning in my ear while he watches me, smacking my ass here and there when he wants to watch it bounce against his hips.

"So pretty," he moans. "Even prettier when you cum. Is there something I can do to help?"

I whine against the bed, feeling edged and whoreish with his thick dick pulsing inside of me, fucking me into blind submission and making me willing to do anything he says.

"Would someone like for me to go faster?" He coos sweetly, slightly speeding up his tempo as he slams more gently into my spot. "Does my baby wanna get fucked?"

I nod stupidly, whining and huffing as he slowly continues to gain speed.

"You gonna cum around me? Take my cock real nice and fast?" He asks, smacking my ass once more. I clench upon impact, making him do it again and again until he laughs.

"Cum in me," I moan. All care has been thrown out the window, my head scrambled and vision blind.

"Yeah? You want that?" He teases. His balls smack loudly against my front, offering additional stimulation and making my eyes roll. "Looks like you're drooling over it." Motherfucker I am, and?

"I'm gonna fuck you so good you sleep for days, sweetheart," he moans in my ear, slamming into me hard enough to make me squeal. "Kept dreaming about you for the past week. Kept getting all nice and hard only to have you wake me up before I could fuck you. Come to find out I was keeping my poor baby up, being my own cockblock."

His cock pistons in and out of me at impressive speed, one of his hands slamming against the bars of the metal headboard to offer him stability while he fucks me, the bed ramming against the wall so loudly it's all I can hear besides him. I think the painting fell.

"Now we can both sleep better at night. My balls empty, your ass nice and full. Think I'll do it again tomorrow," he muses, slamming me against the bed, pushing me higher. "And again." And higher. "And again." Until the top of my head pounds against the ceiling. "Till the fucken cows come home."

Moo, bitch. Moo.

With a pathetic scream, hardly able to make any noise due to the violent climax, I cry his name as I clench around him. His dick pounds my head into the wall absuively as he chants my name like it's the only word ever known to him, his voice raising in volume until he's shouting it so clear it raises above the rocking of the bed, loud enough surely for the neighbors to hear. I'm hardly even aware of when he cums, or really anything at this point, his dick pulsing within me and fucking his admittedly larger than usual load into me so deep you'd think there'd be no chance of it to escape. I'm only aware he came when his cock finally softens, our cum dripping and pooling underneath of me in a mixed puddle when he slips out with a small whimper, his breath so heavy and wheezing I'm almost scared he'll pass out on top of me.

"Wanna go again?" He jokes, his voice worryingly pathetic as he tries to laugh, sounding more like a death rattle than anything. All I respond with is a shaky thumbs down, my head spinning from the possible concussion I may genuinely have.

It's an effective sleep method. Works wonders for both of us.

                              ▪︎》◇《▪︎

After he slips out of the house one winter morning with my gun tucked in the back of his jeans, I can't tell you how much I'd give to hear him snore against our lavender scented bed one last time, feeling his arms that are now ash and bones on the floor of a gas station just outside of town. My only company now being his ghost echoing his bright laughter down the darkened halls of what was once our home.

You like my ending bbgirl? Special just for youuu.

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

Masterlist

#josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson fanfic #billy burn 2019 #billy burn x you #billy x reader #billy burn #billy josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson billy #josh hutcherson burn #josh hutcherson burn 2019 #burn movie 2019 #burn 2019 #josh hutcherson x you #josh hutcherson x reader #jhutch #josh hutcherson imagine #billy burn imagine

[g0ry0re0]

"Tear In My Heart", Billy (Burn, 2019, Directed by Mike Gan) - Imagine

Description: AU where Billy survives the film's events and is on the run with you, basically just one big cross-country road trip. You can't sleep. / Billy x GN!Reader

General Notes: Gender Neutral Reader (no use of Y/N), Second Person POV, Alludes To Insomnia (reader), Food Mention (reader eats), Very Light Cursing (three words), Focus On Sounds (orange), Smoking Cigarettes (billy), Pure Fluff, Very Bried References To The Film (scars)

Author's Note: I'm finally back! This is just like a one-shot for this AU if anything. It's clearly inspired by Tear In My Heart by Twenty One Pilots, lol. Living out my 2016 teenage fantasies with this one, lmao. Thanks to @hazeldastar for helping proofread this (if anything is wrong, it's her fault 💜). Anyway, enjoy!

Word Count: 1,489

You fell asleep in my car, I drove the whole time / But that's okay, I'll just avoid the holes so you sleep fine / I'm driving here I sit, cursing my government / For not using my taxes to fill holes with more cement

Car horn. Snoring. A/C unit.

Roll over.

Footsteps. Muffled talking. Breathing.

Open your eyes.

He shifts. Bed springs. More snoring.

This isn't working.

You sit up with a sigh and look over at your sleeping companion. How is he able to sleep so soundly no matter where he is? You swear he snores louder every minute he's asleep, and he barely moves throughout the night. You take a glimpse at the healed burn on the side of his face, feeling remorse. You ghost the tips of your fingers over his burn tenderly, mostly for your own comfort. You stare at him, almost in awe, as he lays on his back, his left arm stretched out behind you, sleeping so contently. Jealousy briefly flashes in your mind before tiredness takes over again.

Stomach rumbling.

How long has it been since you've eaten? You glance at Billy one last time before carefully standing up, hoping that the cheap mattress doesn't give you away. You recoil when he shifts again, turning to lay on his side before his snoring starts back up. Breathing a sigh of relief, you walk over to the desk on the other side of the cramped motel room. Navigating through a mostly dark room, minimal moonlight shining through the sheer curtains, you try not to make too much noise. You shuffle through your snack bin before landing on a bag of chips.

You look back at him, so peaceful, tranquil. He'd been driving all day, there's no way you could wake him up right now. Softly, the padding of your feet can be heard on the scratchy, poor-quality carpet as you head toward the adjacent room; tiny as it was, the bathroom, the best option for you right now. You gently close the door before turning on the flickering light, illuminating the compact space. You sigh and rub your eyes before sitting on the cold tile floor, squeezing in between the sink and the shoddy shower. Rubbing your eyes again, you pray that filling up on carbs will lull you into a short slumber before you both have to pack up and ditch town in the morning.

You sit there, uncomfortably, for a few minutes. Taking your time, snacking on your bag of chips before your return to bed where you will inevitably toss and turn until the sun rises once again. This road trip was starting to take a toll on your body.

Crunch.

You'd swear that these were the loudest chips on the planet. It's like they were trying to sabotage you. As if on cue, you could hear the heavy footsteps of your partner heading towards the bathroom door now. You flinch and brace for the knock on the door.

Knocking.

"Hey, darlin', you alright in there?" He asks, voice raspy.

"Yeah," you start to whisper, not really sure why at this point. "I didn't wanna wake you."

He laughs.

"Well, the lack of your presence woke me up anyway." He remarks playfully. "Come back to bed, love."

You crumble up your bag of chips and toss them before standing up. A few of your joints crack from unraveling the awkward position. You open the door to see your heavily disheveled boyfriend standing in front of you, the ghost of a smirk on his face. You feel as though you look a lot worse for wear than he does. Disheveled always looked good on him anyway.

"I can't sleep." You admit, shoulders slumped, feeling defeated and a bit childish.

"Yeah?" He cocks his head to the side.

"Yeah. Sleep is for the weak anyway, right?"

"Right." Billy's smirk grows wider.

"Right." You agree, your shoulders straightening before slumping again.

"But I... I am so very, very weak." You look down as you say this, the exhaustion catching up to you.

Billy hums and rests his hands on your shoulders. You both stand in silence for a few moments, contemplating and reveling in the scene's serenity. You could feel the true fatigue weighing down your entire being, not having slept for the past few weeks. It felt as though it were affecting you in all aspects of your life: physically, emotionally, spiritually. Billy's always been able to read you well, and he can sense the unease in you. He starts to rub the sides of your arms lightly, head still cocked to the side and ducking down, trying to make eye contact with you. He's smiling softly now, no longer feeling as playful, just wanting to help you feel better.

You sigh and wrap your arms around his waist, nuzzling your face into his neck, basking in the warmth radiating from his body. You didn't want to look him in the eyes right now. He quickly wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into him further and taking in your scent. Both of you stay like this for a couple of minutes, content with the sickly sweet feeling of the instance, yet still feeling the restlessness of the lack of sleep.

He starts to sway gently with you in his arms, murmuring sweet nothings into your ear to ease your growing anxiety. Both enjoying the comfort of the moment and the tenderness. After a few moments, Billy pulls away slightly and raises a hand to your chin, lifting your head to finally look at him. He rubs his thumb along your skin lightly.

"Wanna go for a drive?"

The nighttime air was warm, Summer making itself known. There was no need for either of you to wear a jacket as you climbed into Billy's car, parked right in front of your motel room door. Not many other cars were in the run-down motel parking lot.

Cicadas buzzing.

Your lover rolls down the windows of the car before pulling out onto the road. With no destination in mind: you set out. Deep down, Billy knows you both don't have much to spare for gas money, but he figures he can scrounge for change this time around. You tiredly gaze out the window at the passing trees, the quaint houses, and the small businesses. You truly loved driving through these small towns, especially when the residents were kind. Stopping by the local bars was always yours and Billy's favorite thing to do. Billy glances at you in your relaxed state and turns on the radio, quietly. He grabs your hand and smiles at you before looking back at the road. You return the smile, wearily, before looking out the open window once again.

After a while, you can finally feel your eyes drooping, not sure whether or not to fight it off this time. You end up losing the battle and knock out cold. Billy can only vaguely hear your light snores over the music playing and the air flowing through the windows. He smiles fondly and slows the car down a bit, attempting to make the whipping of the wind throughout the car more gentle as well as the ride itself.

Thunk.

He cringes and looks over at you, still sleeping but turned over to face him now. These damn country roads. He figured you must really be in a deep sleep if that didn't wake you up. He turns on the brights to illuminate the road; he'd do anything to avoid the goddamn potholes right now. Of all the times you drive together, they have to make an appearance now.

Thunk.

Son of a bitch. He glances over at you once again, still passed out cold in the passenger's seat. He begins to feel a twinge of guilt, you haven't slept properly in days. He squeezes your hand and looks back at the road, driving more carefully this time. He lightly presses his foot on the brakes, going even slower than before. It's not like there was anyone else on the road at this hour anyway.

Billy reluctantly lets go of your hand and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Pulling out a single stick, he places it in between his lips before lighting it. He pockets the rest of the pack and his lighter before he peeks at you again. You finally look as peaceful as he did earlier that night. He takes a puff of the cigarette as he lightly swerves to avoid another pothole. What was the point in paying taxes if the government wasn't even gonna use it for the important stuff?

He could see the motel in the distance now, as he had already made his way around the tiny town in a short amount of time. Billy glimpses at you for the nth time that night. He really doesn't want to wake you up. He doesn't think he has the heart to anyway. He sighs before making an abrupt turn, circling his way around the town again. Maybe he'll just drive for a little bit longer.

Masterlist Link

Divider: saradika and saradika-graphics on tumblr

Screenshot: me :)

#billy burn #billy burn 2019 #burn 2019 #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #x reader #billy burn x reader #billy burn 2019 x reader #billy x gn!reader #billy burn x gn!reader #billy burn x gender neutral reader #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #reader insert #x you #billy burn x you #billy burn 2019 imagine #billy burn imagine #imagine #katykat235 #g0ry0re0 #au

[stop-talking]

How Jhutch characters would behave on a road trip:

Mike Schmidt

- Would drive through the night while everyone else slept; his sleep schedule is fucked anyway

- Insists on keeping the ac low/off to save gas. "Just roll the windows down" while going 80 mph on the highway

- Severe road rage. "WHY ARE YOU GOING 60 IN A 65??"

Josh Futturman

- Low-key scared of driving on the highway; probably wouldn't drive at all, honestly.

- Passenger princess. (Complete with a full pillow and blanket)

- He'd meticulously pack snacks and drinks though

Derek Danforth

- Doesn't understand the appeal of driving places; his private jet is so much faster.

- Would either pay someone else to drive, OR drive himself but keep dropping not-so-subtle hints that he's "never had head while driving" and "wonders what that's like"

- Fucking hotboxes the car with either weed or vape. Annoying as fuck.

Clapton Davis

- Rides shotgun; probably doesn't have a license

- Crafted a playlist just for the trip, DJs the whole way there

- Extremely distracting though, puts a hand on your thigh while you drive.

Billy

- Doesn't let anyone else drive. His car is one of his few possessions and he treasures it, even if it's kinda a shitbox.

- "I'm not tired!!" (After nearly falling asleep at the wheel 6 times.)

- Sings along to the radio as he drives even though he's really bad at it.

