#‘loving billy hargrove’ isn’t a thing in his mind | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

undercoveravenger · 7 months

Text

Intoxication

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Male!Reader

Requested: Yes

Request: “love potion mix-up with Billy Hargrove??”

A/N: Happy Spooky Month everyone! Here's the first post for the 2023 Spooky Month event - the next post will be dropping on Tuesday, October 10th. Hope you enjoy!

-----

Things had been strange ever since the arrival of Billy Hargrove and his little sister, Max.

Well, things in Hawkins had been weird for a lot longer than that, especially since you and your best friend Steve had befriended the group of misfit kids that called themselves “the Party”. They’d introduced the two of you to a secret side of Hawkins, where magic and curses and strange creatures ran amok. One of the kids, a girl named Eleven, was able to control objects with her mind and see beyond what was there. Another, Will, was psychic and could connect to other planes of existence. Dustin had a way of knowing how things fit together before anyone else could even guess. Steve’s coworker from Scoops Ahoy, Robin, was a witch. And now, Max and her brother. Werewolves, if what Lucas had told you was to be believed.

But you really couldn’t bring yourself to care much about Billy Hargrove. Not when so much of his life seemed to be spent antagonizing your best friend and trying to disrupt your comfortable station within the school’s hierarchy, seemingly dead set on turning your life upside down. Even at stupid parties like this one, you could hear people chanting Billy’s name while he faced off against Steve in a match of beer pong somewhere deeper in the house while you try to coax the sticker-covered flask away from Robin in the kitchen.

“Robs, babe,” you murmur, sidling up beside her and leaning back against the kitchen island, “I think Vickie likes you already. I know it’s scary to risk rejection, but a love potion isn’t the solution here.”

Robin nods slowly to herself, but her fingers don’t loosen around the metal. “But what if I can’t do it?”

You cock your head, smiling as she meets your eyes. “But isn’t asking her and knowing better than using that and not knowing how she really feels?”

It takes a moment of consideration, but your friend nods, setting the flask on the chipped marble countertop.

“It’s more of an enhancer than-” Robin starts and it’s clear that you’re about to get one of Robin’s infamous lectures on the science of magic when she is cut off by someone snatching the flask from its place in front of the two of you.

“Aww, so sweet of you to have my next drink ready for me,” Billy Hargrove leers at you, unscrewing the cap of the flask even as his usual infuriating smirk slips over his lips, pretty blue eyes fixed on yours in with that intense, holier-than-thou look he always had. Just because he was tall and handsome and had pretty eyes and hair that you kind of want to curl your fingers into and use to pull him closer to shut him up with a kiss, doesn’t mean he could do anything but irritate you by looking at you like he knew something he wasn’t willing to share.

Your heart lurches in your chest as he raises the flask, you know you have to at least try to stop him, especially since Robin seems so stunned you’re not entirely sure she could say anything at all.

“Probably don’t wanna drink that, Hargrove,” you say, reaching out just in time to catch his wrist. “Might end up with something worse than a hangover.”

Billy leans forward against the counter, using his other forearm to prop himself up, raising an eyebrow pointedly as he looks at your hand, holding tight around his wrist, before his eyes shift up to meet yours. “You threatenin’ me?”

A derisive snort escapes you, and you gesture subtly for Robin to make her escape. The last thing you’d want is for Billy to figure out she had anything to do with whatever happens if he’s stubborn enough to drink the potion and start targeting her once it wears off. She catches your hint and mumbles an excuse about finding Steve, disappearing quickly into the crowd.

“Of course not,” you say, releasing him and holding your hands up placatingly. Sure, you didn’t really want to spend longer than necessary around Billy Hargrove, but you wanted to spend time with a pissed off Billy Hargrove even less. “Just think it probably wouldn’t be something you would like, so I was just hoping to get it back,” you reached for it as you spoke, leaning across the island yourself to try to make a grab for the flask.

Billy snatches it away, taking a long gulp from the mouth of the flask, grinning at you all the while. He pulls a face, but doesn’t wince the way one might at the burn of alcohol, but you can see the moment the look in his eyes starts to shift and the realization hits you with all the weight of a semi-truck.

Billy Hargrove had just taken a love potion while looking right at you. Billy Hargrove was about to be convinced that you were the love of his life.

“Well,” you say, eyes flickering around to look anywhere but at Billy, “I should really be going.” You push back upright, swiftly turning to make your way out the back door of the house and starting off down the sidewalk in the direction of your own home before Billy could speak. You don’t make it far before you realize you’re being followed, the scuff of Billy’s worn leather boots giving him away as he trails behind you.

“You’re not as stealthy as you think you are,” you call back over your shoulder, pace remaining steady even as Billy speeds up to walk beside you.

“Wasn’t tryin’ to be,” he drawls, lips quirking up into something softer than his usual sneer. “Just walkin’.”

You study him for a long moment. “Didn’t you drive to the party? Surprised you’d leave your precious Camaro behind.”

“I’ve been drinking,” he shrugs, clearly trying to appear nonchalant. “Drunk driving’s dangerous, y’know.” He’s quiet for a minute and you find yourself almost wondering what he’s thinking.

“You don’t have to walk me home if that’s what this is,” you say, shoving your hands in your pockets and focusing your eyes on the way the lights on the stoplight a few blocks down flicker. “Steve already made me promise to call him when I get home.”

Billy huffs and he almost seems to be pouting when you glance over at him. “Don’t see why you’re with that loser in the first place. ‘s not good enough for you anyway.”

His words shock you enough that your steps falter and you have to turn to face him to see if he’s joking or not. Billy looks more serious than you’ve ever seen him, steely blue eyes fixed firmly on you.

You have to fumble for words for a minute, the first thing you’re able to force out being a weak protest. “Steve’s not a loser!” Then the rest of his words catch up to you, “And he’s just my best friend, anyways.”

Billy seems to brighten at that, a more genuine smile crossing his lips than you’d ever seen before. “So,” he says, moving toward you slowly. The dull orange glow of the streetlights makes his hair shine almost copper and his eyes flash that distinct werewolf silver as he stalks toward you, gently herding you backward until your back is pressed to the brick wall of some long-closed business and Billy’s in front of you, arms caging you in on either side. On any other day, you might’ve felt claustrophobic- trapped and threatened by someone determined to fuck up your life. But today- with that love drunk look in Billy's eyes and that fond grin on his face, you were hesitantly pleased with your position. "If you're not with Harrington," Billy starts, leaning just a bit closer, until you can almost feel the breath of his words against your lips, "Does that mean you're available to go out with me on Friday?"

Part of you is tempted to say yes- to give in to this sweet, intoxicating side of Billy and let this go as far as he wants to take it- but the rest of you knows that what's happening is wrong.

You press a hand to Billy’s chest, pushing him back enough to give yourself some breathing room.

"I would, but this isn't real, Billy." You force yourself to say, "You drank a love potion tonight- this- you don't mean any of this."

Billy laughs then, full and unrestrained and the most genuine you've ever heard him be. "That shit doesn't work on werewolves. Metabolism’s too fast for it to really do much of anything," he says, grin unable to be helped even as his laughter subsides. "And even if it did, the stuff that your buddy whipped up just makes feelings that's already there easier to act on."

You blink, the pressure you'd been using to keep Billy at bay slacking as you think through what he'd said. If he hadn't been affected by Robin’s potion then-

Billy nudges closer, slipping his arms around your middle and tucking his face against the side of your neck. "The reason I was always so shitty to Harrington is that I was jealous," he murmurs softly, and you can feel the way he grins just a little wider as you start to relax against him, "I wanted to have people look at me like they look at him. I wanted to have you look at me like I was him."

You can’t help the way your hands come up to curl around him too, the way your fingers curl into his shirt, or the way you press just a bit closer to him. You can’t help the answering grin from carving its way across your cheeks at the thought of how pleased Billy seems to be at being the center of your attention, but you also can’t stop those few little questions from itching away inside your mind.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” The thought escapes you almost unbidden, before you can second-guess yourself, and you can’t help but keep talking. “Why didn’t you ask me out? Or- or just say hi? Something other than-” you gesture vaguely back in the direction of the party.

The tired sigh that escapes him makes it clear he knows you’re talking about his grudge against Steve and all the drama he’s stirred up for the two of you.

“It’s-” he has to pause and think over his words for a moment before he can continue. “My experience with love is… complicated. My mom died when I was little and my dad- he changed after that. Got mean. Angry.” He swallows hard, pulling away far enough to look at you, to really look at you. “He made it clear that he expected pretty specific behavior from me and anything that didn’t meet that wasn’t… good for me. Liking a guy- well, that was pretty far from what he’d expect.” His hands drop from your sides and he steps back a bit, arms crossing over his chest like he’s trying to distance himself from his thoughts. “So I was rude and sarcastic and I was mean to Harrington because at least that kept me in your peripheral.” He meets your eyes again, bright and open and honest in the orange glow of the streetlights, “But I don’t want to just be in your peripheral anymore.”

With all of what he'd said playing through your mind, finding the right words is proving difficult. "If we’re gonna try this, you've gotta leave Steve alone," you start finally, heart squeezing with more fondness than you're ready to admit as you watch the realization of what you mean starts to sink in and a million-watt smile pulls at Billy’s lips. "And Robin and the kids, too.”

A giddy laugh escapes Billy and he takes your hand in his, tugging you back down the street in the direction the two of you had been walking. “That’s a deal I’d make a thousand times over,” he says, grinning brightly as he walked with you, fingers intertwined with yours, hands swinging easily between the two of you.

Conversation flows easily as the two of you walk and you’re more at peace with Billy now than you could ever remember being with any of your exes, he insists on walking you home no matter how many times you tell him he doesn’t need to.

“Go out with me on Friday?” He says as the two of you stop at the foot of your driveway. “We could go for a picnic or to the drive-in if you want?”

When he’s looking at you like that, you can’t help but agree, quickly finding yourself more and more excited about your pending date.

Billy kisses your hand before he lets go, stepping back as you turn away from him and head for your house.

Billy smiles to himself as he watches you make your way up the driveway, keeping watch until you're safely inside, before turning and heading off in the direction of his own home. No, he knew he'd never have needed that love potion- not when it came to you. Billy Hargrove had been intoxicated by you since the first time he met you and he knows that isn't going to change any time soon.

553 notes · View notes

steddielicious · 9 months

Text

There’s all this discourse on bi Steve that assumes that either Steve has always known or that Eddie was his awakening. But what about a dumbass Steve whose first kiss was with a guy, but he didn’t clue in until much later? In this essay, I will elaborate on…

Steve, who at age eleven is best friends with Tommy and Carol. They’ve come up with a pact to all have their first kisses with each other (Steve and Carol and Tommy and Carol, obviously), but the day before, Steve and Tommy are scared that they’ll be bad kissers and Carol will tell everyone. So the two boys decide to practice ahead of time. Of course, this is where Steve’s reputation as a Casanova starts. He just has this natural ability.

And as years pass, Steve and Tommy never really talk about it; but whenever something new comes up, they always practice before Carol. French kissing and necking and dry humping. They don’t want to blow their loads too early with their first handjobs with her, so it’s only natural that the first hands on their dicks that don’t belong to themselves are each other’s. When they’re fourteen, Tommy and Carol lose their virginity to each other and Steve fucks her right after. But it changes everything, and Carol actually wants to date Tommy. In an exclusive relationship.

Steve starts serial dating, taking first kisses and virginities all over town. None of the girls feel any different from Carol (or Tommy), so when he’s alone with Danny Mahoney in the showers after a swim meet in sophomore year and it turns into making out and sloppy handjobs, Steve doesn’t expect anything more. A mouth is a mouth and a hand is a hand, right? It’s just guys helping each other out. After all, they’re not doing anything really queer, like blowjobs or anal. At some point, Danny admits that he actually is gay. (It doesn’t bother Steve as much as he expects.)

When Steve is a junior, he starts dating Nancy Wheeler and stops fooling around with Danny (and various girls). Even though it doesn’t really count with Danny, something deep inside him tells him it does. So Steve has a proper girlfriend and doesn’t really think about anyone other than her.

And then Jonathan Byers straddles him in an alley and beats the shit out of him for calling him a queer. Steve isn’t a fan of the fists, but as he feels Byers on his hips, the clouds part and it clicks that he’s being a massive hypocrite and asshole. When all is said and done and the demogorgon is defeated, Steve still stays with Nancy. But now he knows. He’ll never tell anyone, but it really doesn’t matter what gender the other person is. Either way, it doesn’t matter. He’s in love with Nancy and they’re going to be together forever.

Months later though, Jonathan is still wary around Steve and can’t quite bring himself to trust him, despite the new camera. And Steve needs to prove that he’s changed, so makes an effort to get to know Jonathan better. And one night in April 1984, when they’re baked out of their minds in the Byers’ backyard, Steve swears that he doesn’t care if Jonathan (or anyone in his family, for that matter) is a queer, because he himself likes guys. Jonathan is the one who puts a name to what Steve is - bisexual. No one really knows what it means, but David Bowie once said that he was, and if Steve has this thing in common with Bowie, it can’t be that bad.

That winter, when Steve is suffering through a broken heart and Danny is back from Berkeley for Christmas, Steve sheepishly admits that he’s actually into guys the same as girls. Danny rolls his eyes and they fuck all winter break long. Steve is eighteen now and really doesn’t have any real friends to hang out with (at least not until he’s comfortable around Jonathan and Nancy being a couple), so he spends a few Saturday nights in spring up in Indy’s gay clubs figuring out what he likes. And he likes it all.

Well, not quite. In May, after a basketball game, Billy Hargrove corners Steve in the locker room and aggressively kisses him. He then threatens to kill him if he tells anyone. Steve believes him of course, because Billy is a fucking psychopath with issues that run a mile deep.

And no, Steve doesn’t have the chance to tell Robin about himself in the Starcourt bathroom, thanks to Dustin and Erica barging in. But once they’ve been released from the hospital, he sneaks in her window that night and tells her that he gets it.

After all, gender is such an arbitrary factor in who’s hot or not, right?

(Robin says no, boys are gross.)

