#like maybe it was Susan down the road | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bigfatbimbo · 2 months

Note

Please do continue about girldick Charlie! I want to see your thoughts!

girldick charlie x reader general headcanons —

summary — Vague, horny and self indulgent rambles about girldick Charlie… obviously

a/n — I love her so much. My problem is that no one ever requests her! Anyways, i’m eating this prompt up.

warning — smut, charlie is a switch and so is the reader in this scenario, girldick, oral, degradation and praise, NOT ENTIRELY PROOFREAD!!!

***QUICK BACKUP INFO IF YOU DIDN’T SEE THE POST!!! Basically, we see that Lucifer has the ability to shapeshift, and since i’ve already written boycunt Lucifer… and Charlie is his daughter… maybe that ability would be… passed on. No because like you would just ask her like, “Dick tonight, baby?” and she’d be like “Of course, sweetie. Anything for you!” as if it’s not a wild as fuck request. Like you’re literally asking ‘Hey, can you casually just switch up your body parts for a sec? I feel like getting fucked outta my mind.’ And Charlie is just down immediately. Anything to make you happy and feeling taken care of is okay with her. Stressful day? Feeling bad about yourself? Just horny as fuck? Your problems will be solved with Charlie’s dick and the best goddamn aftercare of your life. Because when Charlie leads, she’s absolutely a soft dom/service top. Everything she says and does is to make you have a good experience because to her, sex is not about how she feels! She is ensuring you’re having a great time at any cost. So maybe you had a super stressful day, you’re anxious about work you didn’t do or didn’t compete well enough, and it’s bugging you. She’s coaxing you into taking a break, telling you she’d take care of you. Her comforting words while rubbing your shoulder quickly turns into her on top of you, gently fucking into you with praising words. She’s rutting into you at a steady, but not rough pace, with her hands pining your wrists above the bed. And she’s going on and on, semi-coherently might I add because she’s very sensitive, about how proud of you she is, and how hard you worked, and how you’ve done everything to deserve this. And even though she’s not used to having a dick so she’s super touchy and hypersensitive, she would literally never cum until you have. Your pleasure comes first, always. But…. mean Charlie does something to me. Because she’s not easily upset, doesn’t have a temper, and is very nice. However, her demon form?? That ‘fuck you’ to Susan?? When she’s mad it’s a whole other story. Imagine the rare situation pissing her. Poking her and fucking with her, giving her kids of shit and attitude all day, and then finally she snaps. And she uncharacteristically aggressive. Her horns come out and she fuck you actually rough, with little to no mercy. But after one round she’d go back to her normal praising self, making up for her degrading words with loads of praise while she recedes into her normal gentle pace. Anyways, let’s talk about subby girldick Charlie, thank you very much. There are two roads you could take; very praising, or needlessly mean. Charlie and praise stick out to me so much. She’s always doing everything in other peoples favor. She solves other people’s problems, not her own. A little hypocritical, don’t you think. So she’s in her office overworking herself as usual, but you can’t stand that. Obviously, you go to put a stop to it. Giving her a long kiss, before whispering, “Dick today, please.” and she’d hesitate and be like “Honey… I have a lots of work to do and—“ but you’d emphasize your first point with a harsher, but not mean, strict tone, “Now, baby.” She’d reluctantly oblige, watching as you sink to your knees and pull her pants down, reading her hardening cock. “Oh, you think now is really the best time too— nngh!” she’d try to protest, being cut off with a moan as you drag your tongue across the length of your dick. After muttering about how ‘beautiful’ she is, you fully sink your mouth down onto her, taking her in. Your pace starts slow, getting used to her dick in your mouth, pulling out whimpers from Charlie as she leans back in her chair, and softly petting her thighs to comfort her. But then you speed up, and Charlie’s whimpers become loud and needy whines. She can’t help how fast she cums in your mouth. “I’m so sorry— I— Are you okay? Was that too much?” But then you fucking swallow and go back down for more. The only times you pull away are to tell her how pretty she is, how amazing she’s doing, and how beautiful she sounds

And let me tell you, she is reeling under all the praise. She’s squirming in her seat while you suck her cock dry, all while saying such nice things. She can barely contain herself, even when her eyes go red and her horns come out.

But, imagine being mean to her about it. Like practically demanding her dick, but this time, in a mean way. Shoving her down on the mattress and riding her dick so fast and rough she can barely take it.

And when her eyes full with tears because of the overstimulation, degrading her for being such a crybaby. “Oh please, Charlie. You can’t even handle this? Is the poor princess crying over how good her dicks being rode? Pathetic.”

And she cries even harder because she didn’t even do anything to warrant that!! But she finds it harder and harder to be upset when you’re humping her rougher after every orgasm.

It’s fogging up her brain so bad, she can’t even ask you to stop being mean anymore, she just whines and arches off the mattress as you slam your pussy against her achey, used up dick. Now, would she call you mommy while you ride her dick in oblivion? Well with the absence of her own… no yeah. The answer is yeah. Oh, and imagine making her have a dick JUST to peg her and not give any stimulation or attention to it at all. Hearing her whine as her hands go to jerk herself off, but batting them away, telling her she needs to be patient.

a/n — Boy oh boy, do I love being mean to nice people, or what, folks? Anyways, send more Charlie requests. We as a society need more of her.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel smut #dom reader #inbox open #charlie morningstar #charlie morningstar x reader #charlie morningstar x you #charlie morningstar smut #charlie hazbin hotel

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jo-harrington · 4 months

Text

Stranger Than (Fan)Fiction - Chapter 1: Alternate Universe

Previous Chapter: Prologue: Crossover

Summary: Your unexpected arrival in Hawkins brings many questions for Eddie...but he knows better than to ask dumb questions.

Word Count: 5.1k

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader

Warnings/Themes: No-Upside-Down AU, Fluff, Love at First Sight?, Tiny Angst if you Squint, Isekai, Mentions of FOI-compliant events and characters, Lovesick Eddie, unbelievable pacing...just roll with it, Everything's Coming Up Munson

Note: Thanks to everyone who read the prologue.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

It seemed like everyone was there to say goodbye.

Your parents, Sam, Pat, Bonnie, all of your friends and their families. Everyone you know.

What a surprise.

You thought it was gonna be a quick morning getaway.

You'd already had dinner at Danny's last night with your parents and had seen countless faces—familiar and unfamiliar—who'd wished you well. This morning was just supposed to be about bags placed in the trunk, last minute hugs and tears from your mom, and then off you'd go.

You hadn't expected this.

Some little voice inside of you questioned why you hadn't; you'd known them all for practically your whole life.

5 years.

What...no...18 years.

Why wouldn't they want to be here as you embarked on your big journey away?

Sam gave a tearful speech. Your dad made some corny joke that only a dad could, one that had everyone in uproarious laughter--more laughter than people, it seemed--and then it was time to go.

You didn't have a real schedule, of course, you just wanted to make it to your destination with ample time. Nothing like driving into an unfamiliar town in the middle of the night only to find yourself in a heap of trouble.

Pat, ever observant, was the one to notice the anxiety etched on your face. He was as much your best friend as Sam was, maybe even more than she was; you'd known each other since Kindergarten, sat next to each other in the reading circle, of course he could tell you were itching to leave.

"Alright guys," he announced, clapping his hands twice the way a star quarterback would. "I'm sure she's ready to get away from all of us."

"Yeah," Sam let out a watery laugh. "You need to go so you can come back as soon as possible. Wink wink." She flashed her hand with the little diamond chip engagement ring that you helped Pat pick out, and then she collapsed against you in a hug.

"You go and you have the best time," she whispered in your ear. You nodded and buried your face in her hair. "I can't wait to hear all about it. Write letters home? Call? But don't worry about us, we'll all be safe here. Ok?"

"Yeah," you said breathlessly.

Then the next thing you knew, in the blink of an eye, you were in the driver's seat of your car, rolling towards the end of the block. You adjusted your rearview mirror and saw everyone you loved waving goodbye to you. You rolled down your window, and blew them a kiss and sent a wave; you'd miss them so much. You'd be back soon enough though; now it was time for you to just be free.

“Go back?” you quoted one Mr. Bilbo Baggins to yourself as you turned the corner and left everything you knew behind. “Impossible! Go forward? Only thing to do! On we go!”

This was it.

Eddie was dead.

That had to be the explanation.

Your car was one thing, and he could excuse it. He could convince himself it was anything else.

But you? His favorite character from his favorite television show. Someone who was absolutely, definitely fictional.

It was impossible.

"Hey!" you called out to the Mayfields with your voice, your your voice and not Rosemary Glass's voice. Your real voice. Yours.

Eddie pinched himself pretty unforgivingly—one last ditch effort to prove this was a dream—and winced.

Not dreaming. Definitely dead.

You quickly shut the door and crossed the distance towards Susan and Max.

"I'm sorry, it's late and it's cold; I've been driving all over and the road got icy, I must have lost traction. Need new tires maybe."

"Too bad," Susan snapped at you. "You hit my car, I'm calling the sheriff."

The two of you went back and forth for a second as you tried to get her not to call the cops and she stood her ground.

"I can pay for it!" You exclaimed suddenly and Susan froze in her spot. "And then some, for...I dunno, emotional distress I guess. I know it's late. I'm sure I woke you guys up. I'm just...I'm sorry."

You looked around self consciously all of a sudden, and Eddie could hear the faint murmur as you said something under your breath. He froze as your gaze slid over him, paused, and then kept going.

Play it cool, Munson. Don't pass out. Don't fuck this up.

It was hard when the love of his life was standing right there, in the flesh, and had just looked at him.

As Susan and Max met you in the middle of the yard to talk details, Eddie gave himself the pep talk of the century.

Even if he was dead and this was some sort of afterlife, surely the fates had certainly set this up for him. Some being of greater conscience than he--a mere human--could possibly comprehend was giving him this chance at...love? Happiness? It would be a good reward after an unremarkable end to a shitty life.

Or maybe he was still alive and had actually sold his soul to the devil back inside and this was the payoff.

"I'll fucking take it," he muttered to himself and fished another cigarette from the pack with shaky hands; he was gonna need it if he was gonna survive the night.

He watched the interaction between you and Susan with a keen eye, eager to witness the little gestures and mannerisms that he'd only seen on screen. Once it seemed Susan was happy with whatever deal you'd negotiated, you pulled a scrap of paper from the back pocket of your jeans and gesture vaguely around. Max was the one to snatch it from your hand and then point to a dark trailer that sat kitty corner from Granny's.

Were you gonna be his neighbor? This was just getting better and better.

"Thanks," you smiled and, even from this distance, Eddie's heart stopped.

If he was barely hanging on thanks to your presence, how was he gonna survive your smile? Especially if it was inevitably directed at him.

"Pull it together," he grumbled and took a long drag from his cigarette, the cherry flaring extra bright in the darkness of night.

The Mayfields retreated into their home and you shuffled back over to your car, feet kicking the gravel.

You were about to get back in when Eddie abruptly jumped to his feet.

"Hey!" He called out to you. "Uh...I...know my way around cars, I can take a look at it in the morning. I-if you want. Bang out any dents."

"Can you?" you scrunched your nose in the way that made his knees shake. God he was pathetic. "That'd be nice, thanks."

"Yeah no problem," he smiled the friendliest and most welcoming smile he could.

His thoughts raced at lightspeed now, a mixture of logic and hope. No matter the circumstance, you were here because of him, which meant that this was his shot. So, he would fix your car--or at least try to--figure out if you were some sort of demon or something, and then ask you out.

Easy.

And hopefully you'd say yes. Hopefully. Eddie was gonna be optimistic, but not an idiot. He had to stay humble.

As you maneuvered your car the short distance to the dark trailer, Eddie watched. And in the glow of your taillights, he noticed the abundance of bumper stickers that adorned the trunk. Stickers that weren’t there in the finale, which meant…

"She got to have her adventure," he said to himself in awe, happy that...at least in the few months since you left Port Geneva, you might’ve gotten to experience the world just like you wanted to.

He couldn't wait to ask you all about it. He couldn't wait to find out everything.

The morning took way too long to arrive.

Eddie tried to sleep but he was too wired, too excited.

He already decided that he was gonna skip class the next day. Or maybe roll in late if you had someplace you needed to be and he wouldn't get to show you around town or something else totally not lame.

That’s what he was banking on, though. If you had no plans, he could take you to Benny’s and get you a short stack with fresh strawberries and whipped cream, just like you got at Danny’s Diner back home.

“Alright,” he stared at himself in the mirror as he stepped out of the shower. “See? You can’t do that kind of shit. Can’t scare her away by making her think you know her already. That’s creepy. Gotta act like we don't know her. Easy.”

Not that easy, actually.

He was just...bubbling with thoughts and feelings. Enough that they caused his brain to go into meltdown.

At first, he tried to rationalize it all, tried to come up with some solution. Because somehow, for reasons to be determined at a later time, you left the confines of Port Geneva’s universe and made it to this one, where you were actually definitely real.

Right? You couldn't be a hallucination if the Mayfields had talked to you too. In fact, they talked to you first. So if anything, you were their hallucination.

Eddie tried to recall something that Henderson and Sinclair had babbled on about at lunch the other day: some new issue of the Flash comics. Crisis on Infinite Universes or something where people jumped to different timelines. Whatever that meant. If he had the time, he knew he should ask them a few questions about different universes and how this might all be possible.

Purely hypothetical, spin it as some idea for a campaign.

But why would he wait and let a good thing pass him up just because this was weird and he had questions?

Best case scenario, no one beside him would realize that you were a tv character, they would just think your name was familiar or something.

Worst case scenario they accuse him of witchcraft and bringing you into this dimension or something because there was no way you were real.

It would all work itself out in the end. He just had to be uncharacteristically optimistic and keep his eyes on the prize.

Come morning, Wayne got home from work and he walked in the door just as Eddie had changed clothes for the fifth time, made coffee AND breakfast for him, and washed the dishes.

“Well isn’t this a surprise,” he remarked and stared at the scene in front of him. “Do I wanna know what you did?”

“You remember when I was younger,” Eddie began as he fiddled with his rings. “And I asked you…I dunno…something about the birds and the bees and you said ‘I’ll tell you when you’re older kid?’”

“Hmm,” Wayne crossed his arms over his chest and ran a hand over his mouth. “Go on.”

“It’s nothing bad but, uh, I’ll tell you when you’re older Wayne.”

His uncle cracked a fond smile, gave him a pat on the shoulder, and then shuffled down to the bathroom.

Eddie sighed in relief and took a sip of his coffee while he looked out the window towards your trailer. It was daytime now; he didn’t expect to see lights on or anything, but he knew you got in late and didn’t want to interrupt your sleep. Not a great first impression.

Before long, though, he’d just gotten too antsy to wait anymore. He practically sprinted—damn when was he gonna learn that he shouldn’t skip gym so much—across the park to your door, Wayne's meager toolbox from under the sink swinging from his hand.

He paused the slightest bit to admire your car--

How many hours of screen time had been spent in this exact car as you drove Sam and the gang around for various shenanigans. There was one episode, a favorite of his, where everyone was belting out a tune from the radio and you sat there in the driver's seat...too shy to open your mouth. When they finally coerced you? You had the worst singing voice...but you smiled so brightly...that was the moment he knew he loved you...

--and, more importantly, the stickers that adorned it.

There were some normal ones: funny phrases, a few band stickers he wouldn’t have expected you to listen to, and a single borderline political one. A sticker that specifically caught his eye said “Greetings from Erebor” with a sword that had to be Orcrist and dwarvish runes below it.

You were a girl after his own heart; fortunately, it already belonged to you.

Then there were the ones you’d obviously picked up on your travels. He took an extra moment to look at them and think of some questions he could ask. A favorite place you visited, something crazy you might have eaten, or even some fun facts about...Monument Valley, Ocala National Forest, Mystic Falls Virginia, or…Cicely Alaska?

“Damn,” he let out a low whistle. “Must've put some miles on this thing.”

Having spent enough time just standing there, Eddie finally climbed the stairs and knocked on your door; the walls were thin enough that he could hear you shuffling around inside and he was relieved that he hadn’t woken you.

The door swung open--Eddie swore he heard the applause track from Port Geneva play in his head--and then there you were.

It was a moment he would cherish in his heart for the rest of his days. You, standing there, smiling that sweet, unsure smile at him with slightly tired but nevertheless bright eyes. Your clothes were askew from sleep or aforementioned shuffling and you straightened them out a little when you realized what you might look like.

“Cigarette porch guy,” you pointed a finger at him in recollection after a moment.

Now was the time, though, to muster up every ounce of Munson Magic that he could. He collected it deep in the core of him and then let it mingle with affection in his heart.

"Cigarette porch guy is my father. You can just call me Eddie."

