#i could definitely make this a whole ass series if people wanna submit ideas | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alagalaska · 4 years

Text

‘It’s On!’ Chapter Three

Summary: Mini-series. Y/N is the captain of the female basketball team at Hawkins High. She clashes with the new captain of the male team when he keeps booking out the gym, leaving the girls with nowhere to practice

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Fem! Reader

Masterlist // Series Masterlist // Chapter Two

A/N: This was submitted as part of the wonderful @lets-hargroove’s Valentine’s Writing Challenge. It’s here, finally! Chapter 3! Sorry it’s taken so long. It was my husband’s birthday yesterday, which I have been preparing for for weeks (if you wanna see what I made him just head on over to my other blog @alagalaska-makes, especially if you’re a Harry Potter fan). I hope you enjoy this chapter! Please like, comment or reblog to let me know what you think. If anyone would like to discuss this story with me or has any questions about the plot or the characters, please feel free to send me an ask or a message, I love hearing from you guys!

Prompt: Enemies to Lovers trope

Please do not steal/ copy my work, in part or in whole. Plagiarism is a crime!

Chapter warnings: swearing, talk of underage drinking, slut shaming, sexist comments, Billy being an ass.

Word count: 6,900

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

The next morning, you wake up feeling horrible, in more ways than one.

You open your eyes and promptly squeeze them shut again.

“Ugh,” you groan. Why is it so bright in here?

There’s a dull throbbing inside your skull and your entire body aches. If you didn’t know any better, you’d guess you were coming down with an illness. However, you know this is purely self-inflicted; which means you don’t deserve to feel as sorry for yourself as you do, or at all in fact.

You peel your eyes open again, squinting against the light, and make a clumsy attempt at sitting up in the bed.

“Mornin’ Sleeping Beauty,” Heather says cheerily from beside you. You flinch at the sound, too loud for you having only just woken up. “How you feeling?”

You bring a hand up to massage your temple.

“Like death.” The words scratch against the inside of your throat.

Heather chuckles from beside you on the bed. The mattress trembles slightly beneath her.

“Look like it too,” She says jokingly. She’s lying on her stomach on top of the covers, flipping through a magazine, still wearing her pyjamas.

You see that someone, probably Heather, has placed a glass of water on the bedside table next to you and you reach for it, suddenly aware of how dry the inside of your mouth is. You take a few grateful gulps then place it back down, feeling slightly nauseous.

You move the covers off you and notice that you’re wearing your pyjamas. You don’t remember putting them on last night; in fact, everything after the party is a bit of a blur.

“How did we get home?” you ask Heather, unsettled by the blank space in your memory.

“Steve drove us. When he came to find me, you passed out on a bench; that’s probably why you don’t remember. He carried you in too.” She laughs at the memory of it, but you feel the shame starting to creep in.

“I’m so sorry I pulled you away from the party early,” you say. “And I’m sorry I got so drunk.”

“Don’t be,” she smiles and shrugs, “It’s fine, we’ve all done it before.”

You’re happy Heather’s not mad at you, but you still feel bad. And it wasn’t just her night you cut short either; you should thank Steve at school on Monday for helping you.

Heather scoots slightly closer to you on the bed.

“And I’m sorry that I left you,” she says.

“Heather, don’t be silly. Even if you had been with me, it probably would have still ended the same way.”

She gives you another small smile then looks down at the magazine. She closes it, smoothing the cover of it out with her hand. You can tell she’s thinking about something.

“Steve said you were upset about Billy?” she asks, glancing up at you.

Ah yes, now that part you do remember.

You sigh.

“Yeah, I think I fucked up,” you say, scrubbing your hand down your face.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” you say, but you continue anyway. “Turns out Billy is the new captain of the boys’ basketball team.”

“Oh,” she breathes.

“Yeah, exactly. I found out and sorta flipped out about it. It was baaad.” You want to bury yourself back under the covers at the memory of it, but you just about manage to refrain.

“What did you say to him?”

“I can’t remember exactly,” you say, rubbing at your temples again to try and ease the throbbing. “I just remember shouting at him and then storming off.” You groan, recalling his face as he’d asked you where you were going. “I mean, sure, I’m still annoyed about him stealing my gym time, but if I’d just taken a second to think about it, instead of biting his head off…” you sigh in frustration at yourself. “There’s no way he’s ever gonna agree to let me have my days back now.”

She considers your words silently for a moment.

“Well, maybe it wasn’t that bad. I’m sure he’ll forgive you.”

You look at her skeptically.

“He clearly likes you,” she continues. “Enough to kiss you, anyway.”

I suppose she has a point. But wait-

“How do you know about that?” you ask, eyeing her suspiciously.

“I just assumed,” she says, smirking. “And also, you have a hickey on your neck.” She points to it.

“What?!”

You leap off the bed and check yourself in her mirror, moving the collar of your pyjama top out of the way to better see the red mark on your neck, not yet a bruise, from where Billy had been kissing you last night.

Oh fuck. I can’t let my mum see this!!

You turn to look at her in distress.

“Heather!” you scold as she laughs at you from the bed.

“Oh calm down, it’ll cover up easy enough,” she says, shuffling to the end of the mattress and sitting cross-legged. “So, was it good?” She asks you eagerly.