See more in the series at #peak bi experience

Crossposted to AO3 here

#steve harrington #steddielicious writes #bisexual steve harrington #stranger things #steddie headcanon #steddie drabble #steddie #steddie fic #eddie munson #I swear this will eventually tie in to steddie #so I’m leaving the tags #stommy #peak bi experience

520 notes · View notes

madelynraemunson · 3 months

Text

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club series)

strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!reader

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ MDNI

Chapter 016: 86 It, Baby

When they find out about you and Eddie, his cult following of jealous dancers team up to make your life a living hell. How much of it will you be able to tolerate? And how much of it will Eddie actually allow?

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014** , 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020*

* = somewhat smutty chapters ** = smut chapters

word count: 8.1k words

disclaimers — fluff, smut, angst, oral (fem-receiving), pussy worship, office roleplay, fingering, boyfriend!eddie 😍 • bullying, body dysmorphia, body shaming, humiliation, sabotage, profanities, spreading rumors, billy being a narcissistic fuck again

(x)

Chapter 015 recap

"You sure you want to sign up for all of this?"

• • •

From here on out, it's going to be Shy Girl and Eddie... and nothing... NOTHING will ever change your mind or get in the way of that.

“Sugarcoated lies unfolded…”

Chapter 016

♡

“OUT OF THE FUCKING WAY!” Dustin shrieks.

“CORNER!” Mike hollers. “Hot plates coming through!”

“Shit shit shit shit!” This is the third order Lucas has messed up. “Argyle’s gonna kill me. Where the fuck is Eddie?!”

It’s Hellfire’s busiest Tuesday and the owner is nowhere in sight. And neither are you — Hellfire’s number one dancer.

Surely that has to be a coincidence. Because the last thing on your mind while everyone is going crazy looking for Eddie is going crazy in his office, your legs spread out on his desk while riding his tongue, his mouth and fingers penetrating your sensitive clit with calculated strokes and thirst-quenched laps, Eddie’s eyes rolling to the back of his head as he prowls for your release, the remnants of it trickling down the wooden table and soaking all of his nearby paperwork.

…Right?

“Have you seen Eddie?” Nancy demands as she waves her dead curling iron in the air.

“No!”

“Will…have you seen Eddie?” Jonathan asks.

“No!”

Argyle isn’t having any better of a day.

“Ayo, who THE FUCK keeps ringing in the Eddie Special?! We 86’d it an hour ago cuz we’re out of thousand island!”

The frazzled cook shifts his focus back to the grill, wiping sweat away from his forehead in exhaustion. He then bolts to the fryer, ignoring the mountain of tickets piling up on the line.

A few muffled curse words escape his mouth. Goddammit Eddie. Where is that fucker?!

“Eddie?!” Dustin calls out as he’s directed to voicemail.

“Eddie!” Chrissy attempts.

“Eddie?!”

“Eddie!”

“EDDIE!” you moan. “Oh, fuck. Eddie…”

“Thought I told you to call me sir.”

Eddie’s lips hum against the ones between your legs as he devours you, tip of his tongue flicking across your folds before circling inwards, licking…sucking…moaning and spitting as he reels you in for a delicious rotation of all possible combinations.

“My sweet, sweet secretary,” Eddie playfully swoons. “They’re gonna have to wait baby, you taste so good.”

It should come as no surprise that a Dungeon Master like Eddie is obsessed with role-play. Yet it stuns you like it’s the first time, watching him devour you like a starved man in the wild, the heels of his palms anchoring you to his desk by how they hook your thighs in place.

“Love the skirt you wore just for me,” Eddie blubbers. The easy access just does something to him. And the way it hugs your body... Eddie is practically scraping his knees on the floor trying to make you feel good. “Love your sweet pussy. Love everything about you…”

“Ohhh…fuck…” you mewl as the echos of your wet cunt filter the air around you. “Yes, Eddie…”

“You my naughty little secretary?”

“Yes, sir…”

Eddie hums again while you toss your head back, bliss-filled and fucked out, squirming underneath him as your ankles dangle limply at his shoulders. Your pornographic moans that bleed into desperate squeals cause Eddie to subconsciously buck his hips and thrust, eagerly sinking his mouth further into you as he sucks harder on your clit. And just before he can pull down his pants to pound you senseless around his office, another type of pounding awaits for you two at the door.

“EDDIE OPEN THE FUCK UP!” Henderson screeches as he knocks. “Our ass is grass out there, what are you doing?!”

Eddie sighs in anguish, irritibably looking over at the ruckus waiting for him on the other side of that door. "I'll be right back, babe.”

You use this time away from Eddie to gather yourself and your belongings. Since you had been folded up for a while, your legs wobble like jelly when they meet the floor.

You’re a little bummed that you two didn’t meet your goal of Orgasm #5 of the day, but you’re content in knowing that there is always an opportunity to later in the night.

The door swings open abruptly causing you to jolt. Eddie’s back.

“Shy Girl,” he huffs.

“Eds,” you respond.

“I never thought these words would ever come out of my mouth,” Eddie warns you. “But please put your clothes on.”

“Huh?!”

Eddie fills you in on the shitshow that is taking place outside. Hellfire is in desperate need of an extra server, and you are the only one with qualifications that can do it. But as much as you want to help, you are reluctant. It is a huge pay cut on your end if you took that deal.

“I make way more stripping than serving, Eddie,” you frown. “I need to pay the bills.”

“I can give you a cash advance,” Eddie bargains. “A-and even all my tips from the tip-out tonight. We just really need someone, baby. Just this one time, please. Only for today.”

Your man starts towards you with a flirtatious demeanor now, swooping in to grab your hips that he adores oh so much. You bite your lips, trying your best not to cave.

“And…” he lowers his voice huskily. “I’ll be sure to have another kind of tip waiting for you at home…”

You giggle into his chest, laughing at the clever pun that he had up his sleeve. And because he’s so charismatic and convincing, you take him up on the offer.

“Okay, fine,” you agree. “Just this one day.”

When you’re fully clothed again, Eddie hands you a Hellfire baseball tee and apron for you to wear as you switch from dancer to waitress. And after one final look at yourself, you reach to turn the knob of Eddie’s office door to go outside. Someone is already waiting by the foot of it when you pull it open.

Henderson.

Confused, Dustin looks at you. You look at Dustin. Dustin’s eyes wander over to Eddie whose got the most devious smirk on his face. Finally Henderson looks back over at you and sighs, issuing you a “do I even want to know?” type stare.

You clear your throat, attempting to brush off the awkwardness that just took over.

“Well…we going out there or not?”

“Hey. Look over there.”

Your ability to take up space in more forms than one inevitably catches the attention of the other dancers. Justice and Emmy in particular. The two watch as you strut around Hellfire with the club t-shirt on instead of the Nothing that they’re used to, ordering the younger gentlemen of Hellfire around like you were the shift lead.

“Lucas stay back here and help Argyle cook the food,” you instruct. “I will run it out. Mike, you start bussing and sweeping so the area looks nice. Dustin, I need you to make set-ups. Will, I need you up front as host and cashier. Someone needs to be at the front at all times. When everything is less crazy, we can all assume our usual positions. Right now it’s just DAMAGE CONTROL.”

Hellfire is not like a standard sit-down restaurant... for obvious reasons. However, the foundation remains the same. Everyone has a lane. They need to stay in it.

The boys are more than receptive to your instructions and follow through almost immediately. Eddie observes as it all goes down. He beams at you in awe, fantasizing about the situation because it's all his mind knows when it comes down to you.

“It’s like she’s leading them into battle…" he sighs breathlessly. "She’s so hot.”

“HOT!” Argyle screams as he dishes an appetizer onto the line. “Someone throw some chives on there for me, yeah?”

Just when you're about to crash, Steve and Max make their way inside the club, clearly worn out from their shift at Newby's, and stunned by the turnout for Hellfire at the beginning of the week.

“Holy shit, why are men so horny on a Tuesday?” Max exclaims.

She hands you your coffee that she made for you herself.

“This drink’s called The Pollywog. Dark and earthy, should do the trick.”

“Coffee does for me what crack cocaine would do for others,” you remark. “Thanks sis, I owe you.”

You pan your gaze over to Steve, because you know that he and Max usually like to order food and sit around for a bit before he drives her home.

“Uh, just two waters,” Steve mutters. “Max and I will order when you guys are less slammed.”

You smile at him, resting a grateful hand atop his shoulder. “‘ppreciate it, Stevie.”

The strippers eye you. Again, intently. You’re close with his roommate too? Little do they know you were also fucking his roommate for a short period of time.

This goes deeper than any of them thought. You and Eddie must be exclusive. And to them, it seems like you’re getting special treatment, fucking your way up to the top like a certain woman once did.

“Looks like we might have another Isabelle on our hands.”

“Look at her walking around like she owns the place.”

“She thinks she can take over Hellfire because she’s fucking Eddie huh?”

“I mean why wouldn’t she? She’s also friends with Chrissy. Birds of a feather.”

𓆩♡𓆪

It feels like you’re submerged underwater judging by the increase of pressure in the room.

The dressing room is eerily quiet. Everyone is whispering instead of the usual singing and shouting. Your intuition senses that people are staring... almost in a way that makes you feel like an art display, or that you have food in your teeth. The only ones who are still acting normal are Chrissy and Nina, while the girls you usually joke around with at their respective vanities have gone radio silent.

Just then, there's a knock on the door.

“Hi my beautiful girls,” Eddie coos as he makes his way into the dressing room.

He keeps his eyes covered until everyone says it’s okay.

“Quite the lunch shift huh?”

“You have no idea, Eds,” Nina sighs. "But it sure as hell paid off."

"Yeah, Eddie," Chrissy agrees. "We all got tipped so well, your tip-out is probably astounding too!"

Speaking of which...

"Just what I came here for," Eddie points a finger gun at you before unveiling to you a huge wad of cash. “Here are my lunch tips, like I promised.” You reluctantly take it from Eddie as he ruffles your hair endearingly.

Eddie's first mistake was not only making you the center of attention, but giving his tips to you — on top of the tips you already had from serving — in front of the other girls. In a way, those were their tips. They only became his, well, yours now, because of the tip-out policy.

Now they're really annoyed. The girls who have you on their radar wait until Eddie leaves to approach you. And when they do you're almost taken aback.

“You’re starting to do a lot of the positions,” Emmy observes.

"Uh, yeah from time to time," you respond gently. "Today Eddie really needed an extra server on the floor so I jumped ship to help the boys."

“Must be a natural at taking charge.”

"Oh…I'm hardly ever a dom," you try to laugh it off. "If I am it's usually just for show. I'm more of a soft dom and sub if you ask me."

"Just for show, I see," that's all Emmy seems to get from what you said.

"I'm sorry... did I step on some toes here?" you question her. She's almost shocked at how ballsy you are. But then again, she doesn't know you. "Because you seem pretty fed up with me today, Emmy."

“We’re just really protective of our Eddie,” she replies dryly. "That's all."

“Girl, trust I don’t want any trouble,” you try to sound confident but your voice fails you. Why would you say that? You shouldn't say that, you're his girlfriend. They should be the ones treading lightly.

“Oh we would hope so too,” Emmy glares. “Cause we’re watching.”

And just like that, the girls you thought you were on good terms with strut back outside in a single file line, their icy stares fixed on you until they are out of sight.

The atmosphere feels arctic now. Eerie. Unwelcome. It's like the remnants of Isabelle Munson still linger after all.

“The hell what that all about?” Nina questions when she walks over to you.

“It’s a looong story,” you huff.

STRIKE ONE

"And then Emmy says to me, wE'rE jUsT rEaLlY pRoTeCtIvE oF eDdIe AnD wE'rE wAtChInG yOu da-da-da."

You stop your frantic pacing to plop onto Eddie's bed in exhaustion.

"Nina and I were just standing there like... the fuck?" you continue. "WHAT is this bitch's deal?"

Eddie chuckles at your recap of the events from the day before, lazily strumming along to a Metallica song he's learning on the guitar. You're displeased with your man's lack of concern for the issue at hand.

You shoot back up quickly.

"Matter of fact, what’s everyone's deal?" you demand. "They were all chill and nice to me when I started Hellfire but the SECOND they found out we're seeing each other it's like I'm their mortal enemy. And for what? It’s not like any of them stood a chance with you anyway. Thirsty ass bitches.”

"OH!" Steve hollers from the living room, causing you and Eddie to flinch. "TOUCHDOWN TAYLOR! Wooo hooo! That's what I'm talkin' bout baby."

Eddie puts his guitar down and starts towards you, realizing now how much this has taken a toll on your mental. He also closes his bedroom door all the way, allowing for privacy between you and him, and Steve with his precious Colts game.

"I'm really sorry the girls made you feel that way," he sighs. "It's just been a while since I have been exclusive with somebody. They know how badly Isabelle broke my heart. And well, ruined my life.”

You scoff, looking away. Eddie is there to ground you once more, placing his index and middle finger on your chin, using them to redirect you back to his reassuring gaze.

“They're just looking out for me,” he assures you. “Promise."

"They thought I was gonna be another Isabelle," you pout. "That's really offensive, you know."

"They said that with Chrissy too when she was new," Eddie recalls. "I mean…You should've SEEN the amount of drama that unfolded whenever she and I would even breathe the same air. You would've thought at one point, they were gonna chop her head off and parade it on a wooden stake like in Lord of the Flies."

You fold your arms irritably.

"This isn't Lord of the Flies, Eddie. This is real life."

"Lord of the Flies is also real life. In a way."

“Not sure which side of the battle you're on here, babe.”

Eddie then goes onto explain that Chrissy also faced the wrath of Eddie's OG dancers. But after the Hellfire Girls realized that Chrissy was not going to be a threat, they backed down.

Every explanation earns him an eye roll. Eddie needs to realize that being seen as a threat should never be an excuse to be mean to someone. Especially since those girls have been buddy-buddy with you before.

"Strip clubs can be... very catty," Eddie concludes. "The longer you work in the industry the more you'll realize. Take it with a grain of salt, okay baby? All that matters is us."

You don't budge. A part of you still feels discredited, despite kind of seeing where Eddie is coming from. Unless this worsens, he can’t 100% take your side. Eddie needs to be mediator for now.

He scratches his head.

“I also…need… my dancers,” Eddie points out. “So from a manager-slash-owner standpoint, there isn’t much I can do about Mean Girl shit other than keep it under my radar. But you’re a Hargrove, honey. You hold your ground, get your check, fight some chicks outside the club if you have to…”

You giggle at the last part. Eddie reels you in.

“…and then come home to me.”