You snorted a laugh and he beamed confidently; that confidence, however, fled his body as he felt the urge to hop around, giggle, and say "I know" when you introduced yourself. He needed to not screw this up by being a hyper mega-fan.

“I was so tired when I got in, I honestly thought you were a figment of my imagination,” you explained. "I woke up at like...4am trying to figure out if you were real or not."

Funny. He was trying to figure out the same thing.

Still, his heart skipped a beat to know you'd thought about him in any capacity after the few words you'd shared.

“Ouch,” he laid a hand on his chest and feigned a stumble. “I know it was late but I would hope I made a bit of a better impression than that.”

You pressed your lips together, scrunched your nose, and looked down at your feet.

“I’m, uh,” Eddie thumbed over his shoulder. “Here to take a look at your car.”

“Oh!” Your head snapped right back up. “Right! Yes, oh my god thank you. Let me just…get my keys and my shoes hang on.”

You retreated back into the trailer and Eddie, nosy as he was, peeked inside after you. Wayne would be ashamed of him, but he couldn't exactly care right now.

Your trailer mirrored other ones in the park, in terms of layout: a living room, a little kitchen, a hall that probably led to a bedroom. There was furniture though, which was not the norm.

A green armchair and a very well-worn blue plaid sofa that was home to a granny-square quilt, a too-soft pillow, and a very fancy canvas bedroll that Eddie assumed must have belonged to you. There was a dusty coffee table stacked with dustier magazines and newspapers and some very questionable looking mugs and plates of what used to be food. Yuck. A green bicycle with one tire was hung vertically on the wall beside the couch. And a little dining set off the kitchen looked like something straight out of the Brady Bunch.

He tried to remember who lived here before you did with such weird taste in furniture. Even more peculiar, where they might have gone for them to leave all of it behind. Especially the plates. No one came to mind though; he'd have to ask Wayne.

You shuffled down the hall--presumably from the bathroom since you'd slept out on the couch--and hopped as you tugged your sneakers on.

You jingled your keys at him excitedly.

"Here we go," you exclaimed. He held his hand out to take them and you were about to drop them in his palm when you hesitated. "I hope I'm not putting you out."

"Of course not," he reassured you and then backed out of the doorway. "It's my pleasure."

You listened aptly as he touted his excellent mechanic skills--

"You, uh...might hear my van rumble a little bit though. Haven't quite figured out why it's making that sound yet."

--and then you sat on the porch steps to watch him as he got to work.

The two of you talked as he inspected your car.

You were surprisingly very good at making conversation. Eddie always believed that you were a little soft spoken or a little shy, watching you on tv. However, as you spoke so excitedly and confidently and he saw you bloom in front of his very eyes, he wondered if it was just a byproduct of being overlooked whenever Sam took the spotlight with her grand speeches, big emotions, and too-bright personality.

He was suddenly excited at the prospect of seeing the real you and learning a lot more that wasn't shown on TV. In return, he could show you the real him too. Hell, he was always trying to be the real him...there were just some things though...

What an odd idea that hadn't really hit him until now. The desire to have you in his life to share things with, and the reality of having you here. He'd never thought of a relationship with a future before, hell hadn't even thought of his future really. Not even with Paige and the whole rockstar pipe dream, as short-lived as that was.

But the more he thought of that with you, the more he liked it. Desired it.

You started the conversation off by asking him about Hawkins and if he'd lived here for long. He gave probably the most unbiased opinion that he could as he hammered out the dents from your collision: it was a sleepy suburb where nothing ever happened and everyone was judgmental and opinionated and hated everyone who disturbed the status quo.

“Aren’t they all like that?” You asked, one eye sliding shut in a mischievous wink as you raised both brows in question.

“Yeah, I’m sure they are.”

Then he asked you about how you ended up in Hawkins, of all the places you could have picked, as he taped up the headlight that you'd cracked.

"It was fate or something. Had to bring me here so I could meet you right?" He sputtered over a response to that and you just laughed. "Actually, I just picked a place on a map. Pick two places. Flip a coin. That's how I pick most places I’ve been, you know?"

You took the opportunity to spin a tale about the so-called "perpetual roadtrip" that you'd embarked for the past year. His heart soared to hear that you’d been “practically everywhere” and he nodded eagerly when you offered to show him your sketchbook sometime with drawings of your favorite places.

"I know I need to go home at some point," you explained with a dismissive wave of your hand. "I guess I just don't know how to...stop driving. I've started this thing recently where I settle down somewhere for a little while. Maybe a few weeks? Maybe more. Get a job, get to know the people. Then I get to like...the final page of that chapter--the end of my little story in that place--and it's time for me to move on again.

"Actually, I guess it's not moving onto the next chapter; it's more like I've been written into a corner. I just...don't know what it is that I'm looking for. What it is that I need."

Eddie snorted to himself.

How many times had he asked himself what deity wrote his story into a pathetic corner where he couldn't leave Hawkins? And here you were feeling the same, only you were stuck in another way.

"Well...I hope you don't move on from Hawkins too quickly," he said, full of naive hope. "Maybe you'll find what you need here."

"Hmm," you rested your chin on your knees and sighed. "You know what? I kinda hope so too."

There was a lot of weight in your gaze as you watched him, and Eddie cleared his throat awkwardly and continued his inspection of the outside of the car so he wouldn’t make a fool out of himself with a mushy smile or a giggle.

He made his way back to the trunk and the bumper stickers; it was then that he asked about Cicely.

"Alaska? Seriously? You drove all the way up there?"

"Ok listen," you said with a conspiratorial grin. "I'm maybe a little bit of a phony. I traded someone for that one. This guy in a diner in Washington."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mmhmm. Damn fine cup of coffee." You snorted to yourself, some inside joke that he wished to be a part of.

"Is that, uh...a perpetual roadtrip thing?"

"I…I guess it is."

Finally, to end his self-proclaimed "ten-point inspection," Eddie got into the driver's seat to start the car, chatting all the while.

"Well, if you want a damn fine cup of coffee, there's this diner nearby that I swear makes the best. I know I haven't driven past Chicago or anything but..."

He trailed off as he turned the key in the ignition and noticed the odometer.

Your miles were in the millions.

Several million, at that.

He had half a mind to call you on your shit that you'd never been to Alaska because, surely, you had to have been with that high a number, but then he began to question the sight. He didn't think his odometer even went that high; none of the cars he'd ever seen went into the millions.

Was it just a Volkswagen thing? Or maybe a bi-product of you being here? A wrinkle in the fabric of reality?

Eddie tried to do the mental math but he couldn't figure out how many times you must have circled the states to hit that many miles. Or for how long.

A million miles divided by 365 days divided by 12 hours of driving in a day? He couldn’t do that much math without his head hurting. Still, it just didn't make sense. Maybe it was just broken?

"Everything alright?" you suddenly appeared at the door, teeth worrying your lower lip. You laughed but it didn’t quite meet your eyes. "You were just saying something about coffee and then you got all quiet. I don't need a new transmission or something do I?"

“You…” Eddie swallowed and stared at you, wondering if he should point out the odometer, if he should ask. Bur hadn't that been his problem just a few hours ago? Too many questions, too little time. Why was he going to pick this wonderful thing apart when he finally got what he deserved and yearned for all along.

“You...probably need an oil change,” he announced instead. “It sounds a little clunky. I, uh, can do it for you but I’ll need to stop by Thatcher Tires for some supplies.”

Your shoulders lost their tension and you let out a sigh of relief.

“Eddie, you’re seriously trying to be my hero, huh?” You fawned; hearing his name from your lips, let alone the fact you called him a hero, made his day. His year. Possibly his entire life. “You wanna fix everything else that’s wrong with my life?”

“I could try,” he offered eagerly.

“Don’t, I’ll seriously take you up on the offer.” You pressed your hands to your cheeks then looked back at the trailer. “Ok tell you what, give me like…20 minutes to get the road off of me and change. Then we can go to Thatcher Tires and you can show me this place with the best cup of coffee? And I can get you breakfast or something?”

Eddie was speechless again; were you…asking him out? Ok no you were just showing your gratitude, but it was a first step. Was everything going according to plan for the first time in his life?

He couldn’t count everything that happened in ‘84 for obvious reasons.

You noticed his hesitation and your eyes went wide.

“Unless you had other plans or someplace to be? I’ve already taken up enough of your time—“

“No!” He shouted and then backtracked to be a little softer. “I…no, there’s nothing else I have to do today. I’m…I’m all yours sweetheart.”

The rest of the day went by without a hitch.

And it truly was the rest of the day that you spent together.

It was almost too good to be true.

Eddie acted as chauffeur and self-proclaimed tour guide of Hawkins. He pointed out specific landmarks you'd need to know as he passed them: the town center, the grocery store, the post office.

"In case you want to send letters home or anything." He glanced your way slyly, hoping to maybe get some excited response about your friends back home, but you hummed noncommittally and turned your attention to the radio instead.

The rest of the ride to Benny's was spent swatting at each other's hands and bickering as you discussed music. When he mentioned that he had a band, you were awestruck, and Eddie's chest puffed with pride.

"Ok," you nodded appreciatively. "I see it now. The whole alt. metal wannabe rockstar thing. It suits you."

"You're gonna take back the whole wannabe rockstar thing when I write a song about you and it's a chart-topper," he teased.

"What's it gonna be about? My loser neighbor crashed her car, she held me hostage at the...dine-ar." You winced at the bad rhyme, but Eddie thought it was adorable. "Obviously I'm no Shakespeare. Please don't consider that my interview to be your songwriter."

You'd surprised Eddie by ordering an omelet instead of your usual, so Eddie, quick on his feet, ordered your usual instead and surprised you.

"Are you a mind reader? I always get that," you confessed. "I was just so tired last night, I figured I needed something a little more substantial."

Once the food arrived, though, you stared longingly at Eddie's strawberry and whipped cream covered pancakes. He took mercy on you and slid his plate to the middle of the table so you could take a few bites. You mirrored him with your own plate and he snagged a couple of bites of eggy, hammy, cheesy goodness.

You butt heads good-naturedly when it came time to dress up the plate of hash browns that came with your omelet. You wanted to keep it simple with salt and pepper, while he wanted them doused in ketchup. Back and forth, your forks clinked against each other's chosen condiment, over and over, until it was a veritable sword fight over the side dish.

"Stop it Eddie! They're so nice and crispy, don't ruin them."

"It won't ruin them. What are you saying right now? That you just don't like ketchup? You're breaking my heart."

"Some things are meant to be enjoyed in their pure and undisturbed state. Keep your filthy tomato goop away from my potatoes!"

The two of you laughed all the while, and Eddie swore it was the most fun he had outside of Hellfire in...quite some time.

Benny, who was also amused by your antics but not enough to listen to it for the rest of the morning, decided enough was enough and brought another plate of hash browns, "on the house if it'll prevent a food fight," before he retreated back to the kitchen.

The trip to Thatcher Tires was quick, and then the two of you spent the rest of the afternoon outside of your trailer again, chatting away as Eddie changed your oil. You sat on your stoop and doodled in your sketchbook as he regaled you with stories of his friends and his favorite haunts around Hawkins.

Granny had come out at one point to say hello and promised a welcome-to-the-park casserole, but after she left you noticed how he'd gotten a little sad and asked him what was wrong.

Eddie told you about Ronnie then, how much he missed her. How it was like missing a whole...bite had been taken out of his side when she finally left for college.

It felt like the easiest thing in the world--telling you everything and having you listen--because he'd already done it before, so many times. Only now, you were able to respond; he could look over and see you smile or laugh at one anecdote or another. Or offer some advice about your own friends who you missed. You didn't even judge him when he mentioned he was on his second repeat senior year; you just told him about your own story as an almost-drop-out.

You understood. You saw him. Just like he knew you would.

At some point late in the afternoon, as the sky began to take pink and orange hues and people started coming home from work, Eddie reluctantly called an end to your day together.

"I took up all of your time," he admitted bashfully, hands shoved in his pockets. "I'm sure you have a million things to take care of."

"I mean yeah," you shrugged. "But one day won't hurt. And it was a really good day."

"It was."

"Thanks for everything Eds." You immediately made a face and he laughed. "Eds? No. Ed...Eddie. God, sorry, I hate the whole figuring-out-the-nickname thing. So weird. Thanks for everthing Eddie."

"Yeah don't mention it," he chuckled.

It was a real midwest goodbye as you loitered at the bottom of your steps, prolonging both of your departures. A promise to bring over that tape he said he'd let you borrow, or to come share in Granny's proffered casserole when you finally received it.

Then finally, when you were practically in the door of your trailer, you turned around and stared at him, worrying your lip with your teeth as you often did.

"You know, I wasn't the valedictorian or anything, that's my best friend Sam," you shuffled your feet and paused for a minute. "But if you ever need help with homework or anything..."

"Yeah," he agreed a little too quickly, eager to get more time with you. "No, yeah...that sounds...great."

"I'm pretty good at history," you went on. "I have a crazy memory, you wouldn't even realize."

"No that sounds great, I'm, uh...failing history right now, actually," he admitted.

"Perfect! You know where to find me."

"It's a dat--study session!" He caught himself quickly, but not quick enough. He felt the heat building in his cheeks as you covered your mouth in a giggle. "Ignore me. Ignore that. I'm just gonna go...yeah."

And then, it was like in the movies. The angels were singing, birds chirping, the slowly dying sun beamed brightly on you as you opened your mouth and said:

"It can be a date if you want it to be. I had a lot of fun today, so I, uh, think that would be pretty great actually."

It was everything Eddie ever wanted, everything he ever dreamed.

A real date. With the real, very real, definitely not fictional girl of his dreams.

He smiled the biggest smile he ever had, big enough to rival a shark, that's how happy he was.

"It's a date, then."

Next Chapter: Out of Character

There is no taglist for this series, please follow the STFF Updates tag or check the series out on AO3.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #stranger than (fan)fiction #stff #stff updates #Eddie munson fic #stranger things fic

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prettyboysdontlookatexplosions · 2 years

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i guess in the end the thing about katya, to me, is like - there's this kind of obvious straightforward reading of her, right, a cautionary tale about the girl who wanted too much and lost everything, who played her hand too soon and was left holding nothing, all alone. you can read her isolation at the end as a parallel to goncharov's, an expression of the film's warning about what it really means to keep your enemies closer than your friends, and one that lands less satisfyingly than his does because while his storyline feels so deeply engaged with exploring what it means to be a man in this psychologically toxic and physically dangerous subculture of masculinity, hers reads more like a punishment reminiscent of so many sexist stories about ice queens who get their comeuppance. and, like, i get it, especially considering that god knows matteo JWHJ0715's track record on women is uhhhhhhhh.... not great. (has anyone seen hounds in the summer? that movie is like an incredible time capsule of exactly what the fuck susan faludi was talking about in backlash, like pure male neuroses served with an olive. diane keaton is sooooo hot in it though)

something does feel different to me about katya, though. and like yeah part of it is that i'm being generous because i do against all odds (and even with the fucking dinner scene) like this movie. but like - i just have such a hard time believing we're meant to view her as in any way a villain, when she's literally the ONLY person in the entire film who comes close to articulating what the movie is actually about at its core. all of the characters (except maybe poor sofia) have defined themselves around this core lack, this hole inside them where learning to be a person who really sees other people should have gone, this emptiness protected by barbed wire that keeps them trapped. katya's the same, except she's the only one who knows there's something missing. she knows there's something wrong - in her, with gorchanov, in their nightmare world - and like, yeah, she can't articulate it, much less start to imagine a better way, but like, how could she? she's never been given a model for an alternative - she's never even been able to look at how other people might live. (we don't get much about her backstory, but i think the mix of disdain and real sorrow in her voice when she says "that pig" about her father speaks volumes.)

and then it's like, the clock motif, right, this is textbook noir shit barely remix: the hands of fate, the slipping sands. it's always already too late because time is always already running out. (this is like, half of what andrey's entire Deal is imo.) you can't escape destiny; you can't even take the brief respite of forgetting it's there, waiting for you, dragging you down like gravity. but somehow, in this movie that circles back on itself so compulsively it feels at times almost like a song cycling through refrains, in a movie that's about how impossible it is to leave once you've committed to a version of yourself that needs to stay in order to retain coherence - somehow, katya gets out. messily, blusteringly, tragically even. half by accident. with blood on her hands and an ocean of regret that will never wash it out. (i know the bathroom scene is not a lady macbeth reference but... in my heart it is. lmao. katya would totally ask the spirits to unsex her.) but she gets out. and there is ultimately something to me there - the idea that the way out is by knowing you need to get out. that you don't need to know what the road ahead looks like to take the next step forward. that it is a step forward, even if it's not what you wanted or not what you thought. even if you wouldn't have taken it, if you'd known what was coming. but you did, and now you have to live with it, but maybe the important part is that you lived. you're alive, to take another step, and then another.

i keep thinking of that shot of her at the window somewhere late in the movie but not yet near the end, after everything's been set in motion: just katya, watching the city pedestrians below her through the blinds (speaking of classic noir shit). we don't know what she's thinking there, if she's scared or excited, if she's already doubting herself or if she's still sure she can pull this off the way she planned. we're not even in the room with her. she's so isolated in that shot - from the people she knows, from the citizens below, from the viewer watching on the other side of the blinds. but she doesn't look unhappy. she looks calm - almost at peace, if that can be said to apply to anyone in this movie. and, like, obviously she won't be for much longer; things are about to start crumbling, and it's going to hurt. but i like to think that moment of katya watching, waiting, alone and unafraid, suggests that maybe there's a version of herself she can come back to, or forge anew, on the other side of all this. she'll lick her wounds and wonder about what she did wrong, but she'll also pick up the pieces and take another step forward. and like - i just don't think that we have to read that as cold. i think we can just read it as surviving.