“Was what good?”

“The kiss, stupid.”

You stare at her in disbelief for a moment. That’s what she’s choosing to focus on?

“Yeah, it was great,” you say dismissively, sitting down on the end of the bed next to her, “but that doesn’t really matter, does it, because he probably thinks I’m a psycho after the way I acted.” You groan and flump down onto the mattress so that you’re lying on your back.

Heather gives an exasperated sigh from beside your legs and you sit up halfway to look at her, propped up on your elbows.

“So then apologise,” she says, as if it’s the obvious solution. Like it’s that easy.

You scoff a laugh.

“Oh yeah,” you say skeptically.

“Look, just say you were really drunk. That’s the great thing about parties; if you do something stupid, you can just blame it on the alcohol.”

You frown at her words. Your head hurts and all you want to do is lay here for the rest of your life, hiding from the world.

“Can’t I just avoid him forever?” you say pathetically. You flop down onto your back again and groan, turning your face into the covers.

She laughs at you.

“Not if you want this whole thing with basketball practice sorted you can’t.” Ugh. Why does she always have to be right?!

“Trust me, I really don’t think this is as big a deal as you’re making it out to be,” she says, amusement in her voice. “It’s like I said, he obviously likes you; you can totally use that to your advantage.”

You uncover your face and peek at her.

“And you never know, if it goes well, you might even get another kiss!” she says excitedly, jostling you on the mattress. You smile into the covers, trying to hide your face from her.

You’re not so sure about that; but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the idea of kissing Billy again. You bite your lip, thinking about the kiss you had shared last night.

“Ok, fine!” you say finally, glaring at her playfully as you sit up. “I’ll go talk to him tomorrow. Now fix my neck!” you gesture at Billy’s mark on your skin and Heather grabs her makeup bag off the dresser, still laughing at you. At least one of us is enjoying this situation!

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

Realising that there’s still a good chance that Billy will try to book out the gym for your slot on Tuesday, you make the effort to arrive at school slightly earlier than usual on Monday morning.

You do still plan to find him and apologise for your behaviour on Saturday, but you also want to try and avoid any more tension with your own team, and beating him to the booking schedule would definitely help with that.

Your chances are looking pretty good too; as you pull into the parking lot there’s a good selection of available parking spaces and, much to your delight, the car that had taken to blocking your spot last week, is nowhere to be seen.

It even feels like it might be warmer today; the sun shining down on you as you back into your space. And (dare you say it?) it feels like this might be a sign from the Universe that things could be looking up this week.

When you enter the office you find Amber sitting at her desk as per usual, filing her pristine nails and chanking on gum. Her eyeshadow is bright pink today.

She glances up at you as you enter.

“Hi Amber,” you begin.

She sighs heavily.

“I’ll spare you the breath,” she says, in her familiar nasally voice. “You’re already too late.”

You freeze, mid-step, in the doorway.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, really?” you say in disbelief.

“Will you keep your voice down?” she hisses at you. “The Principal is in a meeting.” She points with her nail file at the dark brown door that leads off from the main office area, with a small golden plaque that reads ‘Principal Davies.’

She sighs again. Puts her nail file down on the desk. She’s reaching for the booking schedule, but you don’t need to look at it to know whose initials will be on it.

You walk forward and take it from her anyway.

B.H glares up at you from the paper in neat cursive and your stomach sinks.

How is it that someone who barely even shows up to lessons has managed to beat you to booking out the gym three times in a row?!

You consider arguing your case, but you know it’ll do no good. Amber may be bad at her job, but she’s a stickler for the rules. Or maybe it’s just that she likes telling people ‘no.’ Yeah, that sounds more likely. Either way, it’s a fight you know you won’t win.

You hand the clipboard back to Amber and leave the office, defeated; all hopes of this day being a good one, well and truly dashed.

What am I gonna do now?

You already know the answer. You need Billy to switch days with you, or at the very least agree to stop stealing your days. Which means you need to find him and apologise before lunch break; there’s no way you can face your team in the cafeteria without this being sorted. Your stomach knots up at the very thought.

You head for your locker like always but as you’re early, Nancy won’t be there yet. You could really use her advice right now about how to approach things with the team. She has always been much better at the politics of it all than you.

You hear quiet muttering and look up to see a guy and a girl standing at the left hand side of the corridor, talking amongst themselves as they get their books from their lockers. You notice that they keep glancing at you as you pass. You continue on your way, but as you turn the corner you peer over your shoulder and see that they’re still looking at you. The boy says something and the girl nods and laughs. Don’t be paranoid, you tell yourself. They could be talking about anything.

When you get to your locker however, a girl who’s in the same Math class as you and Heather watches you from the end of the hall. You shoot her a friendly smile as you open up your locker but she just frowns at you and looks away. That’s strange.

Maybe you have something on your face? Or maybe people are just shocked to see you at school early for once. Or maybe news of your drunken antics on Saturday has already spread throughout the school. Knowing your luck at the moment, it’s probably the latter.

You adjust the neck of your jumper, pulling it higher just in case, making sure the mark on your neck is covered.

As you turn back to grab your books from your locker, you spot Nancy and Steve heading up the corridor towards you.