And then he flashes you the Munson smile, that ever-so-charming million-dollar attribute that won your heart in the first place. It all causes you to blush.

"Okay," you say.

Before you two could swallow each other whole, Steve knocks on the door. Eddie pulls it open.

“I’m ordering pizza, any of you guys want some?” Steve questions. “Hope you don’t mind pineapple.”

Eddie grimaces. “You’re fucking disgusting. Make half of it a Meat Lovers and I’ll pay for it.”

“Fine,” Harrington huffs. His eyes travel over to you longingly. “Hargrove? You okay with pineapple?”

“I’m okay with whatever,” you mutter. “Anything’s better than a can of worms.”

Steve's eyes peer over at you then over at Eddie. He doesn't quite understand your analogy, but still seems supportive of you nonetheless.

“Okay…” Harrington mumbles before closing the door. “Pineapple and Meat Lovers it is.”

𓆩♡𓆪

It all makes sense why you ate most of Steve's pizza instead of him a couple days ago. You were clearly PMS-ing, and today you started your period.

At least now you know the Plan B you took was effective.

As grateful as you were, you're still having an awful time 'surfing the crimson wave'. Mood swings were also at an all-time high. Anything anyone was going to say to you was surely going to make you combust.

You're also bloated, a huge insecurity of yours because what you packed for today is rather skin tight. What typically would make you look snatched today looks relatively unflattering today. You try to give yourself grace. Body changes during a cycle is normal. It's part of being a woman.

"Shy Girl!" Eddie calls out to you from the other side of the dressing room. "You gonna be out soon, baby? Got a few regulars of yours at Vecna's Lair!"

The Hellfire Girls' ears perk up when they hear "regulars". Whatever is up their sleeves today cannot be any good.

You call back out to Eddie as you make your finishing touches. "Yes, coming!"

"I don't know," Emmy says, projecting her voice slightly louder than she usually does. You look towards her general direction as she talks. "I feel like a lot of people are uneducated about dressing for their body type. Cuz when you don't dress correctly for your body, it just makes everything look so unflattering."

You look down at your body and start to feel a little sad. Although the conversation was between Emmy and Justice, you can't help but feel attacked.

You decide to make your way over to the DJ and show him your songs for the night. Your choice for the evening is Candy by Doja Cat because its slow and sexy rhythm will allow you to move in a manner that is flexible for this particular phase of your cycle.

After thanking the DJ, you confidently strut back down from the stage, channeling your inner Marilyn Monroe walk as you continue to move around.

"Oh my god," you hear Justice say. "That's kinda really embarrassing. Can you imagine?"

Suddenly, you hear Eddie's voice trail after you. Out of all people.

"Baby!" he exclaims.

Stunned, you turn around. "Yes?"

"I uh," Eddie stammers. "Let's get you back into the locker room huh?"

You're confused. What could possibly be going on to cause such panic in Eddie's eyes? Why was he so frantic, pushing and hauling you into the dressing room — and not in a way you'd like.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Eds, slow down!" you exclaim. "What is it?"

Eddie gulps as he tries to catch his breath. You wait for him to talk, but he's too busy grabbing some spare towels and even some paper ones.

"Respectfully, Hargrove," Eddie says as he strides back over to you. "You need to change outfits or something."

Like Billy, you immediately go into defensive mode.

"OH IT LOOKS THAT BAD, HUH?” you demand. Your mini-freak out earns you some laughter from those girls, but you're too aggravated to give them your attention. “Sorry that I'm a little bloated today! Sorry that I’m a normal human being whose body is different depending on the day."

"It's not that, baby," Eddie insists. "It's just that... your bleeding? It went through."

Looking in the mirror now, you see a HUGE blot behind you. Your tampon had gotten dislodged and now there is blood all over your cute baby blue set. Heat begins to simmer at your cheeks.

Those fucking Hellfire Girls. How dare they not tell you?

When you glare back over at them, the Hellfire Girls are trying to conceal their laughter. What's even more infuriating is that Eddie doesn't seem to notice. But to be fair, he's too fixated on you to pay other women any mind. You want to pop them all, see how funny it is after.

"Seems like you're having a rough day," Eddie comments as he strokes your back.

"I am," you admit. "I tried to tough it out and come to work today, but nothing is going right." The air is quiet again when the girls see Eddie touching you lovingly.

You turn your body back towards the mirror and look at your ruined set in dismay. Eddie hates seeing you upset. Resting his gentle hands on your shoulder, he begins to barter.

"How about…” Eddie says. “You take the rest of the night off? I’ll take you home right quick. To my place.”

“Really?”

“Yeah!” your man nods, causing you blush. “Harrington and I have a shit ton of ice cream so you can help yourself. Lay in my bed, watch something on Netflix... When I'm off work and done visiting Wayne, we can cuddle, and I can give you belly rubs. Sound good?"

"Sounds like heaven, actually."

You don’t know what you’ve done to deserve him. Eddie is so tender and sweet when he lets his walls down. You’re grateful that he decided to lean into the unknown when it comes down to you. Such a good boyfriend already.

The Hellfire Girls can’t help but eavesdrop on your little exchange. Suddenly, Eddie speaks again.

“Are we okay?” Eddie questions you with his beady eyes.

“Yes,” you smile. “We’re more than okay.”

Eddie kisses your cheek. He leaves his peck there for a few seconds before letting go. "I'll come scoop you in 10 once I get everything squared away. Then it’s junk food and cuddles all night long.”

Eddie makes sure that the girls hear this entire conversation. As you start to pack your stuff, Nancy drops in with a graceful smile, spoiling you with pads, tampons, and some ibuprofen. Meanwhile, Jonathan packs you a Sprite in a to-go cup with a smiley face, and Argyle spoils you with your usual — chicken wings, flats only.

The Hellfire Girls are fuming. Their attempt to embarrass you didn't go as planned. Instead, they got a lovesick Eddie with a Shy Girl on her way to his house to drink hot tea, scarf down some junk food, and relish in a heat pack of sorts and cuddles all night. And Eddie’s friends indirectly rushing to your defense.

But this humbling experience doesn’t stop their games. No no, it only just issued them a new set of information and ammunition for more intense blows.

The torment isn’t stopping here. The girls are going try harder.

---

STRIKE TWO

It didn’t stop at the subtle jabs.

If there was an opportunity to inconvenience you, the Hellfire Girls took it. Like calling Eddie on his day off — while he’s out with you — to come scope out a problem that could’ve been fixed without him. Or stealing your song choice when they heard you talking about it with Chrissy, and how you planned on using it for your set. Or “dropping” breakable items like your nail polish on accident and blaming it on their ‘complete and utter clumsiness’. Funny, because Eddie is always talking about how poised they are and a myriad of other good things…because that’s just who your boyfriend is at his core: a lover and supporter of women. Unlike some people.

It was Dustin’s turn to grocery shop one day. And while the Eddie Special is back on the menu, it was the waffle fries’ turn to be 86’d. Mike’s girlfriend, Jane keeps eating them and Wheeler of course always forgets to take inventory.

"So what does 86 mean?"

You're eating lunch with a couple Hellfire Girls in the dressing room when service industry lingo is brought up. Everyone eyes you, from Emmy to Lady to Kassidy. Justice seems to be holding her breath.

"86?" you repeat just to make sure.

Kassidy gives you a look, almost a "duh" kind of look that makes you feel slightly stupid.

"Yeah, heard you talking about it with the kitchen staff."

"Oh," you say. "Oh well 86 means to get rid of something. Maybe because it's not available anymore, or out of stock. Not needed, even."

"I see..." Kassidy responds.

"Wish we can '86' people," Lady mutters.

The comment earns her a snicker from Kassidy and Lady. It makes you feel weird inside. They couldn't have possibly been talking about you, right?

You walk away to throw away your food, and while you’re away from them their laughs intensify. Now all they could talk about is ‘86’ and their own personal spins on it.

Oh they were most definitely talking about you.

You decide to leave the dressing room and hang out at the hookah lounge before your next set. It was clear you weren’t welcome and you weren’t about to be in the company of people who were only going to drain your energy.

The audacity of it all still leaves you appalled. Plotting behind your back is one thing, but the fact they had the guts to say it and do things in front of you now is scary.

𓆩♡𓆪

“And then they said, ‘Wish we could 86 people’,” you recall angrily. “That basically implies they want to get rid of me.”

“That sucks, sis,” Billy sighs. “Yeah, that’s exactly what it sounds like.”

You’re on the phone playing catch-up with Billy on your day off. Meanwhile, Eddie is playing a video game with his online friends, allowing you to use his room to pace around in frustration.

“And one time when I was on my period, I bled through,” you continue. “And then Eddie-”

Billy interrupts you before you could positively advertise your man. You would think your brother would want to know that his twin sister is in good hands judging by the way Eddie took care of you when you were feeling like absolute shit…how instead of forcing you to perform he sent you home early and ate junk food with you and gave you a heat pack and belly rubs to help with cramps…But no.

“I don’t wanna hear about that girl stuff,” Billy gags. “It’s fucking disgusting.”

Classic Billy.

“…okay,” you huff and digress. “But you get the picture, right? These girls have it out for me.”

“Oh for sure,” Billy agrees. “It’s one-sided beef because they’re intimidated by you. I hope they get the shit pimp-slapped out of them for being dicks to you.”

“I wouldn’t go as far as to say that…” you mumble.

“But I would,” Billy laughs pridefully.

No matter how awful the girls were being to you, you wouldn’t wish anything upon them like Billy described. They were already miserable anyways, judging by how awful they were being to you for no reason. If anything you’d wish them healing and some love because they clearly needed it.

“I wish I could go over there and give ‘em a piece of my mind,” your twin brother continues, the thought of violently attacking women quite possibly giving him a hard-on via the other line. “No one can be mean to my sister BUT ME.”

The execution of his words makes your stomach turn. Because as those words are uttered, you’re back in the San Diego rental, screaming and crying, clawing at Billy to get him off of you because apparently your change in tone towards him was enough justification for you to be accosted against the wall.

“That was really uncalled for, Billy,” you scold him. “Time and place, please.”

Suddenly, the vibe changes. You can practically feel the heat through the phone.

“What, you’ve never heard of that expression before?” Billy demands. “It was a fucking joke, don’t get so butthurt.”

“Is it really a joke?” you hiss. “Because if we revisit the timeline, you haven’t been exactly nice to me either.”

“OH MY…” Billy sighs in exasperation. “I can’t say SHIT to you without you crying about it. Maybe those bitches are onto something. Maybe YOU’RE the fucking problem.”

“How can you say that?!” you shout.

The change in your tone causes Eddie to look up from his computer. Like second nature, the tears free fall from your eyes as you scream at your brother through the phone.

“After I vent to you about EVERYTHING, Billy, really?!”

“I don’t know, maybe since so many people have a problem with you…including ME,” your brother snaps. “'Think it’s time we look at the common denominator.”

“YOU KNOW WHAT FUCK YOU! I don’t know why I tell you anything anymore!”

“YEAH WELL FUCK YOU TOO BITCH!” Billy screams back. “I’m GLAD you and that scrawny red-headed BRAT moved out. My life has NEVER BEEN THIS PEACEFUL!”

“Yeah cause you were SO unbothered you had to FLY HERE and CONFRONT ME AT MY JOB, RIGHT?”

It’s a few more nasty exchanges of words and threats before you hang up and chuck your phone at the wall. Startled, and probably reminded of his own traumas, Eddie’s first instinct is to duck. You watch as he trembles slightly, like a puppy during a thunderstorm, before removing his cupped hands away from his ears.

He then makes his way over to you, demeanor shifting from alarmed to alarmed for you.

“Hey,” Eddie whispers to you in consolation. “Hey hey hey hey. Come here. Come here.”

He rocks you in place. Immediately you collapse into Eddie’s arms. You’re absolutely tired. Tired of the Hellfire girls. Tired of putting on a happy face for your little sister 24/7. Tired of Billy. Tired of feeling like a burden.

“I fucking hate him,” you wail. “I hate him, I hate him. I hate him.”

“You don’t need him.”

“I don’t need him.”

“You don’t need him.”

“I don’t,” you tell Eddie, and yourself. “Fuck him. Fuck California. Fuck everything.”

“That’s right baby,” Eddie whispers. He plants a soft kiss onto your forehead. “You’re staying here with me.”

“With you.”

𓆩♡𓆪

Eventually you do get over it and decide that Billy and the Hellfire Girls don’t deserve any of your time and energy.

Just in time for another work shift. Today you’re doing personal lap dances at VECNA’S LAIR, but it’s not too busy so you’re essentially scanning the room in search of clients for the first hour.

Your eyes light up when you pinpoint a few regulars. You skip on over to the first one.

“Hi, Barry!” you exclaim. “How are you?”

“Oh, god! Hello Shy Girl!” Barry replies. He looks happy to see you, but oddly not particularly excited. “How…have you been?”

“I’ve been well! Long time no see!” you smile. “How are your boys?”

“They’re doing well,” your regular nods. “They’re working on their college applications right now, and the younger one has been scouted for some schools on the East Coast for football.”

“You must be so proud.”

“Very!”

It seems like Barry has cut the conversation there. Strange, because he almost always requests a dance. You decide to push for more information.

“Sooo, are you in the mood for a dance today?”

“You’re a sweetheart,” Barry blushes. “But no thank you, not today. I’m trying to save money so I’m just gonna have a drink and go.”

Now THAT’S really odd. First of all, Barry is LOADED, hence being a regular. And even if being frugal was the case, what was his ass even doing at Hellfire? You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by prying further so you just leave it at that, wishing Barry a lovely rest of his day and going about your day.

When you leave, you’re taken aback when Justice makes her way over to your client and asks him the same question.

“Hi, Barry. Would you like a dance?”

“Oh, hi! Yes, I’d love one!”

You nearly get whiplash just by how fast you crane your neck back over to them. What the actual fuck? Eyeing them curiously, you watch as Barry slips a 20 over to Justice, to which she takes from him seductively as she sinks onto his lap. Her eyes trail over to you, somewhat satisfied with herself when she sees you watching. Your blood starts to boil. She just took your regular. And in a sense, your money.

But that’s still something you don’t have time to entertain. So you strut over to your next regular, Asher.

Sweet, sweet Asher. He’s significantly younger than Barry. Finance major, freelancer, only child in his early twenties and his parents are rich. Asher has always been nice to you, and like Steve, spoils the fuck out of you when you’re his dancer.