#goncharov #again sorry for this i simply CANNOT refuse a bit it's like. a core part of my psychology this is my catnip

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bewarethegrim · 2 years

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Punk Steve but it's my random thoughts and it goes real off topic real fast:

After Nancy breaks up with him, Steve feels lost and untethered. He ends up in a shitty dive bar where a band called "Bad Brains" is playing. In that moment Steve falls in love with the punk scene.

No one there looked like they were trying to fit in, even with each other. The music was fast, loud and angry. He fucking loved it.

It started with a leather jacket. He found it at a thrift store, tired of the polos and khakis. On impulse, he grabs some paint and spikes from a craft store nearby.

He paints two spiked baseball bats on the back, crossing in an X.

One night, bored, he grabs a pair of scissors and cuts his hair. His hair was such a symbol of who he was, who he didn't want to me anymore. He cut the sides down and then shaved them with his razor. He kept the rest long, but he used his Farah Fawcett spray to make it messy instead of perfect.

A lip ring, a nose ring, and eyebrow piercing and rows of ear piercings follow. The only thing he doesn't get are any tattoos.

Billy Hargrove watches these changes from the side with a critical eye, convinced Steve is a poser. It's not until Billy runs into Steve at the Dive bar where Steve first heard Punk that Billy realises that maybe he was wrong. Steve seems to know everyone there, and they all seem to welcome him happily.

Billy tries to awkwardly apologise for beating the shit outta him a few months back, but Steve shrugs him off. He says "I get how it looked, and I can take a beating. But what you did and said to Lucas? That was fucked up."

And Billy wants to curl up in shame. Under all the spikes Steve has the most disappointed mom look.

And Billy knows that Steves right. His anger at Lucas was misplaced with his anger with his dad and his situation.

So Billy stalks up the Lucas at the arcade one day, and stares him down, noting with admiration when the younger boy doesn't back down.

"I'm sorry about that night." He says, stilted. "There are enough racist assholes in Hawkins, my old man included. Shouldn't have to deal with general assholes, too. Just don't let him catch wind of you and Maxine, got it?"

And Lucas looks shocked. But he nods and walks back to his anxious looking group of nerds.

After that, Steve actually approaches Billy. He asks for music recommendations at first, mostly. But that turns into asking if he wanted to come to shows, and just hanging out.

Eventually, Steve meets Robin at Scoops. His piercings are all out now, and his hair is growing out (at his parents insistence.) But he still wears his spiked jacket over his stupid scoops uniform with his black doc martens.

And Billy isn't jealous. He tells Heather that every time she claims he's "sulking" when Steve shows up with his pack of nerds at the pool, Robin often in tow now, too.

And when Billy hits something in the road, his gut instinct is to call Steve. And Steve doesn't laugh like he thought he would, he tells Billy to get back in the car and drive . And Billy listens. He gets his ass back in the slightly busted Camaro and speeds to the Harrington house where he promptly breaks the fuck down because what the fuck did he just see?

And Steve explains it all to him (Billy understands the nail bat now). And just like that Billy is apart of the Hawkins defense squad.

After the mindflayer (his dad is killed in the process, Billy counts that as a major win) he moves into the trailer park, Susan and Max living next door. That Munson kid lives across the road, and so Steve comes to his place more because he has better access to weed and other drugs.

Steve finds it hilarious when Munson introduces himself to Steve. Steve who's piercings are back in, hair recut and dyed bright red in some spots, and eyes lined with black eyeliner from his mom's vanity.

One night, when happily stoned, laying half naked on top of each other, Steve tracing Billy's skull tattoo, he asks Billy to tattoo him.

With the help of Eddie's machine, Steve's first tattoo says pretty boy in a banner underneath a spiked crown. Billy chose it, obviously.

Steve loves it.

#punk steve harrington #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #punk steve au #I lost the plot somewhere along the way #punk steve written by a punk #I love projecting onto steve <3

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piss-pumpkin · 2 months

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🌓 waking nightmares⚡️

(Older) Dipper pines x reader, Douce amere chapter 15 ~3.6k words, masterlist Prev

“Y/n!” Dipper hollered, one hand on the car door, the other on the centre armrest, all for balance. “Did you fucking forget how to drive since this morning?!”

Bill laughed, and it sounded maniacal in your voice. “Maybe!” He said.

Mabel was, maybe for the first time, dead silent. Eyes wide and sitting straight up, she too held into the car door handle for dear life. Don’t hurt them, please.

And you were reeling. If it was possible, given your condition. Bill kept your eyes on the road, at least. It seemed he didn’t have the intention to kill all of you at the current moment, since he had plenty the opportunity.

Bill nearly rammed into the mystery shack when he parked, and Dipper and Mabel sighed in relief when they finally opened the doors. Dipper practically fell out. “Y/n, what the fuck was that?” He asked, shooting you crazy eyes.

…You’re not being subtle with them, you thought tiredly. They know I wouldn’t drive like that. They’ll figure you out.

“The sun was going crazy,” Bill said, stepping out of the car. As he turned you caught a glimpse at Mabel, who was leaning on the trunk for support, shifting her balance from one foot to the other. “I was half blind that whole time.” He gestured at your sunglasses, tapping the sides of them.

Dipper shott you a more than quizzical look, his brow furrowed in exaggerated distain. He leaned down, resting his arms on the car roof and poking his head in the open door. “You know,” he started, rolling his eyes. He seemed to lose the will to fight you, and pushed off the car. “Come on,” he said, gesturing for you to come.

Bill shook your head. “Nah, I gotta get back home,” he said.

Dipper looked disappointed, his face falling slightly, despite your nearly killing him today. You were almost brought to smile by it, his sadness at the thought of you leaving. It was cute. “Okay, text me when you’re coming next,” he said.

Bill, nodded, put it in reverse, and pull out of the driveway. “You’re too sappy, it makes me sick,” Bill said, speeding down the road.

…Fuck you.

“Oh, don’t be so sullen,” He laughed, swerving across the yellow lines. “I like having somebody to talk to.”

A deer jumped in front of the car, and Bill swerved nearly into the ditch. The bottom of the car scraped the dirt as Bill got back on the road.

Wonder if the car is gonna be okay. You watched at the trees melted into the small town scene as you approached your aunts house. Wait a second. Did we just steal Stans car?

“Sure did!” Bill sang.

He’s never letting me take that car again, is he?

”You won’t have to worry about that,” Bill casually hand waved. What? He was coming up on Susan’s house now, and you weren’t trying to think about anything at all.

Luckily she was working. Bill parked messily across the driveway, blocking any other car that could try to pull in. He didn’t bother locking the door behind you, and he tore through the halls walking like marionette doll, bouncing between the walls as he crashed around as if on misguided puppet strings. Ouch. That might hurt later.

“No matter how many time I try it, I’ll never get used to human pain,” Bill laughed, coming to the kitchen. “It’s so neat!” He went through all the cupboards, eating several strange and old foods Susan had in the very back. The standout was a can of maple beans from the fifties. That could hurt later too.

He went through all the drawers, running your fingers over the serrated edges of butter knives and at the prongs of forks. His eyes lingered on a meat cleaver for longer than you’d have liked. But he didn’t grab for it.

He ran your hands under cold water for a minute, then hot, seemingly taking in all the sensations. Your hand was red and tender by the end of it.

When he got to your room, he went through all your things that he hadn’t yet seen through your eyes. All the clothes you hadn’t worn yet, everything on your laptop you hadn’t opened while he was with you. This is excessive.

“I want to know everything I can about my little host body,” he laughed. “And anything here that could kill Pine tree.”

Oh. Kill him? I don’t think I have anything that could do that, you thought dejectedly.

“Better to be sure!” He chirped, scrolling through all your messages, apparently looking for some confession or secret that could destroy your boyfriend. It’s not like I talk shit about him, or something. This is fucking stupid.

“Hey, it’s worth a try,” he said, putting your hands up in the air in defeat. “You seem clean, good for you!”

Fuck off. Bill laughed. The fucker.

He sat on your bed invading your privacy for a while. You hadn’t even realized it was dark out, and had been dark for hours. The mental exhaustion had already blended your brain into mush. But Bill was slowing down. Long blinks that lingered on the dark, sluggish hands as he typed through your documents. “I’m not a fan of this part,” he muttered quietly.

Going to sleep?

“No,” he said, nearly nodding off hunched over.

Please lay down or something, you’ll give me back problems. It’ll just hurt you tomorrow.

He hummed. “You might have a point, little host,” he said, leaning back, laptop still on your legs. He laid your head back on the pillow, and your vision went dark as he closed his eyes.

You could at least move my computer, so you don’t break it. Silence. For once Bill didn’t have a comment, and sluggishly put your laptop on the floor beside the bed.

Hello? You asked, seemingly into the void. No answer. Just dark. Your eyes were still closed. This is probably the closest to being dead that I’ll ever feel. Until the real thing. No sight, just dark, the sensation of laying, but without the ability to move. Yes, this did seem a lot like being dead. Billy? Hello?

To no response again. Okay. Workable, now you could formulate a working theory, take stock of your situation. Maybe he was asleep. If Bill had control of your body, maybe he was subject to its limits. He finally made you pass out. But you’re still awake, as tired as you are. So maybe when he sleeps, the body sleeps? Or he’s in pre-sleep, where the brain is still technically active?

Even if you were alone with your thoughts for the first time in what felt like forever, you still had no idea what to do. Like you were living a puzzle, and you couldn’t seem to find all the pieces.

“I’m still…” Bill muttered, covering your ears. “…Here.”

Shut up and go to bed. Dipper always said Bill made deals by shaking hands. You did shake his hand… sort of. Fuck, that was dumb. Your statue friend Billy, you did shake his hand way back then. That’s when the nightmares started. Fuck he was totally doing that. Could you give him nightmares? You didn’t know how, if it was possible.

”You can’t, little host,” Bill mumbled, waving your hand in the air as best he could.

Bill said something about the shack. The nightmares stopped in the shack. There was something there, you could tell. But your brain was foggy enough to miss the punchline. Fuck, you were exhausted. Even without a body, just mentally, you felt more than dead.

Dipper said that when he was possessed, he was like a ghost out of his body. That’s not what you’re on, clearly. Ugh, it would have been nicer, you’d at least be able to move.

Sleep was odd when you didn’t have a body. You were alone in the universe, completely in the dark, and as exhausted as you felt, there was nothing you could do. Mental tiredness be damned, you were still thinking. Until you weren’t, when the body fell asleep completely, you and Bill were knocked out.

…

Bill was mortified by the human bodies tiredness upon waking, complaining how many years it’s been since he inhabited Ford, and even his body was better at waking up. That’s rather rude. But Bill didn’t think much of it.

If you could have, you would have shuddered as you saw Bill pull out your phone, and text Dipper. Would have froze when he responded right away, and would have died when they made plans to meet in the woods and go on a ‘mystery hunt,’ suggested by Bill. Alone together in the woods. That’s not good.

He laughed, slipping your phone in a pocket and putting on a sweater. “You’re observant!” He chirped, jingling Stan’s car keys. At least he was returning them. “Eh,” he shrugged, not bothering to lock the door behind him. “If I feel like it.” Your sunglasses were all he carried in your back pack. Well shit.

Hmm. Bill drove a little more careful this time, and parked a few blocks away from the shack. Like hiding? Why? He didn’t answer, wordlessly walking to the tree line where Dipper was waiting, slipping the glasses on.

Your lovely boyfriend. Dipper waved happily at Bill as you got close, and wrote a note in his journal. Maybe he was writing all his suspicions and reservations about you, and he already knew you weren’t yourself. Bill snickered as he jogged up to him. It wasn’t that much to hope for, don’t laugh, you thought sadly.

“Hey,” Dipper said, closing the book to devote all his attention. He’s too nice for this. You can’t do this to him. “You said you found something good?” He asked, starting to walk.

Bill smiled, mimicking the way you spoke and moved with precision. He’s been watching a while, huh. Studying. Your hands swung at your sides the way they always did, and your feet hopped over roots with the same spring you always had. The disguise was perfect. “Yes!” Bill proclaimed, walking ahead of him. “It’s a little ways in though, we’ll get there when we get there, I guess.”

He talked like you, laughed like you, held Dippers hand like you did, raising no suspicion at all. You watched like a film how the two of you hiked around, noting and taking photos of all the oddities and silly creatures you found. And you could almost pretend you were in control with how good of a job Bill was doing. Hearing all your thoughts does that, you supposed.

Your camera roll would be cursed with pictures from before Dipper knew. Or his last moments, that he spent with his killer. That thought got a laugh out of Bill. Unfortunately.

He led Dipper through the woods, teasing you with the way to your special clearing, where you first met Bill. That had to be the final destination. Bill laughed under your breath a moment, confirming your suspicions. This dumb fuck was edging you.

Bill laughed, much to Dippers confusion. And he was quick to recover, pointing down the path you’d walked alone before, and down it you could see the sunlight of the clearing. The weather always turned sour when I went there before. Why’s it have to be sunny for you? “Down that way,” Bill said, starting the trail. “We’ve found it!”

Dipper followed, smile on his face as he idly clicked at his pen. “Okay, you’ve led me on enough, what the fuck did you find, Y/n,” he laughed, not a hint of distaste in his voice.

Bill grinned, almost manically, just for you and him. Dipper couldn’t see from behind. “Oh,” he said dramatically, “you’ll see.” You’re a dramatic cunt.

You heard dipper scoff, with a little smile on his lips, you could tell. Even with your back to him. The clearing was growing closer each step. You couldn’t yet see the stature, your little Billy. If Dipper saw it first, maybe he could get away…

Bill shook your head, and stopped just short of the little field. The grass was tall, brushing up against your ankles, and a few daisies poked through the blades. “Okay, it’s here,” Bill said enthusiastically, spinning around to face Dipper. “And I’m gonna have to ask you to close your eyes.”

Dipper raised his brow. “Alright, if this isn’t like, the coolest thing I’ve ever seen I’m gonna be disappointed, you’re hyping this up too much,” he said, shaking his head with a smile. “Fine.”

Dipper closed his eyes. Dude. Come on. Bill snickered, and took Dippers hand, pulling him. “Okay, don’t open your eyes until I tell you, okay?”

You could see the statue, its familiar outstretched hand beckoning you closer. And you could feel Dippers hand too. Too many hands. All around you. Dipper laughed, “yeah, yeah, I get it.”

Bill just smiled and nodded, maybe forgetting that Dipper couldn’t see. He stopped in front of his stone self, smiling down at it happily. Maniacally. Maliciously. Dipper still had his eyes closed as your hand slipped out of his, and suddenly there wasn’t enough hands.

Bill stood behind him, hands on his shoulders. “Okay, don’t open your eyes, but we’re here.”

”Dude, my balls are blue enough,” he snickered. “Can I just see?”

”Wait wait, not yet.” Bill savoured the moment. A gentle breeze ran through Dippers and your hair, a few birds chirped. It was a nice summer day, all things considered. Bill pulled out your phone, and took a selfie with Dipper, the statue, and you behind his back. That’s just cruel.

“I know,” Bill said.

Dipper didn’t know he was talking to you, “What?”

“Okay, you can open them,” Bill said, words cutting through the air like knives. And you had to watch, a little glad you that his back was turned. That way you didn’t have to see his face.

“Alright, here goes nothing,” Dipper laughed. But he stopped fairly quickly, freezing in place. The birds didn’t stop chirping, and you could even hear a few crickets. Dipper was silent enough for a lot of forest sounds to come through. You couldn’t even hear his breathing. If he even was.

He stood for a few beats of your heart, hands frozen at his sides, until you noticed the subtle way his fingers rubbed and scratched at his thumb. Please don’t turn around.