Nancy is slightly ahead, walking quickly, with her head down and Steve is hurrying along behind her, trying to keep pace. He says something to her but she doesn’t acknowledge him. You guess they might be having an argument.

When they reach you, you say hi but neither of them returns it. Nancy goes straight to her locker, with only a brief glance to you. Wow, he must have really pissed her off.

Steve leans against the front of the locker on the other side of Nancy’s and briefly meets your eyes, giving you a very quick, very strained smile. He runs his hand through the front of his hair, and from the way it doesn’t flop back into its regular shape like it usually would, you guess that he’s been running his hand through it a lot this morning.

You really want to get straight into telling Nancy all about Billy being the new captain and how he’s booked out the gym again, but something’s telling you this might not be the best time. If they have indeed just had an argument it isn’t really fair of you to lay this on her as well. You should wait until later.

You clear your throat a little awkwardly.

“I owe you a ‘thank you’ for Saturday,” you say to Steve over Nancy’s head. He glances at you with slightly startled, hazel eyes.

You feel Nancy watching the pair of you, unsmiling.

“He was great, Nance,” you tell her, trying to make Steve look good so that maybe she will be slightly less mad with him. “Made sure I got home safe.”

Nancy continues to look unimpressed.

“That’s ok, Y/N, you don’t need to thank me,” Steve says quickly, then glances nervously at Nancy.

“Well, I at least owe you an apology then,” you huff a laugh and then add, to Nancy, who’s staring at you with one eyebrow partially raised, “I was wasted.” You give a nervous bubble of laughter.

“Yeah, Steve already told me all about it.” There’s an edge of resentment to her tone.

You feel like you should probably leave and let them continue their argument in peace. You’re about to make your excuses when you think of something.

“Hey, did either of you guys happen to see Billy when you were outside?”

You’re expecting some sort of cutting comment from at least one of them about Billy but, surprisingly, it doesn’t come. Nancy goes back to grabbing her books out of her locker.

“I don’t think so,” Steve shrugs, “I doubt he’s even here yet.”

“Oh,” is all you say, although you know he is here already, because he booked out the gym before you.

Nancy shuts her locker forcefully and with a certain finality.

“Right, well. I’ll, uh, see you at lunch Nance,” you say to her.

“Yeah.” She gathers her belongings and starts heading off towards her first lesson.

“Bye,” Steve says to you, looking slightly harassed, then rushes to catch up with Nancy again.

You watch them go, hoping whatever they were arguing about wasn’t anything too serious. They’ll probably be all loved up again by lunch time.

You stand next to your locker for a little while longer, trying to think of where the best place to start looking for Billy is. There’s not long left until first period is due to start. You figure he’s probably smoking.

You go outside, despite Steve saying he hadn’t seen him out there, and head over to the bike shed. You check the space behind it, where you met him last week.

No luck; it’s empty.

You head back up to the school just as the bell sounds and you hurry to your lesson.

------

In between each period, you go back outside and check behind the bike shed. Apart from just aimlessly walking around the corridors hoping to bump into him, it’s the only place you can think to look. After your third time of checking the little alleyway, it’s looking less and less likely that you’ll find him before you have to face your team. It’s time for a contingency plan, you think. You can’t turn up unprepared, or Ashley will chew you up and spit you out.

So during fourth period, you find yourself barely paying any attention to what’s going on, choosing to spend your time jotting down the points that you want to make to your team and a rough plan of action.

When lunch time rolls around, you still haven’t found Billy and you’re officially out of time.

You visit the bathroom on your way to the cafeteria and take a moment to stare at your reflection in the mirror above the sinks, giving yourself a pep-talk.

“Come on, Y/N, you got this,” you tell yourself. Just hold it together, your team needs you.

You sigh. You remember a time when being captain was straight forward.

You bet your sister never had to deal with any of this shit when she was captain. But even if she did, she’d know exactly how to handle it. You meet your eyes in the mirror. Push the thought down.

You huff a breath, deciding to stop procrastinating and just get this over with.

When you enter the cafeteria, you do a quick sweep of the room with your eyes, hoping Billy will be here. Unfortunately, there’s no sign of him, but you spot Carol sitting at a table near the door, talking with a small group of her friends. Maybe she’ll know where Billy is? It may be too late to fix things before you have to face your team, but if you knew where he was going to be later, you could still get this sorted today at least.

You go over to her.

“What, do I look like his keeper to you?” She sneers unpleasantly at you when you ask her. Takes a long slurp through her straw.

“Carol, look, I really need to talk to him,” you try to reason with her.

She scoffs.

“Oh yeah, I bet you do.” Her tone is mean, judging. A couple of her friends laugh. You assume that’s a dig at you for kissing Billy at the party on Saturday.

She’s probably just jealous because she’s stuck with Tommy, you tell yourself.

Before you can press her any further, she’s standing up and walking away from you, with a roll of her eyes. Her cronies follow her. One of them, a girl with ginger hair and a turned up nose, coughs exaggeratedly as she walks past you. You’re pretty sure you hear her utter the word ‘slut’ in between coughs and the others dissolve into laughter as they leave the cafeteria.

You scoff disbelievingly at their behaviour, but you refuse to let it bother you. You only kissed him. If they think that makes you a slut then they’re just prudes. Pretty sure most of them have done a whole lot worse anyway.

You’re distracted by Ashley, who’s standing up at your team’s table. Here we go.

As you head over to them, she stops talking and sits down.

You take a seat opposite Nancy. She looks up at you but doesn’t smile, just casts her eyes back down at her lunch, on the table in front of her. She must still be upset. You make a mental note to check if she’s ok when you’re alone.

You take out the notepad you’d written in earlier, turning to the page with your scribbled notes on. You don’t even bother taking out your lunch; you don’t think you can stomach eating anything until this is over with.

You glance up the table to check everyone’s here, to see Ashley eyeing you expectantly.

You take a preparatory breath.

“Ok, so guys, I’m just gonna get straight to it,” they all turn their attention to you. “We lost our gym slot for tomorrow to the boys again.”

Ashley barely reacts. If anything, her face grows slightly smugger, almost as if she had predicted this. Everyone else, on the other hand, had obviously thought this whole fiasco had already been dealt with. Or, that’s what you assume from their various reactions.

Molly pauses, her sandwich still held halfway to her mouth, and gapes at you.

“What?” She lowers her food. “Are you serious?”

Nancy is peering at you, a deep furrow in her brow. Her expression is hard to read. You’re not sure if she’s annoyed at you, like everyone else, or worried for you.

Rebecca and Jenny, your substitutes, are having a full blown rant at the other end of the table.

You can do this. Just follow your notes.

You glance down at your notebook and remind yourself of your plan of action.

“I know. I’m sorry, but as it’s first come, first serve, there isn’t much I can do about it. So, if we look at our op-”

“Wait, so you’re telling us that, after this happened last week, you didn’t think it was a good idea to get here earlier to try and beat him?” It’s Ashley who’s interrupted you.

Of course she can’t just make this easy for you.

You don’t even want to justify her comment with a response, but everyone at the table is looking to you for some sort of explanation.

“I tried,” you begin, “but he got here-” This time it’s Margo who cuts in.

“Wait a minute, I thought you said you were going to speak to their captain last week?”

“I did, or at least I attempted to, but I couldn’t find him,” you say.

“But weren’t you with him on Saturday?” Rebecca asks. She and Jenny share a look and the latter suppresses a laugh by turning her face into her shoulder, hiding behind a curtain of curly hair. Great, looks like the whole school knows…

You don’t even try to mask your frustrated sigh.

“Yes, but I didn’t know Billy was their captain at that point,” you say tersely, subconsciously adjusting the neck of your jumper.

You don’t even have to ask to guess how they knew that you were with Billy at the party on Saturday. Carol. She’s such a little…

Ashley scoffs a laugh.

“How did you not know?” she asks, sounding more than a little amused. Oh, I bet she’s just loving this.

“Can we please just get back on topic?” Nancy snaps, speaking for the first time since you’d sat down at the table.

Everyone looks at her in surprise; Margo even leans slightly away from her, as if she’s worried she’ll bite.

You could kiss Nancy right now. Thank you, you tell her with your eyes. She looks back down at her lunch again.

You clear your throat.

“Yes, as I was saying, our options are this: I can keep trying to book out the gym for our regular days, however as that is proving difficult, I suggest we try for another day as well. And as the boys are practicing on our days at the moment, we can assume that Wednesdays and Fridays will now be free.” You pause, giving everyone a chance to soak up the information.

“Well, Friday is when I look after my sister,” Margo says, popping a carrot stick into her mouth with a loud crunch.

That sparks a barrage of reasons why people ‘can’t do Fridays.’ You had expected that though.

“Then that leaves us with Wednesdays,” you say. “I appreciate it may be too short notice for some, but I think if most of us can make it, we should aim for Wednesday this week, plus one of our regular days; let’s say tomorrow. That way I can talk to Billy before practice to try and get this sorted sooner.” You look around the table and don’t see anyone objecting. Finally, now we’re getting somewhere.

“Right, so raise your hand if you can make Wednesday this week,” you say, raising your own. Most people do, with the exception of Jenny, but you’re not too fussed about missing one person; plus she’s a substitute so it should be fine. Ashley hesitates, glancing around at the rest of her teammates before reluctantly raising her own arm. She rolls her eyes for good measure as she does it, just to show you she isn’t happy.

“Ok, great,” you say. Everyone puts their hands down. You glance at your notes again, “I’ll try for Wednesday then; but, to be clear,” you look back up at your team, “we will just have to resign ourselves to training outside tomorrow. And possibly for the foreseeable future if Billy decides to make things difficult for us.”

Molly groans loudly in response.

“I know,” you say to her. “That is the worst case scenario; but at least the weather is starting to get warmer. Soon, it won’t be as unbearable anymore.”

“Yeah, but that’s just part of the problem,” Ashley pipes up. “How are we supposed to practice effectively, long term, without any basketball hoops?” she folds her arms over her chest, waiting for your answer. Jessica copies her, nodding. The whole team seems to be watching for your rebuttal.

“That’s a very good point, Ashley,” you say, begrudgingly. “I would suggest that as a team, we all try to come up with some solutions, just in case we do find ourselves having to train outside again in the future. But let’s just see how things go with Billy tomorrow; I’ll talk to him before practice, then we’ll take it from there. It might be that he just lets us have Tuesdays and Thursdays, you never know,” you say, shrugging. I really hope it’s that easy, you add to yourself.

Everyone, with the exception of Ashley, seems to be appeased by this solution and conversation eventually turns away from basketball, much to your relief.

Nancy stands, having finished her lunch, and gathers up her rubbish. You also stand, grabbing your notebook and say a hasty goodbye to your team; taking this as your chance to check if she’s ok.

She doesn’t wait for you, heading straight for the doors of the cafeteria. You hurry after her.

“Nance!” you shout when you make it into the corridor.

She slows her pace so you can catch up. She spares you a small glance as you reach her but doesn’t say anything.

“Thanks for helping me out back there,” you say, walking beside her now. You offer her a smile but she’s looking straight ahead of her, so she doesn’t see it.

“I know it’s not an ideal situation for us all to be in, but I appreciate the support,” you add.

She still doesn’t look at you.

You’re trying not to take her frosty demeanor towards you personally, because you figure it’s still to do with her argument with Steve from this morning.

“Hey, are you ok?” you ask her.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she says, curtly. Then she gives her head a small shake, as if she realises she’s being short with you and finally glances at you, her expression softening slightly. “Sorry, I’m ok. Thanks for asking.” She offers you a small smile then drops it quickly, looking ahead again.

You’re not sure whether to ask her about her argument with Steve or not. You figure if she wants you to know about it, she’ll tell you herself; so you decide against bringing it up.

You change the subject.

“Did you know Billy was the captain of the boys’ team?”

“No,” she says, then pauses for a second, “Actually, I think Steve did mention something about it, yeah.” She glances at you, an apology in her eyes.

How is it that everyone knew but no one thought to tell me?!

The bell rings to signal the end of lunch.

As students start filling the hall, Nancy turns to you.

“I better get to Biology. See you later,” she says, before heading in the direction of her classroom. You watch her go then make your way to your own lesson.

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

The next morning, you find yourself standing in the office, staring down at the booking sheet again, not quite believing your luck. So he’s taking all the days now?!

“He came in this morning and booked this?” you ask Amber.

She looks up from her magazine.

“Well, duh,” she says, looking at you like you’re stupid. “How else would his name be on there?”

You look down at the neat, curly letters in front of you, a deep crease in your brow.

“But I’m even earlier than yesterday,” you say. It’s not necessarily aimed at Amber. “I don’t get it.” You look up at her, putting the booking schedule back down on the desk.

“How long ago was he in here?” you ask her.

She pauses her reading again with a sigh. Looks at you over the top of her glasses in exasperation.

“What?”

“Billy. Did I literally just miss him? What time was it when he came in?”

She blinks at you.

“I don’t know,” she says, huffs like you’re asking too much of her. “Not long ago,” she shrugs.

“And you’re sure it’s definitely the same guy booking it as last week?”

She rolls her eyes at you.

“Er, yeah,” she says curtly. You realise it’s an odd question, but there’s just something that doesn’t quite feel right. You can’t put your finger on it though.

“Tanned, blonde mullet,” you check.

“Ridiculously good-looking; yeah, it’s the same guy alright,” she says. Shoots you a look as if to say ‘will that be all?’ She picks her magazine up again, makes a point of holding it in front of her to show she’s no longer paying attention to you.

Welp, that’s as much as I’m getting out of her. You glance back down at the booking schedule on her desk, frowning at his initials, then huff a sigh and leave.

You decide to try your luck at finding Billy again. He can’t be far. If he booked it not that long ago then maybe he’s still hanging around somewhere?

You doubt he’d be the sort to get to class early, seeing as he barely even shows up at all. I could check the library, I suppose.

You quickly check outside first, including behind the bike shed, but to no avail; then you do a sweep of the corridors and, finally, the library. The bell rings.

Nowhere. How is he nowhere?!

Frustrated, you make your way to class.

------

After school, you’re pacing back and forth in front of the large trophy cabinet just outside the doors to the gym. You’d kept an eye out all day for Billy, but hadn’t seen him. He didn’t show up for Chem 3rd period either. If you didn’t already know that he’d been in school to book the gym out in the morning, you would have guessed he wasn’t even in school at all.

But you knew he’d be here now, in the gym. He can’t avoid you any longer; not that you think that’s what he’s doing. But… maybe he is?

You’re wearing your basketball gear, which consists of your school sports hoodie and gym shorts, with a scarf carefully wrapped around your neck to hide the hickey. Luckily with the weather being so cold outside, no one on your team questioned why you were wearing it to practice.

You’d instructed the other girls to start warming up on the forecourt before making your way here. However, now you’re about to see him for the first time since the party, you’re not quite sure you’re ready for it.

Your bottom lip throbs a little from where you’ve been worrying it between your teeth all the way here.

You can hear the sound of sneakers squeaking against the polished floor of the gym on the other side of the door.

Just apologise for Saturday, you tell yourself. You were in the wrong, you know that. Billy’s cool, he’ll probably be fine about it.

You take a deep breath and push open the double doors.

Billy is in the middle of the court, practicing one on one with one of his teammates as the others stretch and jog laps at the edge of the room.

He’s shirtless; curls grazing his naked shoulders as he confidently blocks the other guy’s attempts to get past him with the ball.

Your eyes linger on him as you hover by the door, waiting for the right moment to catch his eye. You don’t want to interrupt him.

A few of the other team members have paused in their stretches and are watching you from across the gym. Tommy spots you and shouts to Billy to get his attention.

“Hey, Hargove.” Tommy points to you and Billy looks up at him, then over at you.

His jaw clenches when he sees you and your stomach drops slightly. Yep, he’s pissed at me.

Ok, that’s fine, you think, trying to calm your nerves. You knew he probably would be. No need to stress, you take a deep breath, just stick to the plan.

You wave him over.

He looks away and, for a second, you think he might be choosing to ignore you. Then he charges at the other boy, ramming him with his shoulder and knocking him to the ground. He easily gains possession of the ball and dribbles it over to the basket, laughing cockily. He passes it under his own leg and dunks it with minimal effort. As he looks over at you again, his eyes flash, the same way they had at the party when he’d seen you talking to Steve. He goes over to where the other guy is on the floor.

“You were moving your feet,” Billy says, pulling him up, “Next time, plant them.”

He slowly looks you over as he approaches, taking in your gym shorts and bare legs. Notices the scarf around your neck. Then he meets your eyes with a steely gaze.

“Come to see how the game is meant to be played?” He asks when he reaches you, earning a few snickers from his team mates, all of whom have abandoned their warm up to watch.

You blink a couple of times, caught off guard by his standoffish tone and his clearly sexist comment, which you choose to ignore.

“I er, actually wanted to talk to you about Saturday,” you say, trying to keep your voice down so the rest of the team can’t eavesdrop. “Could we maybe talk in the hall?” you ask, gesturing over your shoulder at the door.

He tells the others to keep warming up, without a word to you, and leads the way out of the gym. You hear Tommy’s voice call out after you, but you don’t hear his words, muffled by the door closing. It’s probably something obnoxious though, and no doubt a comment about you and kissing. Whatever it is, the other guys find it amusing. Their laughter reaches you in the corridor.

Billy turns to face you, licking his bottom lip. Your eyes go to it, just as they had on Saturday in Tammy’s garden. Suddenly you’re thinking about what had followed that; his mouth on yours, his hands on your body.

You fight to compose yourself, to get your mind back on the matter at hand. You clear your throat. This would be so much easier if he had more clothes on.

“So,” you start, nervously fidgeting with your hands, trying not to look at his bare chest. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for how I acted at the party. I was pretty drunk and I-” He cuts you off.

“Which part are you apologising for?” he asks you, licks his lips again.

You blanch at the question, thrown off. Before you can ask him what he means, he clarifies for you.

“Flipping out for no reason and leaving me standing there like a jackass or for kissing me and then going home with Pretty Boy?” His voice is irritated.

“What?” you ask, dumbfounded. You expected him to be annoyed at you for shouting at him but… Pretty Boy? Is he talking about Steve?

He scoffs a laugh, running his tongue along his top row of teeth.

“Carol said she saw you leave the party with Harrington.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

“Yeah,” you say quickly, trying to explain yourself, “But it wasn’t like that. I was wasted, he was just making sure I got home safe.”

It suddenly makes sense why everyone has been acting so weird around you since Monday. So Carol has been spreading rumours; only, it’s worse than you had thought.

The whole school must think I slept with Steve! Oh, that’s just great. And after your little ‘display’ with Billy in the garden, why wouldn’t they believe it? Kissing someone you barely know...

You think about how Nancy had given you the cold shoulder yesterday. Oh no, poor Nancy... You’d assumed she’d been upset with Steve and was just projecting, but she must have been upset with both of you.

You can’t believe how ridiculous this whole situation is.

“Sure,” Billy says disbelievingly.

It irritates you that he would think that little of you.

Even if something had happened with Steve- which it hadn’t and obviously never would- it’s not like it’s even his business.

Why does he even care? Jesus, a guy kisses you once and thinks he owns you. And it’s not like he can talk, anyway; according to both Nancy and Steve, Billy’s got a reputation of his own to worry about.

You have to remind yourself that there was another reason you came here to talk to him. You need him to forgive you, so keep it civil.

“Well, either way, I’m sorry.” You manage to keep your tone remorseful.

He stares at you for a long moment, arms folded over his chest and chin jutting out defiantly as he considers your words.

“Ok,” is all he says, shrugging once. He starts to walk away from you, back towards the doors of the gym.

“Wait, Billy,” you say, moving quickly to follow him.

“Please can you stop booking out the gym on my days?” Your tone borders on pleading.

He turns back to you, cocking his head to one side in mock confusion. Squints at you.

“I’m sorry, your days?”

“Yeah, Tuesdays and Thursdays,” you clarify for him, even though he knows full well what you meant. “I agreed it with Matt. My team gets those days; you get Wednesdays and Fridays.”

He licks his lips and leans in towards you.

“Well, Matt’s not the captain anymore; I am.” He’s watching your face closely as he speaks. You notice his eyes flick to your lips before they move back up to meet your gaze. “So that no longer stands.”

You exhale slowly, letting go of the breath you had been holding. This conversation is not going the way I planned, at all.

“Surely we can come to some sort of arrangement?”

He takes another half step closer so that his face is only a few inches from yours. You try not to breathe him in.

“I would love to make an ‘arrangement’ with you,” he says suggestively; his tone makes you think he might not just be talking about basketball practice, “but I’m not really in the mood.” He backs away from you slightly.

This must be his way of punishing me for Saturday. I can’t believe he’s being so petty!

He goes to walk away from you again.

“Billy, please.” You go to reach out and touch his arm but think better of it, dropping your hand back to your side. You hate grovelling to him, but you’re running out of options. “My team can’t practice on the forecourt for the rest of the season; there aren’t even any hoops out there! If you really have to practise on Tuesday and Thursdays can’t we work it out so that we each get one day in the gym and one day on the forecourt? Or you could let me have Wednesdays instead?” You’re desperately listing off your remaining options, just praying he’ll agree to one of them. “Please, I need something to work with here!” He smiles at you but it’s not friendly.

“Sorry Princess,” he puts emphasis on the new nickname, and you feel your face screw up in disgust of it, “your team might need the practice more than us, but as the only ones with any real chance of making it to the finals, we should get priority,” he says smugly.

How dare he?! We are every bit as good as them!

That’s it, to Hell with being civil!

“Well, you can’t stop me if I book the gym out before you,” you say petulantly, seething at his comment. He thinks he’s won, but he hasn’t. I’ll show him! I’ll just have to get here for as soon as the office opens. There’s no way he’d get here that early.

“Yeah, good luck with that,” he scoffs.

“Oh, it’s on, Hargrove. It is on.”

You start stomping away up the corridor but he calls after you.

“Hey, Y/N,” he says. You whip back around, scowling. “Nice scarf.”

His eyes meet yours and instantly you understand. He knows that underneath the patterned piece of material around your neck, is the mark that he left on you.

He laughs at your stunned expression, like a smug asshole, then heads back into the gym, leaving you standing there in the corridor, totally lost for words.

Chapter 4

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

My taglist is always open! Please let me know if you want to be added/ removed.

‘It’s On!’ Tags:

@alias-b @lets-hargroove @nottherightseason @charmed-asylum @proudlittlewitchbitch @lunalove4537 @hargroveswift @allabouthargrove @teddybearbarnes@simmisblog @thebellenouvelle @i-seeyouin-her @infinitelycharmed23 @jylanlove @articlesssssss @alongcamedolly @daughterofhecateandhades @thingsstrangerthanwinonaryder @merakily-exhausted @lilacs4amber

If there’s a dash through your name, I couldn’t tag you, sorry!

103 notes · View notes

theres-no-paradise · 6 years

Text

Sorry not Sorry

Chapter 2

Summary: A random number wakes you up early on a Saturday morning. But it doesn't stop there. The stranger keeps on sending messages, and you have no idea what is happening, when you start to develop feelings for the unknown person.

Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader [submit your name: How it works]

Chapter 1 Chapter 3

Y/N your Name

Y/F your friends name

Word Count: 1646

Warnings: There will be swearing for sure, lots of sarcasm

A/N: Part two of my little series. this chapter is a little shorter but I still hope you enjoy it anyway :)

It was a busy Thursday afternoon as you finished off your shift and got ready to call it a day. As you were packing up your bag, a little blinking light indicated that there was a new unread message on your smartphone. Sighing, you ignored the phone, since you didn't had time to check who messaged you as the train would be leaving soon. Thursdays were mostly the busiest and longest days for you at work. During peak hours, lots of customers would come in at the same time and that meant for you to multitask. Of course, you still had your colleagues around to help out but you wanted to do a good job as well and your boss to notice your hard work, so thursdays were more than exhausting for you.

As you were about to leave the building, you turned around and called out a “See ya’ll tomorrow”, before heading out into the warm spring day in London.

You hurried to the train station, taking two steps at once to reach the platform in time only to get greeted by a sign that had the information of delay on it. “Urgh fifteen minutes? When will the TFL get their shit together?”, you mumbled as you walked over to the bench to sit down and rest from the quick walk. As you waited for your train to arrive, you remembered that there was a message on your phone, waiting to be read. As you pulled out the device, first thing you noticed was the number. Sighing, you opened Whatsapp and checked the new message they’ve sent you.

+44 98 7654 3210: How old are you?

You: Why the fuck would I tell you my age?

After pressing the green send button, you kind of felt bad for the rude counter question. But on the other hand this stranger kind of annoyed you too. Back in the past, some of your fake friends would use your number to do pranks on you. Sometimes even call you in the middle of the night and just give your number out to random strangers, to send you creepy messages as well. Maybe that's why you felt so uneasy about the number texting you now. A vibration signalled you an incoming message and you looked at the screen again.

+44 98 7654 3210: Because I was asking for your age and not your national insurance number lol

You re-read the sentence a couple of times before you started to giggle. That was an answer you most definitely didn't expect but it cheered you up any way. Okay, maybe this stranger wasn't that bad, you thought.

You sat there for a few minutes, phone still in your handy as you stared down to the streets. Many people were rushing to the train station since it was rush hour time, but you just relaxed a little more and decided to type back a message.

You: And you know that I could tell you anything and it doesn't need to be true

You didn't want to make it too easy for the stranger. If they really wanted to know who they were texting, you would make it a little challenge. You kind of hoped, that with the way you messaged them, they would get annoyed by your stubbornness. Sometimes you enjoyed to be this rude. But only sometimes.

After a delay of a full 18 minutes, your train arrived at the platform. Crowds were moving towards the doors, pushing to get the best seats but you didn't care. The train ride wouldn't last long anyway so you just stood by the door, looking out of the window as the train started moving slowing. Staring out the window and listening to the people talking, another vibration caught your attention.

+44 98 7654 3210: Yeah you could but where's the fun in that? Im 21

You shook your head as you read the message. It kind of made sense to you now, why they were so nosy. Even though you weren't that much older, you smiled as you thought back to your early twenties. You definitely were an annoying young women, getting on the nerves of some of your friends. Sometimes you would talk nonsense, or behave weird, especially when drunk. Once you stopped going out on weekends on a regular basis, this behaviour kind of stopped.

As the train came to an halt in your neighbourhood, you left the waggon and walked down the stairs. Walking home took you a couple of minutes so you decided to text the stranger back.

You: Unbelievable I see why you're like this You are still a baby

+44 98 7654 3210: Ouch So you're older?

You: Somewhat. 25

The next incoming message came after a few minutes. You just got into your apartment as a vibration in your pocket startled you. Throwing your bag onto your sofa, you walked over to your kettle to fill it up with water. You couldn't wait to have a nice cup of tea and just drop down onto your sofa.

While the water boiled, you grabbed your phone to read the unread message.

+44 98 7654 3210: At least you're not a cougar!

“What is wrong with you?”, you asked the phone, shaking your head in disbelief. This must be a guy, you thought. No woman would use such a word. Also, did this person know that you were a girl? Or did they just assume over the way you texted with them? You just replied with one word, before you threw your phone on the table, not minding any more messages.

You: Weirdo

+44 98 7654 3210: :D

+44 98 7654 3210: I never asked for your name

You stared at the message for a couple of minutes, trying to absorb the sentence so that it made sense to you. Well, it did made sense but you felt uneasy about just answering, telling the stranger your name.

You: And why in the world should I tell you my name?

Your message sounded a little passive aggressive but you shrugged it off. This person could still be playing a prank on you or even worse, murder you if they were a serial killer. You started to think if they knew who you were. Maybe this whole thing was really just a prank?

+44 98 7654 3210: Well I wouldn't need to ask if you're a male or female

What a weird way to explain why you wanna know a person's name, wasn't it? You thought about writing down a neutral name, where you couldn't tell if the person was really a guy or a girl but another thought hit you.

You: omg Are you some kind of old ass pedophile?

No answer for about ten minutes and you got frustrated. You were still at work, but Friday afternoons were probably the most relaxed ones.

Just as you started to work on a booking, a new text message came in; but it didn't stop. Your phone vibrated three more times, and you got hold of it immediately, wondering what the sudden storm of messages was about.

+44 98 7654 3210: No!! Just curious! I swear! My names Tom

You laughed out loud.

The way he sent the messages, being all shocked, looked hilarious. You tried to imagine his face, the way his panicked expression must've looked but you couldn't help it and sigh in frustration. You had still no idea, who that person was even though he told you his name. You knew a few Tom’s but they were all mature enough not to do pranks on you. So who was this mysterious 21 year old named Tom, that disturbed your peaceful life?

You decided, to give another cocky answer just in case, you thought.

You: Good for you

You put your phone to the side, to keep on working on the bookings that you’ve just started to manage. After a little while, your phone vibrated again.

+44 98 7654 3210: Someones in a bad mood today

You: Dont you have anything important to do?

+44 98 7654 3210: Other than texting you? Nope :)

What did you expect him to answer, as you read his response? Of course he had fun asking all these questions and getting these sarcastic answers back. But you had to admit, you kind of started to enjoy the exchange of texts and it made you a little uncomfortable. This guy was a stranger after all and the feeling of being played with was still stuck deep in your mind.

You: Bye

+44 98 7654 3210: :(

You: :)

Putting the device back on the table, you concentrated back on your task. This person really had nerves to message you during working hours. A look on the clock told you, that it was nearly finishing time in the office and you hurried to get the last bookings ready. You didn't want customers to be waiting for their Confirmations the whole weekend, so you wanted to have it all ready by the time of closing hour. As you sent out the last Email, you shut off your Computer and packed up your stuff. It was already silent in the building, as most people had already called it a day. Only your boss and his secretary were still on the floor, preparing other stuff for upcoming fairs.

“See you monday”, you shouted and left the front door, hearing two voices calling out “Have a nice weekend” to you. Smiling, you left the office building and walked out to the always busy streets of London.

People were rushing from one place to another, tourists stopped by and took photos of every little detail and you smiled. A simple, close mouthed but happy smile. And then you just took your phone out and typed in the few letters, still smiling.

You: Y/N

Taglist: @hollandorks @beardedsteveslut

(Let me know if you wanna be tagged (: )

#tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #haz osterfield #tom holland imagine #th #sorry not sorry #sns

105 notes · View notes