“Hey you,” you bat your lashes at him. “Long time no see!”

“Oh my god, Shy Girl!” Asher exclaims. He doesn’t hug you like he usually does, but he’s still happy to see you. “It’s been a minute. I actually didn’t think you were coming in today.”

“I’m always on Thursdays,” you point out. “You always get a dance from me.”

“Ohhh, that’s right,” Asher recalls. “You and Eddie call today Friday Junior Junior.”

“Yeah, silly!” you giggle. “Speaking of dances, would you like one?”

Your question generates a similar reaction from Asher like Barry had given you. It was then that you knew something had to have been up. But nothing could’ve possibly prepared you for what Asher was about to say.

“Oh, no thanks!” your client gracefully declines. “I think I’ll wait until you fully recover. I hope you’re okay with that boundary of mine.”

Appalled, you try to construe what he meant by that.

“Yes, I respect your boundaries of course…” you say. “But, what do you mean by get better?”

“Aren’t you sick?” Asher questions. “And like…taking antibiotics for something serious? Cause if you are, you shouldn’t be at work.”

Asher respectfully ends your conversation right then and there. It’s like a mental door has closed on your face. Completely distraught, you walk away from your other reliable regular, just to have Lady walk up to him and be granted permission to give him a dance.

This is ridiculous. You need to get to the bottom of these rumors right away. On your way to the bar, you run into Nina. She extends her arms out to you, eyes widening as you walk towards her.

“OMG, Shy Girl!” Nina exclaims, rather panicked. “What are you doing here girl, you need to be home recovering?!”

“Recovering from what?” you snapped. “I just had TWO regulars turn me down but then say yes to dances from other dancers. Why did I have to learn through the grapevine that I’m sick?! Which I am not, by the way.”

“So… you don’t have gonorrhea?”

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head.

“WHO THE FUCK SAID I HAD GONORRHEA?!”

Nina’s face drops when she realizes. You don’t even have to pry any further now. The pained look on your friend’s face told you EXACTLY who started that rumor.

Now those girls are pushing it. Because now you’re losing out on money and clientele. Absolutely aggravated, you storm back into the dressing room to collect yourself because you’re sure as hell not going to let them see you fall apart.

When you slam the door, you allow yourself to have a good cry. Luckily, Nina and Chrissy are the only ones in there with you. The only girls you trust at this establishment besides Nancy.

You’re not sad. You’re crying because you’re angry and frustrated. Nina and Chrissy understand, swarming you with hugs and validating back pats, letting you cry until you had no tears left to do so anymore.

“Shy Girl,” Nina frowns. “I have no words.”

Your bottom lip quivers profusely as you shake your head.

“I just don’t understand,” you choke. “Why are they so horrible to me? I didn’t do anything to them.”

“I’m really sorry love,” Chrissy rubs your back as she lays her head on your shoulder. “Unfortunately, I understand that all too well. They did the same thing to me too.”

STRIKE THREE, YOU’RE OUT.

“God, you need a new car, Munson.”

You’re smoking with Eddie in his van during your ‘joint’ lunch break. It’s become a tradition now for you two to take your meals at the same time to spend time with each other because you’re both way too busy to be affectionate work.

“Babe, really?” Eddie huffs jokingly. “Put some respect on Shiela’s name. She’s been through hell and back with me.”

You giggle as you take a huge drag from your blunt, inhaling then expelling, coughing up the remainder and taking in the slight comfort of a warm chest. You pass Eddie the blunt to finish it.

“But you’re right though,” Eddie admits with a sigh. He fiddles with the blunt before putting it out on his ash tray. “The good news is I’m caught up on Wayne’s bills. Next 'big boy' purchase is a new whip.”

“That’s awesome baby,” you smile. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Or a motorcycle,” Eddie smirks. “I’d love a bike.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not?” he quips.

Eddie leans over the center console to kiss your temple. When you hum in pleasure, he begins trailing down your neck.

“Thought you liked bad boys.”

You and Eddie proceed to have a healthy debate. It isn’t about the bad boy aesthetic like Eddie thinks it’s about, but more so the practicality of the situation. Eddie needs something to lug groceries in when he's out running errands, and with Wayne still getting active cancer treatments, the old man needs a ride to his appointments. And that poor man has aged out of the Bad-to-the-Bone 'cyclist scene, you’re afraid.

“Speaking of practicality,” Eddie says. He nods towards your red Toyota Camry that’s parked on the opposite end of the lot. “Why’d you park there? Move your car closer so I don't have to walk you too far tonight.”

You look through the rearview mirror to locate your baby. Eddie was right. It was parked further than it usually is, and if your boyfriend isn’t the one escorting you to your car tonight it’s going to be Henry or one of the other boys who are sure to complain. By the door would be convenient for everyone.

“Okay,” you say. You kiss him. “Be right back.”

You climb out of Eddie's van and make your way over to your car. After several tries, you hit a scary realization.

Your car won’t start.

You try again. And again, and again. Still, to no avail. Eddie eventually pops his head out, wondering why the ordeal is taking you so long. You exaggerate a shrug to him so he could see your sense of panic from a distance.

"What happened?!"

"It won't start!"

“Let me at her,” Eddie replies. “I was a mechanic before I started a business…”

You and Eddie switch places and you decide to wait for him by the door. Jonathan startles you a moment later when he opens it abruptly.

“Sorry, Shy Girl. The boys need Eddie for a minute can you go grab him for me?”

“He’s taking a look at my car, it won’t start,” you explain.

Jonathan’s face drops. “Oh no, that sucks. Hope you don’t have to take it in.”

“I hope so too. Either way I’ve got a ride home. It’s just inconvenient.”

Jonathan, whose knowledgeable about cars too, starts asking you some screening questions to help identify the problem. You assure him that nothing was wrong with it throughout the week, and there surely wasn’t anything wrong with it earlier.

Soon Chrissy comes out too.

“Hey!” she chimes. “Where’s Eddie? The boys are looking for him.”

“He’s looking at my car, something’s wrong with it,” you explain again. “It was fine this morning but when I went go move it, it kinda just—”

“Found the culprit,” Eddie grunts uneasily.

Your boyfriend waves you three over and you all follow suit. There's soot and grease all over your man's hands, but that is a kink to be explored much later. For now, the astonished look on his face is one of the main things to worry about.

Eddie points to your gas tank.

“There’s a shit ton of sugar there. The fuel in that tank is practically semi-solid.”

Sugar in your gas tank. THOSE BITCHES PUT SUGAR IN YOUR GAS TANK. You and Chrissy look at each other immediately, both of your suspicions about whose responsible practically ringing true.

“I know who fucking did it,” you shake your head.

“I-” Eddie’s face drops. He is utterly disappointed in the Hellfire Girls. “I just don’t even know what to say.”

He reaches into his pocket to grab his phone. Suddenly, your phone pings. It’s a Venmo notification.

“But less saying more doing, right?” Eddie tries to chuckle optimistically. “I just sent you $2K. Wayne’s cancer is acting up again, and I have to take him to his oncologist tomorrow. You let me know if they quote you for more than that.”

“Two grand?!” you shriek. “It’s bad huh?”

“Yeah…I ain’t gonna sugarcoat it, sweetheart,” Eddie frowns. “You might need a fuel tank replacement.”

Now you and Chrissy are fuming. Nina eventually comes over to check on everyone as well and is stunned by the news she hears. She starts to angrily take off her hoops, those fucking cunts, but Jonathan stops her.

“I’ll fuck ‘em up!” Nina insists. “I’m from Nocturna, baby. We don’t mess around there.”

“My ex was from Chula, and my brother is Billy,” you tsk. “We don’t play around either.”

Eddie puts his hands on his hips. “I guess we’ll call the tow company to come take it to Dave’s. I can take you home tonight, baby. It’s no issue.”

“No!” Chrissy snaps. “Nina and I are taking her home. If there’s no issue here, fix the evident ones inside!”

“Let’s go back inside Shy Girl,” Nina grumbles. “This is ridiculous.”

Your two friends are at either sides of you, linking your arms with theirs in solidarity. Those girls inside are about to get an earful. NO ONE messes with YOU and gets away with it.

“EDDIE,” Chrissy forewarns before slamming the door. “FUCKING PUT THEM IN CHECK, OR WE WILL.”

You’re too distraught to say anything. Otherwise, you would totally be ripping some cheap extensions out out some heads right now. You can’t believe these girls would go as far as to damaging your property, all because Eddie found someone who made him happy after his shitty divorce. If you did to them what they did to you, you know they definitely wouldn’t like that.

CLOSED FOR THE REST OF THE NIGHT DUE TO STAFFING ISSUES. SORRY FOR EDGING YOU :/

It was Eddie’s decision to close early because there was just so much that needed to be taken care of. But hearing Eddie scold and hold the girls accountable in his office, you know — the same office he was screwing you in — was music to your ears.

But even that state of bliss is short-lived. Because like a deadly virus, when the smear campaign doesn’t work, it mutates into a much larger issue: retaliation.

“See what happens when you snitch?” a voice demands. “Eddie loses out on business.”

You turn your head around to see Justice mad-dogging you with her arms crossed. You inflate your chest and stand up to her, showing no signs of intimidation.

“You’re fucking his shit up, just like his sorry ex wife,” she says to you.

You start to walk closer to her, to which Chrissy and Nina go after you right away.

“Woah woah woah there sister!” Chrissy stops you.

“Hey hey hey,” Nina joins in, helping her pull you away.

But Justice isn’t scared. Why should she be? She’s been here longer than you. She’s known Eddie longer than you. But she still has no business butting into Eddie’s. Especially if it fuels the fire that she and her friends desperately wanted to start.

“If I were y’all… I’d back the fuck up,” you advise her. “I don’t think you realize, but you’re fucking with a Hargrove.”

“Okay… and you’re fucking with Eddie’s Day Ones,” Lady comes to Justice’s defense, sneering at you condescendingly. “Sorry, Valley Girl, we don’t know what that means here in Hawkins.”

“Oh but you will. After damaging my rep AND property.”

“Oh was that a threat? You’re threatening us now huh?”

“Eddie’s not gonna fuck you,” Nina spits at them. “You do realize that right?”

“I mean…good,” Kassidy chuckles. “Wouldn’t wanna fuck him after Miss Gonorrhea did.”

𓆩♡𓆪

Do you accept the risk? Do you accept the risk?

All this time you thought Eddie was asking you because he knew he still had some baggage to sort through. But now you’re starting to wonder if there was a double meaning.

Eddie’s OG dancers are obviously in love with him, there’s no doubt about it. It stopped becoming a matter of “protecting Eddie” when they started sabotaging your experience at Hellfire after learning of your involvement with him. Had you been just another dancer, this would never have been the case.

Eddie tries to text you. But you don’t have the strength to reply. The next few days is spent in isolation, using this time alone to contemplate about what it is you truly want.

You came to Hawkins to escape Billy’s never-ending torment. Now that torment has seemed to take on a new form, and your inner peace is something you’re never ever going to sacrifice again.

Your first Monday back, you make your way over to Eddie’s office. And it’s almost like Eddie knows. As much as you know how deep that abandonment wound sits in Eddie’s soul, you knew you still had to put yourself first.

“Hi, Eds.”

“Baby…” Eddie pleads at a whisper. “Don’t do this. I can already see it in your eyes.”

You weren’t leaving him. You want to be with him more than anything. But this extension of him? You can love it to bits but still not want anything to do with it. Especially if the environment is unbearably toxic.

“I just think…our relationship is bleeding into work,” you swallow hard. “And I probably need to go somewhere else if we want this to last.”

“Please don’t word the first part like that…”

Eddie doesn’t tell you because he knows it’s not your intention, but it starts giving him war-like flashbacks to when his marriage with Isabelle started bleeding into work. The abandonment wound with her — and everyone in his life except Wayne — cuts so deep. He NEEDS that bandaid. But for your well-being, you needed to rip it off.

“It’s what we get for shitting where we eat, I guess,” you sniff, trying to laugh the burden of it all away.

“I warned you,” Eddie chokes. “Didn’t I?”

“I know,” you sigh. “But I just couldn’t help how I feel about you.”

“Then stay!” he begs. “The good outweighs the bad, sweetheart. Our friends love you so much.”

“I love them too, but if I’m gonna get verbally accosted, harassed, laughed at, and have sugar put in my gas tank then what’s the point?”

The tears leave Eddie’s eyes easily, and he doesn’t stop them from doing so. If only the Hellfire girls saw the pain they have caused you AND this man — the man they swore up and down that they were ‘protecting’.

“It’s either that or you fire 60 percent of your dancers and I WON’T let you do that,” you gulp. “It’s best to get rid of just one.”

“Just please, let’s talk it through.”

But there’s nothing left to talk about. No Eddie, you shake your head. What’s done is done, and what needs to be said has already been communicated. And as Eddie hangs his head in shame, you tug at the drawstrings of your cloak, fold it up neatly, and set it down on his desk.

“I’m quitting Hellfire.”

🏷️ tag list: @chrrymunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe @hideoutside , @motherfckerr , @jxpsi , @lindseyj23, @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria , @micheledawn1975 , @hereforshmut , @siriuslysmoking , @nymphetkoo , @m-chmcl-rmnc , @justinelittlewoodsworld , @ahoyyharrington , @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse @kellyxo1 @emsgoodthinkin @winchester-angel @chloe-6123 , @redbarn1995 @angietherose @kiyastrf94 , @purplewitchcauldron @kellsck @joyfulfxckery @munsons-mayhem28 @dragonfire @emma77645 @drivelikenina @livosssblog @thinkingth0ts @hugdealer @ellielunamckay

264 notes · View notes

inknopewetrust · 2 years

Text

Oh, Baby, it’s Monday.

Summary: You and Eddie raise a baby… only you aren’t a couple and the baby isn’t real–but now it's the first week and things evolve. Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader [WC: 8k] Warnings: Idiots in love, language, Billy Hargrove and Carol Perkins are assholes, only getting a part 3 aka “Halloween” if people want it (comments and reblogs help!) Quick Links: Masterlist | Part One

Mr. Allen's classroom was a sound box of squabbles and chaos when you walked through the doorway Monday morning.

Tommy Hagen was throwing his doll across the room to Billy Hargrove in the far left corner as girls giggled in gaggles at their desks and Steve was trying to plead with the teacher at his desk.