Dipper started to turn around. Very slowly. There was a slight move of his head to the right, and then a stop. And when he started again his hands were fidgeting with his pockets.

Bill, I’ll kill you for this.

You didn’t want to see his face, but it was the first thing to turn. And you couldn’t avert your eyes if you wanted to. Bill wasn’t nice enough to let you look away. Dippers brow was furrowed in concentration, his jaw clenched but lips parted. More confused them anything, at a glance. “Y/n, what-“

And then he saw your face, the way Bill was grinning. And you saw each stage of grief pass on your boyfriends features. He was frozen for a moment, just a single one, and then he stepped back. It was an awkward, shaky step, but it was better than you could do. He grimaced, one hand touching his backpack as if to check it was still there. “Y/n?” He asked, voice laced with concern first, suspicions second. He took another step back, and his foot knocked the statue.

”Nope,” Bill grinned gleefully, shaking your head. He took a step forward, cornering Dipper against the statue. “Try again.”

And then, if you had to guess, is when you’d say Dippers blood ran cold, maybe stopped in his veins, and his heart stopped pumping. His breath caught in his throat, and he tried to step back, but caught on the outstretched hand. “You’re not-“ he said, stumbling to regain balance.

”That’s not a guess.” Fuck you. Fuck you.

”Dude. He’s dead,” Dipper said, starting confident but losing it partway through. “This is kind of fucked up, Y/n, take those off,” he hissed, pointing at your sunglasses. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

Bill stepped closer again, “Will do, Pinetree!” And then he did. He flipped them on top of your head, and it seemed like Dippers heart stopped a second time. He went pale. Your pupils didn’t look right. Suppose that was the giveaway. Isn’t that what he asked you when you first met? That was the telltale sign? Dipper scrambled backwards, putting the statue between him and Bill. Dipper… if you had any control… better not to think about what you would do.

Dippers eyes were wide like that of a prey animal, darting to different holes in the tree line for a potential escape. His voice was too level, giving away too much. Everything he was doing to keep calm, and you knew how panicked he really was. “Where-“ he started, stepping back. “Where’s Y/n?”

Right here, Dip. “Right here, Pine tree,” Bill said, tapping your head. “Been a real complainer this whole time.”

Fuck you. Fuck you.

“W-what?” Dipper said, brow furrowing. He clutched his back, swinging it off his shoulder and digging around in it while he kept his eyes trained on you.

“They’re still here, not in the mindscape or anything,” Bill shrugged. “Y/n, you can say hi if you want, anything you wanna tell him?”

Fuck you. Tell him… what was there to say? I guess that I’m sorry. Yeah. Fuck you. I’ll kill you.

“They say they’re sorry,” Bill laughed, shaking your head. “Among other things.”

“I-“ he started. He quickly lost the track, but pulled his journal out of his bag. Maybe he had a solution in there. “Y/n…”

Yes? I’m right here. Right here. Still here. Bill kept getting closer, side stepping his statue, and giving it a flick on the hat. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Pine tree,” he started as Dipper stumbled back. He was flipping through his journal aggressively, searching desperately for something, anything. Please find it. “And this time you don’t have that memory gun, do ya?”

Please do something. Dipper, please. But you were begging to the void. Bill was done letting you talk, and Dipper was as worlds away. As trapped as you were in your mind, he seemed to be locked in his, frantic and running out of places to go, nearly the edge of the clearing as he kept walking backwards, and Bill kept closing in. If you leave me here you’ll be okay, you wanted to say. Or if you fight me off.

But did he have it in him? There was a thin sheen of sweet on Dippers forehead. He wasn’t finding whatever he was looking for, and Bill was closing fast. And Dippers legs were shaking. And his hands. Please fight me.

And maybe he heard your prayers. Dippers hands clutched the journal with white knuckles, the pages bending under his fingers. Heavy and ragged were his breaths, but his jaw was tight in a sneer and glare. The stance of prey, but the teeth of a predator. Fight or flight. Yes. Yes Dipper. Don’t hesitate.

Suddenly there was hope. A sliver of it, anyway, because Dipper still stumbled back and tripped to the ground when Bill lunged forward. And you were given the Birds Eye view looking over him as he scrambled back, hanging onto his journal like a lifeline. Don’t hesitate. Fight. Choose fight. You could feel Bills grin on your lips.

Dipper held his book to his chest, and with one hand frantically grabbed at the grass behind him, trying to pull himself away.

Bill snickered, and raised his knee. Don’t you fucking hurt him. Don’t you fucking do it. I’ll kill you for this. You’re gonna be dead. If you could, you’d be sobbing blind with rage, it’d stop you from seeing this. Bill stomped down on his wrist, and Dipper winced, groaning in pain.

“You’re not gonna hurt this body, are you,” Bill gloated. Fuck you. Fight him off. I’d forgive you. I’d hate you if you didn’t, you have to know that. Dipper, he’ll kill you. “Only way to get rid of me now is to get rid of them,” he laughed. “And you’re not gonna do that.”

Dipper gritted his teeth, but he had no objections besides a breath sucked in hastily and laced with pain as Bill pressed your foot down harder on his wrist. Just pick fight. Before you get hurt, you pleaded. Appealing to Bill was a scream into the void, but in some sense, Dipper might hear you. Across the universe. Right in front of you. You could practically feel his pulse pounding through your shoe. His hand was starting to blue.

“That’s what I thought,” Bill said smugly, leaning down your head close to his, and you could feel his shaky breath on your face. What, you read fucking yaoi or something? The fuck is this?

The hand clutching the journal was shaking. He tried to clench the hand Bill was suffocating, but all that happened was a twitch of the fingers.

“I’m going to kill you now,” Bill said, raising a hand tediously slowly.

But before it could clamp around his throat, punch his face, dig into his chest, or whatever else Bill had planned, Dippers journal was flying towards your face. Fuck yeah. Fuck yeah. His eyes were wild, but he was doing it. One clean hit to the jaw, and you were out.

I wrote this one while so sick lmao. Ig I did my first proofread while sick too cuz I caught some horrible errors 💀

Anyway I got war flashbacks to dipper x bill shit from the 2010s, can you tell?

Taglist: @dead-esque @cipheress-to-k-pop

#x reader #my writing #dipper pines x reader #douce amere #gravity falls x reader #dipper pines #dipper x reader #gravity falls

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 8 months

Text

The One I've Been Waiting For {Part 04 of 13}

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Older!reader

Word count: 2 K

Summary: Billy Hargrove is just one of the many students you're supposed to help. The last thing you expect from your interaction is that he'll start flirtt with you... Much less that Billy would stir up feelings you'd rather keep hidden. Despite the mutual sentiments that soon enough start to grow, there are a lot of reasons for whatever it is to be left alone, and one of them is your age...

<- Previous part (03)

Next Part (05) ->

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

A/N: In this story, reader is 5 years older than Billy, who's 18.

•••

The Heart and the Mind

Billy's mind is a chaotic place. But this time is for a whole different reason. It's been a while since he got together with a girl, and he doesn't even miss it. He did think about it more than a few times, but every time he considers it... All he can think about is her.

“Billy!” Max suddenly yells, snapping him out of his thoughts. With an angry face, he glances at her.

“What the hell, shitface?”

“What's wrong with you? Why are you acting so weird?” Max asks, and he rolls his eyes, focusing on the road.

“I'm normal.” Shrugging his shoulders, Billy checks his face through the review mirror. There's nothing wrong with him.

“No, you're not. You're more stupid than usual. And less angry.” She goes on, and Billy runs a hand through his head before hanging an arm on the open window. “It looks like you have something in your head.”

“Max, shut the hell up.” He mutters, taking a deep breath. “Care about your own business and leave me alone.”

“Fine, whatever.” She mumbles.

He was just about to lash out at her again when he remembers what (Y/N) said. Billy was never too fond of Max, and he doesn't want her to be one more thing he has to care about. But they were both forced into each other's lives, and she also has to deal with Neil. Of course, she doesn't see the worst side of him, since she's Susan's daughter. But part of Billy, a tiny little part is happy she's not the one being beaten up. Thinking about it now, imagining Neil hitting Max, makes him angry. Furious.

“What about that shitty boyfriend you have?” He asks, eyes on the road.

“What about him?”

“Damn it, Maxine. Is he treating you ok? Because if he ever does anything I'll have to end his miserable life.” He's finally at the Elementary School, stopping the car. “We're family now, it doesn't matter how we feel about it, so if anyone screws up with you, it's my business too.”

“You're going crazy.” She mumbles before opening the door.

“Maybe I am.” He whispers to himself, ignoring how she pushes the door close.

Driving fast, he makes his way to Hawking High School for more endless hours of bullshit. Billy can't take this anymore, not here at least. He was never into school, but back in Cali, at least he was home, in a place he loved. But here, he has nothing.

Nothing but a girl stuck in his head. A girl whose smile is burned in his memory, that he plays back all the time. Billy acts like he doesn't have a heart, but (Y/N) certainly makes him feel as if it's beating again. Maybe for the first time in his life.

—————

You've been quite off the whole morning, not paying attention to anything. Lucky for you, today's class is just about the presentations of last month's projects, and since your group was the first one, you had the privilege of sitting in the back and letting your mind float away from this place.

The thing you don't want to think about is the only thing you think about. Or better said, the person.

Billy has been going through your mind on a daily basis, ever since you last met him when you went to the quarry. You did cross paths with him at school, and he was nice, asking how your day was. With kind eyes and a beautiful smile.

And now, the man has been constantly in your head. Night and day, even though you've been struggling not to. And you like thinking about him. You even miss him, looking down at you with those blue eyes.

“(Y/N),” Tanya calls, and you snap out of your thoughts, noticing that the class is over. “Where are you? You didn't even pay attention to the project's presentation.”

“Yeah, I...” Gathering your stuff, you follow Tanya outside. “I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Nevermind, Tany. It's stupid.”

“Well–”

“How is my beautiful girlfriend doing?” The voice is quickly followed by a sudden hug. Liam has one arm around Tanya and the other around your shoulders. He kisses her before placing a kiss on your cheek. “And my beautiful bestie?” You wrinkle your noise at his word and the high pitched voice he usually uses.

“Your bestie has a boy in her head.” Tanya singsongs, and you roll your eyes. “I have to go to the restroom. Be right back.” Kissing Liam again, she waves at you and walks away.

“So you finally met someone you're interested in?” Liam asks as you move to one of the wooden benches set near the walls.

“Let's sit there.”

The wind is stronger than earlier today, making the tree's branches bend over. The campus is beautiful, and as you sit down, pulling your legs up, you watch as people come and go. The exposed skin of your shoulders makes you feel cold, but you ignore it. You like it here, it's far better than the one in Indianapolis. There's more nature, and the campus is full of trees and bushes, and even a garden on the East side. Things move slower here in Hawkings, but you like it.

“So? Who's this guy?”

“Liam, I need a guy's opinion on something.” Crossing your legs, you turn towards him.

“Bring it on.”

“How would you feel if Tanya was older than you?”

Liam furrows his eyebrows, getting a thoughtful expression for a while. He seems quite surprised by your question. “Well, if was still Tanya, I'd fall for her anyway.” He says, nodding to himself. “I mean, the dynamic would be different. Let's say that by her age she could have children or even an ex-husband. And the years of experience would probably make a gap in between us and if we're from different generations we'd like different things but–”

“Children and ex-husband?” You cut him off, not able to follow up with whatever he's saying.

“Yeah. The probabilities are that she'd at least have one past long-term relationship.”

Closing your eyes for a few seconds to gather your thoughts, you take a deep breath. “Liam, let me rephrase that. What if Tanya was, let's say... Five years older than you?” That's way too specific. “Would you still like her? Or even consider dating her?”

Liam gives you a look, raising one eyebrow. “Here I am, analyzing every aspect and challenge of a relationship with an age gap and you were speaking about five years?” You silently nod. “That's not even a gap. That's just a couple of years, no big deal.”

“It's just that... When the guy is older everyone finds it hot.” You start, looking down at your hands. You shouldn't even be talking about this, since Billy Hargrove isn't even a possibility. But this is just something you need to know, something you need someone else's opinion on. And Liam, being a guy, gives you a better perspective. “But when it's the other way around... People find it weird.”

“(Y/N), age is just a number.” He's still speaking when Tanya comes back, sitting next to him. “Correction. After eighteen, age is just a number. You're both adults and it doesn't matter what people say, only what you feel. And you don't even look your age, people wouldn't even spot the age difference.”

“What makes you think I'm talking about me?” You're quick to defend yourself, stuttering a little.

“Because you were way too specific for this to be a hypothetical situation or about someone else.” Liam exchanges a look with Tanya, who smiles.

“You know you don't have to hide things from us.” She says, reaching out a hand, which you hold. “We're here to help and support you. And if something happens between you and Billy we'll be happy for–”

“Nothing will happen.” Cutting her off, you sigh. “I just needed Liam's opinion on it. I was curious, that's all.”

“Look, the only problem I see with you getting into a relationship with Billy is his reputation.” Tanya starts, and Liam nods. They don't have much contact with Billy, but, like everyone who lives in Hawkins, they heard about him. “He's a bad boy, gets all the girls he wants, and throws them away when he's done. You're not into that kind of thing.”

“You're a hopeless romantic,” Liam adds.

“Exactly. So be careful.”

“I will.” You whisper, running a hand through your hair.

After another class, Tanya drives you to Hawkins High School where you attend this girl, Clarissa. A quick rain came and passed during the time you were with her in the classroom. But by the time you're done, the sun is trying to win over the thick, grey clouds taking over.

You're walking through the halls next to Clarissa, chatting. She's kind, and despite not being that good at Biology, you can see she's trying her best. “I'm way too nervous for this test. I need at least a C.”

“You'll do fine. I can make you a quiz if you want, to help you go over the topics again.” You offer as you move outside, the cold wind making you shiver.

“That would be amazing, thanks!” She cheers, giving you a quick hug before waving and heading to her car.

You go to the public phones since you need Tanya to pick you up. But after calling twice, you're almost giving up.

“Hey.” The sound makes you turn around, putting the phone back in place. Billy smiles, and you can't help but do the same.

“Hi.” You shyly say. “How have you been?” Talking to Billy is different now. You have ideas in your head, ideas you know you shouldn't have. “What are you doing here so late?”

“Basketball game.”

“Did your team win?”

“Of course.”

“That's great.” Taking the phone again, you try calling one more time. But she doesn't answer. “Shit.”

“Something wrong?”

“No, it's just–” Putting the phone back, you start walking, bracing yourself. “–Tanya was supposed to come for me but her telephone must be broken again.”

“Here,” Billy says, and when you look at him, you find the guy taking off his jacket.

“No, you don't have to–” He's already handing it over to you. “I'm alright, really.”

He doesn't say anything, and when it takes too long for you to move, Billy puts the jacket around your shoulders. You're immediately surrounded by warmth, and also his scent. It's familiar now, even though you don't spend too much time around him. But it makes you feel... Odd. In a good way.

“Thanks.” You whisper, stepping back and clearing your throat. “I gotta go now. Before the rain catches me.” With a little wave, you start walking again.

But Billy is quick to grab your arm, gently. “Do you really think I'll let you walk home with a storm coming?” As if to make his point clear, a distant thunder echoes.

“Billy...” You don't want to go with him. Being around Billy is dangerous, it brings out feelings you don't understand. Feelings you don't want to think about.

“(Y/N), C'mon. It's just a ride home.” The grip on your arm slips until he's holding your hand. It sends some kind of wave through your arm, like electricity.

You're moving before you notice, following him.

“Hey, Billy boy!” Someone shouts, and you give the guy a quick look before going for the passenger door. “Saturday at my place! It's gonna be wild, don't forget.”

“I won't.” He answers as you get inside, putting the seatbelt on. Billy is quick to settle down, turning the ignition. “Party on Saturday. Wanna come?”

“I can't. My group will come to my place to work on some papers.”

“Is it true or you just don't wanna go out with me?” Billy hits the street, and you struggle to deal with the anxiety. But it doesn't take much until you notice the... Normal speed. A lot different from last time.

“It's true.” You simply say, feeling yourself relaxing.

“So... Does that means you'd go out with me some other time?” Billy glances at you, and you feel your cheeks blushing.

You're supposed to say no immediately, make it clear this is just a ride home. That you're just... Friends. But why didn't the words come out? It would be so much easier... “Billy, you know we-”

“Mhmm, the age thing.” He cuts you off, a smirk in his voice. “Why don't you do the most simple thing?”

“Which is?”

“Ask if I care about it.” He's already staring when you look at him.

“Eyes on the road.” You warn him, and he smiles before complying. It's getting hard to deal with all this. Billy doesn't get out of your head, and you were hoping whatever this is, it would fade away. That time would help. But here you are again, with him, and all the walls separating between you are crumbling down... And you like it. You want to take them all down. But you are a thinker, and you're scared. None of the guys you were interested in before made you feel this way. But why now? Why Billy?

You just want to get home and stay the hell away from him and all the feelings he causes.

“Alright, Princess.” He sighs.

“Don't call me that.”

“Why not?”

“Well, do you?” You burst out, almost involuntary. Your heart and mind are at war, and both want to win.

Billy smiles, slowing down for the red light until he stops completely. Then, he looks at you, those blue eyes almost hypnotizing you. They're powerful... Or are you the one who's too weak?

“You're the only girl I ever met that I really want to know.” He says, voice low and deep, sending shivers down your spine. “So no. I don't give a damn about your age, Princess.”

You're frozen, still looking at him when someone blasts the horn, and you snap out, seeing that the light is green. “Some other time then... Maybe.” You whisper, clearing your throat and running a hand through your hair.

Your heart is beating fast, cheerful to know how he feels about it. But your mind... It tells you otherwise.

@aunicornmademedoit @alexa4040 @goth-cowgirl-03 @nyctophilic0vitnir @minispice-1

#stranger things imagine #imagine stranger things #billy hargrove imagine #imagine billy hargrove #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #billy hargrove #billy stranger things imagine #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove fanfic

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thissortofsorcery · 1 year

Text

Set in a handwavey December in 1985 where Starcourt happened a little bit differently, and Billy wasn’t flayed, and he’s been dating Steve for a while.

When Billy rolled into town in 84, he was a Junior in High School, and Steve was a Senior. Now Billy’s the senior, and he’s up to his eyeballs in finals, and Steve is always working or with Robin, and Billy hasn’t seen him all week.

This shouldn’t suck so much.

It’s not like they’re in this new couple phase and they’re clinging to each other all the time. Between Steve’s job and Billy’s school and his part-time gig at Joe’s garage to help Susan around the house, they’re used to going a couple days without seeing each other. But it’s been a whole six days of I have a shift tonight, or I have a test tomorrow, or Robin needs a ride back from the dentist, can we do tomorrow instead?

Billy hasn’t gone so long without getting off since he and Steve first started hooking up.

But today might be his lucky day, Billy thinks, because it’s Friday, and his next final is on Tuesday, and it’s English so he doesn’t need that high a grade anyway, and he’d definitely take that hit for a blowjob. A weekend of blowjobs.

God, he hasn’t touched Steve in a week.

He drives Max and himself home after school, Hawkins made of gray skies and gray slush on the sides of the road, and Billy cranks up the music before leaving the parking lot. He glares at Nancy Wheeler making cow eyes at Byers on the way out for good measure. He takes a cig out of his pack with one hand.

“What’s up with you?” Max squints at him from the passenger seat.

“Nothing,” Billy grunts past the cigarette hanging from his mouth. “‘m fine”

“You’ve been grumpy all week”, Max says, doing that thing where she thinks she’s the world’s smartest fourteen-year-old just because she faced off a couple monsters. “It’s like you’re moping so hard you can’t remember you’re an asshole.”

Billy’s glaring so hard out of the windshield it takes him a moment to come up with an answer.

“Maybe you just finally stopped being a little bitch about it,” He gripes, and he hears Max scoff.

“That was weak,” She says, and Billy misses the days when he instilled fear into the hearts of preteens. “And you didn’t even notice my feet are on the dashboard.”

Billy glances at Max out the corner of his eye and does a double take when he sees the little brat has inched down on her seat to plant the soles of her dirty converse directly on his dash.

Billy narrows his eyes at her. She taps her fucking feet, eyebrows raised on a dare.

One hand on the wheel, Billy lunges across the console to grab at one of her ankles and yank it down, and Max releases an unholy shriek when he only succeeds on sending her halfway into the footwell. He narrowly dodges a kick to the shoulder.

Somehow, they get home in one piece. He parks the car on the curb but doesn’t turn the engine off.

“Out,” He barks, and Max just fucking squints at him again.

Then her eyes widen and she gives him a sly little grin that doesn’t suit her because she’s ten years old,

“Oooooh,” She says. “Are you going to see Steve?”

“Get out, Maxine!” He yells, and leans over her to push her door open.

“Were you moping because of Steeeeeve all week?” She teases, delighted. “Did you miss him?”

Billy pushes her face away and Max cackles. Next time she so much thinks about Sinclair he’s going to give her so much shit. Billy grabs her backpack and tosses it on the sidewalk.

“Fuck off, Max!”

Max finally follows her backpack out, and cackles all the way inside the house.

The Camaro’s engine purrs when he pulls off the curb.

Billy’s first thought when he arrives at Family Video is since when there are so many people living in Hawkins? because there are no parking spaces around the store. He ends up parking almost a full block away.

When he gets out of car, he’s almost bouncing on his toes. All he can think of is Steve Steve Steve. Steve and his dumb Family Video vest, Steve and his warm brown eyes, Steve and the way he ducks his head to hide his smile when Billy makes a dirty joke.

Billy can hang around the store for a couple hours until Steve’s shift ends, follow him home after, make sure he doesn’t have any plans that don’t involve Billy and being naked. If he plays his cards right, he can convince Steve to make use of the back room if the store is empty enough.

So of course, when Billy gets there, the store is fucking packed. It’s a Friday in the middle of December. Everyone in Hawkins is looking to rent a movie and spend a cozy night in. There’s nothing else to do.

Robin is running the floor, ruthlessly criticizing the costumer’s taste in movies as they move around the shelves, and Steve is manning the register, hands moving quickly and efficiently even as he looks a little frazzled, stress beginning to show in the dip of his eyebrows.

Robin notices him first.

“Billy!” She says loudly, and Steve’s head snaps up from where he’s counting out change.

Steve’s brow smooths out and his face splits into a grin, forgetting the costumer entirely, and for a second it’s just them in the store.

Billy’s still not quite used to having someone look so happy to see him every time he walks into a room.

“What kind of movie are you looking for on this cold Friday afternoon?” Robin sidles up to him, shit eating grin on her face. Billy reluctantly looks away from Steve. “Something romantic maybe? Got a hot date?”

Billy leans against a shelf, turning his back to the register, and gives her a smirk of his own.

“That depends, Buckley,” He leans in close. “Know anyone who’s available?”

Robin’s got a look on her face like she’s trying not to laugh, and she looks back towards the counter. When Billy looks over his shoulder, Steve’s eyes are fully on his ass, costumer forgotten. Billy shifts his hips just to watch Steve’s breath hitch.

Robin starts laughing, and Steve’s eyes snap to her, then to Billy’s, and his cheeks blush a dusty pink, just the way Billy likes it. He clears his throat and turns back to the costumer, fumbling the change.

“I don’t know, Hargrove,” Robin is saying, and Billy turns back. “I might know about someone who’s been bitching about being too busy to see their boyfriend all week.”

“You don’t say,” He drawls, making his voice sound more smug than he feels. Maybe it should be obvious to him that Steve misses him, but it isn’t. It still kind of feels like a miracle.

Before Robin can tell him whatever dirt she’s got on Steve, a lady with short hair clears her throat behind Robin and whisks her away to help her find a movie. Billy sighs, aggravated, and wishes for a cigarette, but he figures that’s the quickest way to get himself kicked out, because Keith’s actually in today and he’s a bitch.

Billy makes a beeline for the counter through the throng of costumers, and reaches Steve just as a teenager is walking away.

“Princess,” Billy starts, just for the joy of watching Steve roll his eyes, “busy shift?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Steve leans his elbows on the countertop, still looking a little harassed. Steve’s eyes crinkle when he smiles at Billy, though, and his face comes that much closer to his own, but nowhere near close enough. “How did your calculus test go?”

To be honest, Billy had already forgotten about it.

“Fine,” He says. “I’m more worried about my next one though,” Billy looks down, making like he’s worried.

“Shit, how come?” Steve leans further forward, brow crinkling. His hand inches forward on the counter until his pinky touches Billy’s arm. He looks both concerned and determined, like he'd spend his weekend helping Billy study if he asked.

He’s so fucking sweet.

“Well, it’s only on Tuesday, see,” Billy says, and he lets his face smooth into a smirk. “And it’s real easy. So it looks like I’m free aaaaall weekend…”

Steve's making that one face he makes when he's about to call Billy an asshole, but he thinks Billy's being funny about it, when eight people swarm the register at the same time. Steve startles back from him, face molded to that costumer service mask, and Billy moves out of the way so he can start ringing up costumers. He drifts off to the side, sticking close to the counter, willing to wait out the line so he can keep talking to Steve. He tries to look more casual than he feels, and starts poking at the stuff that's on the counter for something to do with his hands.

After ten, fifteen minutes, it looks like the store's not getting any less empty. The line at the register is smaller, but every now and then someone new gets in. Steve keeps shooting him little smiles, and Billy knows Steve wants to talk to him, but he can't help but feel he's stressing his boyfriend out. As much as Billy likes occupying space, he doesn't like feeling like he's in the way.

"Hey," Billy leans back on the counter, while Steve's typing something on the computer. The lady in line couldn't glare at him harder if he actually kicked her. "What time do you get off work today?"

"Uh," Steve stutters, and looks away from the computer. He blinks a few times. "Seven. I'm closing today."

"I'll bring the beer at eight," Billy says. "You can order pizza or whatever."

Billy hates that he can't be more explicit about it. Hates that he can't say let's meet at your place tonight, babe in front of Family Video's costumers, or anybody in Hawkins except maybe two or three people.

Steve gets it, though, and nods at him with a grin even as the woman in line clears her throat obnoxiously.

"Yeah, great. Double sausage, right?"

Motherfucker.

"You got it, Harrington," Billy says, half choking on a laugh. "See you later."

Outside, he laughs all the way to the car.

On the drive to Steve's, it takes Billy everything he has not to speed all the way there. The streets are empty, but the weather isn't great, and Billy still hates driving in the snow. The last thing he needs is to not get to Steve.

He tries to distract himself by imagining what he's gonna do when he gets there. All he knows is that he wants Steve - needs him. Wants to drop to his knees as soon as Steve opens the door, wants to bury his face in Steve's crotch and smell the musk of him, feel his cock hard against his cheek, lick at him through rough denim. Billy's already half-hard in his jeans just thinking about the sounds Steve's going to make, little gasps as his hips roll onto Billy's face, begging him to open his zipper, to do something. Billy wants to hold him there, hands on his hips, Steve's hands buried in his hair.

He has to adjust himself in his pants more than once.

When he finally gets to Steve's house, there's light pouring out the front windows, and the porch lights are on too. Steve's waiting for him.

The way Steve leans on the doorway with one hand after he opens the door - hair touched up, smile crooked, hip cocked to the side just so, attitude screaming King Steve - might’ve fooled Billy if Steve hadn’t yanked the door open before he had even finished knocking.

“Got the beer?” Steve says, all smooth, eyes half lidded. He’s putting on a show. Billy’s cock twitches, fills.

Billy lifts the six pack he brought, crowding Steve at the doorway. He can’t resist.

“Yep. Got the sausage?”

Steve looks like he’s going to go along with it, he tries to keep the sultry face on, but soon enough he breaks down laughing. Steve winds his arms around Billy’s waist and hides his laughter in Billy’s shoulder, and he can feel Steve’s shoulders shaking, his breath warming Billy’s neck in quick huffs. Billy drops the six pack on the side table beside the door and wraps his arms around Steve, smiles into his hair and just. Breathes him in.

Steve smells like soap and hairspray, like he showered after work, got dressed up and did his hair just for Billy. Billy’s fingers dig into Steve’s shoulder blades, his other hand goes to card through the hair at the base of Steve’s head. Billy closes his eyes. He loves this, loves the feeling of Steve all over him, happy, giddy. Loves that he made him laugh.

It’s been a whole week.

“Fucking sausage,” Steve mumbles against Billy’s shoulder, smile warm on Billy’s skin. “I got pepperoni, by the way.”

“It was your stupid joke,” Billy grumbles, leading them past the doorway. He kicks the door closed.

Steve doesn’t let him go, and Billy’s content to let Steve’s warmth sink into his skin. His sweater is soft where Billy’s cheek rests against it.

“Missed you,” Steve kisses the words into his skin, making his way up Billy’s neck.

Billy hums when he feels Steve’s fingers pull at the back of his shirt, dip into the waistband of his jeans, and turns his head to catch Steve’s lips. Billy closes the hand in Steve’s hair into a fist and he moans, and Billy licks into his mouth, finds his tongue and curls his own around it.

The only sound in the house is their panting into each other’s mouths, the smacking of their lips together, the moan that escapes Billy’s throat when Steve bites Billy’s bottom lip and pulls.

“Steve,” He pants, chasing Steve’s mouth with a kiss, two. “Steve.”

Steve takes a step back and Billy follows immediately, step by step until Steve’s leading them to the living room, to the couch, and falling back against it. His hair is splayed all around his head on the couch cushion, and Billy can’t help but run his hand through it once he lies on top of Steve, presses his weight down on him chest to hip.

They kiss on the couch for what seems like hours, unhurriedly, basking on the feeling of each other’s skin, each other’s scents, until Billy’s settled contentedly with his head on Steve’s chest, eyes half-lidded with the feeling of Steve’s fingers in his hair.

“I was thinking,” Steve says softly, breaking their comfortable silence. “It’s like, December, right.”

Billy just hums in response.

“So it’s like, two months until we’ve been together a year,” He continues, and Billy breathes in sharply.

It’s hard to believe they’ve already been together for ten months. Sometimes it feels like it’s something brand new, and other times it feels like Billy never knew anything other than the steadiness of having Steve Harrington by his side.

Billy lifts his head to look at Steve, leans his chin on his chest. Steve’s smiling at him.

“Yeah?” Billy says, prompting Steve to go on.

“I was thinking we could go on a trip,” He says. “Take a weekend and go to, like, Chicago or something. Or if you want to wait until spring break we can go somewhere farther away,” Steve’s eyes look soft, so soft, when he says, “like California.”

Billy can’t look away from him. From Steve’s stupid, dumb face that’s put up with Billy’s shit for ten months and is planning to go for a full year, more even, and wants to take him to California to celebrate it.

Billy leans forward to kiss him again.

“Yeah,” He says, voice soft, “ I’d like that.”

#Harringrove #billy x steve #Billy Hargrove #Steve Harrington #mine #harringrove fic #rated t #max mayfield #billy and max

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ryttu3k · 21 days

Text

Thoughts on Space Babies and The Devil's Chord, in no particular order:

So we agree that the overarching storyline for this season is stories becoming real, yeah? Starts with invoking folklore at the end of the universe, is solidified with the Toymaker and his rules of play, used heavily in The Church on Ruby Road, and now children's fairytales and musicals? Fascinated to see where this is going!

Generally ridiculously camp and bonkers and you know what, I goddamn missed that. It had whimsy. It had space babies and musical battles! It was fun and ridiculous and just. Felt good, man.

And it also had far-future dystopias and reproductive horror and slow starvation and suffocation and refugees and a timeline of depression and nuclear winter simply to create the universe's biggest aeolian harp so, you know. Doctor Who is back, baby!

Space Babies

Okay the episode was pretty fun and, at times, sweet (they saved the monster!) but oy the CGI/voice acting for the babies was… not great XD;;

Rani reference!

RTD detractors: "Ew, fart jokes with the Slitheen, so immature." RTD, writing an elaborate snot joke that ends with a colossal projectile shart: "Watch this :D"

Okay yes the projectile shart to get the space station moving is one thing, but, uh. How is it going to stop? XD;;

The nanny filter made me giggle each time.

I actually had to go back and check because I was squinting at the readout trying to work out what's weird and somehow failed a spot check and missed the fact that it had started snowing. Good observational skills, self. Anyway, the snow is definitely a Message. (Is it snow? Like I agree that it's connected with the day Ruby was born, but is what's falling in the church scene snow to begin with?)

Do you. Do you think the butterfly can regenerate now.

The Devil's Chord

Oooh, a Pantheon! Love a Pantheon. There's mention of the One Who Waits, speculation on whether 'the Oldest One' was there the day Ruby was born, we already have the Toymaker -> Maestro line, so maybe we'll be getting others? Also, the way Maestro phrased something earlier was fascinating too - "the Lord Temporal who sealed my father in salt". The Lord Temporal. There's been a lot of references to how the Doctor isn't just a Time Lord, maybe they're part of the Pantheon too, as the personification of time? Regeneration and Time Lord society all coming from this base primordial being?

Anyway I goddamn adore Maestro.

I wonder if we'll get Susan at the end of this season? (See: last link of this section!)

July 2024? So that's a good six months of travelling unaccounted for! Big Finish just going 👀

Semi-related but Ruby saying she was born in 2004 gave me a Crisis. Rose was 19 in 2005 and born the same year as me. Yeah okay I am good with that! Martha born in either 1986 or 1984, yep, fine, all checks out. But now there's a companion who was born when I was already an adult how is that legal.

"He ripped my soul in two." Oof.

The sonic actually did something sonic!

"I thought it was non-diegetic!!" I have so many questions. The walls are getting thin. Yeah, especially the fourth! (Random thought: Doctor Who official ARG?)

Lennon-McCartney saves the world! (I still like Harrison's stuff better.)

Apparently Murray Gold had a cameo but I have no idea what he looks like so it went completely over my head lmao

Missed opportunity to play The Devil Went Down To Georgia or The Devil's Trill, although we did get Danse Macabre and Rhapsody in Blue (which I put on as soon as the episode finished)!

Fun fact about Danse Macabre: "The solo violin enters playing the tritone, which was known as the diabolus in musica ("the Devil in music") during the Medieval and Baroque eras, consisting of an A and an E♭—in an example of scordatura tuning, the violinist's E string has actually been tuned down to an E♭ to create the dissonant tritone." (People hated it when it premiered. It made them feel anxious. Which is... kind of appropriate.)

There's always a twist at the end~ (I thought it was little H.Arbringer, but who knows?)

#doctor who #dw spoilers

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femmethpipe · 7 months

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Red Water | Harringrove

Prologue: I Gotta Know What’s Inside You

Summary: Billy’s avoided Steve Harrington like the plague since that autumn night of ‘84. He’s given the fucking weirdo and the even weirder fucking kids their space just as Max demanded, and it’s worked for nearly a year.

He’s only got until his graduation until he can fly straight out of Hawkins without so much as looking back, but after leaving his beloved Camaro wrapped around a tree and his father’s hand on his shoulder heavier than ever, Steve Harrington, an alpha he knew he could never have, won’t fix that.

But things are never that simple.

TW: everything

Steve’s been driving with a grip so tight, his knuckles were bone white.

Billy steals a glance over at him at every possible moment. At the taut string that’s pulled the alpha’s shoulders into a defensive line, at the blank ominous stare he’s been giving the road for the past ten minutes as they drive further and further out of town.

It was one of those days where Neil wanted him out of the house. A dreary Sunday afternoon had somehow kept both Susan and Max from venturing out altogether which meant that Billy’s presence had to go, preferably without even stepping into Neil’s line of vision which left him to fend for himself while the temperatures dropped. Something about the cold and unforgiving dying that happens in Midwestern winters has never sat right with Billy, but he’s always been fascinated by it; the way everything dies in an explosion of color then rots on the ground. Overhead, the clouds are an ominous gray and the thunder rolls like a strike every so often.

Steve takes a backroad, one that’s twisting a bit too much for the fragile and flighty feeling in Billy’s head and bones. An Oingo Boingo tape blares way too loud and every nerve inside of the omega’s body is jumping, but he keeps it that way. He should turn the music down and ask Steve where he’s taking them, but he bites his tongue.

They were supposed to meet for their usual routine of the alpha feeding Billy and pretending not to notice any bruises the omega probably acquired over the week, after they’d park and smoke and talk. It was the one lifeline the blond had, his reprieve through a piss poor week and his one chance to relax—or relax as much as Billy could two feet away from Steve Harrington.

The dangerous truth was the omega felt like he could finally let go around him. His warm scent and big soft eyes that held no hint of judgement or betrayal. But today is different and Steve has barely said a word to him. Billy climbed into the car to the familiar and potent scent of aggression, but none obviously directed at him. Just looked him all over for way too many seconds too long, long enough to make Billy hesitate shutting the door. That seemed to bring Steve out of whatever trance he’d been in to ask the omega in a hoarse voice if he was okay. Which he was answered with a smart quip about if Billy looked alright.

Truthfully, the omega knew he looked like hell reheated and it kept his knees drawn so far to the right, his temple throbs from knocking against the window. His back burns with embarrassment that he’s wearing worn jeans with scant holes from his thighs rubbing together and the sweater Steve obviously gave him two weeks ago while the logos on the other boy’s clothes that he rightfully owned were about two tax brackets higher than Billy would ever see in his lifetime. His curls are messily pushed behind his ears and in desperate need of a brush though he should know by now Steve doesn’t give a fuck about that shit, that it wasn’t about that. But the deep need to attempt to look presentable, maybe even attractive didn’t forfeit the omega’s mind.

Fucking pathetic.

Billy knew it was. Finnicking over his looks just like he did that night he took out all his issues and problems on Steve, only now he’s shivering in the alpha’s passenger seat like a cat he found on the side of the road, and trying not to feel the butterflies in his stomach when he catches the brunet looking over at him.

The car is suddenly very still and the omega rips his eyes from the veins on Steve’s hand. They were outside of town, Billy knew that much from how long they’d been driving, but another factor about the shitty Midwest was that it all looked the fucking same. Flattened garbage litters the concrete ground and etiolated weeds jut from the cracks. A few faded yellow parking lines stood out just barely below the wet leaves and the trash that Billy could identify as pieces of red solo cups, Fireball shot bottles, and numerous beer cans. Nothing but towering, dying trees ahead of the dim lights of Steve’s Beamer with the clouds above darkening by the second.

The engine’s steady rumble dies as the alpha twists back the ignition. It kills the radio and plunges them into an uncomfortable silence that fills Billy with a cold dread that could no longer be kept at bay by the blasting heat.

The omega watches the bob of Steve’s adams apple where he swallows thickly. “We need to talk about what the fuck happened, Billy. I can’t keep doing this, I can’t keep—“

Billy’s heart drops to his ass.

The alpha lets out a frustrated growl, one that takes him aback at first, but Billy will be damned before he allows an alpha to know he was intimidated.

“Keep fucking what, Harrington? What the fuck do we need to discuss that requires you to drag me out to the goddamn sticks?” The blond’s teeth bare and he wants Steve to snap his own back; juvenile, volatile, wishing for punishment because anything was better than beat around the bush, prayer circle sympathy.

Steve’s wide eyes stare at him from across the car like Billy was a sheet of glass. Right fucking through him since day fucking one.

Emotions stir under Billy’s skin and much to his dismay, there wasn’t much anger left for him to muster and use to fight his way out of this. It would have been easier that way. Scream in Steve’s face that he’ll kill him if he ever tells anyone Billy Hargrove gets fucked by his own dad after getting the shit stomped out of him. Then maybe slam his car door hard enough to shatter the window as if it would make him feel better.

But he knew it wouldn’t. Billy’s learned that plenty.

The man across from him takes in a deep breath like he’s steadying himself and Billy supposes he is. He wonders what that’s like, thinking before action, being smart enough to not fly off the fucking hinges at the change of an emotion and controlling himself.

I can’t keep doing this. The raw blister of betrayal pangs in his throat. His chest feels concave, unsurprised yet he’s never been accepting of being left behind before. This time wouldn’t be any different despite every emotion in his body swaying Billy like a storm every time he saw the Beamer parked somewhere waiting for him.

The omega had been telling himself to await the day that Steve’s eyes would linger too long somewhere they shouldn’t, that maybe he’d even be sympathetic enough to kiss him on the mouth once or twice, but inevitably he would only be welcome to the backseat in due time. One day, he’d told himself countless times over the past few months, but not today. It was the one thing Billy thought he had a penchant for, knowing when his time was up and his welcome was nearly overstayed. Car rides spent with only music and cigarette smoke between them on long roads and shared milkshakes and hot meals and warm blankets—He’d been almost fooled.

But he would have let him, something like Neil laughed at him every night he’d have the audacity to dream of something more between them. Billy would have let Steve do whatever he pleased if it meant closeness and the absence of the looming dread of loneliness. And let the humiliation afterwards burn as painful as the hurt from the alpha’s perfidy.

Billy’s grin splits in a sardonic smile that mirrors every ounce of his winded and broken pride that could no longer mask his hurt. He huffs in fake amusement and his words fall like feathers in a dead wind rather than cutting like the knives they used to be, “I never fucking asked you for anything, not a goddamn thing.”

A heavy sigh plummets from the brunet and behind his eyes, the omega can tell he’s thinking over everything with the same stubborn resolve he’s always had. It makes Billy dig his nails into his palms.

Placid eyes stare dead ahead into the dying foliage and settling clouds. He shakes his head in denial, “That is not what this is about,” Steve’s eyes dart to his seat then back at Billy with a puppy dog exhaustion that made the omega only more irritated, “Why is it always that with you? Why can’t I just be fucking nice to you without you thinking I’ve got one out for you, or some shit?”

Because that’s how these things work, Billy knew simply.

There wasn’t a way on earth Steve was that clueless as to what they looked like around each other. What people had been saying. What the entire world thought of omegas like Billy Hargrove and what they hung around for.

The omega draws a sharp breath, one that hurts his ribs and burns on the way out, “Jesus fucking Christ,” Billy bites out in a breathy, frustrated mumble before he finds that last string of red, that one remaining vein of gasoline to blow as he lights the match, but even then— “If your charity case work and taking care of unfortunate poor kids isn’t getting your rocks off anymore, maybe you should just take me the fuck home.”

“You don’t get it, Billy, I can’t go back to just fucking watching, I won’t.”

“Watching what?” The blond challenges, fucking spit it out.

“Why won’t you just let me take care of you?”

“What’re you trying to say, Steve?” He whispers the man’s name into the cold air between them.

A year ago, he would have been whatever cheap insult came from Billy’s rolodex first, months ago he would have just been Harrington. And it makes him want to blow his brains out that even just saying some alpha’s name meant so much to him; even worse when he knows that Steve knows that.

God, he always fucking knows.

Pretty boy sticks his nose in business that doesn’t have anything to do with him. Always ready to be someone’s knight in shining armor and even worse, Billy wants exactly that. Without deserving it. Aware there’s some shit even Steve’s heart of gold can’t fix.

He looks ready to say something, but the omega stops him dead in his tracks.

“I won’t suck you off or let you fuck me,” Billy spews like a busted beer can and God, if that’s not a lie. “If that’s— I know you don’t just give a shit. And I know that you know I don’t have anything else to give you. We’re not here for no fucking reason, so you can just say it and we can be on our merry fucking way.”

Because that’s the thing. Wild parties, tight jeans and tight shirts, fast car—Billy’s fucking poor. He’s loose, if anyone off the basketball team and cheer squad have anything to say about it. Steve should be running for the hills before he ends up making a decision he can’t take back.

“It’s not you saying this shit, Billy. I know it’s not.” The alpha’s face is painted in an emotion he doesn’t recognize, but then he’s turning in his seat to get even closer.

“Look at me.” Steve commands and Billy should tell him to fuck off, that he doesn’t take orders from a fucking baby alpha, but he tries.

Looks right at his soft brown hair that reminds Billy of the big redwoods in California when the light hits it just right. Broad shoulders covered in denim and wide, warm palms that didn’t feel like shackles when he’d grab Billy’s wrists. Steve’s scent was so potent in his car; burning wood and spice and smoke that fogged up his brain until he was so confused he thought he was safe.

Steve grabs his hand, so gentle yet his hold firm, and the sudden intensity of the alpha’s eyes meeting his own is too much. His hand is warm, but then again everything about him is.

“If I made you feel that way, that’s sure as hell not why I care about you. I mean, fuck Billy—I don’t just give people my clothes, alright?” Steve’s voice is filled with a desperate exasperation. “I don’t just stay up until the middle of the night driving people around while they try to fall asleep in my backseat, okay?”

A heavy sigh empties from the other man’s chest while lungfuls of the alpha’s scent burn Billy’s like whiskey. He looks just as tired as the omega feels for a second, but then he’s holding him tighter. “I thought my intentions were obvious for a while now.”

Steve lets the words hang in the air and he doesn’t let Billy go. It’s not like he wanted him to.

But he still has to try to pull away and aim his eyes out at the dying wild around them, only the alpha won’t let him go. It makes his heart sing. “Who told you that shit, Billy? Him?”

More and more, the dam of tears building in his eyes readies to spill over. They burn and bite at everything Billy thought he knew about himself. He prepares for the world to end, to stop turning and burn up in fire and ash, but only the patter of rain begins its descent from the clouds against the windshield. His throat is filling with cotton balls, but he’s not going to be hit; nothing is hurting at all. He nods his head and suddenly, the gate busts and the flood comes. But Steve is there.

His touch, his scent and all. Driving Billy crazy because he’s being pulled out of his usual reality of just surviving. Steve is here, making sure he’s safe when no other person has ever done that for him. He’s angry, but not angry at him, for him. And Billy can’t fucking breathe.

“That day, when I knocked on your door—“ Steve wets his lips and the trepidation in his words is almost too much for the omega to take.

“He said that.”

The man across from him appears to chew his words. “Does he hurt you? Does he do that shit to you, Billy?”

There was so much he knew the alpha wanted to say when Steve had unfortunately shadowed the Hargrove residence. Trouble was, Billy was getting closer and closer to baring his heart and fucking soul to him. The shaky lies he’d feed Steve kept burning his tongue every time he’d have to force them out. The anger which bled into exhaustion finally catching up to him like an adrenaline rush wearing off.

Because Billy was tired of the lying. Of trying and failing to keep the voice that Neil drilled in his head from getting too loud; of black and blue skin and blood stained sheets; not really living when being around Steve chases those feelings away and shows him it doesn’t have to be that way. Because Steve is so good and safe. And Billy is a greedy fucking leech for wanting to hand all his life away for someone else to fix.

He shakily nods his head out of distrust of his voice. Something sits at the edge of Billy’s tongue so heavily, he wants to fucking bite it. Shit he’s never said before, never wanted to say out loud or even think of again that he feels he needs to tell Steve. How he’s been running from everything, he wants to stop but he doesn’t think he can stop and how he’ll only bring him down with him in the end.

“He’s been angry for so long.” Billy’s voice is wet. He prefers for all of his words to come out swinging and ready for a fight, but that’s disappeared from him now. He’s too tired. “Even before my mom left.”

“Steve—“ If Billy wasn’t in love before, he was now at the way the alpha hangs onto the omega calling his name.

“I’m so tired of feeling dirty all the time.” The omega admits and suddenly there’s weight just gone. The words of weakness taste acrid like a pill he couldn’t swallow, but it’s gone. “It’s like I can’t get him off of me no matter what.”

Billy takes a breath that feels too big for his chest, but then he takes another at the force of the gasp erupting from his throat when Steve’s safe, steady palms take hold of his face. His eyes are so big, sometimes the omega thinks he might just constantly be in awe. But Steve is looking at him like that even with Billy’s armor stripped and burned away. Fuck, he can’t stop crying.

But there’s something more behind the whirls of dark amber. A shudder pulls through every nerve in the omega’s body. It’s like a match striking how goosebumps erupt on his skin, but this time not from the cold. From the heat in Steve’s gaze that’s pouring into his scent. It’s anger and fury and rage that Billy is all too familiar with.

Not a word is uttered between them. His nostrils were flared and a slight tremble in his shoulders, but he’s holding the omega so gently. Like he’s worth something. But he’s so angry and the omega should be thinking about running. Billy’s heard Steve get pissed off before, both times directed at him before they exchanged blows; then just a scratchy drawl expected of a teenage alpha and the omega practically laughed in his face. Now, the placid look in his eye is the blinding lightning flash before the blood curdling thunder of his growl. Steve sounds like nothing other than a predator closing in on its prey. His scent fogs the car with something Billy can only think of as wrath. Ice runs through the omega’s veins and every bone in his body drops in submission.

Cinnamon. Diesel. Not at him. For him.

A primal noise falls from the omega in a soft whine and for a moment, Billy can see the battle of animal and man quells within Steve. It’s a sound he’s never made before, but it comes so naturally. Since when does Billy Hargrove fucking whine? Since Steve Harrington, apparently.

His touch is hesitant, but he feels so sure. He’s everywhere, blanketing over the omega in a weight that makes him boneless. Steve’s fingers ghost over his cheekbone before his thumb rests over his cupid’s bow. A fine delicateness to Steve’s touches leaves a trail of fluttering goosebumps on his arms and up his spine. Being admired like fine art, something meant to be protected and cherished, it sends a tremble down his body in a wave of emotion. Billy presses into the touch and allows it to spread like a flame.

Steve presses his lips against his thumbnail and Billy fucking shakes. It’s a promise, one that could only end in fucking disaster and pain and loneliness will take the omega again. But it’s getting harder for him to believe that when the alpha is looking at him this way, even when he doesn’t have his usual glamor that serves him well as his armor.

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” The alpha’s hushed tone is intimate, pleading almost as if he were asking for an apology, “I should’ve done it when I saw that fuckin’ bruise on your neck. I can’t let him get away with doing this shit to you.”

Billy can see the anger begin to simmer under his skin once more, so he makes that noise again. It’s soft and high pitched and so unlike everything he’s tried to craft about himself, yet still comes to him like he’s done it for Steve before.

The alpha huffs through his nose again in frustration, this time at himself.

“Maybe there is some fire in you after all.” Billy’s breathy voice is embarrassing, or it should be, but he doesn’t care. Barely crosses his flighty mind.

The fire in the alpha’s eyes dims for a moment and left is a puppy dog where the wolf once was. The omega cooes at how adorable it is.

Steve snaps his canines just an inch away from his face. It’s playful, it’s sending too much fucking dope to his brain that Billy doesn’t know if he can handle. He lets his head dip to the side and the incessant yet delicate press of the alpha’s fangs on his flesh has his head filling with sap. He’s so far fucking gone for this alpha and they haven’t so much as necked yet. A shudder erupts down his back and his cold toes curl in his converse.

“‘Hair is so pretty.” Steve murmurs. Like himself again as he sinks his fingers into the blond curls and holds Billy’s nape.

He’s floating.

tbc

#billy hargrove #harringrove #omega billy hargrove #I love italics can you tell #I watched too much lifetime and twin peaks #s3 doesn’t happen #linebreaks don’t work on my phone so yes you will scroll through it all

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hirik0 · 8 months

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In his shadow

Young Price/Nik | inspired by tweet

Price POV

Jonathan Price Jr. always stands in the gigantic shadow of his father. Coronel John Price Sr. was hard on his soilder and even hader on his only son. Being the best was never good enough and Mrs Price did as her husband told her. It was a shitty childhood filled with the feeling of being unloved, unwanted and to do as you're told. Price and his sisters just followed the rules, the punishment for breaking them was not worth it. They all learned that sooner or later. His older Sister Hannah run away with a significant older man at 17 and never heared of again, his younger sister Susane is struggling with addiction since shes 15 and he was forced to enlist at 18. And all the time he is still in the shadow of his father. If he exalted it is nothing special because he is Coronel Price son if he failed he was told they expected more of Coronel Price son. He could not win. It was the same when he joined the SAS even if he gave 250% its expected from him. He worked himself to the bone and slowly starts to crawl out of the shadow his father is casting over him. First he hated his current CO, but now he's grateful to not get any special treatment anymore. If he performed good he got praise if he performed bad he got criticism like another member of the squad. At the beginning being treated like everyone else felt like being treated worse even if it always was all he ever wanted. He slowly became his own person for the first time in his life things finally start looking good, that's till Nikolai is entering his life. Well Nik fall, literally fall in his life and is a pain in Price ass ever since.

Sergeant John Price is hiding behind some bushes looking out if unwanted visitors are aproaching the target zone. His squad the Hell Hounds under Captain Jones is trying to find some important intel from a weapon dealers house at the Rusian-Polish border. He heard yelling getting louder through the open window from the second floor. Someone is running he hears the person getting closer and closer to the window, foot steps loudly echoing through the hallway, but its a dead end. Who ever is this stupid idiot running for his life jumps out of the window, hoping to land in the thorn bushes under the window. He hears the voice of a young man cursing before a weight is landing on him. His face is pressed against a bunch of rocks and he hears his nose break, the air brutally pressed out of his lungs. "Ah thanks", the young man says in russian when he gets up before dashing over towards the woods, running for his life. Angry screams from the window yelled at the young man Price just stays as still as possible, while blood is running out of his nose. By dumb luck the man who is screaming death threats is not looking down. "This is Bravo-4 looks like some was here before us", Lieutenant MacMiller says over radio. "Please repeat Bravo-4." The gears in Price head are turning, the man that jumped out the window, can he be the thief? "We are to late Bravo-0, the files are gone." It a gamble the angry screaming from the second floor ended a while ago, but that's had not to mean anything, also his job is it to make sure they get out here alive. "This Bravo-7 a few minutes ago a the possible thief run past my position towards the forest.", Price reports keeping some details to himself. "How long ago, Bravo-7?" "3-4 minutes." "Is the road clear?" "Yes Sir." "Go get him Junior. Bravo 3 and 4 also move to the forest" Price hates beeing called Junior but he he's on his feet running behind the assumed thief.

Who ever the guy is he clearly is unexperienced, getting on his track with no problem. The trace of stomped down flowers and farns, pieces of cloths on bushes made Price job easy. And soon he sees the back of them man. He has black hair, that is nearly shoulder long. He's wearing cloths to look like the personel of the arms dealers so he could blend in with out problem, maybe not such a bloddy amateur. Price gets closer and closer and the guy looks over his shoulder giving him a big grin. The look in his eyes seems to challenge him 'catch me if you can'. He can already touch the back of the jacket with his fingertips when the man suddenly takes a hard right, Price is sliding a bit over the floor before he is on course again. His lungs and legs are buring, having trouble to breath with his bleading nose. The Russian is trying to take a hard left but Price is able to ram in him they both fall on the hard forest floor. They tumble for a while, angry Russian and English curses echoing throughthe forest. Price gets a elbow to his face, against his nose, the pain making Price pull back a bit by instinkt. The Russian uses this to crawl away and trying to get on his feet again so Price can to pull him back by his ankle. They roll over the floor fighting each other for a while. During their fight the ear piece falls out of Price ear, so he dint hear the others asking for his postion. Price needs his whole body weight to keep the thief down so he can put the earpiece back in. Price pins the arms over the captives head, sitting on his lower stomach, they are facing each other. Both panting heavily blood running down both their faces. Price now having additional to his broken nose a bleeding eye brow, the Russian had a heavy bleeding lip and will get a big black eye. They angrily stare each other down. "You know normally I get diner first before I let people do this with me", the man says winking at Price. "Usally I do the pinning down, it's a interesting change." Price mouth is dropping open, he is speechless his russian is just good enough to understand what the man said based on context. "Bravo-7 what your status, we are on your track", it sound over the radio but Price is still to shocked to answer. The guy head buds him and against his nose again, but Price grip on him stays strong. "Motherfucker", Price curses in pain. "Who do you work for?", the Russian asks. "Who do you work for?", Price asks back in broken Russian. The Russian thinks a bit trying to figure out his accent. "British, huh?", the Russian states confused Price stays silent.

Bravo-4 is the first to get to them. His Lieutenant claps him on the shoulder as a good job. "Bravo-3 reached Junior and the target, turn right where we split up." "Understood." Price hates beeing called Junior, he is the youngest team member, but thats not why they call him that. They call him Junior because of his fucking father. The Prisoner watches Price reaction intresstet looking for a way to hopefully get out of the mess he got himself into. Even if the young Russian don't have what they look for he still has possibel information they need. They restrain their prisoner waiting for information about exfile. Bravo-3 patches both if them up, getting nearly bitten by their prisoner as a thanks. Besides this the Russian Price asumes is around the same age as him so 28ish. They ignore him way more worried about someone else also tracking their prisinor in this forest. They left so many traces behind a bloddy child could track them down. The silence is tense "This Bravo-0 exfile in 3 hours at point gamma." "Understood Bravo-0, see you there." They would have to walk rather fast to get to point gamma in time, it's the furthest West of the 4 exfile locations. The walk should take them this long and it's not like the prisoner is slowing them down on purpose he simply can't keep up their speed. Even Price struggels to keep up, because breathing his heard with a nose filled with dried blood. But he is to stuborn to be the reason they miss exfile and likely stay the night right in enemy territory. They maybe would have need 2 hours for this way with out him, now they only have half an hour left for still a 4th of the way to go. Bravo-4 throws the young Russian over his shoulder simply because they are faster this way. Angry russian curses are spat at him, but Bravo-4 seems to think they are funny. "I like this one Price, good catch." "Thanks Sir." Price would love if they didn't had to carry him with them. They didn't even check if he even has the documents, at least he will have some sort of useful information. They barely reach exfile on time. They basically throw the prisoner in the helicopter before climbing in themselves. "So that our thief?", Bravo-2 ask curios. "Gave Price a good fight", Bravo-3 sniggers, causing Price to roll his eye and their prisinor to smirk. So he does understand alteat a littel bit English.

#call of duty #nikolai cod #nikprice #nik/price #young nik #young price #john price

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syddsatyrn · 2 years

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Chapter 1⛤ Chapter 2 ⛤Chapter 3⛤ Chapter 4 ⛤Masterlist

⛤Pairing: - Eddie Munson x Metal!FemReader

⛤Warnings: Mentions of death, swearing, smoking, fluff if you squint.

⛤Words: 3.1k

⛤Song: "Heaven" by The Cure

⛤Series Playlist

⛤Summary: With no one left in Hawkins to tend to your little cousin, you step up and rise to the challenge. Time for a new start and a chance to prove to yourself you can be a responsible adult. But Robin left out one little detail, the hot metal head that lives two doors down.

⛤Notes: This series is 18+ Minors scram. I wanted to write something with Max as the readers little cousin. This will be a 3 part series, I hope. I wanna thank @hellfiremunsonn for being my beta reader, you're a legend.

Chapter 1⛤Navigating New Roads

The sun shines through your windshield as you turn the bend, you quickly grab your sunglasses from the center console and put them on. The fresh Indianna air was clean and crisp, nothing like Atlanta. Motley Crue is blaring through the stereo of your Chevrolet El Camino your Dad passed down to you when you graduated. You check the rearview mirror every so often to make sure your U-Haul is still intact. You’ve been driving for 7 hours now, you managed to find a little rundown motel in Glasgow Kentucky last night and was able to get a little bit of sleep.

A large Earthquake hit Hawkins a year ago and your Aunt Susan didn't make it. You and your mom cried and held each other after you heard the news. We knew she was going through hard times after her husband left, Max told me everything. But you’ve always been fond of Susan, she was a sweet lady, all smiles and laughs. It's going to be tough without her bright smile, visits, and homemade baked goods.

It was then your parents agreed you would move to Indiana and live with your cousin and take care of her. It took some time for you to get your affairs in order so, in the meantime, Max has been staying with the Hendersons. When you told your now ex boyfriend about the move, he literally freaked. He was hysterical and begged you to stay, no matter how many conversations you had explaining why it's the right thing to do. It resulted in a nasty break up that really complicated the moving process. Starting new in Hawkins might just be what you need.

You also missed your baby cousin's freckled face so much. You are both practically sisters rather than cousins. Max was in an accident involving the earthquake that landed her in the hospital for quite some time. She was in a coma and you were absolutely devastated by it. It pains you to think about because you wish you had been there to do something, anything to prevent this. You recall one of Max’s friends was visiting and she suddenly woke up. You remember a girl named El approached you in the waiting room. She told you Max was awake, you hugged her and cried so many tears of relief and happiness. While you were at the hospital, you met a girl named Robin and you both hit it off. She promised you that she would look out for her while you're gone.

Max is still recovering with medications to take and schoolwork to catch up on. She needs a schedule and a guiding hand to get her back on track. Luckily, last time you visited you found an affordable apartment not far from town. The landlord was very kind and cut you a deal after you told him your situation. You have been prepping for this move for months now, saving money, packing, . One of Max’s friends, Robin, works next to a record store. Apparently, she knows the owner really well and dropped your name. You came into the store the next day and filled out the application. It didn't take long for a call to come through at the Henderson household, you got the job and you start the week after you arrive.

Everything seemed to be falling into place. You’re feeling confident about this journey and the sudden change in scenery. Maybe the fresh air might do you some good too. You finally see a sign for a gas station and you pull into the entrance and alongside an open gas pump. Getting out and stretching your arms and legs feels so good, you almost can't feel your butt from sitting for so long. The little bell on the top of the door rings as you enter the station. The attendant looked busy so you walked in and headed straight for the coffee counter. After pouring yourself a cup you walk over to the register and give him cash for gas, coffee, and a pack of “Lucky Strike” filtered cigarettes.

As you are pumping gas you take a sip of the hot bitter liquid and take a deep breath. According to your watch, it's almost 8 am. You should reach Hawkins around noon as long as traffic behaves. You put the nozzle back and quickly hop back in your car. Before you get back on the main road, you slip your sunglasses on, light a cigarette, and turn up the stereo.

“So I'm heading out to the highway

I got nothing to lose at all

I'm gonna do it my way

Take a chance before I fall

A chance before I fall!”

----------⛤

When you pulled into the driveway you could see the redhead through the front bay window. Max quickly rushes out the front door with a curly-haired boy with a bright blue cap. “Y/N you made it!” Max cheers and jumps into your arms. You laugh and hug her tight, she almost knocks you over completely. “Hey kid, I missed you so much!” You say and gently set her down. “Who's your friend?” You ask, pointing at the little dude with a wide smile.

“This is Dustin. He’s alright I guess.” Max playfully punches his shoulder.

“It's nice to meet you, Y/N!” Dustin says and you shake his hand. Dustin takes a good look at your outfit, black torn jeans, leather jacket, Iron Maiden t-shirt that you cut into a crop top.

“I like your Jacket! You should really meet my friend Eddie, I have a feeling you guys would get along.”

“Thanks, little dude. Y’know…Robin said the same thing.” You turn to Max, “alright, Max, let's go get your stuff.”

Max beamed and went back into the house and you giggled and followed them inside. You have a nice chat with Claudia, Dustin's mom. She tells you all about how Max is doing in school, what kind of medications she's taking and for what, and even some of her recent achievements. She still has some trouble with mobility but it has gotten so much better, Claudia says it's because she's young, she bounced right back. Dustin helps Max grab her suitcases and bags and leaves them next to your car. You thanked Claudia a million times for taking such good care of her and gave her a warm hug. Max said her goodbyes as well, even though she’ll be seeing the boy at school very soon.

“I’m going to miss you so much, sweet pea!” Claudia says with a hug and a kiss on Max’s cheek. You both wave goodbye and you help Max into the passenger side of the car. You get in and smile at her real big, “I got you a present.” and Max’s eyes get wide.

“No way, you didn’t have to get me anything!”

“Yes way, and I wanted to!” You retort and stick your tongue out. You reach behind her seat and struggle a bit but you manage to pull a brand-new skateboard into the front seat and set it on her lap.

“What!? Y/N! This is Amazing!” Max exclaims and turns it over to reveal the colorful rainbow designs on the underside.

“I heard your last one split and two, your Aunt and I put our wallets together and found this at a skate shop in Atlanta.” You explain and she reaches over the center console and hugs you tight.

“This is totally awesome, thank you so much Y/N” She says.

“Alright, alright,” You laugh, “Are you ready to see our new place?” You ask and Max nods. You turn the stereo back to full blast and pull out of the cul de sac.

----------⛤

You open the front door with your brand-new keys and Max walks inside first. Her backpack slides off her shoulder and onto the floor as she looks around. The living room was attached to the kitchen, with a small hallway leading to two bedrooms and a small bathroom. Robin helped you find some used furniture while you were back in Atlanta. A small couch and a table near the kitchen with two matching chairs. Robin even bought you a phone as a housewarming gift.

“It's not much but it’s ours.” You sigh and Max turns around on her heel.

“I think it’s perfect.” She smiles and you start to head back outside to the car.

“Then it’s settled. Be careful bringing stuff inside, only small things oka–” You barely rounded the corner before you almost collided with a tall figure. You back away quickly, “Shit, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s no big deal, cutie.”

You meet this man's gaze and your heart falls into your stomach. His eyes are like amber pools reflecting the afternoon sunlight. He has long, wavy hair just past his shoulders. He looks like Izzy Stradlin and it's kinda freaking you out.

Max hears his familiar voice, “Munson?”

“In the flesh.” He smiles. “Hey, Red! I didn't know you were moving here?”

“Yeah! This is my cousin, Y/N.”

“Ohh! So you're the cousin everyone keeps talking about.” He simply smiles. “I’m Eddie, I live two doors down.” He holds his hand out and you shyly take it. He brings your hand up to his lips for a quick kiss. A red tint spreads across your face, you’re stunned, everything about him is irresistible. You almost forgot to breathe, god he's so hot.

“The famous Eddie everyone keeps telling me I need to meet.” You say, trying to regain your composure. Max rolled her eyes but couldn't help but smile. She had every intention of setting you two up, she just didn't think it would happen so soon.

“So, are we going to start unloading or are you going to keep staring at him?” Max says, sarcasm in full force.

“Shut up, Max.” You huff as she passes you on her way to the car.

“I should uhh…probably help her.” You say sheepishly.

“Let me know if you need anything, hmm?” He says while lighting a cigarette. “See ya around?”

“Y-yeah, see ya.” You trail off. You feel like you're suddenly under some sort of spell. You took a deep breath and slowly exhaled as you watched him walk away. Black boots, Dio back patch, he was wearing a Metallica T-shirt. The rings on his fingers made you weak, and his lips look so soft.

“Y/N! Hurry up!” Max calls.

“Yeah, yeah I’m comin’! Jeeze!”

Since you were on the ground floor, it made things pretty easy, you were able to move both beds inside by yourself. Max is a trooper and made a huge effort in putting things away. She took frequent breaks and drank lots of water just like you asked. The apartment is starting to look like people actually live here. It's getting late so you ordered a couple of pizzas, cut up the cake and sat across from Max on the floor. You listened to her plans to decorate her bedroom and all her summer adventures. When she mentioned her mom and Billy, her gaze shifted to her hands.

“Hey, Max. I know the wound is still fresh. It's just you and me now. I’ve got your back, you’ve got mine, right?”

“Right.” She agrees with an endearing smile but that smile quickly changes into a mischievous one.

“As long as you don't run away with Eddie and get married!” She mocks and throws a balled-up napkin at your face.

“You are such a brat sometimes!”

----------⛤

The sun peeks through the curtains and you cover your face with a pillow. It feels like forever since you’ve had a good night's sleep. You sigh and roll out of bed, there is no use in going back to sleep when it's so bright in here. You slip on a pair of black shorts under your oversized black t-shirt. You hear a knock at the door, it's 10 am and you’re not expecting anyone. After grabbing a cigarette and a lighter, you groan and shuffle over to the front door. The lock clicks and you swing it open halfway.

To your surprise, it's the hot metal head next door holding two to-go cups of coffee, one in each hand. “Good morning, sweetheart.” His voice was sweet like honey. You realize you look like a hot mess and your face turns bright pink.

“Good morning, Eddie.”

“Figured you might need this after yesterday.” He offers the paper cup and you take it. You take a few steps outside and shut the door behind you, trying not to wake up Max.

You take a sip and all is right in the world. This is exactly what you needed, you haven't bought groceries yet so making coffee this morning wasn't an option. “Thank you, really. You’re my hero.” Eddie flicks his lighter and lights your cigarette for you, a total gentleman. You’re falling for every single one of his tricks but you don't seem to mind. “What are you up to today?”

“Work, but I have a gig tonight at a bar in town.”

“You’re in a band?!”

“Yeah, Corroded Coffin. We play mostly metal, some rock.” He shrugs.

“You are so cool y’know that?”

“Coming from the girl who drives an El Camino like she stole it.” Eddie cocks his head to the side and leans against the wall next to you. He's so much taller than you, and the closer he leans into your space, the redder your face gets. He smells like weed and cologne, mixed with a hint of copper.

“Lemme guess, you’re the lead guitarist.”

“How did you know?”

“Lucky guess.” You shrug.

“So…will you come?” His sweet puppy eyes keep throwing you off and you almost get lost in his dark brown pools, coffee-colored. The sun brings out those amber highlights around his iris again.

“I’ll think about it, Munson.” You answer playfully.

“8 pm at ‘The Hideout’ on 12th and Cedar street.” He says with a boyish grin as he walks back to his Black van parked across the way, he almost trips on a curb when he turns around and you giggle. You put your cigarette out and walk back inside, coffee in hand.

Max is lounging on the couch reading a magazine when you enter. “How did you sleep, kid?”

“Good! I was beat.” She snorts, “How's Eddie?”

“He invited me to see his band tonight. I might go.”

“Like a date?” Max snorts and puts her magazine down.

“I don't know if I would call it that.”

“It totally is.” She retorts with that signature ‘up to no good’ grin.

“It totally isn’t.” You say on your way to the bathroom. You shut the door behind you before you can hear Max’s last words.

“Whatever you say.” Max holds back a laugh and returns to her reading.

You exit the bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around you and sneak back into your bedroom. You pick out some fresh clothes, black shorts, and a Def Leppard shirt. The outfit goes really well with your black Doc-Martens and a few chains around your wrist and neck. You check your standing mirror and spin around. Satisfied with your outfit, you grab your bag and tell Max you’re going into town.

“Want anything?”

"Cherry Coke and something sweet.” She requests.

“You got it. Love you, back soon.” You shut the door behind you and hop in the car. The engine roars and you carefully back out of the parking lot with the empty U-haul trailer. You blast some Iron Maiden as you drive into town. You have a few errands to run, you need to get groceries, drop off the trailer, and rent a few movies for you and Max to watch.

Everything went smoothly, even grocery shopping wasn't so bad. When you saw the bakery across the street you had to check it out. You found a chocolate cake with buttercream icing and you couldn't resist. You pull into the small parking lot next to “Family Video” and check to make sure your cake is seatbelted and secure in the back seat. The little bell on top of the door rang as you opened it, Robin’s face lit up and she practically flew over the counter.

“Y/N! Yes! You’re here!” She gives you a big hug and you squeeze her back. It’s been so long since you’ve seen her and she hasn't changed a bit.

“Hey, Robin! It’s good to see you!” you cheered. Steve steps out from behind the counter and gives you a little wave.

“This is Steve, I’ve told you about him.” Robin gestures towards her taller colleague.

“Ah yes, the famous Steve Harrington, babysitter extraordinaire.” You tease.

“Yeah, uhh something like that.” Steve was caught off guard, he didn't expect you to look so cool. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“Likewise, Max speaks highly of you.”

You chat with them for a bit and update Robin on your progress and how Max is doing. While you're there you pick out a few movies you think Max would enjoy. She likes horror and mystery movies. You settled on “Terror at the Opera”, “The Lost boys” and “Evil Dead”.

You wave goodbye and exit the store, and enter the record shop right next door. You wave at the shop owner and He greets you with a handshake. He tells you quite a bit about your new job, he gives you a nametag and a set of keys since you’ll be on the closing shift. You take a quick look around and notice the wide selection of tapes and records. Band posters and fliers are plastered all over the walls, there are a couple of record players off to the side for customers to listen before they buy. It’s dimly lit and smells a little like dust. This place is certainly your vibe and you’re looking forward to it.

“Maaaax I’m home!” You call out, grocery bags hanging off your arms while you carefully set the cake on the counter. Max hops up from the couch and starts putting things away.

“Whoa! This cake is huge!” Max comments.

“You said you wanted something sweet. It's a housewarming cake.”

Max chuckles and carefully puts it in the refrigerator. She pulls a can of coke from the bottom shelf and cracks it open. You do the same and you both take a seat on the living room floor facing each other.

“Sooo...are you going to that show tonight?”

“Yeah, I think it'll be fun.”

“Is it okay if I hang out at Mike's place?”

“Yeah, sure! What are you guys gonna do?”

“Play video games, watch a movie, I also wanna try out my new board. Oh! And you know Karen’s got the best junk food.”

“Sounds like fun. I can drop you off before I head to the show.” You offer and Max nods.

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kamii-2 · 7 months

Note

Maybe a Curtis sister (younger than Ponyboy) always getting herself into some trouble.

Like idk maybe one day she gets into a fist fight at school and Darry’s gotta come pick her up from school because of it and he’s pissed/disappointed. But turns out she had a good reason for fighting

hi anon, this one is a bit short (i’m so sorry) but i still hope you enjoy!! i’m making this in third person omniscient and curtis sister is her own character

warnings: cussing, punching, blood, crying, yelling (?), homophobia

pairings: darry x curtis sister

genre: angst and fluff

not proofread 💪

so ive decided (with the help on a friend) that curtis sisters name is nova melanie curtis and her nickname is honey, also since this is curtis sister, she is gonna be sodas age bc they’re twins

==================================

nova was at her locker getting stuff for 3rd hour. she was getting ready to shut her locker when someone came up next to her. “hey nova,” the girl said to her. “hey, do i know you?” nova said while squinting slightly. “no, but i know you.” the girl said with a smirk, nova got a bad feeling from this girl. she didn’t know why but she did not want to be by her any longer. she closed her locker and walked to class. the girl followed her, “come back, we need to talk” nova side eyed her and said, “no we dont.” nova started to walk faster, the girl did the same and got in front of her to cut her off.

“cmon nova, just listen to me” she girl insisted, trying to contain a smirk. “what do you want” nova said as she sighed in defeat. “i heard some rumors about you, saying you were a dyke and wanted to know if they were true” nova froze up and her eyes went wide. she didn’t tell anybody about her being gay. i mean she was constantly checking out girls but she didn’t think anybody would notice. “what? no, i’m not gay” nova said trying to act as normal as possible. “well that’s not what susan told me.” the other girl responded. “susan is delusional,” nova said while walking around the girl. “stupid dyke stop walk away from me!” the girl said as she grabbed nova. nova spun around and punched the girl so hard she fell, the girl screamed as novas fist hit her face. nova immediately ran to the bathroom, washing the blood off her knuckles.

—

nova was currently in the office waiting for darry to come pick her up. she was sort of nervous for the outcome of this whole situation, she had no idea how darry would react.

after about 5 more minutes of waiting, darry came and he was angry. he told nova to go to the car and she just knew it was gonna be bad. she went to the car and thought about what she was gonna tell him. she didn’t think the reason she punched a girl so hard she fell and started to bleed was good enough, especially to darry. she thought about she would have to come out to him. she was extremely nervous. darry came out of the school, he was mad. he got in the car and tried to calm himself down before he talked to you, which didn’t work. “why the fuck would you punch someone? now you’re suspended.” darry yelled as he started the car. nova didn’t know what to say, she was scared to tell him why she punched her. she didn’t want to come out.

darry got more and more angry the longer he waited for her to answer. nova sighed and started to speak, “she was messing with me.” nova said in a whisper, she had tears in her eyes. “that is not a good reason to almost break someone’s nose.” darry replied, trying hard to not yell. “yes the fuck it is darry.” nova said slightly raising her voice, darry drove to the side of the road and parked the car. “who the fuck are you talking to like that?” he questioned nova, “you, darry, you! you don’t even know what really happened and you’re yelling at me and expect me to not yell back. please just drive home and we can talk about there.” nova answered, she knew she had to come out to him now. “what’s the fucking full story? i’ll start the car when you tell the story” he said while leaning back on the seat and getting comfortable. “i’ll speak when you start the car and go home” nova replied while leaning back with him and looking him dead in the eyes.

they stayed like that for about 2 minutes before darry gave up and started the car and went home. nova was still nervous, she was thinking of all the ways he could react to her coming out. he could kick her out, hit her, or worse. the rest of the car ride was silent, but darry was still fuming with anger.

once they got home, nova immediately got out and went inside to sit on the couch, she was on the verge of tears. darry walked in a little bit after her, “so, what’s the fully story?” darry said in an angry tone. nova was too scared to speak, if she were to open her mouth then she might cry. “the reason i punched the girl was because she was being homophobic to me, someone told her i was gay and she was calling me a dyke and grabbing me and bothering me.” darry stayed quiet after she said that. darry felt bad for yelling at her and making her feel like she can’t tell him anything.

the longer he didn’t answer, the more closer to crying nova got. “nova, i-i’m so sorry. i’m sorry for making you feel like you can’t tell me anything.” he sat next to nova and hugged her as she cried. “it’s okay darry, it’s not your fault. nobody else knows.” nova said while sniffling. they pulled away and darry was kind of tearing up. “how long am i suspended for?” nova asked while wiping her tears. “a week, and you grounded for a week too.” darry responded, standing up to go in the kitchen. “what?” nova exclaimed.

==================================

i really hope you guys enjoy this!! i’m so sorry it came out so late, but have a good day/night, love you all 💋💋

#the outsiders #darry curtis #ponyboy curtis #sodapop curtis #curtis sister #the curtis brothers #angst with a happy ending

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badpancakelol · 1 year

Text

There are people moving in to the trailer across from him. It shouldn’t come as a surprise — what with the amount of people all across Hawkins who have decided to snap up new houses and better job offers in the shadow of the townspeople’s deaths, but it does. Eddie doesn’t really know why people would willingly come to live here, not if they had any other option, but to each their own, he guesses.

The people moving in are, well, noiseless, he supposes. If it weren’t for the rumble and crunch of gravel that signalled a moving truck, he wouldn’t have noticed that someone had left, that someone had moved in, at all. There isn’t the telltale noises of shouting or fighting or complaining that is usually a mark of the housing situation around him. They’re just… quiet.

Maybe that’s the reason that Wayne all but shoves him out the door, a container of cookies in his hands. They never greeted, did the whole housewarming, welcome to the neighbourhood thing, with any of the other neighbours.

Eddie stalks across the small distance, looking to the small scattered boxes that are littered around the meagre driveway (if you can even call it that). Boxes marked with clothes and kitchen and schoolbooks has him a little interested.

With a swift knock, Eddie waits by the door. The fly screen is rickety in the same way his own is — worn in, never replaced. He thinks that the last time someone came to do repairs was when the old man down the street had complained about his water pressure so much he was causing a stink within the community.

“You’re back earl—”

“Hi.” Eddie says. Looks down towards the little redhead, the child in front of him. There’s something familiar about her that he can’t place. Something that he feels like is probably important. It’s like with Robin all over again — like he’s skipped over a chapter, and is left floundering.

“Hi?” She says.

Right. “I’m your neighbour, just, right over there—” he throws his hand back towards where his trailer is, not even a minute down the road. “Just, ya know, wanted to say hi. We made cookies?”

“Why does that sound like a question?” She sniffs, but takes the container from his outstretched arms. “I’m Max.”

“Eddie Munson, at your service.” He swoops down into an overly exaggerated bow. It feels good to posture around like this, to maybe make a fool of himself every once and a while, because there’s something in Max’s eyes that says that she needs it. She shuffles from leg to leg, antsy in a way that is signalling him to leave.

“Anyway I should—”

“Do you want to—”

Eddie smiles. “Sorry — you go first.”

Max clears her throat, grips the cookie container tighter. “I was wondering if you could help me move some of the boxes in? They’re kind of heavy, and my mum isn’t gonna be back ‘till—”

“Sure,” Eddie says, stops her ramble. “Just the ones out here?”

She nods, and walks down the steps, lifting each box slightly off the ground, or other boxes, to try and see which one is the lightest. Max grabs one that is labelled with her own name, in all capitals, scraggly and scribbled in a way that displays so many more emotions than he can even start to pinpoint.

Eddie looks at the pile around him, sighs. He doesn’t really know why he agreed to help. Or, he does, but he doesn’t want to admit it. Instead, he goes to the box that Max seemed to struggle with the most, labelled Susan which Eddie guesses is her mum. He asks in quiet question where he should put this box, to be directed to the bare room of her mother.

She barely talks throughout it. Max picks up her boxes, sometimes quietly directing Eddie to place something in a room, or asking him to move furniture. It’s easy work, and Max is good company, but still, there’s something there, something off about her.

He tries to fill the trailer with noise, even if it is the sound of his own voice. What’s your favourite song? You excited to go to high school? I like your braid — will you teach me sometime? Eddie knows the look of grief on someone’s face, tries to steer clear of topics he thinks might be the cause.

They do this for a while. Max deciding which box is the weakest, while Eddie takes whichever one is furtherest away from the trailer. He reads through the labels of living room, lights, shoes, and other mundane items, before there is a name that he is familiar with that he is tasked with carrying.

Billy.

His box is lighter than the others that he’s been carrying — light enough for Max to carry. He almost calls out to her to give her this one, to let her take this box while he goes for the ones with more weight, until he sees her face. Guarded and absent, hollow and gaunt, just like Robin’s, and it is then that Eddie realises that this box is heavier than any of the others.

Billy Hargrove is dead.

It is a fact known to many, to all who had watched the announcement video that plagued everyone’s minds. Billy Hargrove is dead, and, while nobody was outwardly happy, it was as if the high school population had collectively sighed a breath of relief. Eddie tries not to think about he had reacted: elated for a second, thinking about everything that he’d done — the people that he’d hurt — and then, as if he had slapped himself, he had felt sick. Because it wasn’t as if he had graduated and moved away. He was dead.

And he had left behind Max.

From there, it doesn’t take much for Eddie to realise why Max and her mum are moving in to the trailer park. He doesn’t speak a word about the box, or about Billy. Eddie doesn’t have any nice stories to tell, anything to say about him that isn’t he was an asshole, he made my friend’s lives a living hell, he beat the shit out of people, and so he doesn’t speak a word. It isn’t meant to be a grand gesture, just common decency, and yet when the box is placed in Max’s room, she gives him a gentle smile that breaks his heart.

Once all the boxes are moved, they have cookies and tea, coffee for Eddie, which makes Max scrunch up her face in disgust. It reminds him of himself for a brief moment, but then it is gone, and he is making his way across the gravel road, into his trailer, and the night has descended.

aka: VACANCY

#steve harrinton #steve x eddie #steveddie #eddie x steve #steve harrington #eddie stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #ao3 #ao3fic

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