#josh hutcherson #jhutch #derek danforth #clapton davis #mike schmidt #mike schmidt fnaf #fnaf movie mike #fnaf mike #mike fnaf #mike schmidt imagine #derek danforth imagine #billy burn #burn 2019 #burn movie 2019 #josh futterman #josh futturman #josh futturman imagine

[multi-fandomfuckboy]

Stranger Than Fiction

Part 26: Attitude

Billy Hargrove x Reader (Slowburn)

Part 1,... (Masterlist)...Part 26, Part 27 (Coming Soon)...

AN: Wow, twice in one week. Wild. Hope you guys like it!! Let me know what you think! Word Count: 3,090 Warnings: none

You relish the feeling of the asphalt under your shoes. Lengthening your stride, feeling the pull of your muscles, you set a steady pace. You barely notice the cold after a mile. In a way it’s almost comforting, the frozen air pressing around you biting at your exposed skin, almost like a kiss. The night is dark and peaceful, most people are already asleep at this hour. It swallows you whole, hiding all the parts of yourself you’ve been trying to ignore.

You know you should hate it. After seeing all the evil things that can hide in the dark, you should be terrified. But you’re not. A familiar shiver traces down your spine, like the darkness around you recognizes the darkness in you. A part of it will always live inside you, etched into your very skin, down to the bone. You can feel it with you now. The tingling sensation prickling around your scars, twisting down your back, it’s always there, but in the cold night air its caress feels like an old friend. 

You fall into it, the feeling allowing you to drift in and out of thought. The inky blackness pouring into you, filling the space in your mind where confusing and complicated thoughts once dwelled. Thoughts about Billy, about Steve, and Nancy, Jonathan, your mom, Hopper… all those loud thoughts smothered by the blanket of darkness. It’s peaceful here, in this place of no feeling. It would be easy to stay… It always was. 

You don’t know how long you walk, instinctively making your way down the street. Your stride is suddenly interrupted when part of your shoe becomes detached, flopping against your heel as you shuffle to a halt. Shaking yourself out of whatever fog you had fallen into, you lean down to inspect your sneaker. You can see in the dark that the back part of the sole on your right shoe has finally given up. The piece of rubber dangles loosely from the rest of the shoe. Prodding the damage gently you’re hardly surprised when another inch peels away from the main shoe. 

“Fuck.” You mutter under your breath, trying to press the rubber back into place hoping that maybe it will magically adhere long enough for you to make it home. A light flashes from behind you on the road, the sound of an engine disrupting the silence of the night. In the headlights you are able to see just how distressed your shoe is, illuminating the irreparable damage. 

Straightening up, you turn slightly to assess the oncoming car. Its headlights blind you for a moment, you lift your hand to shield your eyes as the car comes closer. You can tell it’s slowing down as it approaches you. Your heart beats a little faster, you try to tell yourself it’s probably nothing, just a concerned Hawkins resident out for a drive… in the middle of the night. You take a step back, off the road, your muscles tensing in preparation, keeping your arm loose at your side, knowing that it will take you 2 seconds to get the knife from your ankle. 

The car comes to a stop beside you, the drivers’ window already lowered. You can’t see into the car, your eyes struggling to readjust.

“Didn’t you learn your lesson last time you almost froze to death?” The driver says. Of course. As your eyes focus you can make out Billy’s sharp features, his white teeth flashing as he grins up at you. You can’t stop the upward tilt of your own lips, your stomach twisting at the familiarity of the situation.

“What can I say? My tutor says I’m a slow learner.” You say with a shrug, crossing your arms over your chest. Billy huffs a laugh, rolling his eyes. 

“Sounds like a smart guy.” He replies with a smirk. Before you can reply he cuts you off. “If you keep standing there giving me attitude your fingers are going to freeze. Get in the car before I have to drag your ass to the hospital.” You open your mouth to refuse but as you shift your feet you feel the sole of your shoe slide, reminding you of your current predicament. Another mile and you’ll be hopping on one foot. 

“Fine.” You agree. If it were another day you would laugh at the surprised look on Billy’s face. In all the times he’s offered to give you a ride, this is one of the first times you’ve actually accepted. “But only because I think my foot would actually get frostbite if I don’t, and I don’t feel like getting a lecture from my mom if I get taken to the hospital.” You explain, walking around the car, limping with the awkward flop of your sole with each step. 

Billy reaches over the seat to unlock your door before you get to it, rolling up his window as you climb in. The heat from inside the car washes over you, drawing your attention to how cold your limbs had grown. You hadn’t even noticed. Sliding into the passenger seat, you close your door and buckle your seatbelt. 

“Why are you limping?” Billy asks, his eyes searching over you in the dim light of the car before reaching above him to flick on the interior lights. He looks you over from head to toe, searching for any sign of injury. You prop your foot up on your knee, allowing the light to shine down on your busted sneaker. 

“Looks like they just finally gave up.” You comment, flicking the dangling piece of rubber. Billy’s expression relaxes slightly, seeing that it’s just your shoe falling apart, not you. 

“What are you doing walking out here anyway?” He asks, flicking off the light. “I thought you left with Harrington.” He says, turning away from you to face the road, putting the car into gear. You can see his shoulders tense, despite how calm his voice sounds, the muscle in his jaw fluttering. 

“I just drove him home.” You tell him, watching his expression carefully from the corner of your eye as you lean forward pretending to look at your shoe. You wonder why he would be so curious. You know he had seen you leave with Steve so why was he… Suddenly something occurs to you.

“What are You doing here?” You ask pointedly. You hear his hands tightening around the wheel, his gaze locked forward, again that muscle in his jaw ticks. 

“I was just in the area.” He says, attempting to keep his tone casual. You know he’s lying. It’s getting too easy to read him these days. 

“I saw you at Tinas’.” You tell him. His eyes flicker to you briefly before returning to the road. 

“I saw you too.” He says, his voice suddenly hard. Your stomach drops uncomfortably and you look back to your foot. You aren’t sure why you feel like you’ve done something wrong. You grit your teeth together in irritation. You did absolutely nothing wrong. You were just hanging out with Steve, Billy was the one with some girl hanging all over him.

“I thought you would have wanted to stay at the party. You looked pretty… occupied.” You try to keep your voice indifferent but a slight bitterness tinges the edges despite your efforts. You hate the jealous feelings swirling in your gut. You have no claim to Billy. The two of you hardly tolerate each other. 

Still, you find it hard to ignore the fact that there is something volatile between you, something wild, almost dangerous. You’ve been trying to stamp out the ember between the two of you since you met, somehow it keeps flickering back to life fanning itself into a flame the closer the two of you get. 

“Yea, if I was desperate and bored enough I might have considered it.” Billy says, immediately catching what you're alluding to. Who you’re alluding to. “Girls like that are only fun for a minute, they tend to get a bit clingy if you give them a taste.” He goes on, shooting you a devilish smirk, explaining it to you like it’s the most simple thing in the world. Your face burns at the implication of his words.

“oh.” Is all you can manage, toying with your shoelace hoping the dim lighting hides your undoubtedly flushed cheeks. Billy chuckles lightly, seemingly amused by your lack of response. You should be used to this, he’s always saying things to fluster you, he must get a kick out of it or something. He clears his throat after a beat, keeping his eyes ahead. 

“I thought you would have wanted to stay at Harringtons’, sure he wouldn’t have minded.” His tone sounds shockingly similar to how yours had, going for casual but a bitter undertone slipping through. The meaning behind his words is not lost on you. 

“We’re friends.” You say, reflexively defensive. Billy scoffs.

“Right.” He says, shaking his head. It’s clear he doesn’t believe you. You cut your eyes to him in a narrowed glare.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, letting your irritation bleed through. Billy seems unaffected, his shoulders shaking slightly with a humorless laugh. 

“Come on, Loca. I know you’re crazy but I didn’t know you were blind too.” He says, his smirk taking on the wolfish aspect you associate with his cruelty. “He hangs around you like a love-sick puppy! He can’t go two seconds without touching you. You’re really going to try and tell me you’re ‘just friends’?” He asks, lifting a brow in disbelief. Your face flushes with anger replacing any sort of embarrassment you would feel at Billy’s description of yours and Steves’ relationship. 

“Steve is going through a lot right now.” You respond tensely, meeting his eyes evenly. He turns his eyes back to the road, another dry laugh escaping him, causing you to grit your teeth harder. 

“Oh right! I forgot who I was talking to. The saint of Hawkins High, trying to save poor Stevie boy from his broken heart.” Your anger flares in your chest, pulsing against your ribs. Billy didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. He didn’t know Steve, he didn’t know what the two of you had been through together. How much death and darkness you had helped each other through. You would be DEAD without Steve Harrington. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You hiss, struggling to keep your hands from shaking in anger, curling them into fists in your lap. Billy doesn’t miss this, he keeps pushing. 

“Trust me, the broken heart routine only lasts until he gets what he wants form you loca.” He tells you harshly. You scoff at that.

“Oh and you’re an expert, right? Had a lot of practice?” You spit back. You think you see hurt flash across his face but only for a moment and he’s back to himself. 

“I may not be an expert but I’ve definitely been around the block a few times.” He tells you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as they pull back from his teeth in a knowing grin. “Which is more than you can say if your reaction this afternoon is anything to go off of.” You gap at him, your anger coming to a screeching halt as you try to think of a response.

“I- That- That’s none of your business.” You blurt out. Billy laughs again. 

“Oh don’t be embarrassed loca, we all have to start somewhere.” He coos, giving you a look of fake sympathy. “I’m just surprised you’ve made it this long with how Harrington seems to be pawing at you.” You know he’s trying to hurt you. You’re not sure why, but he couldn’t be further from the truth.

“I told you it’s not like that.” You insist, pressing yourself further into your seat, turning your body away from him to face the window. You watch the dark shapes blur past, melting together. 

“What’s it like then?” He asks. You know he doesn’t expect a response. Anyone else would have nothing to say to that. But there is a small part of you that needs him to understand. You’re not sure why, but you tell him the truth. Or at least part of it.

“Steve was there when I was attacked last year.” You say calmly. It’s like all the air is sucked out of the car. Billy says nothing. You can feel his eyes on the back of your shoulder, where he knows the top of your scars starts. He’s seen them, he knows how the skin is puckered, still angry and raised along the flesh of your back, you know he’s picturing them. “He’s the one who drove me to the hospital, thinking I was dead. He held my hand when I was in a coma, visited me as much as he could when I woke up, brought me homework, kept me company even when I thought I didn’t want it.” You speak without emotion. These are all facts. It’s who Steve was even before he became one of your closest friends. “He’s been a good friend to me. An amazing friend.” You let yourself smile gently at the thought. “I intend to be the same for him.”

The car gently comes to a stop in front of your house. You turn back to Billy. He’s not smiling now, any trace of the cocky Billy that was teasing you moments ago is gone. Instead he keeps his eyes straight ahead, his knuckle white where they grip the wheel. He is eerily still, his tense shoulders barely rising with each breath. There is a beat of silence. It feels like you’re balancing on a tightrope, one wrong move and Billy will snap. 

“Thanks for the ride.” You nearly whisper, unbuckling your seatbelt. You reach to open your door, Billys’ hand on your arm stops you. You turn back to meet his gaze in the dim light of the car, he looks almost angry, his eyes intense as he focuses on your face. You steel your nerves, preparing for whatever hurtful comment he has ready.

“I didn’t know.” He says softly. The contrast between the hard edges of his expression and the gentleness of his tone is extreme. You realize then that the anger in him is for himself. You soften, knowing this is the closest to an apology Billy can give you. 

“It’s okay. You know now.” You tell him. His expression only tightens, his hand gentle on your arm tenses slightly. Leaning back you take his hand from your arm, holding it in your lap as you turn towards him fully. “It’s okay Billy. I didn’t tell you to make you feel bad.” You explain, hoping he can see the honesty in your eyes. He searches your face, his expression loosening a bit. 

“Why did you tell me?” He asks, keeping his voice low. You hesitate. 

Why did you tell him? Your thumb grazes over the knuckles of his hand, feeling the raised bumps of the scars there. Sometimes you forget that he has scars too, each one with their own story.

“Because I wanted you to know.” Is the only explanation you can offer. You’ve felt a connection to Billy from the moment he almost hit you with his car. Somewhere along the way between nearly dying again and living with the mess your life has become, you’ve found yourself drawn closer and closer to this angry boy. You want to tell him the truth, to offer him a part of you so few have access to. There is no explanation for it but you want to know Billy and you want him to know you too. 

It must be enough for him because after searching your face a moment longer, his shoulders relax slightly. You fight the urge to lean closer and use your fingers to smooth out the tension in his jaw.

You know what the stubble would feel like, you felt it against your neck earlier today. Your stomach swirls at the memory. You worry that he can see the thoughts dancing through your mind with how his eyes search yours. His hand gently takes one of yours, his thumb lightly swiping over your palm sending a shiver up your arm. 

“Come over tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at 12.” Billy tells you. It’s not so much an invitation as a demand. Very Billy. 

“And if I have plans?” You ask, living your brow in challenge. Billys’ small smirk sends warmth flooding through you. 

“Cancel them.” He tells you simply. Before you can reply, Billy cuts you off by bringing your hand to his lips. His breath ghosts over your knuckles as he presses a gentle kiss to the skin. Your hand reflexively tightens in his, the words catching in your throat. Goosebumps explode across your skin and you’re sure your face is so red it’s probably glowing in the dark. 

Billy’s light chuckle only adds to the heat gathering low in your stomach. 

“So that’s how I get rid of the attitude.” Billy muses, watching you closely. He moves to bring your hand to his lips again, turning it slightly to press another kiss to the inside of your wrist. You can barely hear his words over the sound of blood pounding in your ears. “I would have put my mouth on you a lot sooner if I had known that.” He whispers the words against the sensitive skin of your wrist. Just when you think your heart is going to pound out of your chest, Billys’ teeth gently nip at your arm causing you to let out a small gasp. The sudden noise from you seems to break the spell he must have put on you.

You rip your arm out of his grasp, whipping around in your seat to fumble at the door knob. You nearly fall out of the car when you finally fling the door open, the cold December air sobering you up as you scramble from the vehicle. Billy laughs from the driver’s seat, causing you to glare back at him. 

Your only response is to slam the passenger door and turn, striding up your driveway. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, loca! 12 o’clock!” Billy yells from the window before he revs his engine so loudly you’re sure you will be getting a call from your neighbors. You roll your eyes, not bothering to watch as his taillights disappear into the night.

AN: Let me know what you guys think!

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#reader insert #imagine #x reader #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x you #stranger things #billy hargove x reader #billy hargove imagine #billy harringrove #billy x reader #billy fic #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove stranger things #billy hargrove x y/n #billy x y/n #billy x you #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger than fiction #stranger things imagine #steve stranger things #stranger things reader insert #billy stranger things #billy lives #billy deserved better #steve harrington x y/n fluff #Billy Hargrove slow burn

[joshs-big-toe]

you HAVE to write a fic of billy from burn, i beg youusdjfsudfjskdksad

A Quickie to Relax

Heyyyyyy. Again, sorry this took so long. My winter break kinda sucked and I just had no motivation to do anything. I am finally back at it, and have more motivation and yeah thank you for being patient with me! I have another fic coming after this as a little present, so be ready for a Derek Danforth fic! There is going to be an overflow of those coming. Anyways, I love you all who support me and I hope this story lives up to some of my others!

CW: smut, f!reader, oral sex (fem receiving), p in v, dom!billy, semi-rough sex, mentions of firearms(promise that aspect has nothing to do with the sex)

Word Count: 1,505

“Come on Billy, I don't think this is a good idea,” you mumbled as he parked outside of what seemed like an abandoned gas station. The night was cold, an eerie tone filled the air as rain sprinkled down from the cloud-ridden sky. Billy turned to you, setting his jaw in place.

“Y/N, you know the shit I’m in? You said you would do this with me, why are you backing out now?”

“I just…” you hesitated for a moment, thinking before you spoke next. “I just think we may be… Lowballing it with a gas station that looks abandoned.” His face lit up from headlights of a car pulling into the closest gas pump. His eyes showed an emotion you weren’t able to quite put your finger on. You out your hand on his cheek, running your thumb along his cheek bone. “I love you, Billy, but this is fucking stupid. Why can’t we just get out of here, run away and forget about those stupid bikers?” He turned his head away from your touch, a visible frustration setting into his expression. 

“You… You don’t get it, y/n. They’ll kill me if I dont get them that money, you fucking understand that right?” He stared at the front doors of the gas station. “I can’t not do this,” he turned his head to look at you. You stared back into his eyes, wavering concern covering your face. He shook his head. “y/n-”

“Billy, I can’t do this. I think we should just drive and start over-” 

“No, y/n, no!” he shouted, hitting the steering wheel. You jumped, his eyes darting toward you, seeing the obvious discomfort that him shouting gave you. “Jesus, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He grumbled.

You hesitantly lean over the seat, pulling his chin to look at you. “Let me,” you mumble, bringing him closer, your lips grazing against his as you spoke. “Let me help you out there, Billy, maybe clear your mind a little?” You felt him shift in his seat, sighing against your lips before you pressed yours against his. Your eyes fluttered shut, the feeling of his hand resting on the back of your head taking you by surprise. His tongue pushed into your mouth, you groaning at the sensation. He deepened the kiss, pulling you closer to him, his breathing becoming more erratic as the seconds passed. You groaned as his free hand groped over your tits, the heat filling your core with arousal. 

“Get in the back,” he growled. “Now.” You didn’t hesitate, stumbling over the center console and falling onto the back seat. You giggled as he followed suit, landing on top of you, crashing his lips into yours again. His mouth parted slightly, giving you the chance to push your tongue into his mouth, making him groan against you. He pulled you down to where your back was laying against the back seat. “I need,” he panted, fumbling with your jeans. “Need to get this shit off.” You bit your lip as you watched him unzip your jeans, swiftly slipping them off. He looked at you with a hungry expression. You smirked, opening your legs wider for him. “I can see,” he mumbled as he got lower down, his hot breath touching your core. You shuddered as he hooked his finger around your panties, pulling them to the side. “I can see how wet you already are.” His tongue attached to your clit, a low groan escaping his lips. Your back arched as he moved his tongue into your opening, tongue-fucking you. You grabbed his hair, tugging at it softly. A soft moan escaped your lips as you leaned your head back, bumping against the door. 

“Fuck, Billy,” you managed out. His actions became quicker. He grabbed at your thighs, running his nails down them. You moaned, pushing himself onto as much as you could, pushing your thighs against the side of his head. You felt the heat building in your lower belly as Billy attached his tongue to your clit again, relentlessly sucking and nipping on it. His hands grabbed at your hips, borderline suffocating himself as he pushed you further onto his face. He pressed his lips against your clit, sending you over the edge, your body jolting as waves of pleasure ripped from you. Billy did not wait long before sitting up in the seat, unzipping his jeans and pulling them down enough for him to take his cock out, spitting on his hand and stroking himself a couple times before pulling you onto him. His grip on your hips tightened as he pushed into you, giving you a moment to adjust to his size. A hit of frustration hit your mind at the lack of being able to see him, not to mention sucking his dick. You moan as he stretched you out, your head falling onto his shoulder. He began to rock your hips against him. Tremors of pleasure ran through you with the friction of your clit rubbing on his pubic bone. 

“Fucking so wet for me,” Billy mumbled into your ear. “You know just how to take care of me when I get worked up, huh?” He was breathless, but did not stop his own movements of pushing his hips up onto you. You whined at the aggression that was hidden in his movements, but fuck you loved seeing this side of him. He removed a hand from your hip, bringing it up to hair, pulling you back to you could look at him. His nose and cheeks were a shade of red and his mouth was slightly open. “Look at you, all fucked out already and I haven’t even gotten to cum.” You began to speed up your movements, making him suck in a breath of air before letting out a loud groan as he leaned his head back onto the seat. 

“B-Billy-” you moaned out. His movements were sloppy as he trailed sloppy kisses down your neck. 

“Y/n, oh fuck y/n youre so fucking good,” he breathed out. “You take my cock so fucking well, such a good fucking girl.” Heat rose up in you again as you felt his dick twitch inside you, telling you he was close too. He pulled your head back by your hair as you grinded on him, attaching his lips to your neck and sucking at a sensitive spot that send you over the edge. You didnt get much chance to ride your orgasm out before he pushed you off of him. “Fuck,” he groaned, grabbing his cock squeezing it. “Put that pretty mouth of yours to use, now wouldja?” You contorted your body to where you were holding onto him. He grabbed your hair, turning it into a makeshift ponytail, pushing you down onto him. He threw his head back as he stuffed your mouth, thrusting up into you, abusing your throat. You groaned onto him, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. He was so fucking big, but you liked the rough treatment he had with you. Without warning, he held you down onto his cock, the tip pushing against your throat making you gag. He groaned, body confusing as you felt him cum. You took it all, not wanting any to escape your mouth. You pulled off of him, gasping for air. He grabbed your face in his hands, looking you over for a moment. He wiped the tears that fell from your eyes. “Was that too much?” His aggression had turned to concern in an instant. You shook your head, getting your breathing back to mostly normal. 

“H-hot,” you managed out. He smiled, grabbing your jeans off the floor of the back seat, helping you back into them before planting a kiss on your forehead. You watched him pull his jeans back up, buttoning them before reaching into the front seat and grabbing his backpack. 

“Are you ready?” He smiled, clearly less stressed than he was before. 

“You are positive that this is going to be okay?” He reached into the bag, pulling out a gun and tossing it over to you. You looked at him, eyes wide. “What the fuck is this, Billy?”

“It’s not loaded, don't worry. If they feel threatened, they are more likely to comply. You groan, stepping out of the car and tucking the gun into the back of your jeans. You threw your jacket on, thankfully covering the bulk of the gun. You shook your head, looking at Billy over the hood of his car. 

“You are literally so stupid for this, you know.” 

“It’s life or death.”

“Or 5 years in prison.”

“Well, I guess.” He shrugged, shutting the car door and walking behind the car, planting a kiss on your cheek when he approached you. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” You took a deep breath, putting your hands in your jacket pockets as you closely trailed Billy, following him into the gas station to go through with your plan.

#josh hutcherson #josh futterman #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt imagine #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson smut #billy burn #billy burn x reader #derek danforth #derek danforth smut #peeta x reader #thg peeta #josh futturman smut #josh hutcherson x reader

[joshfutturman]

ੈ♡˳ looking for writing requests for any josh hutcherson character!

i already have a couple requests im working on rn but i'd love for you guys to shoot some more my way!!! i rlly need to get my writing inspo back after the cursed shadowban (─‿‿─) ♡

#josh hutcherson #mike schmidt #josh futturman #jhutch #future man #peeta mellark #clapton davis #fnaf #the hunger games #derek danforth #the beekeeper #mike schmidt fnaf #mike fnaf #mike schimdt x reader #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #josh futturman fanfiction #josh hutcherson x reader #josh futturman x reader #billy burn #peeta mellark one shot #peeta mellark x reader #thg

[this-aint-massachusetts]

Cute imagine with Billy!

Imagine sitting up on the roof with him as you share a cigarette. He reaches to grab his lighter to light up another one because the one your smoking right now is running out. But he drops it and it slips into the gutter. You offer to go get it for him so you go to do that but you go to far and fall off and snap your neck and die on impact.

#josh hutcherson #billy burn 2019 #billy burn #burn movie 2019 #imagine #billy burn x you #billy burn x reader #satire

[aeide-thea]

#don't ask me how i ended up here ('was it a fic‚ K?' 'yes‚ obviously it was a fic.') but #this poem somehow makes me think of plath's 'black rook in rainy weather' #not because the poems are at all similar but because it's that feeling of a dull ruinous landscape suddenly illuminated #like. the sestet here is SO workmanlike and wearisome #yesterday. grey. eyes. wise. 'one that is ever kind' right okay you're making up the syllable count. etc etc #and then—'the fire that stirs about her‚ when she stirs‚ / burns but more clearly.' #'o she had not these ways / when all the wild summer was in her gaze.' #like. my god. #the sudden wild white beating of swan's wings. the lift of my battered enraptured heart. #anyway. 'did you know famous poet william butler yeats had his moments‚ actually??' you heard it here extremely not first. #(i mean. that said—imagine writing a poem that ascribed any qualities to a woman you couldn't reassign to a horse.) #(like. billy boy. do you love anything about her but her beauty and her ~spirit~. is she intelligent. is she funny. is she fiercely moral.) #(ah well.) #poetry #w.b. yeats

[spiderking-of-queens]

Chapter Twenty-Six: Leather and Lace

Summary: After showing up on his doorstep, Eddie invites you into his trailer so the two of you can talk things out and kiss a lil. (Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, 6k words)

Warnings: Language, inexperienced!reader, conversations about physical and emotional abuse and death, lil bit of making out, absolutely shameless tooth-rotting fluff (Eddie Munson is my manic pixie dream girl and I’m not sorry 😭)

Tags: @blackbirddaredevil23 @princesseddie @dessxoxsworld​

Series Masterlist

October 5th, 1985

You and Eddie stood on his doorstep embracing for what simultaneously felt like an eternity and not nearly long enough. Then he pulled away and looked down at you, cupping your jaw and swiping at your cheek lovingly with his thumb.

“Do you wanna come in so we can talk?” He asked, nodding towards the door behind him.

You swallowed nervously. You had promised him that you would explain yourself if that’s what he wanted, and you at least owed him that. That didn’t make the idea of having to give him half-truths any easier, though, even with Max’s blessing. But you nodded anyways and he stood aside, his back holding open the screen door with his arm outstretched into his entryway. You grinned at him and walked in. 

“Probably not what you’re used to,” He said as he closed the door behind the two of you. You could tell by his tone that it was an actual source of discomfort for him, and you immediately wanted to squelch it. 

“You’re right,” You shrugged, “Because it feels like… an actual home. It’s really nice.” It was true. It felt warm compared to your cold, overly tidy parents’ house. It felt like people actually lived there. Like it belonged to an actual family. You glanced at Eddie over your shoulder and he nodded kindly, seeming to understand what you meant by the sentiment. Then you turned back around and scanned the room, letting out a little laugh from what you were seeing. 

“Very impressive hat collection. Who does that belong to?”

“Those are my uncle’s. Not exactly my style.”

“Ah. Right. And the mugs?”

“That’s a… joint effort, I guess.”

“Very nice.”

You walked back over to a shelf near the front door and tapped a fingernail against one of the mugs. 

“This one is my favorite, I think,” You giggled. It was shaped like Garfield the cat. Eddie grinned at you sheepishly. 

“Already claiming your stake, huh? Okay. That one can be yours whenever you come over.”

You couldn’t help blushing at the idea of making yourself at home there from then on out. It was exciting. 

“Thanks,” You said shyly, then looked over his shoulder to peer down the hallway. “Is that your room down there?”

“Oh. Uh…yeah. Hold on a sec.”

He held up a finger before jogging down the hall and disappearing into his room. He left a few seconds later carrying some bits of trash into the bathroom. 

“Everything okay?” You asked with a giggle. “We can stay out here if you want.”

“No, no. It’s fine!” He called before rushing back in to continue his half-assed cleaning. Then he reappeared in the doorway, slightly out of breath, and gestured for you to come in with a little bow. As soon as you walked through, you couldn’t help grinning. 

You glanced around at the remaining clutter: clothes strewn around the room, his unmade bed, books and magazines on the floor, a billow of smoke still remaining from a freshly snuffed out cigarette in his nightstand ash tray. 

You turned back around to see him leaning against his doorframe with his arms crossed.

“What?” He asked quizzically, studying the amused look on your face.

“You’re such a… boy,” You giggled.

“Yes,” He snorted. “I am. Is that news to you?”

“No. It’s just so… you in here.”

“Is that… a good thing?”

You looked around again. You couldn’t believe you were actually standing in his bedroom, finally part of his world. 

“Yeah,” You nodded. “It is. A very good thing.”

He lowered his eyes and scratched the back of his neck shyly, then cleared his throat and rushed forward to his ashtray to make sure the cigarette was fully out before going to open his window. 

“Sorry about the smell. I know you don’t approve of my smoking habits.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind,” You said with a shrug. 

You really didn’t. It just smelled like him.

You turned your head to look at the posters on his walls as he stood by his window and watched you. There was a large Corroded Coffin banner next to him, the same jagged font he had scribbled into his notebook that day in class when you couldn’t resist watching him. The first time he spoke to you and you were too nervous to say anything back. The memory made you smile. You’d come such a long way since then. 

You stepped away from Eddie towards his dresser that was littered in all kinds of knick knacks. You picked up a red yo-yo that was sitting on one of his amps and heard him take a step towards you from behind your back.

“So, are you gonna tell me what you’ve been hiding from me, or are you just gonna keep snooping around?” He teased. 

“I’m not snooping,” You scoffed indignantly, then spun around to look up at him innocently. You were momentarily taken aback by how close he actually was to you. “I’m… observing. You can tell a lot about someone by what they have in their room.”

“Uh huh,” He muttered, taking another step forward so that his face was hovering just above yours and the toes of his sneakers bumped up against your shoes. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

He lifted up the hand you were holding his yo-yo with and took it from your grip, then held your arm as he reached around you to put it back down on his dresser. When he straightened up in front of you again, you smirked up at him. 

“What, are you scared I’m gonna figure you out before you can figure me out?” You taunted him.

He snorted but didn’t justify this with a response. He just leaned in to kiss you on the forehead, then sat down on his bed and patted the spot beside him before reaching up for your hand. You sighed and let him hold it as you reluctantly sat next to him. 

“What’s going on, Y/N?” He asked gently, smoothing his thumb over the top of your hand comfortingly. 

“You’re… gonna have to be more specific.”

“Okay. Who keeps hurting you? Let’s start there.”

You tried to push away the waves of guilt that were threatening to wash over you as he peered into your eyes with worry. You went over the conversation you had with Max in your car to try to convince yourself that you were about to do the right thing, and heard her voice clear as day in your head telling you which stories to share with him. You took a deep breath and hoped to god that your practice with hiding things would pay off with Eddie, despite the fact that he was very good at getting you to open up.

“You remember Billy Hargrove, right? Max’s stepbrother?”

He nodded. 

“It was him. He was the one who… hit me last year. He was hurting Steve, he practically almost killed him, and I tried to intervene and got caught in the crossfire. He knocked me out cold without even really trying. I hit my head on a table and got a concussion.”

“Jesus Christ,” He winced, shifting uncomfortably at the image. “That motherfucker. Why would… why was he laying into Steve like that? Were you and Billy… were you guys together at one point or something? Was he jealous?”

You couldn’t help laughing aloud at the idea of that. 

“No, no! Absolutely not. He just… he really liked to torture Max. To control her. And Steve and I were just trying to look out for her. To keep him away from her and Lucas. But he didn’t like that, clearly… He was kind of a… terrible person.”

Eddie lowered his eyes, trying to make sense of this answer, then shook his head. 

“Sounds familiar,” He mumbled, then took a deep breath and asked, “So… you and Harrington were just looking out for Max and Lucas that night?”

You couldn’t help briefly averting your eyes from him before you lied and answered, “Yes.”

It was technically the truth… just not the complete truth. 

“You’re telling me that Steve Harrington got his ass kicked for a couple of kids?”

“…Yes.”

“Steve?” He repeated, his eyebrows raised in shock. It was ironic that the one thing that was fully true was the part he refused to believe. 

“He can be… a very surprising person. I tried to tell you. He has his moments.”

“And you got hurt because you threw yourself in the middle of their fight to try to protect him?”

You nodded. 

“Now, that part doesn’t surprise me. Not one bit.” He shook his head and chuckled. “Remind me, which one of us likes to rescue people again?” He teased, referencing the last conversation the two of you had in his van. You smiled shyly at him and shrugged, and he gave your hand a little squeeze. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me all of that from the start, Y/N?”

“I don’t know. I just… couldn’t.” You hesitated, your breath catching, then decided to continue speaking. “There’s… something else I want to tell you, too, but I don’t really know how to say it.”

He pursed his lips, then nodded in understanding.

“Is it about… what happened at the mall?”

You nodded back, staring down at your hands, and Eddie brought one of them to his lips to try to refocus your attention. 

“Take your time,” He murmured against your fist. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You steeled yourself, preparing your half-truths, then took a deep breath. 

“Billy, he… attacked me again that night. For the same reason. I was trying to protect… Max. And we… I … saw him die afterwards. In the… fire. I watched it happen.”

His eyes widened in horror, and he blinked a few times as he tried to register this new information and formulate what to say. 

“Holy… shit,” He stammered nervously. “That’s… fucking terrible. I’m really sorry you had to see that.”

You lowered your eyes, your forehead scrunching up with guilt and pain over this revelation being shrouded in such a big lie. Perpetuating that stupid mall fire cover-up story made you want to scream, but you didn’t feel like you had any other choice. Eddie reached to smooth out the wrinkle between your brows and put a finger under your chin to lift your head up so he could study your face. You couldn’t look him in the eye. 

“Hey,” He said gently, leaning a little closer to you. “What are you thinking? Talk to me.”

You made the mistake of finally looking into his eyes as he scrutinized you, and once again found yourself trapped in them. There was something in them that made you want to give yourself up to him completely. Some kind of curse. It felt like your brain was short-circuiting. 

Before you could vomit up every last detail of your absolutely insane year, you closed your eyes and forced yourself to think about Billy again instead, and to think about how you felt talking to Max about him in your car. This mixed with the frustration of not being able to be fully honest with Eddie filled you with a sudden feeling of rage. You sucked in air through your nose and opened your eyes again.

“I really hate him,” You admitted through gritted teeth, then paused to release your breath. “I still hate him, even though he died the way he did. I actually think I hate him more for it. I hate what it did to Max, and I hate that I see his lifeless face at night when I close my eyes. I hate that because of him, I’m scared all the time. And I always feel so fucking ashamed because of it. Not because I didn’t save him, because I don’t think I could have if I had even tried. But about how I’ve handled it with my friends and with you. About how I can’t stop… thinking about it. It’s consuming me. Seeing that happen to someone… seeing someone take their last breath like that… I’m never going to be able to forget or forgive him. And I hate that most of all. Because I want to. I want it to be like he was never here, or to at least be able to forget that I got my face bashed in by him twice. But instead, he had to go out in a way that was just as brutal and unforgettable as how he lived. He had to leave one last scar. One fucking doozy of a scar. That fucking piece of shit…”

Eddie stared at you in shock. You hadn’t meant to say all of that. You didn’t even really know it was how you felt. But Eddie had coaxed it out of you with one gentle look and a simple question, the way he always did.

The conversation suddenly didn’t feel like a ruse anymore. Now it felt like you had revealed too much.

“I’m so sorry. That was really selfish and fucked up of me to say…” You attempted to backtrack, tensing up and backing away from him.

“No. Hey, you can tell me anything, okay?” He reassured you, gripping your arm gently. “I would never judge you. I can’t even imagine how scary that must have been to see someone die like that, let alone somebody you weren’t… very fond of. It must feel really confusing. But… look, I do know what it’s like to hate somebody for hurting you and people you love. And if that person I’m thinking of dropped dead in front of me today, I think I would feel the exact same way you do. Some people just can’t be fully redeemed, no matter what they do or how…how they die. And just because he died, that doesn’t mean you have to forgive him. Okay? It’s okay. That’s nothing to be ashamed about. That shit, that anger… it lingers. And it’s not your fault.”

You relaxed and let out a shaky breath as he rubbed your arm with his thumb. You didn’t know what to say other than, “Thank you.” Once again, he knew just what to say to ease your mind. He dropped his hand to your thigh, resting it there casually like it didn’t make your skin prickle with electricity. You sucked in a breath again.

“For what it’s worth, I hate him, too,” He mumbled, snapping you out of your reverie. “If he were still alive, I’d find him right now and kill him myself for putting his hands on you and those kids.”

“Eddie…”

“I mean it.”

“I know you do,” You said, putting your hand on top of his. 

“It makes my skin crawl, thinking about it.”

“Don’t think about it. He’s gone. It doesn’t matter anymore, okay?”

He nodded, but lowered his eyes and clenched his jaw, not entirely willing to let go of it just yet. You couldn’t resist distracting him by asking one of the questions you had been biting back ever since you’d known him. Something you had suspected since the moment he discovered your bruises and made it clear that he knew from experience that a fist had caused them, but you were too afraid to find out the truth until now. 

“Did your dad hurt you, Eddie? Is that who you were talking about?”

He looked up at you, slightly surprised, then nodded slowly.

“Me and my mom. Yeah.”

You winced involuntarily and squeezed his hand tighter. 

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re right. He’s gone. Could be dead, too, for all I know. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter. That’s completely different.”

“He can’t hurt me anymore,” He shrugged.

“Yeah. But he did. And that shit lingers,” You quoted him. He smiled sadly at you and interlocked his fingers with yours. 

“Quoting me to me, huh?”

“You can be pretty wise when you want to be.” 

He snorted at you and you reached out to brush his hair out of his face, then scooted closer to him. 

“I would kill your dad, too, you know. If he showed up here right now, there would be no stopping me.”

“Yeah?” He said, his lips turned up in a half-smile as he looked you up and down. 

You traced a finger over his bottom lip and he visibly melted at your touch, his playful demeanor quickly morphing into longing. 

“Yeah. Anybody that could truly know you and not treat you the way you deserve - that could hurt you like that - shouldn’t be allowed to walk the earth.”

“And how exactly do I deserve to be treated?” He asked you, trying his best to keep up his typical lighthearted teasing, but the look on his face and the softness in his voice gave him away.  

You thought about telling him before you decided to show him instead. You wedged yourself into his lap, closing any gap between the two of you, and kissed him softly on his forehead. “Like this,” You whispered. Then you kissed his nose, and his temple, and his cheek, and along his jaw.

You pulled away to look at him and his eyes were closed, his lips parted slightly in contentment. You smiled and leaned in again to kiss both of his eyelids. 

That was what he deserved. Tenderness.

He opened his eyes to look into yours when you brushed your fingertips against his cheek.

“You’re so pretty,” You whispered before you could stop yourself, ruining the moment. He grinned at you and put his hand on the back of your head to pull you into a kiss, then you wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled into the crook of his neck with a loud sigh. He held you around your waist and gave you another kiss on your temple. “And you smell so good. Why do you smell so good?” You groaned in mock frustration, your voice muffled by his mop of hair. You were pressed so tightly to him that you felt his chest heave with laughter. 

“It’s called soap,” He joked. You peeled yourself away from him and cocked your head at him. 

“Don’t tell me,” You said, holding up a finger. “Violet? It’s violet scented soap, isn’t it?”

“I… don’t know. Maybe? I just use whatever cheap shit Wayne buys. Why?” He paused to raise an eyebrow at you suspiciously. “Have you put a lot of thought into this?”

You diverted your attention to the chain around his neck and rolled it between your fingers in an attempt to appear nonchalant.  

“Maybe…” You admitted so quietly that you hoped he wouldn’t hear. But when he tittered at you, you knew he had.  

“Wow, you have a giant crush on me. That’s so embarrassing.”

Your mouth fell open and you scoffed derisively, then pushed him firmly by the shoulder.   

“Hey! Wait a second… who was the one that admitted to having a crush on me since middle school?”

“Was that me? I don’t recall.”

“I’m pretty sure the word you used to describe me was… magic? Is that ringing any bells?”

He squinted as he pretended to try to recall the conversation, then shook his head.

“Nope. Sorry. Wasn’t me.”

“Okay. Fine. My mistake. I’ll just get out of your hair, then…” 

You started to stand up with a barely concealed smirk, and he frantically pulled you back down into his lap by your hips. 

“No, no, wait! I remember now. That was me. Sorry, I thought you were somebody else for a second.”

You chortled, raising your eyebrows at him. 

“Oh, really? Who? One of your other casual relationships?”

He let out a loud laugh and buried his face in your shoulder in shame. 

“Walked right into that one, didn’t I?” He muttered. 

You laughed with him and wiggled your shoulder so that he would sit up straight again.

“You’re kind of an asshole, aren’t you?” You teased.

“…Yes,” He shrugged, a shit-eating grin on his face. “I assumed you already knew that about me.”

You draped your arms around his shoulders and crossed them behind his neck, shaking your head. 

“Nope. Here I was thinking you were some sweet, sensitive guy.”

“Me?” He snorted. “No. Well… maybe just for you.”

“Is that so?”

“Yup.”

“And why is that?”

He didn’t respond with words. He just grinned and leaned in to kiss you.

He adored you. That was why. But even though you were in his room, on his bed, in his arms, kissing him…you couldn’t actually let yourself believe it. You smirked at him and shook your head, then pecked him a couple more times on his lips for good measure.

“Admit that you also have a giant, embarrassing crush on me and I will forgive you.”

“Alright, fine,” He groaned. “I have a massive, disgusting crush on you. And you are magic. I stand by it. I don’t care if it’s corny. It’s true. Happy now?”

“Extremely,” You nodded.

“Good."

You beamed at him and hugged him tightly to you again, pressing your cheek up against the side of his head. You took a deep breath to relax into him, and inhaled his scent again. An involuntary moan of satisfaction escaped your mouth. 

“Will you please remind me to write a thank you note to Wayne sometime for the soap?” You mumbled into his hair. 

“Will do,” He said with a laugh, then after a few moments he sighed and whispered, “Thank you for explaining everything to me, Y/N. It means a lot to me.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to fight back the guilt again.

“Thank you for wanting to know. For wanting to be in my life. For letting me into yours.”

He turned his head towards you, his nose brushing your ear, and you could feel his lips turned up in an appreciative smile against your cheek. 

“I’m really happy you’re here,” He whispered, his breath against your skin making you shiver. “Which reminds me…”

He gave you a quick kiss on your cheek, then put his hands on your hips again and shifted you off of him so he could stand up. The sudden separation confused (and pained) you.

“Where are you going?” You whined. 

“I believe I promised you I’d lend some tapes,” He mumbled as he went to the corner of his room to rummage through a cabinet overflowing with records and cassettes. 

“Right now?”

“Yeah. It’s getting dark, and I wanna get as much in as I can while I still have you here.”

He walked back over and threw himself back down roughly beside you, shoving a few cassettes into your hands. “Only the best for you. Guard them with your life.”

“But I don’t have anything for you. I just gave away the only tape I had on me.”

“Well, next time, then. If there’s gonna be a next time.”

He was as afraid as you were that this was just a fluke, but he had more reason than you to be worried. You were the one who wavered so many times. He was probably terrified that you would wake up tomorrow and change your mind again. It made your heart ache. 

You put on a smile and answered this non-question by leaning forward to kiss him. He rested his hands on your thighs with a sigh of relief and you set the cassettes aside so you could give his shoulders a little shake. 

“There will be a next time. I promise,” You reassured him, looking him directly in the eyes so he would know you meant it. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He nodded and moved his hands to your backside to try to pull you into his lap again, and you happily scooted closer to him so you could wrap your legs around his torso. He playfully kissed you all over your face to reward your for your affirmations, making you giggle. 

“Maybe I’ll bring you that Stevie Nicks record I was telling you about,” You blurted out nervously, throwing your head back as he moved his lips to your neck and planted kisses to your throat. He stopped suddenly when you said this, and pulled away to look up at you with a bashful smile. 

“What?” You asked anxiously. 

“I already listened to it.”

Your eyebrows raised in shock. 

“H…how? When?” You stammered.

“I went out and bought it the day after I took you out on our ‘non date'.”

“…You liar.”

He shook his head vehemently. 

“I swear to god. Scout’s honor.”

You squinted at him skeptically and unwrapped yourself from him to go over to his music collection. He immediately raced over to stand in front of it, guarding it from you.

“What are you doing?” You protested. 

“I can’t let you look in there.”

“What? Why? Because you are lying?”

You tried to push him aside but he stood firm. 

“No. I’m sorry. It’s too soon.”

“Too soon? Are you afraid you’re gonna lose your metal head credibility or something?”

He didn’t say anything, and your mouth fell open. 

“Oh my god, Eddie, what do you have in there? I gotta see.”

You tried to push him again, but he stuck his arm out to stop you. 

“No!”

“Come on!” You begged, stamping your foot like a child. “I promise I will show you all of the records I have that would make you absolutely cringe if you let me look through these right now.”

“Nah uh. I’m not gonna fall for that,” He argued, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “I know exactly what you’re doing. You say you’re gonna show me yours if I show you mine, and then when the time comes you’re gonna flake out on me.”

You stopped fighting him and stared at him, an eyebrow raised. He snorted as he realized what he said. He had basically called you a tease. 

“Okay, I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t mean for that to sound dirty,” He joked, putting his hands up, and you tried once again to push him aside with a scoff. He giggled and picked you up effortlessly by your waist as you squealed in surprise, then threw you down on his bed while you laughed uncontrollably. You both stayed there for a while, laughing together as you gazed at each other. Then when you finally settled, he got back up and walked over to pull out a Bella Donna cassette, holding it up to you as proof. 

Your mouth fell open in astonishment as you laid there on his bed watching him, propped up on your elbows. 

“Oh ye of such little faith,” He joked when he realized how stunned you really were. 

Holy shit. He actually did buy it. This guy really was crazy about you. It absolutely rattled you. Then when the initial shock wore off, a wide smirk appeared on your face. 

“Oh my god. You really do have a giant crush on me.”

“Mhm. I told you.”

“So embarrassing.”

“So embarrassing,” He agreed. 

He put it away and walked back slowly to you, sitting down on the edge of his bed away from you. You didn’t budge. You just stared back at him, willing him to move closer to you. When he received the message, he scooted over and leaned down to kiss you. You struggled to balance on one elbow as your other hand found its way into his hair, so you laid down fully and pulled him down with you. He situated his body on top of yours and you instinctively made space for him between your legs, bending your knees around his hips. 

The kiss started to get a little sloppier after a while - a little hungrier - and you found yourself gasping for air. Eddie noticed and pulled away for a minute to give you a chance to breathe, but then quickly moved to your neck instead, only causing you to pant more irregularly. He began to kiss his way down to your chest, his hand gripping your thigh tightly, and you knew then that if you let him continue like that, neither of you would want it to stop. 

“Eddie, at the risk of sounding like a tease again,” You quipped breathlessly, referring to his earlier jest about the records, “I, uh, think we should take things slow. Is that okay?”

He lifted his head up to look at you and jokingly let out a groan, then immediately dropped the act and planted a chaste kiss to your cheek. 

“I’ll do anything you want me to,” He promised, rolling off of you to lay on his side next to you. Then he smirked and added, “And I do mean anything.”

You rolled over too to face him and squinted at him disapprovingly, even though the way he said ‘anything’ sent a tingle through you.

“Slow, Munson. Slow,” You reminded him.

“Right,” He nodded. “But not as slow as we were moving, I hope…”

“No, definitely not that slow,” You laughed. “But this is nice, right?” You brushed his hair back behind his shoulder and he hummed contentedly, then put his hand on your waist to pull your body a little bit closer to him. 

“Yes. This is very nice,” He sighed, closing his eyes. “I really like kissing you.”

“I really like kissing you, too.”

“And to think, it only took us several years to get here,” He teased, giving your hips a playful little shake. 

“Hey, that’s a new personal best for me.”

You both laughed at this, but the sad part was that it was actually true. That was a separate conversation, though. 

His eyes were still closed and he seemed fully relaxed and peaceful despite your abrupt cutoff of your make-out session, and it made you smile to see him so happy. You liked being the reason for that look of relief on his face. You inched your face closer to his and rubbed your nose against his to get him to open his eyes again. Your attempt was unsuccessful, so you decided to ask him a question instead to capture his attention. 

“So, tell me,” You whispered. “What did you think about the record? Which song was the least painful to listen to?”

He smiled and stretched his back like a cat, making a little sound, then finally blinked his eyes open.

“Hm. Well, to be honest… I actually cried a little when I listened to Leather and Lace.”

“You did not,” You said flatly. 

“Okay, no I didn’t,” He admitted with a chuckle. “But it did make me feel… something. It made me think of you a little bit.”

Once again, you were shocked and unwilling to believe that he was that perfect. 

“You’re so full of shit,” You scoffed. He scrunched up his eyebrows like a pouting child. 

“When have I ever lied to you?” He defended himself. You shook your head in disbelief.

“Are you even real?”

“I don’t know. Am I? You tell me.”

You reached out to poke his cheek, and he swatted your hand away with mock aversion.

“You seem to, in fact, be real. But honestly there’s still a very good chance that I’m just crazy.” 

“Fuck,” He groaned dramatically in despair. “Two crazy people together? I don’t know if we can do this. How will we balance each other out?”

“We’ll make it work. We’re Leather and Lace, baby.”

His hand was laying in between your face and his, and you reached out to hook your pinky around his. He grinned and reciprocated it, balling his fingers up into a fist and kissing it at the same time as you kissed your own hand.   

“Which one am I? Leather or lace?” He asked you. 

Before you’d really gotten to know him, before today, you would have said leather. But now that you were laying beside him and he was practically a melted Eddie puddle from just a few minutes of kissing, you realized that he was undeniably soft. 

“I think maybe it’s gonna depend on the day,” You finally decided. 

He thought about it, then pursed his lips and nodded. 

“Fair enough.”

Some days you would be his strength, and some days he would be yours. You liked the idea of that. Of sharing your life with him like that. Of being equal partners. You were ready for the challenge of give and take that came with a relationship. You’d never been in this position before. You’d never let somebody in like this, or wanted to be let in the way he had let you into his life. It was thrilling. Terrifying, but in a good way. 

You wrapped your arms around his waist and buried your face in his chest, and the two of you laid together in silence until all of the daylight outside disappeared and you reluctantly decided that it was time for you to go.

“Are you sure you have to leave?” He whined as the two of you said your goodbyes outside. 

“Yes. I don’t want to, but I stole one of my parents’ cars again and they’re getting dangerously close to their hatred for me surpassing their desire to control me. I’ll be out on my ass soon if I keep pushing it. I’ve just gotta play it safe for a little while longer until I’m able to afford my own place. Then you can see me anytime you want to.”

He nodded and looked down at your hand, then hooked his pinky around yours again.

“You’re always welcome here, you know,” He shrugged, “If you ever need an escape.”

“Thank you,” You said with a grateful smile, and brushed some of his hair that the evening breeze had blown into his face away from his cheek. “I’m counting on that. Don’t forget, I will be seeing the rest of those records someday, Eddie Munson.”

“Fine. Someday.” 

His lips turned up in a smile at that word. Someday. There would be more days like this. It made you happy, too. He wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed you deeply, slowly, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. 

“So, what am I, like, your boyfriend now?” He barely pulled away to ask it, murmuring it into your lips before pressing another soft kiss to them. 

“Do you wanna be my boyfriend?” You asked with a smirk, your fingers stroking the back of his neck. He pulled away fully to smile down at you. 

“Yeah. I do.”

“Okay. Good. I wanna be your girlfriend.”

“Well, okay. That was easy,” He snorted. “I like the sound of that. I’ve never called anyone my girlfriend before.”

You were slightly surprised to hear this, but not completely considering the way he had described his past relationships. 

“I’ve never called anybody my boyfriend before.”

“Good.”

“Good,” You agreed. 

“Bye, girlfriend,” He sighed and let you go. 

“Bye, boyfriend. I’ll see you later."

You backed away from him and nearly stumbled down his steps because you were too busy watching him to pay attention to where you were stepping. You did your best to pretend like it didn’t happen, brushing your hair behind your ear timidly before you turned around to walk towards your car. 

“I’m gonna be thinking about you tonight,” He called out, his arm up against the door frame as he watched you go. 

“You do that,” You spun around momentarily to call back, smiling smugly. 

“You gonna think about me?”

“I’m gonna have to to help me get through all of these,” You teased, looking at him over your shoulder while holding up the tapes he gave you. He pretended to stab himself in the heart, this time without the dramatics and with a satisfied smile on his face. It seemed more like Cupid’s arrow than a dagger. 

You could feel him watching you as you put your things in the car, and you hesitated for a moment before shamelessly running back to jump on him, wrapping your legs around his torso and your arms around his neck to kiss him again. He seemed to be overjoyed by the display as he let out a gleeful laugh and grinned a toothy, proud grin.

“Can I see you tomorrow?” You asked shyly after he set you back down on his porch gently. 

“You can see me anytime you want,” He nodded happily. “That’s what boyfriends are for.”

“Will you pick me up?”

“Lunchtime?”

“Sure.”

“It’s a date.”

You beamed at his unabashed use of the word ‘date’ and pecked him on the lips one more time, then reluctantly peeled your arms away from his neck to leave him. You couldn’t help turning around a couple more times to look at him as you walked back to your car, and he waved at you one last time before he ducked back through his front door.

In the same moment that your hand grabbed for your car door handle, your eyes landed on Max crouched on the ground nearby as she fed one of her neighbor’s dogs through a chainlink fence. You froze as if you were a criminal caught in the act. You were glad it was too dark for her to see the blush that was forming on your cheeks. 

She stood up and waved at you, wiggling her fingers with a devious smile on her face. You weren’t sure how much of your public display of affection she had seen. 

“Looks like somebody had a good night,” She called.

“Yes. Yes I did, thank you,” You called back, trying your best to keep up a composed, cool demeanor to hide your embarrassment.

“Told you so!” She added smugly, and you couldn’t hold back an eye roll.

As she laughed at you, you stuck your tongue out at her and waved back with a middle finger for good measure before getting into your car. She would definitely be using this moment as ammunition to make fun of you for a very, very long time. 

#eddie munson #stranger things #st4 #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things reader insert #stranger things imagine #stranger things fluff #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x inexperienced!reader #eddie munson slow burn #steve harrington #joseph quinn #joe keery #max mayfield #billy hargrove #lucas sinclair #lumax #joseph quinn reader insert #joseph quinn x y/n #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn fanfiction #friends to lovers

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Lapses

Billy x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: In the wake of death our minds begin to wander. To better times, to little moments. Reality is so fickle in the minds of the weak. But he's coming back. Eventually.

Tags: No use of Y/N, hurt/no comfort, set mostly during the nine months Reader spent grieving before Billy returned in 'My Ghost,' disassociation, distorted reality, death, references to 'Twin Peaks' (1992).

Previous Works in Series: 'My Ghost' (original) • 'Repentance' (prequel)

Warning: You should at minimum read 'My Ghost' before reading this work in the series first. (For best reading experience, please read both previous works beforehand.)

Notes: :)

-¤°》◇《°¤-

Down comes clumps of wet snow from the grey sky, falling.

                And falling.

                         And falling.

I don't know when I wake up.

The TV has been on for hours. Flashing the same photos.

He smiled at me from across the room.

Don't think. Don't perceive. Don't focus.

"I think you look pretty with your hair like that," I told him. His cheeks are so rosy when he smiles.

Smiled.

Why is he smiling?

Where is that photo even from? Have they contacted me with any new details? Check your email.

"Is the internet working? I can't get this fucking email to go through."

He left on an errand.

"Did the auto-payment go through for the bill?"

He's coming back.

"You didn't tell me that was due, I don't have anything on the account."

He's coming back.

"You don't have anything?"

He's coming back.

"I don't have anything."

What are you supposed to do after a death?

There's no guide. There's no instruction manual. Grieve, move on. That's it. That is all we know. How am I supposed to do the second if the general public disapproves so heavily of the first?

There's a long while I don't even leave my house. I lock the doors, shut the curtains tight and nail them to the walls so he can't leave. Like he's captured in my basement, wilting in the darkness as I try to preserve his voice ringing in my ears like the sirens on the TV I eventually break when I throw the remote at it in a fit of rage and desperation.

"It's a piece of shit anyways," Billy would say when he saw it again. "I always meant to buy us a new one."

First thing I did when I found out was rip open my nightstand drawer. "William, have you ever shot a man?" I ask, bolting upright as I wipe the crust from my eyes.

"What the fuck did you do? What the fuck did you do?" I whispered under my breath. "Where the fuck is the gun?in my nightstand. And if I don't get some sleep soon, I'm going to use it. I haven't before, but I can't imagine it's hard."

I tore the house apart looking for it. He's unwell. Wasn't it just last night he was curled on my bed, so sweet and small as he stared at the wall in front of him?

He didn't feel well. He said his stomach hurts. My stomach hurts. Must have been something he ate, he mentioned a mistake. He wouldn't do this of his own free will, I know him.

He walks through the living room, pulling on a jacket to fight the cold air that seeps through the thin windows.

"Whatcha watching?"

Your report "'Twin Peaks,'" I told him.

"Oh shit, seriously? I haven't seen that since high school," he laugh'sowhodoicallabouttheremains?"

"Apparently they came out with a new season," I said. "Got us a free trial if we wanna watch."

"We gotta start from the beginning. Won't make sense if we don't," he says as he throws himself and one other dead thus far against the couch, almost landing on top of me in his excitement. It makes me scream.

Our first date was a little bit of a mess. I wasn't really expecting to meet someone when I did. But I met him. And he was sweet.

"So he didn't tell you anything about this?"

I've dated. I've seen a few guys. Not to sound easy, it was only a handful. But I'd only dated one other guy seriously. It was high school, lasted all the way through. Didn't end well.

"He was running an errand. He does it all of the time."

Billy picked me up fifteen minutes early. Claimed Google overshot the time estimate to my address, so he left early. Later he admitted it was a lie.

                                   But he's not a liar. Why won't anyone believe me?

"What does he do on the errands?"

"I don't know, get groceries or something. I never asked."

                         I never wanted to know.

Billy hasd this romantic side to him. Oh yes, Mister 'Primps and Primes in Front of The Mirror For an Hour Just To Get Drinks' had a flare for the dramatics. Who would have thought? And he showed up with this grocery store bouquet of lilies and baby's breath mixed with wildflowers from the local park.

"They price the hell out of these things for half the product. Figured I'd give you the proper amount," he said with a wink.

"Did you know he was affiliated with gang activities?"

"No!" Yes. "Of course not!" I helped him pack a bag of coke about a week ago.

Did you know that I love the color blue?

                                                                        No.

Mm hmm. Had it on everything. Even dyed my hair that color in high school.

      You with blue hair? You're full of shit.

No, I'm serious! Hated the bleaching process though. Do you know how bad it looks when you grow out dark hair from neon blue?

                          I imagine It'd look co-

Ld.

                              It's cold.

It's been a week. The police have decided I have nothing to do with this. The town has nothing to do with me.

The house is in shambles. But some things are prestine. Like his ashtray sitting on the kitchen table. I kept the surface clean for him, for when he comes back. A string of photos is on the wall from when we went to the arcade and found a photo booth. Half of them are photos of us just looking at each other. Not kissing. Not smiling. Just looking. He has such gentle eyes, you know? I tried to draw them once. They're really hard. They're just so soft, just the right angle. The skin on his eyes crease so specifically. And if you don't draw them right, it doesn't look like him at all. Told him I was gonna get it perfect eventually.

"I may have to go away for a little bit."

They won't give me anything to bury. They won't let him come home. One time Billy was trapped at a bus station during a snow storm and couldn't come home. He'd been running an errand for a friend. I think I know who that friend is now. Billy could hardly even call on the phone from how bad the storm was. He was so cold. Said he wished I was here. Said how much he misses me. Said there was a rerun of 'Twin Peaks' at the station keeping him company. So I put on the same episode and stared at the TV while I waited for him to regain service and let me know where he was. I told him to give me a call when he could.

I'm at the bottom of his closet. Our closet. I don't know why I'm here.

       When I was a child, I liked small spaces

Yeah?

"This is a hard time. It's only natural that you're grieving," says my mother on the other side of the phone.

A month ago Billy sat across from me, eyes trained on the TV as we smoked our way through season two.

"If I have a psychotic break, would you reenact history for me?" He teased around his joint.

"Why don't you go to church?"

"No one talks to me there. I've tried, momma. They hate me. They keep thinking I was in on it." I helped him pack a bag of coke.

"God won't judge you."

Scientists aren't really sure what happens to your mind when you die.

I've looked it up. Once. Read an article. Well, read is a strong word. More accurately I stared at it on my ancient computer I'd had since college while I disassociated for hours on end trying desperately to concentrate. Maybe it's morbid, but when your soon-to-be husband dies in a fire one is prone to wonder about such a thing.

Recent articles suggest DMT- a psychedelic drug that can occur naturally in plants -can actually be produced by your brain in the final moments of brain activity.

"Do you think there's anything after this?" He'd asked me one time as we layed beneath the stars, sand in our hair from the beach of the lake.

"I think we see what we need so that we'll be content as we drift away."

"Studies of animals undergoing brain death have found that the organ begins to release numerous signaling molecules and creates unusual brainwave patterns to try to resuscitate itself, even as it shuts down external signs of consciousness."

I'm sorry. I can't focus anymore. On anything. I feel like my lungs are being squeezed from bottom to top like a tube of gogurt.

We were hardly paying attention to the show anymore. So smoked out it was hilarious to us, laughing at everything as we focused on nothing except for the feeling of each others skin. My hands on his cheeks, his hands covering mine so soothingly. It was so sweet when he guided me off the floor where I lay. Julee Cruise sang on the old TV. Falling, falling. All I can feel is falling as he guides me into a gentle sway across the old shag carpet lit with the mid-July sunset, holding me like I'll fall far, far away.

"I think I've fallen in love with you," Billy whispered against my ear. His breath is warm.

"Yeah?" I'm too high for this conversation. I didn't even realize how low my tolerance had gotten since the last time I smoked. "You make me feel like I'm in high school again."

We'd danced the whole night. He didn't know hardly any of the songs, causing him to be off beat. I was too drunk to keep time, so I stepped on his leather boots enough times there was a visible scuff on the top of one by the end of the night. I always felt bad, offering to replace or help pay to fix it. He wouldn't let me.

"I could die tomorrow and I'd be happy," Billy confessed in a strained voice, finally letting all of the walls come tumbling down around us to the gentle beat of the song. "I'm so glad I got to meet you."

I was so nervous during our first date that I forgot how to eat hummus properly. It sounds so silly, doesn't it? But there was something about him. He wore this white button up shirt, basic jeans that were tight on his thighs. Not that I was looking. Much. His hair was combed neatly, gelled away from his face in a chic manner. Really, he took the whole thing so seriously he almost looked like some youth pastor they would have shuffled into a room with high schoolers to play a guitar and say 'you know, I was troubled once'  before offering his story of repentance. It was so different from how he usually looked. Was he scared?

But anyways, I was so nervous that when they brought us our tray of hummus and bread to share, I took my little triangle slices and barely dipped them so to not look greedy before shoving the whole piece in my mouth one by one. I didn't even remember I was supposed to tear them apart until a week later. I was just trying to avoid double dipping.

"I think that's the first time I fell in love with you," Billy confessed. I giggle so stupidly, so incredibly high as I float on air.

"Because I was stupid?" I ask.

"Because you were sweet," he said.

There's a long moment of silence, the music swelling and making the cheap TV vibrate from the bass it was unequiped to handle.

"Tell me you'll marry me one day," he whispered.

What do you do with a ring that no one wants you to wear? I'm sorry I couldn't help you.

"Isn't it a little early for that?" I laughed softly.I'm sorry you went out on a romantic whim and borrowed money you shouldn't have for the ring I was too ashamed to wear on the proper finger. "It's only been a year." I don't even think we're dancing anymore. I think I'm sorry you couldn't come back for me.we're just swaying softly to the music flowing around us in a blind stupor, the humidity so suffocating outside that Billy shoved an electric fan in the living room window to try and blow in the cool air earlier that afternoon.

And I'm sorry for hating you when you showed up unannounced at my door.

“It shuts the door to the outside world and takes care of internal business because the house is on fire,”  says biomedical scientist Charlotte Martial of the University of Liège, who studies near-death experiences.

He looks guilty sitting on the bed, watching me fiddle with the small container in front of me.

"You can't bring much," he tells me. There's sadness in his voice, honest and tired. His clothes smell like lavender.

"It's fine," I said.

He simply stares at me, bags heavy under his eyes. He had this spark of life before he returned to me that evening. I'm so glad he's home. Things weren't the same.

"Your hair looks so pretty like that," I said, stepping closer to cup his face in my hands. The contents of my nightstand drawer stabbing the bare skin of my feet as I walk to him. He blushes, looking away in shame.

"You can't ever come back if you leave with me," he says softly.

"I have nothing to return to. Everything is gone," I insisted. But I can see he's having second thoughts, glancing down the hallway. "You can't leave me again."

"What the fuck is that?" I screamed into the phone.

"Baby, I don't know-"

"There is a manhunt for my fucking fiánce who can hardly kill a fucking spider and all you want to say is you don't fucking know?!"

There's an article staring at me. Sent by my mother just a few minutes prior. Billy had been gone for a couple hours after leaving me with a small little keychain on the kitchen table and a soft kiss on my forehead, saying he had some plans for that evening. But he'll be back soon. He wasn't lying.

"I want you to come. But you have to be sure."

His eyes are desperate, staring up at me as I stoke his hair away from his face. His clothes smell like lavender.

They finally sent him home today. Took nine months. First they had to confirm it was his remains. Then I had to decide where I wanted him to go. It's such a hard process trying to get your loved ones back, especially when you were running out of the pills that kept you sane. Kept you wrapped in the thick fog of memories left behind to damn the living in a house that has turned more into a tomb. No sunlight, no visitors. My mother came over to see us once, but the smell was so bad she left soon after. I got a new bottle today. Might as well, after all.

He looks so tired on my bed. Curled in on himself. You could fit him in a box. So small. So tired.

It's so cold.

                  "You know, today would've been our anniversary?"

Zemmar says, because “death is sort of a mystery—we don’t really know what it is.”

I wonder who found me alone in the closet of our room.

                    We were too busy dancing to notice.

▪︎》◇《▪︎

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

Masterlist • Article

#Spotify #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson fluff #josh hutcherson imagine #josh hutcherson x you #jhutch #billy burn 2019 #billy josh hutcherson #billy burn imagine #billy x reader #billy burn #burn movie 2019 #burn 2019 #josh hutcherson burn #hurt/no comfort

[g0ry0re0]

I'm trying to listen to my Billy playlist, but every time I hear Ain't No Rest For The Wicked all I can think about is this stupid fucking video and I lose my mind everytime

#billy burn #billy burn 2019 #billy burn imagine #billy burn 2019 x reader #katykat235 #g0ry0re0 #josh hutcherson #random thoughts

[soupsbowl]

come and get your love || steve harrington x reader || pt. 1

part 1/? 

word count: 3.5k

tw: mentions of blood/death, swearing, drinking, smoking

---

The rhythm of your pulse beat in time with the sound of your footsteps on the wet pavement. Quick and hammering. You breathed in deeply, hoping to provide your lungs with some much needed oxygen. 

Calm down Y/N...think about five things you can see. 

You glance around you, trying to take in your surroundings as you ran. 

Flecks of gray, swirling in formation around you. Dark looming trees, entwined with inky black vines. Your once white sneakers, now flecked with blood. Your fingernails, adorned with your favorite sparkly polish, chipped away with wear. Puddles on the ground, and your frightened expression flashing in the reflection. 

Okay, good. Now, four things you can touch. 

You reached for the gun on your hip, knowing it was out of ammo, but needing the comfort of its presence more so than its intended purpose at the moment. The silver ring that encircled your right middle finger. You touched it briefly with the index on your left. The bruise on your cheek, tender as you tapped it gently. Your hair, singed and frizzy, flung over your shoulder. You pulled on it. 

Next, three things you can hear. 

Your footsteps pounding the ground and your heartbeat, matching in time. The sound of bats screaming overhead. 

Almost done...two things you can smell. 

Smoke, as if there were a fire lit just beneath your nose but there were no flames in sight. The putrid stench of rotting death somewhere in the distance. 

The screaming of the bats got closer and closer until you were struck square on the back, knocking the breath of your lungs and causing you to fall forward onto your hands.

You rolled over just in time and were finally given one thing you could taste. 

Blood. 

---

TWO YEARS AGO 

“There’s absolutely nothing you can say that’ll convince me to go Chrissy.” 

“Oh, come on Y/N! You promised me you’d go this time! We never seem to hang out anymore and I think this party could be really good for you!” 

You stopped at your locker, unshouldering your backpack to fill it with your textbooks. Chrissy stared at you, her bright green eyes wide and awaiting your answer. 

You and Chrissy Cunningham had known each other since elementary school. You grew up across the street from one another and had been close for years. You had spent every waking moment together as kids, building pillow forts in her basement and making fairy houses in your backyard. In middle school you traded secrets on the bus on the way home from school, who had a crush on who and which teachers were rumored to drink during class. This lasted until freshman year of high school, when Chrissy made the cheerleading team and got a whole new group of friends, and you spent most of your time in the library or scouring the record store for things you had never heard of before. 

It wasn’t like you and Chrissy were no longer friends. She was still nice to you, - always waving and saying hello in the hallway, a gesture you always returned - but it was different. You rarely hung out aside from the occasional blockwide barbeque that one of your families would throw, where you would catch up and make some s’mores and reminisce over childhood antics, then pretend it never happened at school the next day. Since your parents’ passing, these barbeques became an even rarer occurrence, and so was seeing Chrissy. 

It was now your junior year of high school, and Chrissy was suddenly trying harder than ever to reignite your friendship. Trying harder than ever meaning she would pester you about a party every other week or so. 

This time, it was a Halloween party at Tina Ingraham’s house. Tina had been handing out orange flyers that morning that read: “Tina’s Halloween Bash: Come and Get Sheet Faced!”

You had grabbed a flyer absentmindedly when Tina handed it to you. After reading it, you snorted and stuffed it into your back pocket. But, not before Chrissy caught sight of you and took it as an opening to start begging you to go. 

And thus, here you were, with a backpack full of homework and Chrissy Cunningham ready to offer her first born child to you in exchange for you to blow it off and go to this party with her. 

You sighed, closing your locker and fishing the crumpled flyer out of your pocket and looking at it before glancing up at Chrissy again. She smiled and clasped her hands together in a begging fashion. 

“I’ll stick with you the whole time! Please?” 

You rolled your eyes but smiled back at her. “I guess it’s been awhile since I’ve gotten sheet faced.” 

“Yay!” Chrissy clapped her hands and hugged you quickly. “Jason and I can give you a ride! We’ll pick you up at 8:00 and don’t forget a costume!” She pranced off towards her boyfriend Jason, her ponytail bouncing as she went. 

---

Your hair was in curlers as you swiped red stain on your lips and cheeks, dabbing gently with your pinky finger, one of the few makeup tricks your mother taught you. 

A quiet knock sounded on your bedroom door and your grandmother entered. 

“Hi sweetie,” she said. “What are you up to tonight?” 

You capped the lipstick and placed it on your vanity and turned towards her. “I’m going to a Halloween party tonight, Grandma. Chrissy invited me. It’s at Tina Ingraham’s house over on Mulberry. I won’t be home late.” You smiled at your grandmother as she came over and began to help you remove the curlers from your hair. 

“I remember Chrissy. She’s the blond one who lives next door right? I haven’t seen her in ages! How is she?” 

“She’s good,” you said. “We haven’t hung out in a while but she really wanted me at this Halloween party tonight. I told her I’d go.” 

“Do you have a costume?” 

You gestured to the outfit you had hanging from the hook on your closet door. It consisted of a dark brown leather jacket that had been your father’s and a silky button up top with a prominent collar that had been your mothers. You were already wearing straight cut khaki trousers that your grandmother had bought for you thinking you needed more “practical” clothing, and calf high leather boots. 

“Are you going as someone with an odd sense of fashion?”

You laughed, removing the final curler and placing your father’s old cowboy hat atop your head. “No, Grandma! I’m Indiana Jones!” 

You heard a honk outside, causing you to turn your head towards the window. “Shit, they’re already here!” 

You scrambled out of your seat and quickly put on the rest of your costume, grabbing your makeshift whip as you headed out the door. 

“I love you, Grandma! See you later!”

---

It smells like vomit. 

It only took you about 20 minutes of being at Tina’s Halloween Bash before realizing you’d rather be just about anywhere else on the planet. 

You were never a huge fan of parties. You would go to some on occasion, but those typically consisted of smaller gatherings with the few people you knew and liked at school, and would only take part if you didn’t have to work or study, which wasn’t very often. 

This was way out of your comfort zone and seemed more like a warzone than a party. 

As soon as you walked in you were struck with a nauseating mix of smells - weed, alcohol, vomit, and candy corn to name a few - and the sound of “You Shook Me All Night Long” by AC/DC blasting throughout the house. 

Chrissy nudged your side. “It’ll be fun! Just dance a bit and have a drink! Jason and I are going to go play beer pong.” She then disappeared into the crowd. 

So much for sticking with me. 

Despite not really knowing anyone at the party, you spotted a few familiar faces and made casual conversation while swaying to the music and sipping on a cup of punch. 

You were listening to one of your classmates tell an obviously fabricated story about how he once made out with Molly Ringwald when you heard cheering coming from outside. 

You refilled your cup of punch before making your way through the crowd and out the sliding door to witness a guy doing a keg stand. He had wavy blond hair that reached his shoulders and was wearing an unzipped leather jacket, revealing shiny abs underneath. You didn’t really recognize him and quickly assumed he must’ve been the new student you heard people gossiping about earlier that week. 

The crowd around him roared as finished the keg stand, lasting an impressive forty-two seconds. You leaned against the side of the house, fiddling with the thin leather strip you had fashioned into a makeshift whip that hung from your belt. 

“Hey, Indy.” 

You glanced up meeting the eyes of King Keg Stand, who’s name you still didn’t know. 

“Hey.” 

His eyes roamed over your body before meeting yours again, which you rolled at him. 

“You can’t be serious.” 

He looked taken aback, before his eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

You took a step closer to him and crossed your arms. “Do you honestly think I didn’t just see you give me a full body scan?” 

He smirked, licking his lips and placing an already lit cigarette between them. “Sorry, sweetheart. You can return the favor if you’d like.” 

He opened the front of his leather jacket, further revealing his chest and abs. 

“Oh, please!” You kept eye contact. “In your dreams, Fabio.” You chugged back what was left in your punch cup before handing it to him, and heading inside before giving him the chance to respond. 

On your way back in, you ran into someone. 

“I’m so sorry!” You hurriedly adjusted your hair which had been mussed by your hat falling of from the the collision. 

“It’s okay.” Johnathan Byers gave you a tight-lipped smile.

You’d known Johnathan for a while. His mother, Joyce, and your mother had been coworkers at Melvald’s General Store before your mother passed away. You dog sat for the Byers a few times and you had English with Johnathan, but you weren’t super close with him. Joyce had brought over a lasagna for you and your grandmother after your parent’s died, and you had helped Johnathan put up posters for Will when he went missing, but you hadn’t spoken in a while. 

Feeling slightly fuzzy from the party punch and your heart beating quickly after the encounter with Keg Stand Fabio, you flung your arms around him in a tight hug. 

You felt him stiffen slightly before he relaxed into your embrace and patted you on the back gently. “Are you okay, Y/N?” 

You pulled away, blinking quickly. “Yeah, I’m...I’m sorry I don’t really know why I did that. I just...well, I know you’ve been through a lot this past year. With what happened with Will and everything,” you were rambling. “And we haven’t talked in awhile and I just felt like maybe you needed a hug? I’m very glad Will’s okay, by the way.”

Johnathan looked at the floor, nodding. “Yeah, yeah he’s okay. Thanks, Y/N I appreciate that. And the hug.” 

You felt your neck heat up, suddenly very embarrassed at your tipsy behavior. “Oh god, no that was so stupid, I’m sorry. I think the punch is getting to me. Indiana Jones would never act like this.”

Johnathan laughed. “I’m sure he does, it’s just not included in the movie.” 

“What’s your costume supposed to be by the way?” you asked. 

“I’m dressed as a guy who hates parties.”

You snorted. “Johnathan, that’s not a costume that’s just a personality trait.” You rolled your eyes at a guy throwing up in the sink next to you. “One that I happen to share with you now that I think about it.” 

Before Johnathan could respond, you heard a group of people exclaim at something. 

Nancy Wheeler was by the punch bowl, a cup full of the stuff poured down the front of her white shirt. You grimaced as she stormed off towards the bathroom, her boyfriend, Steve Harrington, in tow. 

Nancy was nice. She was a junior, like you, and you guys did a history project on the Ottoman Empire last year. You recalled seeing her and Johnathan together a lot last year and thought that she and Steve had called it quits. You were definitely incorrect in that assumption, but by the way Johnathan was looking at Nancy right now made you think it wasn’t a totally bullshit idea. 

“You like her?”

Johnathan snapped back towards you. “I like...I-I what?” 

You nodded towards the bathroom. “Nancy. You like her?” 

Johnathan turned a vibrant shade of red. “She’s with Steve.” 

“That doesn’t answer my question, Johnathan.”

He sighed, averting your eyes but nodding slowly. “We spent a lot of time together last year and got pretty close. She really helped me with looking for Will and everything. I almost thought she felt the same but-” 

Johnathan was cut off by Steve Harrington, who slammed open the bathroom door and left the house in a blazing fury. 

Your eyes widened. You could see through the crack in the bathroom door that Nancy was leaning forward on the bathroom sink, visibly drunk. You turned back to Johnathan. “You should help her.”

“What?” 

“You have a car don’t you? I would drive her home but I came here with Chrissy and Jason and they’re probably off sucking face somewhere.” 

Johnathan nodded. “Yeah, I can drive. Are you coming?” 

Keg Stand Fabio was approaching you out of the corner of your eye. “I could probably use a getaway car right about now. Lead the way, Byers.” 

--

You and Johnathan had managed to get Nancy home safe and sound. She was very drunk and was obviously upset about something, but you felt it best not to pry. 

You waited in the car as Johnathan helped Nancy inside, and he came back a few moments later. Talking Heads was playing quietly on the radio as Johnathan started driving back in the direction of your house. You were nearly ready to drift off to sleep and went to put your hat over your eyes when you realized. 

“Shit!” 

Johnathan slammed on the brakes. “What? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“My hat! I left my hat at the party! I have to go back!” You were frantic. 

“Oh, Y/N, I’m sure it’s okay. You could just stop by tomorrow and grab it.”

You shook your head and felt tears forming in your eyes but forced them away. “No, no, no, I can’t. It was my dad’s. I really can’t leave it there.” 

Johnathan nodded understandingly before turning the car around. “Okay.” 

--

Back at Tina’s house, there were still a few straggling party goers, but it had mostly emptied out. The front yard was littered with cups, cigarette butts, and a few people having drunken naps while still holding beer bottles. You got out of the car and slammed the door quickly. 

“Do you want me to wait for you?” Johnathan asked from the rolled down window.

You shook your head. “No, it’s okay. Thank you for the ride. My house isn’t far from here I can probably just walk.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” you patted the fake whip on your side. “No one’s gonna mess with Indy.” 

Johnathan smiled at you. “Alright. Well, I guess I’ll see you at school Monday. Bye, Y/N.”

“Bye, Johnathan. Thanks for the ride.”

He drove off and you hopped up the steps into the house. You found your father’s hat on the floor where you had bumped into Johnathan. You picked it up and inspected it to make sure it was okay before placing it back on your head. 

You went back outside and started heading home. The night sky was bright and decorated with stars. You loved stars. Many of your favorite memories with your parents included gazing up at the night sky and trying to identify constellations. You wondered if you would be able to walk all the way home while looking up at the night sky the entire time and were about to attempt it when you heard quiet sobs up ahead.

A figure was sitting on the sidewalk, head in his hands, and shoulders shaking as he cried. As you got closer, you realized it was Steve Harrington. 

Steve was a year older than you and your interactions were few and far between. He was easily the most popular guy at school, adored by many and the object of jealousy for all. You had one class with him, gym, in which you spent most of your time running laps while he would play basketball or soccer or some other team sport that you were atrocious at. He was undeniably cute, but that was like saying the sun was bright or the sky was blue - it was just a fact that everyone agreed on. You definitely weren’t the only one to think that, but probably the last person on earth that anyone would expect to have an interest in him. 

You looked around to see if there was anyone else with him, but he seemed to be alone. You approached him carefully. 

“Steve?”

“Jesus!” He starts, clearly not expecting anyone to be around. 

You stopped in your tracks. “No uh, Indiana Jones, actually. I thought the costume was pretty good but maybe my hair kind of ruined it?” 

Steve stared at you. “What?” 

You shook your head. “Nothing. Sorry.” You took a seat next to him on the curb. “Are you okay?” 

He averted your eyes and wiped his not-so-discreetly on his sleeve. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” He then met your gaze. “Who are you anyway? And don’t say Indiana Jones because I know that’s not true, but I’m still a little bit drunk and you might end up convincing me.” 

You smile a little bit. “I’m Y/N L/N. We have gym class together. I’m the girl who usually opts to run laps rather than embarrassing herself at basketball.” 

Steve nods. “Yeah, okay I remember. You work at the pizza place down by the fire station right?” 

“Yep. That’s me.” 

“Good pizza.” 

“Thank you.” 

You sit in silence for a moment before Steve sighs and turns to face you full on. “I know we don’t really know each other, but can I ask you for some advice?”

You blink at him. “I mean...I can’t promise I’ll be much help but, yeah, sure.”

“Okay well,” Steve inhales, like he’s about to start a long speech and you begin to think you’re going to be home a lot later than your grandmother expected you to be. “Let’s say that, hypothetically, you’re a girl.”

You laugh. “Not a hypothetical, Harrington. I’m very much a girl. Perhaps the costume is even better than I thought.” 

“No, God!” he laughed a little bit, but shook his head. “I’m sorry, that’s not really what I meant. Okay, starting over. Let’s say that, hypothetically, you have a girlfriend, and you invite this girlfriend to a party because you thought it would be good for the both of you to just kind of relax and cut loose for a little bit. Then, at this hypothetical party, you spill punch on your hypothetical girlfriend because she was already really drunk and you didn’t want her to get sick. Then you get into a hypothetical fight and she tells you that your relationship is bullshit and she doesn’t love you and-” he was talking quickly and you could see the tears starting to form in his eyes again.

“Steve,” you interrupt quietly. 

He looks at you, eyes glassy, before speaking again. “What would you do? Hypothetically?” 

You sigh and notice Steve’s hand resting on the edge of the curb. You have the sudden urge to grab it, but think better of it. “Well, hypothetically, I don’t know if there’s much I can do. It seems like my hypothetical girlfriend might be going through a lot and she might just need some time to cool down. I’d just...try and be there for her when she does I guess?” 

Steve nods, but doesn’t say anything.

You resist the continued urge to hold his hand, and pat his shoulder instead. “I don’t really know what happened between you and Nancy, but if it’s similar to the hypothetical situation you just told me, then I don’t think you did anything wrong, Steve. You’re a good guy.” 

Steve smiled a little bit and looked at you. 

Pretty eyes. 

“Thanks. I hope you’re right.” He stood up, offering his hand to you. 

You hesitated before taking it. He pulls you up, and you realize you’re nearly chest to chest with him. You can smell his cologne. 

“In exchange for your sage wisdom, L/N, I offer you my protection on the rest of your walk home.” 

You nod, hoping that it’s dark enough outside that your blush is hidden. 

“I’m the one armed, Harrington.” you gesture to the makeshift whip on your side. “I’m protecting you, if anything.” 

---

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #steve harrington imagine #slow burn #billy hargrove x reader

[twpsyn-who]

You guys know my deeply rotted hate for Harringroveson, BUT this won't leave my mind and I need to share before I. Lose. It.

Soulmates AU where you feel each other's pain/share the same wounds (the idea is "you get hurt and your soulmate takes care of your wounds, then they heal on your body too" or something along the lines). Steve got used to the pain coming from his soulmate, burning under his skin. It was daily, but got better when he got into middle school. Billy got comfort in knowing that his soulmate was going through the same pain as him, twisted as it was (but it stooped when he got in middle school, instead his soulmate trying to heal Billy's own pain and he didn't knew what to do with that besides hurting more and more and more). And Eddie has been suffering for most of his childhood, until he moved with his uncle and swore to himself to help his soulmate heal and never get hurt again/add more to the pain that was already there.

Now imagine the fighting scene between Steve and Billy only... Billy feels pain in the same place he punched Steve. With every punch and kick he feels the same pain as Steve must feel at the moment.

Is not that what stops him from hitting Steve, though. Is the fact that someone was taking care of their wounds while they were fighting.

#what's better than finding your soulmate while he kicks the shit out of you? finding you have TWO soulmates in the same moment #eddie has always healed their wounds (billy's from abuse and fights ; steve's from his fights) and took care of them unknowingly he felt #the pain of TWO people #poor guy loosing his shit cuz he couldn't feel his face during that fist fight between steve and billy #billy doesn't get flayed. he instead feels the pain from the russians hitting steve and gets to the mall ASAP and finds Dustin and Erica #and helps them free Robin and Steve. Meanwhile Eddie is not ok and does his best to heal the wounds. At this point this guy could easily #become a nurse. He knows his way around med kits #Steve and Billy finding something is wrong with their soulmate when one of them cuts themselves and there's no healing from them #next day Chrissy is announced dead and they. are. not. ok. #bi. both of them. Billy and Steve are bi btw. Eddie is gay cuz that's how I headcanon him #the theory sinks when Steve gets hurt in the Upside Down and there's no healing from their soulmate. #OK BUT IMAGINE BILLY IS WITH THEM WHEN THEY FIGHT VECNA AND SUDDENLY HE STARTS FEELING PAIN AROUND HIS NECK #AND LOOKS AT STEVE BUT HE'S FINE. THEN THE PAIN GETS WORSE AND STEVE LOOKS AT HIM BUT THEY ARE OK #And the pain starts to be all over the place and it doesn't click. They are happy their soulmate is ok and they help the girls kill Vecna #and once they do... the pain gets even worse. Only then they start to get worried because is not normal pain- is the same burning pain #that Steve felt from the bats #I love myself. So much angst. You could do so so much more angst with it #harringroveson #stranger things #stranger things eddie #eddie munson #stranger things steve #steve harrington #stranger things billy #billy hargrove #the fact that my other post in my drafts is me explicitly stating that I hate this OT3 with a passion is so fucking funny to me rn

[joshfutturman]

interested in joining an 18+ jhutch discord server?

ੈ♡˳includes spaces to: ☆ share previews of fics/artwork ☆ hang out ☆ organised movie nights ☆ game nights ☆ & more!

finally i made it (> u <) and i'm so excited to share it with you guys! posting this out here today but probably won't get around to sharing invites until saturday!

reblog to get the word out and send your 18+ friends the google doc for an invite! (≧◡≦) ♡

#josh hutcherson #mike schmidt #josh futturman #jhutch #peeta mellark #future man #clapton davis #fnaf #the hunger games #derek danforth #five nights at freddys movie #my ramblings #the beekeeper #jhutch1992 #billy burn #josh hutcherson imagine #mike schmidt fnaf #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #fnaf movie #fnaf mike #beekeeper #josh futturman fanfiction #josh futturman x reader smut #josh futturman x reader

[this-aint-massachusetts]

Billy Burn x pyromaniac!reader would be a nuclear bomb of a pairing yet I love it

#I could imagine Billy freaking the fuck out and having to hide all his lighters and matches because he’s not giving up smoking #but he also likes shit to not be on fire #be kinda cool for an angsty thing #josh hutcherson #billy burn 2019

[scienceoftheidiot]

@rancid-butter I'm rediscovering this song and realising I love it and wondering how I didn't become obsessed with it during my PhD lol

#probably because i wanted to set fire to the hives and watch them burn and die slowly and maybe throw a people or two into it too #tout cramer et partir élever des chèvres #in fact some of the lyrics actually fit for real? bees are awful to each other hives #they kill and steal and if you've never seen a bee colony raid another you can't really imagine #worse is when you're in the middle of it #that's when they are more likely to kill you btw 👍 not a fun moment #well even if it'd not the point the lyrics are perfect either way you take them thanks #music #billy talent #Spotify