It was like walking into an inferno without any water.

Bilbo was clutched into your chest; falsely protected by the notebook and pencil case you carried. The doll was swaddled the best you could manage that morning and surprisingly, quiet for the last few hours.

"Would everyone please take a seat!" Mr. Allen called from behind his desk but Steve did not leave and the disorder did not quell.

As you dodged the flying baby, you walked down the aisle of desks and attempted to find yours except it was already occupied. Carol Perkins was sitting in it; her doll placed on top with a stain of spaghetti sauce in the middle of its onesie.

"You're in my seat," you told her, raising your eyebrows as she popped her gum loudly with arms crossed. She peered over to you with flippant eyes, cocking her head to the side, and sticking her neck further out. Carol was no better than Billy, Tommy, or the rest of them.

"What?" She ran her tongue teasingly over her lips and jostled her shoulder with a wink. "Don't wanna sit by daddy?"

They had all heard Eddie's joke in the cafeteria last week. Mama. It was harmless in Eddie's eyes compared to their own. Their minds were far from it—dangerous and begging for a way to make their tiny hearts feel better by putting others in situations they'd never want to see themselves in. No one called people ‘daddy’ unless they were quite literally five and talking to their father, so the sentiment behind it was crude and unwelcome.

You sighed, motioning to your desk, "Can I sit down? This is my desk."

"Sorry," She pursed her face with a comedic frown and the girls sitting around her laughed. Their high-pitched chuckles made your skin crawl. "See these," she waved her hand at the surrounding desks, "are for people who aren't freaks… you know which corner they sit in."

You stared at her, mouth slightly agape and processing what she had said. The problem with girls–high school girls–was that the image of who you grew to be mattered most to them.

"What are you talking about?" You scoffed, furrowing your brows at her. "This is literally my seat, Carol. You can't just kick me out of my seat–" you turned toward Mr. Allen, not wanting to be the person who tattles about menial things, but you didn't want to get in trouble for not sitting in the one assigned to you at the beginning of the year.

"You gonna tattle on me, little miss perfect? No wonder you and Nance are such good friends," Carol fluffed her voluminous red hair, "It doesn't surprise me that you get on well with Munson after she became friends with Byers… maybe you can go on double dates to the cemetery and listen to his pathetic band play at a run-down bar."

"You're such a b-"

You couldn't get the words out to defend Nancy, Jonathan, Eddie, or yourself because Eddie had walked into the classroom as she fluffed her hair. Before you could spit out the insult, he put a hand on your lower back and pushed you forward. The feel of his hand sent a jolt through your spine, your head turning to look over your shoulder only to find him shaking his head with pleading eyes.

"Don't play into that," he said as he sat down at the desk in the right corner. Eddie hooked his foot around the one beside him and positioned it next to his–out of order with the rest of them five rows forward. "Believe me," he rose his eyebrows knowingly, "they just want to get a rise out of you."

You slid into the seat next to him and laid Bilbo between the crease that connected the desks.

"They're assholes. All of them," you mumbled to which he responded with a nod, crossing his arms across his chest and observed the room before him. Mr. Allen looked like he wanted to pull, what little hair he had left, out of his head as Steve tried to persuade him to cut the assignment short. The baby flinging between Tommy and Billy looked ready to lose an arm.

Glancing over at him, Eddie had a cigarette tucked behind his ear that pushed his hair back. He was wearing a black leather jacket and an inconspicuous red t-shirt underneath. The same ornate jewelry he adorned every day littered his figure–a black hair tie on his right wrist. You were reminded of your father's comments from Saturday, looking away and focusing your attention elsewhere.

"I think I cracked it, the code on how to care for Bilbo," you said quietly. Eddie looked at the doll all swaddled in its yellow blanket and recognized it had been washed. The fabric was fluffy and begging to be touched.

"Yeah?"

"The swaddle helps, sure, but it's like… it can sense stress or something. We just have to be gentle and the tantrums won't last as long. The way you touch it has to be gentle."

"That's it?" Eddie appeared unconvinced but the conversation died when Mr. Allen got up from his chair, slammed the door closed, and told everyone to sit next to their partners. You met Eddie's eyes with the question lingering between you–how did he know you'd have to sit by one another?

Eddie leaned over, unintentionally making goosebumps erupt on your skin. You were thankful the weather was changing and you could wear long sleeves.

"Katie Yang has Allen before us. Told me that everyone complained and he makes everyone talk," he whispered.

Katie Yang was a savior. Katie Yang made Eddie's impulsive escape plan valid without reason. The senior Hellfire member had never even spoken to you before, but she had your back and didn't even know it.

"We will have to give them all our secrets?" You smiled and he caught himself glancing down at your lips as they grinned. "I'd rather they all have to walk through Mordor than come home to the Shire."

Oh, Eddie was fucked. Royally and utterly fucked.

"So," Mr. Allen clapped his hands together eagerly. He was excited to hear the tales of the weekend because for once, each one was connected to his assignment.

He gazed around at the pairs and saw the life draining from many of the eyes. Steve was still angered at his refusal to cut the project short, a couple of the girls were picking at the doll clothes, and the many of the guys kept to themselves.

"Who wants to share first?"

Allen paced at the front of the room. He knowingly prepared to choose the first set of eyes that diverted from his and those eyes were Tina Nicholls'.

"Tina!" He exclaimed happily and everyone looked toward her. "How was the first few days of parenthood?"

"Horrible, like everyone else says," she began twirling her hair like something out of a mean girl flick. Tina was too busy planning her Halloween party to care about the project.

"And Peter is your partner?" he pointed to the football player next to her and she nodded.

"Do you think it's horrible, Peter?"

"I mean," he sounded like he was strung out on cocaine, "it's fine, I guess."

"Any tips you'd like to share? How are you able to care for the baby if feeding and hygiene aren't options?"

Steve turned his entire body to face them. He was so far lost that he had no clear plan. For once, the entire room was void of wailing or gurgling or giggles and it was peaceful.

"We just kind of let it cry," Peter admitted, not sure if there was any other answer to the question.

Eddie tipped his head toward yours and you could feel the ends of his hair brush your shoulder.

"Bad parents," he scolded and you bit your lip to prevent the smile that was threating to overtake your face. It was so easy to smile at everything he said.

"Do you think letting it cry it out every time is a good strategy?" Mr. Allen asked in response and the two shrugged their shoulders.

"We're not parents, how would we know?" Tina retorted.

"First time parents don't know what they're walking into either. But, in the end, they make it work," he narrowed his eyes, "sometimes."

"But this baby is fake and only half the work of a real baby," Peter added and Allen nodded.

"Exactly, Peter. If you think this is hard–with a doll that's unpredictable–then imagine being real parents at your age. Many of you are adults or going to be adults within the year and just because you are eighteen, it doesn't mean you're ready to be parents."

Carol laughed from your former seat. "Could you imagine any of us as parents?" She garnered a few chuckles from the ones that follow her around school. Billy Hargrove in the other corner smiled at her when she turned around to look around the room.

"No, I can't," Mr. Allen shook his head at her, preparing to ask another group their experience.

"I mean," she shifted her body to swivel in the chair in your direction, "I don't want to be a mother because it would mess up my body," a whistle left Billy's lips and it perturbed you.

“Think of Hargrove as a dad!” She cackled and Billy let her joke. “That kid would be as buff as Arnold by the time he’s two!”

The way she looked in your direction made Eddie tense up beside you.

"Could you imagine miss perfect and the freak having a baby?"

It wasn't even two days ago that you realized you were attracted to Eddie in a romantic way and here the popular kids were, drawing attention to nothing more than an assigned partnership like it was a choice. You couldn't help the way your face fell. The laughter from the peers you had known since kindergarten invading every sense and it was new.

For Eddie, it wasn't. Hell, he had been crushing on the girl with her nose stuck in a book since the fifth grade and if he was going to let a group of nasty bullies prevent his dreams of sweeping you, that girl, off her feet he’d never forgive himself.

"You know, Carol," He steeled his face as he looked at her, feeling your eyes watch his every movement, "you've been fuckin' Tommy since the seventh grade. I'm surprised an 'accident' hasn't happened."

There was a brief second in time where Mr. Allen's classroom had become a vacuum in space. A pin could be heard dropping in the three seconds of silence that followed Eddie's words and the teacher himself was stunned into a wordlessness despair.

"Holy shit," Billy erupted in laughter and set the whole room off.

"Mr. Munson, Mr. Munson," Mr. Allen breathed in heavily but Eddie wasn't paying attention to him.

Eddie met your eyes and saw the twinkle return in them. He smiled not at his words that defend you from her attack, but at the way you looked at him. He prayed to those metal Gods that what he saw in them wasn't a fallacy; that maybe, somewhere in the glint, there was the spark that illuminated his fire.

"Mr. Munson, please don't use that language in class." Mr. Allen scolded him, looking away from the now red-in-the-face Carol as Tommy high fived the guys around him.

"Sorry," Eddie replied to him half-heartedly because he was still looking at you.

That response was the talk of Hawkins High for an entire week.

Eddie took Bilbo Monday night and returned him Tuesday morning, departing from you with a small 'good luck tonight' leaving your lips as he debated skipping science.

That brief, four-minute conversation centered around Bilbo and his gig at the Hideout lingered within him for the entire day. As he drove home, when he left in his van, as he drove up to the bar, and when he sat tuning his guitar with a stupid, lovesick smile plastered on his face—all of his thoughts were consumed by you. Little parasite.

"What's wrong with him?" Jeff asked Gareth as the other guitarist sat beside the curly-haired boy fiddling with the symbols of his set. Gareth glanced at Eddie with the answer to the master’s knowing grin.

"You ever been in love, Jeff?" Gareth questioned quietly and Jeff choked on air.

"Love? Eddie's in love? With who?" Jeff openly gawked with surprise finding its way onto his face. The junior had seen Eddie flirt with girls, even go on a few dates but never, in his life, had he seen Eddie Munson be a man consumed by love.

"Y/n L/n," Gareth snickered at Jeff's face.

"They're partners for that baby project! He's not in love."

"He scared the shit out of me on Saturday where he admitted it to my face. Spent the whole day with her and you notice him at lunch?" Gareth challenged Jeff. Eddie had been himself for the most part, however, as Jeff reflects, his attention was always being pulled away. Eyes diverted, head turned toward another table, not fully engaged beyond talk of D&D and the new Maiden album Aces High.

"He's half there and half in la la land."

Jeff wanted to play into it. "Hey, Eddie!"

Eddie stopped tuning, eyes flicking to the clock on the wall above the door before looking at his friends.

"What?"

"How's the baby project? Make you wanna be a dad?"

"No," Eddie cackled, "but it's fine. A lot better than last week."

"And Y/n?"

"What about her?" Eddie's eyes left Jeff’s for a split second to see Gareth smiling beside him and the secret, his secret, was out in the open. He should have never said anything. Eddie had just panicked in the moment that evening. "Seriously, man?"

"Sorry!" Gareth giggled holding his hands up in defense, "you were smiling like an idiot and he asked!"

"You gonna ask her out or just watch her every day at lunch?" Jeff joked and Eddie felt the guitar pick between his fingers become a bullet. He tossed the pick harshly in Jeff's direction but the boy dodged it.

"I don't watch her at lunch."

"Yes, you do," Gareth backed Jeff up. He got up from his stool and picked the pick off the floor. "You've been staring at her since Friday and yeah, you talk at school and spent one afternoon together but that's not gonna help you sway her interest. Now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure you’ve stared at her table the entire time I’ve know you!”

"Who said I was trying to sway her interest?" Eddie questioned, narrowing his eyes and leaning his head forward as he gripped the neck of his guitar. "What if I just want to be friends?"

"I'm sorry," Jeff stood up, shaking his head, "you blasted Carol Perkins in Allen's class for what? We get shit on all the time and you don't defend us like that! You did, however, defend her and if you wanted to be 'just friends' you would have laughed it off like it was nothing."

"I was being nice!"

"Yeah, nice to get in her pants!"

"Hey!" Eddie defended again, not realizing Gareth and Jeff were pulling the admissions out of him like stealing candy from a baby. "Don't say that!"

"It's true, though. Isn't it? She's a pretty nice girl… you know what they say about the quiet ones…" Gareth looked at Jeff conspiratorially.

Eddie bolted from the chair he had been sitting in and got in Gareth's face. His face angered and serious, the two knew Eddie played into the palm of their hand. Eddie teetered the line between social strata and confrontation—working for no physical confrontations so long as his jesting was allowed. He had been socked one to many times to know that a concussion would put him out of commission from doing what he enjoyed most.

"Don't fucking say that shit ever again."

"You love her, man," Jeff put his hand on Eddie's shoulder, drawing him back from Gareth, "or at least like her a lot."

Gareth provided a tight, hopeful expression in support. Eddie looked at both of them before turning around and pacing the small room.

"I doubt she would even say yes if I asked. Why would she go out with me? People at school are making fun of her because of this goddamn project so can you imagine if I somehow managed to date her? She'd be a social… pariah!"

"Oh, big words," Jeff mumbled.

"I can't put her through that! What kind of person would I be if I caused her to lose friends or have girls write rumors about her in the bathroom stalls?"

"If she lost friends by going out with you, those people weren't really friends," Gareth concluded.

"You see what's happening to Nancy Wheeler because she's hangin' around Jonathan Byers?"

"He’s zombie kids brother?"

"Zombie kid? Yeah, but that's not the point!" Eddie swiveled back to face them. "Wheeler has like three friends and ever since Barb Holland died it's like the world has gone crazy! If I asked Y/n on date, the world would simply implode."

"Then don't ask her on a date," Jeff sufficed. "Just use the guise of the project as a way to hang out. You did it on Saturday when you went to her house and now do it again but go somewhere else. Take her to the diner, or… or to the park or something!"

Eddie thought on it for a minute. It wasn't a bad plan, per se, but he didn't want his motivations to seem fake. He wanted to spend time with you, get to know you, and if you'd let him, wine and dine you until you realized he was a good guy and you'd give him a chance. Tomorrow was Wednesday and Tina had asked him in the hall that afternoon if he could supply her party on Saturday.

So, he had tomorrow after school; Thursday after school; and Saturday before time with you would run out.

He couldn't guarantee that you'd ever be partners again or that, depending on the grade, you'd be inclined to speak to him after project parenthood was over.

Eddie had to take the chance.

Eddie never showed at your locker Wednesday morning to collect Bilbo from you.

In Allen’s class, you had to discuss alone how the last day and a half had been by yourself because he missed third period, and by the time lunch rolled around, he wasn’t at Hellfire’s table. Every time you glanced at the table out of curiosity as to why, five heads whipped in the opposite direction.

They had been staring. Their gazes fixed upon you like a brilliant gem—the golden statue at the beginning of Raiders of the Lost Ark.

“Why do you keep looking over there?” Nancy broke the silence that settled between the two of you as lunch took hold. She had that same lunch as before, picking off your tray when she got bored of her own food.

“Eddie’s not here,” you shot a look at her then the baby doll beside you. “He was supposed to take Bilbo.”

“Jesus,” she mumbled, “you sound like a real parent, you know that?”

“Well, Barb did always call me the mom of the group.”

Just the mentioned of her name was saddening.

That’s what brought the lull in the first place. Nancy mentioned that she and Steve visited the Holland’s last Friday and, conveniently, forgot to mention it. There was something in her eyes—guilt or sorrow—that existed ever since that night.

Everything felt like one big secret lately.

“Yeah, she did.”

“But I’m kind of pissed about it,” you glanced back at the table and this time, met Gareth’s eyes before he could turn away. “And they keep staring at me too. Do I have something on my face?”

“No,” Nancy snorted a laugh, “maybe they’re concerned about having your attention.”

“I don’t think that’s it,” you scrunched your face in thought as you turned back to her. Nancy had a little smirk playing on her face.

“What?”

She didn’t say anything. Nancy just sat there, smirking into her food like a mad woman.

“What Nance?” You chuckled from pure nervousness. That feeling had been bouncing around inside of you for the last few days and the thought of its reasoning was excitable fear. You couldn’t stop looking for him when he wasn’t here.

“Nothin’…” she trailed off as she tilted her head onto her shoulder. Her big, stormy blues looking at yours with mischief. “There a reason you keep looking over there, though? Never did it before.”

“I told you,” you tried to keep your face as flat and firm as possible, “he’s not here. I have to spend extra time with Bilbo without prior notice and if he had any sense in him, he would have at least called and said he wouldn’t make it in today. I don’t think it’s fair, to be frank, that I have to allocate more of my time with—“

God. You were rambling.

“—Bilbo because that means he isn’t doing the same share of work.”

“And you’re sure it isn’t because you have a huge, fat crush on Eddie Munson?”

Nancy was far from quiet and the girls at the end of the table perked their heads up. Your heart skipped in little beats like a jumping horse.

“I-I don’t like Eddie in that way. He’s my partner,” you defended.

“Mhm,” she hummed, turning her own head to look at the Hellfire table and her investigative instincts told her she was right the moment she caught them all in the act. “The more you tell yourself that, it makes it more true. You’re just denying facts.”

“Nance! It’s not!” You cried, flashing your eyes at the girls at the end as if trying to convince them you weren’t hopelessly in love with the metal head. It made no sense for you to be the one defending your feelings to a girl torn between two very different boys and who also happens to be a year under you.

Why did she get to wear the big girl pants when you squandered in a rain puddle?

“Did something happen? Is that why they’re staring?” She questioned. Nancy was enjoying the way you squirmed because it reminded her of the gossip sessions Barb, you, and herself would have at sleepovers.

“No!” Your eyes blew wide, “nothing happened! I swear—Christ! What is wrong with everyone this week? First, Carol was a straight bitch in health, no one will stop talking to me about what he said to her, and two, you! Why do I have to be in love with someone to care about where they are?”

“So, you are in love with him? Who knew…”

And like fate, you were saved by the bell.

“I’ll take you home, alright?” Nancy stood, zipping up her lunch bag as everyone began to prepare for their afternoon classes. You still sat down, hands gripping the table to the point where your fingertips hurt.

Why was the admission that you found Eddie to be the perfect mix of charming and attractive so difficult?

“But we have to wait for the boys because I have to take them all home too.”

“What? Jonathan can’t?”

“Sick today. But you would have noticed that if you paid attention. Too bad,” Nancy smiled, “Eddie Munson is corrupting your mind.”

“Seems like Steve’s really blowing you off.”

Nancy’s car was actually her mothers. Borrowed for the week because Steve was entirely too consumed with Tammy Thompson, Nancy hadn’t even appeared jostled any time they were seen together. Sure, Steve still snuck up on her in the hallway and planted kisses on her rosy cheeks when he had a second, but the hair had stressed himself out to the point where he and Tammy were tied at the hip.

It did not help the situation to know that Tammy Thompson had heart eyes for the brown-haired beauty.

“He’s just busy,” Nancy leaned against the car with her arms folded across her chest as the two of you stared at the middle school.

Classes for the day had just been let out which meant within fifteen minutes, the smattering of little middle school boys would come bolting out of the school with backpacks barely zipped up and start a fight over who got the window seats. Bilbo was shut inside the car in the passenger seat. Just the sight of the doll made your mind filter back to the fact that Eddie never showed and you were stuck with the doll.

You didn’t want to believe that he had left you scorned when he promised to make this project as equal as possible. But the world wasn’t perfect and pretending that Eddie Munson wouldn’t flake on you halfway through the assignment appeared to be wishful, premature thinking on your part.

“Doesn’t it bother you that he’s spending all his time with Tammy? It’s bullshit if you ask me.”

“It’s for the project,” she bore her eyes into yours, “what’s the difference between Steve and Tammy and you and Eddie?”

“Steve’s your boyfriend, Nance, not Tammy’s.”

“Thank you for that reminder,” Nancy deadpanned, “I didn’t know I had a boyfriend.”

“I’m just saying,” you looked back to the middle school and no kids were coming down the walkway yet.

Maybe it wasn’t your business, but Nancy was your friend. Steve was a halfway decent guy most of the time and while you thought she could do better; it was her decision in the end. You hadn’t meant to put doubt in her mind, yet she gnawed on her bottom lip anxiously in the minutes that passed.

“Do you really think it’s bullshit?” She asked quietly as two sophomore girls passed the bumper of Karen Wheeler’s car. A bell sounded in the distance signaling the end of another day.

“Nance,” you sighed, putting an arm on the top of the car and letting your head fall into the hand that prepared to rest at the top of your head. “I didn’t mean anything by it… I just thought it was rude of him. It’s like you’re not a priority.”

“It’s been like that a lot lately,” she admitted to the ground; eyes downcast to her shoes. “He’s so,” Nancy let out a frustrated groan, “caught up in all of that,” she waved her hand in a circle at the high school building.

“That’s kind of the point of senior year, I suppose,” you shrugged, “but I know you, Nance, and I don’t think you’re happy. I know with everything that happened with Will and Barb and what not screwed a lot of things up…”

“I know, I know.”

“Don’t dwell on it, alright?” You felt guilt wash over you. Nancy’s face was drawn and sad when the thought of the weekend almost there and Halloween just on the other side of Friday should be exciting. “You still going as Joel and Lana?”

Risky Business. Her favorite movie.

Nancy nodded her head and gazed off into the distance. Little ant like shapes began to descend the walkway from the middle school. “Yeah and that reminds me,” she opened the driver's side door and fumbled in her bag for a second before pulling an orange slip from it.

“Tina was handing these out after class. Not sure if you got one,” she handed it to you and you read over the information quickly. “You should come. I know Halloween isn’t like, your favorite, but it could be fun. And if Steve’s an asshole I’ll be happy to have you there.”

“Oh?” You quirked a brow at her, “You want me to be a third wheel to the Stancy show?”

She laughed, a small smile threatening on her face. “No… it would be good for you.”

“To get plastered and smoke a little weed? My dad would lock me in my room if I came home smelling like that.”

“You can stay at my house,” she offered. Mike Wheeler’s loud yelling could be heard twenty feet away.

“What in the world would I go as? It’s a little late to be thinking of a costume now.”

“I don’t know…” she pondered and saw the group of kids barreling toward the car. “Maybe you could go as Sandy, you know, from Grease.”

“Yes,” you rolled your eyes at her as Lucas Sinclair’s feet came thudding toward the two of you and he tapped the trunk of the car first. “Because I look exactly like Olivia Newton-John…” you joked.

“Halloween doesn’t mean you look like them. You just have to embody the character. Get some leather pants… maybe a jacket too and I can get a red ascot for you.”

“Nance,” you complained but Dustin, Mike, and Will quickly followed and slapped their hands on the trunk behind you.

“What are you talking about,” Mike asked out of breath, hands clutching the straps of his backpack.

“Halloween but that’s none of your business,” Nancy told him and tipped her head toward the car, “get in. I have homework.”

You opened the car door for the boys because you had been leaning on it. A scramble of thank you’s, you forgot Bilbo was tucked in the front seat.

“Shit!” Mike laughed loudly and Nancy rolled her eyes, “Whose baby?”

“Y/n’s baby,” Nancy winked at you before slipping into the car and shutting the door; the conversation inside went silent for you. As you shut the door for the boys and walked around the side of the trunk, an eruption of metal music began to invade the parking lot of Hawkins High.

Eddie. Eight hours late to first period.

Groups of kids rapidly moved out of the way as the van sped into the lot. It nearly tipped on itself when the wheel hit the edge of a low concrete planter in its first turn. The sight of it peeved you. The entire day you spent hanging onto Bilbo when it wasn’t your job. Eddie left you hanging onto hope and didn’t help with the climb.

You opened the passenger door the second he pulled into the spot erratically next to you. His window rolled down, the music ceased with a press of a button.

“Don’t leave! Please, don’t leave!” Eddie begged but didn’t get out of his van. You folded your arm over the top of the car door and looked at him. You were still holding the orange invitation to Tina’s party. He had slight bags under his eyes like he didn’t sleep; his hair was barely brushed [per usual], but he had his entire body turned toward the window as he leaned out of it.

“Why shouldn’t I? You said you would take this seriously and it didn’t even take a week before you flaked!”

“I didn’t mean to!” He defended himself, voice a higher pitch than he would have liked. “I was hungover and there was no way I was going to stay awake the entire day so I stayed home. I meant to call but by the time I got up it was already eleven.”

“Who’s that?” You heard Lucas ask Mike as Lucas was the lucky one to get the window seat behind the passenger side.

“I don’t know. Maybe Y/n’s got a boyfriend now.”

“He’s like… dirty,” Lucas cringed and Dustin slapped the back of his head.

“I think he looks cool!”

“You got drunk on a Tuesday night?” You asked him, baffled he had the audacity to do such a thing but he had come to school stoned before—it really wasn’t out of the realm of ‘Eddie.’

“We had a few drinks after the show last night and it got away from me.”

“Well,” you grumbled, “it sounds like you have a problem there, Eddie.”

“I don’t have a problem! It was an accident, I’m sorry!” Never, in his eighteen years on the planet, had Eddie ever apologized to one of his peers. “I’m sorry, Y/n. I promise it wasn’t intentional. I know this project is important.”

“You sure have a funny way of showing that,” Eddie hated the attitude that slipped out with every word. It made the plan he spent all night mulling over feel less and less plausible.

“How’d you even know I’d still be here?”

“Lucky guess. If you weren’t I would have checked your house and if you weren’t there, I’d check Wheeler’s.”

You pursed your lips. “And you know where she lives because...?”

“Well,” Eddie snickered, “someone has to t-pee the rich kids every Halloween.”

Nancy’s head perked up at that.

“Let me make it up to you?” He looked hopeful and that bit away at your anger. The way his eyes pleaded, the frantic way in which he tried to show you that it truly was just an accident and he meant for none of it to happen.

“Maybe it is her boyfriend,” Mike said to Lucas who smiled cheekily.

“He looks so cool…” Dustin followed the comment as Will hummed in agreement. Through the windows of Karen’s car, Eddie could see Nancy Wheeler eavesdropping and a bunch of middle schoolers staring back at him.

“Those kids,” he pointed at them and they all looked away as if he hadn’t just made eye contact with each and every one of them, “they’re the ones in your locker.”

“What?” That hadn’t come out exactly right.

“The picture, in your locker,” Eddie clarified, “the Star Wars kids.”

“Oh,” you nodded, “yeah I babysit some of them.”

“We’re not babies!” Mike yelled at you from the back and Eddie laughed, his smile shooting an arrow through your heart. You hadn’t even noticed he saw the picture in your locker, let alone remembered it.

“So,” he cleared his throat, “You free right now?”

“I have homework… you know, from school today.”

“Then let’s do homework,” Eddie opened his door, hopped out of his car and extended his arm toward the front bench like a prince opening the carriage door for a princess.

“See! Look at him! Freaking wicked!” Dustin laughed and while you weren’t looking at him, you bet that toothless grin was adorable. Nancy shushed them but it didn’t stop Lucas from peering again.

“Is he new like MadMax?”

“No, I’ve seen that van before,” Will commented quietly. Nevertheless, you could still hear them. “I think he’s a drug dealer.”

Will wasn’t wrong—in the slightest—but before the boys could get any more curious about Eddie, you grabbed Bilbo off the seat and slung your bag over your shoulder while looking at Nancy.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Mhm,” she hummed, keeping her lips together knowingly, “don’t do drugs.”

“See!” Will said and Dustin leaned back in his seat. You looked back at them and they went silent. Through the passenger window, Eddie was hanging onto the door with one hand and the other tucked itself into the pocket of his leather jacket.

“He your boyfriend, Y/n?” Mike questioned, “Nancy said you’ve been acting weird.”

“Oh my God,” you looked at Nancy again and she shook her head.

“I never said that.”

“Keep your noses out of my business, ‘Kay, twerps?” You scolded them to which they nodded, but Dustin’s devious smile meant it would never end. You shut the door as Eddie extended his arm again.

“After you, mama.”

For the first few minutes, Eddie didn’t even turn his radio back on. It was quiet—like the lingering silence that had fallen between you and Nancy not twenty minutes before. The only difference now was that it was just you and Eddie.

Just you and Eddie.

It wasn’t as though the silence was completely silent; the kind that made your ears ring and made you feel like you were underwater. The van itself was loud, in need of a tune or two, and his fingers tapped on the steering wheel and open window too. Bilbo laid between you on the van’s fuzzy seats. It smelt like cigarettes and weed, but the little tree that hung from the rear view mirror smelt like pine.

“So,” you watched the forests beside the school pass by quickly, “where are you taking me?”

He looked over, the hand that was resting out the open window came back in and ran over his chin. “You really wanna know?”

Pondering for a second, you decided that a surprise wouldn’t be so bad. Eddie was harmless—as harmless as a doe-eyed drug dealer could be—and never struck you as a guy that would intentionally put you in any danger. He was apologetic and soft spoken when he most needed to be.

“No. It’s fine.”

“You and Wheeler babysit those kids after school or something?” He asked to keep the conversation alive. He didn’t want the ride to the destination to be silent. Eddie wanted to know everything about you and silence defeated that purpose. “I see them ride their bikes to school sometimes.”

“Two of them I do,” you responded, watching as he nodded his head slowly and took in every piece of information you gave. “Nancy has a little brother, Mike, and the other one is Will Byers.”

“Right,” He felt a little embarrassed by the fact he had referred to the kid as ‘Zombie Kid’ to Gareth and Jeff even if you would never know of it.

“They’re good kids. They’re the ones who play D&D,” Eddie recalled your dad mentioning that, “Mike’s the DM.”

“You know more about D&D than you let on there, mama?” He smirked, stopping at the stop light like he was supposed to.

“They try to teach me every time but I can’t grasp it. I’m more of a monopoly kind of girl.”

“Monopoly girl…” he ticked.

“I think Bilbo has taken after me that way,” you joked and smiled. He loved the sight. “Pretty sure he’ll be a monopoly kid.”

“Over my dead body,” Eddie mumbled quietly, “I thought you said he wouldn’t grow old? Would never have memories?”

“Changed my mind…” you diverted your eyes to the front and watched the light. “You really were hungover?”

“As much as the kids at school like to brag about theirs, I wouldn’t openly admit that I was… still am a little bit,” Eddie laughed but knew the lingering effects of his overconsumption were long gone. “I didn’t mean to leave you high and dry there.”

The sincerity in his voice was hard to escape from. Like before, as he half hung out the window to convince you he was truly sorry, Eddie wasn’t wearing a mask. He wasn’t pretending to gloat about getting drunk after one of his shows and being a show-off by not coming to school the next day. It was a tone you had been catching often in his voice when he spoke to you. The same could not be said for the way he interacted with Hellfire or the rest of the lot at school… it was nice and non-combative against the world shaming him for being who he was.

“I believe you,” you told him as the light turned green, “Sorry for being a bitch about it.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” Eddie scoffed in a second of disbelief, “you should be mad. I broke a promise that I made to you and being upset about it isn’t wrong.”

“I didn’t mean to imply you had a drinking problem or anything…”

“Hey,” you looked over at him. Eddie shook his head, eyes telling you it wasn’t a big deal. “It’s fine.”

You still felt bad about it because the comment wasn’t something you meant. People upset by things beyond their control often say things they don’t mean and the last thing you wanted Eddie to think about you was that you thought he was a burnout—one of those stoner drunks who would never graduate high school.

“Well, I still didn’t mean it.”

“Okay,” he said quietly. In his mind, he wondered if he should admit why he had even taken up the night that way. Gareth and Jeff had gone to school perfectly fine yet there he was, blocking out the sunlight with his sheets as it burned his eyes. The thoughts that ran through his mind pounded harder than the alcohol he gladly chugged.

But by some unimaginable force, you mentioned the two first.

“At lunch today, your Hellfire table kept looking at me.”

“O-oh?” He stuttered knowing the reason they were looking. In his drunken stupor, Eddie had engaged in some… flower-y language to describe his feelings about you.

“Do you know why?” A part of you wanted to think he did. That maybe he talked about you to them and what you saw in your mind wasn’t an illusion of your own making.

“Why they were looking at you?” Eddie stalled. He focused on the road ahead of him and was very thankful that the park Jeff had suggested wasn’t farther away. You nodded and gave a gentle hum.

“No, not really… maybe they thought you’d be mad I wasn’t there.”

“That doesn’t constitute staring at me for a half hour.”

“I’ll tell ‘em to knock it off tomorrow. You don’t have to worry about Gareth’s eyes drilling a hole through the back of your pretty little head anymore.”

Pretty.

It was passive but it was there.

You settled with his answer but a pit grew. There was no longer a part of you that wanted him to admit that he talked about you and their curiosity was what caused them to keep looking. All you wanted was that. Not a little, not some, but all of you. The rest of the ride was quiet and when he pulled into the small parking lot beside Hawkins Memorial Park, he grabbed Bilbo and opened his door.

“We have arrived,” he lowered his voice dramatically.

“The park?”

“No, it’s the Shire.”

“Funny,” you panned, grabbing your bag and getting out of the van where fresh, unpolluted air filled your senses. Eddie walked ahead of you and while your mind traveled to the idea that everything was awkward now, Eddie was thinking of how he was going to slap the shit out of Gareth when he dropped you off later. He stopped at a picnic table in the middle of the park beside a giant tree and set Bilbo down on the top.

“Tell me,” he said as he sat down, “How was the dear little Bilbo for you? He say he miss his dad because I missed him.”

He was trying to break that tension again. By doing so, it only made your heart feel more giddy. The effort; Eddie was trying.

“He talked a lot about you,” You followed his movement and sat across from him while unzipping your bag and taking out your calculus homework. “In the last twenty-four hours, he learned how to speak and sign at the same time so, we’ve got a pretty brilliant little guy right there.”

We’ve.

“And what homework did Clay assign?” He picked up the sheet as soon as you set it down. You didn’t complain when he took it.

Eddie technically had already taken the class. It was one of the only subjects he considered himself to be a true fan of—and it was probable that D&D played a large part in that. All the calculations and fanfare that surrounded it… it made classes like math easier.

“Chain Rule…” he trailed off, brain racking itself to remember what it was. He was rather good at math and English—it was science and history that always caught him in a fix.

“I’m lost in there,” you laughed, embarrassed that calculus was beyond your skill set, “I can’t tell which lines are which or where the graphs are supposed to go… it’s like the numbers flip the minute I see them.”

“Do you need help? I think I can manage this?” Eddie returned the sheet and touched the textbook that didn’t set aflame the moment his fingers skimmed the cover. His ring clad hand searched for the pages on the unit and he let out a “voilà” when he found it.

“Have you taken this?”

“A year ago but I’m not as bad at math as everyone thinks.”

“I never said I thought you were bad at math.”

Eddie glanced up from the book. The wind was blowing slightly, the leaves changing their colors around the two of you and it was picture perfect; straight out of a movie. John Hughes should have teleported there because you’d look amazing as the subject of his next film—not that Eddie would ever admit he had seen a Hughes film before. Only Rocky Horror and Evil Dead for him.

“Actually,” Eddie swallowed hard and you could see the way his Adam’s apple bobbed, “I had the privilege of sitting next to Harrington for that class.”

Steve too was good at math. He had taken it a whole year before you did. You remember him complaining about Clay when he asked to see your schedule in September.

“He hasn’t changed a bit.”

“No,” you shook your head, “still the same old hair. But not the best hair.”

“Don’t let Steve hear you say that,” Eddie laughed, two little dimples on the sides of his smile forming. “Who is it then? Who has the best hair?”

“You,” the moment it left your lips you couldn’t regret it. It was the truth. Eddie Munson had the best hair and it drove you insane. All you wanted to do was run your fingers through it and brush it carefully away from his eyes. “You have the best hair.”

He hoped you did not see the way his cheeks went red. Eddie never blushed, he was never flattered but it worked on him. Instead of letting it simmer inside of him, he dramatically tossed one side of his hair over his shoulder.

“Me? You’re just sayin’ that so I do your homework,” words that he had never said before.

“No,” you chuckled and the sound opened his heart. Cracked it right open. “It’s true! You do have very… nice hair for a guy.”

“For a guy…” he whispered and looked at you again.

“Yes, for a guy. Obviously dear little Bilbo has the best hair,” Bilbo left the spot on the table as you picked him up; jokingly caressing the plastic black hairs on its plastic head. Eddie rolled his eyes and tapped the textbook.

“Yeah, Yeah,” he said, “You wanna finish your homework by the time the sun sets or what?”

He didn’t want the sun to set and neither did you. When daylight ran out, it meant the day was over and even if you had only a few hours together because he missed the day, it would never be enough for what you both wanted.

It would simply have to do for now.

The clunky van parked in your driveway long after the sun had set. Eddie promised he’d take Bilbo for the night and the rest of tomorrow before leaving you with him tomorrow night. The doll hadn’t made a noise all afternoon and it turned out to be a miracle.

“Thanks for the ride,” you smiled gently at him as the only light that trickled into the van was that of the two sconces that sat on either side of your garage door. “And for the homework help.”

“Never thought I’d hear anyone say that,” he leaned his head back against the headrest and you gripped the door handle but didn’t pull.

“And thanks for sticking up for me the other day in class… I don’t think I ever thanked you for that.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” he said quietly. Eddie didn’t know what washed over him. He had slept all day and wasn’t overly tired, yet he could just close his eyes there, knowing you were next to him and not afraid of his presence. Even with the knowledge that your parents were just beyond the walls of the house was comforting. He was content. Maybe for the first time ever.

“But I do…” you murmured. His eyes scanned over you, your bag. He saw the little orange slip that you had been holding when he rolled up to Hawkins High earlier. Eddie knew it was the invitation to Tina’s party because she had handed one to him yesterday with the promise about dealing. No one talked to him outside of his circle unless they needed something. He only agreed because he needed the money, but now an idea sparked in his mind.

“You going to Tina’s party on Saturday?”

He saw your eyes flash surprise, “Nancy’s making me go. Third wheel to her and Steve.”

“And you’re going as…?” He wondered and you looked at your house as if you didn’t want to tell him.

“It’s stupid,” you said.

“I’m sure it’s not stupid.”

“Nancy picked it out.”

“Well,” he squeaked, “maybe it is stupid then but I won’t know unless you tell me.”

“Sandy, from Grease. It was her idea and I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m not even Sandy material.”

Eddie scoffed, head lolling forward in the direction of the house before turning back in you. His head was still flush against the headrest. “You are the epitome of Sandy, mama. Girl next door…”

“That’s Nancy,” you breathed out, “I think I’m a Frenchie who wants to be a Rizzo. Are you going?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, nodding his head in a defined manner, “Don’t know what I’ll go as.”

“Think about it, let me know. We can laugh at ourselves before anyone else can.”

“Yeah, okay,” he replied with the reminder you claimed to be a ‘third wheel’ at the front of his mind. “You don’t have to be a third wheel though.”

“No?” You rested the top of your head on your backpack as your arms wrapped around it. You could sit here for hours just looking at him like this. “You know something I don’t?”

“I’ll be there so you can hang out with me.”

“Ah,” you let out a light gasp, “no more third-wheeling?”

“Nope.”

“Is that your way of asking me to go with you without wearing matching costumes?”

You don’t know where that question came from. It weaseled its way from the back of your brain and straight out of your mouth. But like he did with Jeff’s suggestion, Eddie took that question and ran with it.

“Yeah, I guess it is.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, “I’ll be going with Nance and Steve but you can take me home so long as you don’t get too high or get too drunk.”

He would go sober if it meant having you by his side for a second longer.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, mama.”

Nearly a week after Gareth was scared shitless by Eddie Munson knocking on his window at an ungodly hour, he kept the blinds closed to relieve himself of the embarrassment that it may happen again. Eight-thirty on a Thursday evening, he was reading his English book when three knocks sounded on his window and made him jump out of his skin.

He lifted those blinds with a fury and scowled at Eddie who was outside of his window once again.

“What the hell do you want this time?” Gareth screeched in a whisper at him.

“You’ll never fuckin’ believe it, man,” Eddie laughed as he gripped the windowsill with antsy fingers. “I think I’ve got my shot.”

“What? She actually agreed to go on a date with you?”

“Kind of, yes!” Eddie couldn’t really believe it. Neither could Gareth.

“You’re shitting me. No way did she say yes to you. She looked like she wanted to bolt from the lunchroom every time I looked over there.”

Eddie shook his head at Gareth, not caring if the kid believed him or not. “Oh, yeah, about that?” He rose an eyebrow and grew serious quickly. Gareth’s face fell.

“Don’t do it again, yeah? She caught on and thinks you guys are creepy. Don’t stare.”

“If she thinks we’re creepy, then why in the world did she agree to do anything with you?”

“I’m not the creepy one, Gareth the Great,” Eddie bounded off the window and spun around like a love sick fool with unsteady legs. “But I’ve almost got the girl and on Halloween, I’m gonna ask her on a real date. Like all that fancy shit and stuff… a real date.”

Part Three Here

Tag List for Oh, Baby [CLOSED]: @bakugouswh0r3 @scenesofobx @angelbabyivy @authorlovers @softspaceboibrian @clincallyonline17 @captaincarmel164 @spottedzebrasinpartyhats @empty-and-nameless @mqus0n @coolnamestillpending @onlyangel-444 @langaslefthairstrand @josephquinnlov3r @eyeforissues @non-existent-being @2dmenenthusiast @copycatkillerfics @dotslabyrinth

(If your not getting the notification for being tagged, I’ve done all I can! If there is an error, let me know!)

If you have been asked to be tagged, please support the work by liking and reblogging or providing your thoughts! It makes me a better writer and I love hearing from all of you.

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things season 2 #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #x female reader #joseph quinn #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you

3K notes · View notes

hintsofhoney · 2 years

Text

Movie Night

Pairing(s): Steve Harrington x Reader x Billy Hargrove

Summary: You and your best friend, Steve, have a movie night planned, but things don't go the way they're supposed to when Billy shows up.

Tags: 18+, smut, threesome, degradation kink, praise kink, Billy’s an asshole, Steve is protective, Eiffel Tower, p in v, oral, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

Word Count: 4.7k

A/N: Don’t know where this came from, but I’m glad it did. I have a lot more in the works for Stranger Things, so keep an eye out! The ‘Are you getting fucked by stupid?’ line in this fic was directly stolen from Homelander; all credits to the writers of ‘The Boys’ for that one. Thank you to my biggest cheerleaders, @deangirl93 and @treat-winchesterswith-kindness, for beta-ing, I love you both to the moon and back! Hope you all enjoy the filth.

You can also read me on Ao3!

STRANGER THINGS MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

“I’ll fucking kill him.”

“Steve –”

“I swear to God, Y/N, I’ll murder him with my own two hands.”

Steve was pacing back and forth in your kitchen as you watched from a barstool at the counter. You didn’t particularly care that Billy had taken nude photos of you; you had the idea first, after all. But apparently he had a whole lot to say about them in the local gym’s locker room – which you also didn’t really mind – but Steve certainly did.

“The way he talked about you, like you’re just some… some thing to fuck. God, I should have laid one on him right –”

“Steve!” you yelled, pulling him out of his murder spiral. He stopped pacing and looked at you, his hands untangling from his hair – the famous Harrington hair – and returning to his pockets.

“What?” he questioned blankly.

“Look, you’re my best friend in the whole world, alright? And I appreciate that you care so much about me, but Billy and I… he’s as much of a toy for me as I am for him.”

Steve’s face scrunched up in disgust. “Okay, gross.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes. “All I’m trying to say is it’s not a big deal, alright? It really doesn’t bother me, so don’t let it bother you.”

“Don’t let it bother me? Don’t let it – I’m not going to let anyone – not even your,” he motioned vaguely with his hands, trying to think of the right word, “boy toy, Billy fucking Hargrove, talk about you like that. And you shouldn’t either, it’s dehumanizing.”

You chuckled as you slid off the barstool and walked over to him. You placed your hands on his cheeks – they were still cold from the outside chill of the November air; he had walked to your place as soon as he had left the gym – and smiled; your forearm against his chest picking up on his rapid heartbeat. “Steve, whatever Billy has said about me cannot possibly be more dehumanizing than anything he’s already done to me.”

Anger flashed over his face before he realized you meant sexually, making him jump back in horror, his features scrunching up in repulsion. “Great Y/N, thanks for that. I’ll be sleeping again, never.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’ll be thinking about how badly you wish you were doin’ things to me instead of Billy,” you teased, sticking your tongue out at him. You liked to think that you and Steve’s flirtatious teasing was the backbone of your friendship. It was how you two met – Steve made a comment about your ass one day after you got partnered up in science class, something like, ‘I’m glad we’re sitting next to each other now, but the view from behind isn’t too bad either’, accompanied with his classic Harrington smirk – and when you shot back with something snarky instead of dropping to your knees in the middle of the classroom like most girls would have because let’s face it – he’s Steve fucking Harrington – he decided you were different, so he stuck around. Three years later and that dynamic was still going strong, even after high school.

Steve coughed, seemingly caught off guard by your comment. “Yeah, you wish,” he bit back – his usual response when he didn’t have anything better to say. “Still good for tonight?”

“Yes, of course. Speaking of, I’m gonna be late for work,” you sighed, checking your watch and grabbing your purse off the kitchen counter. You gave Steve a quick kiss on the cheek and patted it, adding a, “Please don’t go looking for ways to kill Billy Hargrove when I’m gone.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, alright, whatever. But I don’t like him, Y/N.”

You chuckled. “Neither do I, but man, is he a good –”

“NO! Get out! Go to work!” Steve exclaimed, ushering you towards the front door. “Go, get.” He practically shoved you out the door as you laughed, shaking your head as he slammed it shut behind you.

“Such a prude, Harrington,” you said to no one but yourself as you made your way to your car.

Steve had to sort himself out. Not with his downstairs brain, no. He wished that would be enough. But he had to actually sit down and think about his feelings for you. Which he didn’t want to do, but God, when you said things like, ‘you’ll be thinking about how badly you wish you were doin’ things to me’, it kind of made it impossible not to. Because now he was sitting on your couch, his hands over his face as he thought about all the things he wanted to do to you. All the things that Billy fucking Hargrove was probably getting to do, and God – why were you with that prick anyway? Sure, it wasn’t exclusive – everyone knew that Billy Hargrove didn’t do exclusive or feelings or girlfriends. Steve groaned, letting himself fall onto his side, his head resting on the arm of the couch. Maybe he just needed to man up and make a move. The two of you have been flirting for three goddamn years.

“You’re fucking killing me, Y/N,” he mumbled. “Killin’ me.”

Work was fine, as it always was. Stocking grocery shelves at Melvald’s wasn’t anyone’s dream job, but it allowed you to move out of your parent’s house, so you weren’t complaining. Plus, Ms. Byers was always good company, and almost always willing to cover for you thanks to all the times that you watched the register when her and Bob would sneak to the back.

“Well, well, well,” a familiar voice came from behind you, causing you to put down the package of diapers that you were shelving. You turned around slowly, knowing exactly who it was and suddenly feeling very self-conscious in your incredibly unflattering Melvald’s General uniform.

“Billy,” you greeted with a smile. Your eyes wandered to the six pack in his hand. “Is, uh – do you need someone to check you out?”

“‘m checkin’ you out right now.” Smooth. He always was. “Uniform’s cute on you.”

“Oh,” you blushed, waving him off. “Stop. It’s awful.”

He chuckled. “I can help you take it off sometime, I don’t mind.” Jesus, why was he like this? How was he so good at making you a puddle? “What d’ya say, baby? You free after you get off? Max is having her stupid fuckin’ friends over, so it’ll have to be your place, but –”

“Steve will be at my place,” you replied, quicker than you meant to.

“Harrington?” Billy asked, an eyebrow raised in confusion.

You nodded.

“You two together or something?”

“No! God, no. He’s just my best friend. But, uh, we have a movie night planned tonight, so…”

“I like movies,” he replied matter-of-factly, taking a step closer to you. Your back hit the shelves behind you and you flinched as Billy set down his beer on one of them, effectively caging you in between his arms. He leaned in, his lips against your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. “Maybe I’ll even finger fuck you while your sittin’ right next to Harrington. I can be discreet. Wonder if you can be quiet…”

You gulped, willing away the arousal you could feel starting to grow between your legs.

“Hell, Harrington’s even welcome to join in,” he continued. “He’s got such a hard-on for you, Y/N, it’s fuckin’ embarassing.”

“W-what?” you asked. “N-no, he doesn’t.” Pull it the fuck together, Y/N. You were stuttering and you didn’t know why. You didn’t know why the implication that Steve had a crush on you excited you so much, or why the proposal of a threesome with your fuck buddy and your best friend made your brain glitch.

Billy laughed. “Are you gettin’ fucked by stupid, Y/N?”

You glared at him, his question forcing you to get a hold of yourself so you could respond with, “I’m getting fucked by you, not really much of a difference.”

You watched his jaw clench, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of the shelf beside you. It was only for a moment – a wave of violence washing over him, gone as quickly as it had come. He got that way every time you talked back to him, but you knew he’d never hurt you. People said ‘Billy Hargrove doesn’t have a nice streak’, but he certainly had one where you were concerned. You’d push his buttons and it just made him rougher in bed, so really, it was a win for you.

He chuckled and dropped his head briefly, shaking it as he processed what you had said. He leaned in one more time, so close that you were praying no one you knew would walk by, lest you be known as ‘the girl who let Billy Hargrove give her a hickey in the middle of the baby supplies aisle at Melvald’s while she was on the clock’, because that’s what it must’ve looked like. “You’ll be getting fucked by a lot more tonight,” he whispered, and you suppressed a whine, because that’s what he did to you. He made you want to drop to your knees in the middle of aisle six while you were at work and let him have his way with you. Fuck him.

He pulled away slowly, grabbed his beer off the shelf, had the audacity to smirk, and then he fucking winked. “See you soon, princess.”

You watched him walk away, his jeans doing more than just favors for his ass, effectively stunned into silence. You must’ve spaced out for a minute or two, because it was Ms. Byers’ voice that pulled you back to reality.

“Are you okay, honey?”

“W-what? Oh, um, yeah. Yeah, just spaced out for a second,” you replied, flustered as you reached for the box of diapers on the ground.

“Okay. I’ll be at the register if you need me.”

“Got it, thanks Ms. Byers,” you smiled. You resumed stocking shelves, Billy’s words a broken record in your mind. Hell, Harrington’s even welcome to join in… He’s got such a hard-on for you. It’s not like you hadn’t thought about Steve in… that way before. He’s Steve – one look at him is a one-way ticket to dirty thoughts in anyone’s mind. But he was also your best friend, and there’s no coming back from crossing that line if things go to shit. You tried to will away the images of Billy and Steve taking you together that your brain was starting to conjure up. Billy’s cock down your throat as Steve pounded into you from behind, Billy’s mouth on your –

“Ow, shit,” you gasped, as the box of diapers fell out of your hand and onto your foot, pulling you out of your fantasy. You picked it up and placed it in its rightful spot, taking a deep breath before continuing, muttering curses at Billy fucking Hargrove under your breath.

“Don’t hate me,” was the first thing you said as you walked through the door, Steve already comfortable on your couch with a bowl of popcorn in hand. You unwrapped your scarf from around your neck and hung it on the coat rack, before toeing off your shoes and sinking down into the cushions next to your best friend.

“Why wou’ I ha’e you?” he mumbled through a mouthful of popcorn before checking his watch. “You’re back early.”

You took a deep breath. Might as well rip off the Band-Aid. “Billy’s coming over tonight.” You winced as you waited for his response.

“You better be fuckin’ with me,” he replied, glaring at you.

“I wish I was.”

Steve set the popcorn down on the coffee table and turned towards you, his arms folded over his chest. “Well, do you want me to leave?”

“What?” you asked, confused. “No, he’s just joining us for movie night.”

Steve snorted. “Billy fuckin’ Hargrove at movie night? Without any other intentions? Yeah, sure, alright.”

“Oh, c’mon, Steve! I know you had to practically fist fight Robin to get first dibs on this movie, can’t you just put up with Billy for one night?”

“So I can watch you get fingered under a blanket while you’re sitting right next to me? ‘Oh, Billy! God, that feels so –’” he was interrupted by a pillow to the face.

“Shut up. Like you wouldn’t like to watch, Harrington.”

He stared at you for a second, chewing on his lip like he was debating if he should say the words he was thinking. “And what if I would?”

The tension in the air became palpable in an instant. He was joking, this is just how the two of you talked – so why did it feel so different this time? You swallowed, a pit suddenly growing in your stomach, very different to the one Billy had left you with earlier. You chuckled softly, avoiding his eyes, because this conversation was suddenly feeling very much not like joking around. You debated on what to say for a moment or two, before finally settling on something you’d usually bite back with. “Then I guess I’d just have to put on a show for you, huh?”

It came out sounding far more serious than you intended it to, but on the other hand, it’s not like you were entirely joking. Billy’s words played through your mind again. He’s got such a hard-on for you, Y/N, it’s fuckin’ embarassing. You thought about glancing down; Steve’s jeans left little to the imagination, you’d be able to tell. But would that be too obvious?

“Guess you would.” God, he was still going. Maybe Billy had been right after all.

You flinched when you heard a knock on the door, thankful for something to break the tension, even if it was about to get a whole lot worse with Billy in the room. You got up, taking a deep breath before turning to look down at Steve.

“Be nice,” you warned, an accusatory finger pointed at him.

“That depends on him,” he bit back with a grin.

You rolled your eyes and made your way to the front door, opening it to a smirking Billy with the same six pack in hand that he had at the store. You didn’t even have time to greet him before he strolled in, forcing you to step aside as you held the door open.

“What’re we watchin’?” he asked, before noticing Steve on the couch. “Harrington,” he greeted with an unceremonious nod.

“Hargrove.”

“The Brain,” you answered Billy’s question in an attempt to retain some normalcy, the tension in the air from earlier a hundred times worse now.

Billy nodded. He didn’t care one way or the other what was playing on the TV – you knew that, he knew that, Steve knew that. Whatever it was, Billy was going to be occupied with… other activities.

Steve’s glare was unwavering as he watched Billy walk over to the coffee table, set down his beer, and sink into the couch. You followed, sitting down in between them, your small couch forcing your shoulders to touch theirs.

“You gonna play the movie, or what, Harrington?” Billy asked after a few moments of silence, seemingly oblivious to the massive amount of tension in the room. Steve kept staring him down, his stone-cold expression unwavering. “You got a problem or somethin’!?” Billy questioned.

Steve finally cracked a smile – not the good kind. “Yeah, I do, Hargrove.”

“Steve –”

Billy stood up. “Do something about it, then.”

Steve followed suit, coming face to face with him. He knew Billy was asking for a fight, and you only hoped that Steve wasn’t going to throw the first punch. “I’m not gonna hit you,” he finally said.

“Then we don’t have a problem,” Billy smirked, “Now, I’m real sorry if you’re jealous ‘cause your girl over here decided she wanted to be my little whore instead of yours but –”

You stood up as soon as you saw Steve’s hand ball up into a fist, putting yourself between them. “Steve,” you started calmly, “it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not fuckin’ okay, Y/N! Why do you let him talk about you like that!?”

Your breath hitched when you suddenly felt Billy’s hand snake around your waist, pulling your back to his chest. His lips were brushing against your ear as he answered Steve’s question. “‘Cause she likes it, Harrington.” And just like that, you were a puddle again. “Don’t you, baby?”

You nodded in response to Billy, but your eyes were on Steve. He gulped as he watched Billy’s hand travel up your body, cupping your breast over your work shirt – the same one Billy said he’d help take off earlier that day. You weren’t sure why you were allowing him to touch you like this in front of Steve, but you didn’t want him to stop. And it’s not like Steve was looking away. No, Steve was biting his lower lip and watching every single move.

“C’mon, Harrington,” Billy egged on, slipping his hand under your shirt now, revealing your bare stomach to your best friend.

Steve’s eyes met with yours in a way that was asking for permission. You didn’t know what was happening, or how the tension switched from uneasy to hot and heavy so fast, but you didn’t care. All you knew was that you had been thinking about this since Billy had put the thought in your head, and you wanted it. Wanted them.

“You really gonna make me put on a show?” you quipped, giving Steve the green light.

He huffed a nervous laugh, running his hand down his face in a last attempt to stop himself, because God, he wanted to make you feel good, too. But he also wanted you to be sure.

You whimpered as Billy pinched your nipple, unsure of when his hand got there, but you weren’t complaining. You glanced down at the bulge in Steve’s pants, moaning softly as you felt Billy’s against your ass. You reached out your hand for Steve, and he took it hesitantly, allowing you to guide him to your hip.

“Y/N…” he breathed, and fuck, you wanted him so bad.

You nodded again. “Please, Steve.”

And just like that, his resolve snapped. He stepped closer, his hands exploring all the places that Billy’s weren’t. