I don’t care if it hurts (i wanna have control)
Read on AO3 here!
Billy staggers out of the house and down the front porch, the cool night air hitting him like a slap in the face. It takes him a few moments to notice what's wrong with the view and realize his car isn’t parked out front – and that his keys are now missing from his front pocket.
“FUCK!”
He howls the word, swinging around and punching the nearest porch beam. But as quickly as the anger comes, it stutters out and dies, leaving him feeling hollowed out and with one more injury to add to his tally.
His father's orders had been clear. Find Max, or don't bother coming back. The consequences didn’t bear thinking about.
-
Set post-S2, exploring Billy’s character and potential for redemption since I’m a simp for complicated assholes.
Had this sitting in my drafts since 2019 after binging ST S2 and have been obsessed with Billy ever since. What can I say, I like my characters with some ✨trauma✨
This fic was born out of my wanting to explore Billy's character and possible redemption. There might be some Steve/Billy in the future (because I ship those two so bad).
Here is an extended teaser for ya'll:
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Billy wakes to find himself sprawled on the floor, body aching and head pounding relentlessly with every heartbeat.
He blinks up at the ceiling, vision fuzzy, half expecting to find the silhouette of his father standing over him, having taken a ‘lesson’ one hit too far. But when he looks around, he is alone, and somewhere he doesn’t recognize.
The place is trashed, with paper tacked up on the walls and scattered across the floor. It is fucking creepy, and Billy has no recollection of how he ended up there, passed out on the floor.
Sitting up, Billy groans at the stretch of abused muscles. He brings a hand up to rub his face, wincing at the feeling of bruised flesh under his fingers and the tacky texture of drying blood.
He can taste it in his mouth, too, along with the sting of a cut lip.
There is blood on his knuckles as well, and he flexes his hands, feeling the familiar ache in them that comes after a good brawl. One that he evidently lost.
He stands, slipping on loose pieces of paper, and stumbles to the wall, leaning heavily against it when a sudden wave of nausea hits him. His stomach rolls, but Billy breathes through it until it recedes. He doesn’t remember drinking, but this feels like one hell of a hangover.
He pushes away from the wall and looks around again, hoping to find a clue to his current location. He is in a living room with shabby, well-worn furniture. It might have been a nice, homey sort of space if it hadn’t been for all the bits of paper on the walls, scribbled on with black crayons and pieced together in some giant, disturbing mural.
He steps more into the living area and feels something crunch under his heavy boot. He lifts his foot and looks down, seeing the crushed remains of a syringe. The sight of it brings back fragmented memories of the evening.
He remembers his father’s threats—the humiliating sting of a slap against his cheek and the orders that followed.
He remembers his frenzied search over town for a step-sister he couldn’t give two shits about. Playing nice with all the parents of that nerdy bunch of friends before Mrs. Wheeler finally gave him the information that led him to the Byers's house, where Steve fucking Harrington had barred his way, having the gall to lie to his face while Max watched from the window with the same fucking kids he had warned her away from.
And he remembers the fight that followed, the rush of anger that had consumed him at Harrington’s dispassionate demand for him to get out like he had the authority over what Billy could or couldn’t do. But Billy already had his orders. He wasn’t going to leave without Max, so he started a fight, laughing as the follow-up punches connected, tasting blood on his tongue but unable to stop fucking laughing because this time he could fight back. He could make Harrington hurt in the same way without fear of retribution.
And it had been glorious – the control he had at that moment – the feel of skin splitting under his knuckles before a sharp prick in his neck had pulled him from his own bloodlust. Then his vision blurring, and his body going heavy. A fleeting image of Max standing over him yelling before darkness.
Billy stomps down on the syringe, grinding the crushed remains into the floor as anger flares up in his, hot and quick.
His fucking bitch of a step-sister had drugged him.
He clenches his fists, wishing he had something to hit right now. He spins around, and his eyes catch on a spot on the floor, where splatters of dried blood can be seen. They are barely noticeable, but Billy is more than used to cleaning his own blood off the ground to miss it.
—Harrington staggers back as Billy smashes the plate across his head. Billy takes advantage of the other boy's distraction to throw him to the floor—
—Harrington sprawled out on the floor below him, beaten and bloody. Billy pulls his hand back for another punch, and another, and another—
The flashes of memory are so vivid that Billy feels sick all over again, but this time it's at his own actions. He’s been in plenty of fights over the years, but none of them have gone so far.
Because he knows, with sudden, cold certainty, that if Max hadn’t intervened, he would have kept on punching, kept pouring out his anger on Harrington until he was spent – perhaps even killing Harrington in the process.
And he may be an asshole, but he has never wanted to be a murderer.
Eager for a distraction from the direction of his thoughts, Billy staggers out of the house and down the front porch, the cool night air hitting him like a slap in the face. It takes him a few moments to notice what's wrong with the view and realize his car isn’t parked out front - and that his keys are now missing from his front pocket.
“FUCK!”
He howls the word, swinging around and punching the nearest porch beam. But as quickly as the anger comes, it stutters out and dies, leaving him feeling hollowed out and with one more injury to add to his tally.
And now he is doubly screwed. No Max, no car, and still half fucked from the drugs in his system.
His father's orders had been clear. Find Max, or don't bother coming back. The second half had gone unspoken, but the dangerous glint in his father's eyes had told him enough of the punishment he would get for failure.
The consequences didn’t bear thinking about.
---
Read the rest on AO3!
Klaus isn’t sure what drives his next movement. He had never been particularly valiant or self-sacrificing – usually leaving those stupid heroics to Luther or Diego. But he is suddenly on his feet and stepping in between the detective and the hitwoman as she pulls the trigger.
The bullet hits his chest moments later and Klaus staggers back, feeling the impact like a punch to the chest.
-
Klaus’s rescue from Hazel and Cha Cha plays out a little differently. Instead of escaping through the vent and disappearing into the past, Klaus takes the bullet meant for Detective Patch and bleeds out on the motel floor. The thing is, he doesn’t stay dead.
Cue, afterlife epiphanies, surprise revivals and Diego & Ben being mother hens.
[AU, set during Episode 4: Man on the Moon]
(this is my excuse to write angst and put my favourite characters through hell 🙃)
The dark look in Alec’s eyes was all the warning Magnus got before he was pushed up against the wooden column behind him and being kissed like his life depended on it.
A smutty expansion to the training scene between Magnus and Alec during the episode 'Original Sin' because it was just too delicious to pass by and I need to practise writing smut somehow... ;)
Full story below (or read on AO3 here!)
“I told you not to flirt with me.”
The dark look in Alec’s eyes was all the warning Magnus got before he was pushed up against the wooden column behind him and being kissed like his life depended on it.
The spark of lust that had been present during their sparring grew into an inferno as Alec’s mouth met his, their tongues clashing as they fought a different type of battle. The heat of Alec’s mouth and the hard muscle of his body pressing against him was intoxicating and Magnus couldn’t get enough of it, arching into the feeling as he pulled Alec impossibly closer with a tight knuckled grip on the back of his t-shirt.
As the kiss deepened Magnus’ hands started to wander, tugging at the clothing that was hiding the masterpiece of Alec’s body. He wanted to feel the naked skin of his lover beneath his hands, trace the muscles with his tongue and suck hickeys into his pale flesh, uncaring that they were in a public space where anyone could stumble across them at any moment. It was pretty tame considering the types of situations he had been caught up in over the course of his life.
Just when Magnus had managed to get his hands under Alec’s shirt, Alec broke the kiss with a gasp. He stepped back, looking thoroughly debauched with his kiss swollen lips and rumbled clothing. Magnus tried to pull him back but was held back by a firm hand on his chest.
“Hold that thought.” Alec panted out, and Magnus pouted. He was about to protest when Alec straighten up, shooting Magnus a look that was pure sin.
“Bedroom, now.” He ordered and Magnus shivered at the commanding tone, eagerly following his shadowhunter out of the training room, enjoying the view he would soon be seeing naked.
He just loved it when Alec acted this way.
They barely made it to Magnus’ loft before they were on each other again. Alec once again taking the lead, pushing Magnus backwards into the bedroom with frenzied kisses until Magnus felt the back of his knees hit the the bed and fell back onto the covers.
Leaning back, he found himself in the best position position to appreciate the view Alec afforded him. He watched closely as Alec stripped off his shirt, taking his time with removing the garment before his hands dropped to undo the button on his jeans – slowly – and with the purpose of driving Mangus absolutely crazy.
But he was patient enough to let Alec take the lead and dictate the pace, loving when Alec would take charge of their sexual activities. It was a far cry from the shy, sexually repressed man Magnus had met a year earlier. All his new found confidence was rather sexy.
“You’re wearing too many clothes.” Alec remarked when he was half way undressed, jeans sitting sinfully low on his hips as he regarded the still fully clothed Magnus before him.
“You have provided quite a distraction, my dear.” Magnus pointedly looked over the naked flesh on display, paying particular attention to the trail of hair that lead down to what was most assuredly Alec’s rather impressive erection.
“I want them off.” Alec growled.
“Then why don’t you come over here and help me?” Magnus quipped, raising his eyebrows challengingly and letting out a laugh when Alec all but pounced on him in the haste to remove his clothing. His shirt was nearly ripped from his body, followed quickly by his pants and underwear that Alec pulled off in one go, discarding them messily to the floor.
Before Magnus could do anything Alec had knelt before him and swallowed his cock down. Magnus sucked in a shocked breath, holding back just barely from thrusting up into the wondrous sensation and gripping the sheets under him for support.
Alec had discovered rather early into their relationship how much fun it could be to give head and under a little guidance from Magnus, he had mastered the art of driving a man crazy with his mouth alone. Within minutes Magnus could feel himself starting to come apart, filthy words pouring from his mouth in encouragement as his orgasm approached at a rapid pace. A final twist of Alec’s tongue was his undoing and Magnus came with a hoarse shout, back arching off the bed in pleasure as Alec continued to wring pleasure from him, swallowing everything Magnus was giving until he was limp and sated.
Alec crawled up to settle next to him on the bed and Magnus turned towards him, stroking his cheek and looking into his lovers eyes.
“You are a treasure.” He said tenderly before threading his hand into Alec’s messy hair and pulling him in for a kiss that quickly turned filthy. Magnus could taste himself on Alec’s tongue and it was enough to kickstart his arousal and remind him that he owed Alec an orgasm. Never one to leave a lover unsatisfied, Magnus took control the situation, rolling them both over until he was on top.
Time to have a bit of fun.
Leaning down he kissed Alec again, before following his earlier plan of mapping out Alec’s naked skin with his tongue and teeth. Mouthing his way down Alec’s neck he gave into the urge to suck a few sizeable hickeys into the skin, his possessive side wanting to see his lover marked as hisbefore continuing downwards, paying particular attention to the areas he knew were most sensitive and enjoying the hitched little moans Alec gave in response.
Magnus’ progress was eventually thwarted when he came to the waistband of Alec’s pants and underwear he was still wearing. Magnus waved his hands in a gesture that would have usually removed the clothes in seconds before remembering himself and setting about removing them by hand as quickly as possible.
As soon as Alec’s impressive erection slipped free, Magnus dove down and swallowed him whole, returning the favour Alec had given him ten fold, using his centuries of practise to reduce Alec to a whimpering mess. After a few minutes, when Magnus felt Alec getting close to orgasm, he pulled off with a wet pop and looked up with a smug grin when Alec’s head jerked up in surprise.
“Fucking tease.” Alec growled and Magnus smirked at the frustration evident in Alec’s voice.
“Surely you would prefer to wait for the main event?” Magus suggested, reaching for the bottle of lube on the bedside table and uncapping the lid. He slid off Alec and settled himself against the headboard, legs spread and unabashedly as he started to prepare himself for what would come next. Alec turned on his side, pupils blown wide with lust as he watched the show Magnus was putting on for him and if Magnus had any shame left he would be blushing scarlet by the rapt way Alec watched the proceedings.
Instead he felt his body reacting to the attention, and he let his legs open wider encouragingly. Alec took the cue and joined in eagerly, trailing his fingers lightly along Magnus’ inner thighs, balls and stroking teasingly along his once again erect cock. It was exquisite torture, all the sensations having the effect of getting Magnus all worked up and more than halfway desperate by the time he deemed himself prepared enough.
“Now who's being the tease,” Magnus panted out as he removed his fingers and positioning himself in clear invitation, ready to the hell on with it.
“You deserved it.” Alec ginned impishly but happily moved into position and slowly entered him. They both groaned at the feeling, mouths meeting for more heated kisses as they started to pick up the pace. It didn’t take long for Alec’s control to fray through and with plenty of encouragement from Magnus, started to pound into Mangus in a way the Warlock knew he would be feeling – in the best possible way – for days afterwards.
Despite his previous orgasm, Magnus was achingly hard and desperate for release after a few minutes. Alec had an uncanny ability to nail his prostate on every single thrust and Magnus knew he wouldn’t last much longer, Determined to get Alec off first he dredged up the last of his strength and squeezed down on Alec’s next thrust. Alec let out a surprised shout at the sensation, pace faltered before picking up again, faster than ever as he chased his orgasm. Seeming to know they were both close Alec reached between them to grip Magnus tightly, stroking him in just the right way to drive him wild and ensure that when they finally reached the glittering high, they both rode it together.
Afterwards, when they had both cleaned up and were lying tangled together, boneless and satisfied on the rumpled sheets, Magnus leaned up to press a chaste kiss to the side of Alec’s mouth.
“I think I prefer this type of training.” Magnus stated and Alec laughed in response, pulled Magnus closer.
“Not sure how helpful this would be when fighting off demons.”
“You mean I can’t just seduce them with–” Alec kissed Magnus to shut him up and Magnus grinned.
“No seducing the enemy. I might get jealous.”
“But you look so adorable when your jealous.” Magnus teased and Alec let out a growl, shifting until he was pinning Magnus down.
“There you see, adorable.” Magnus laughed when Alec’s nose wrinkled at being called ‘adorable’ but soon his mouth was being occupied in other, rather important activities and Magnus only had enough thought to wonder, not for the first time, how he had gotten so lucky.
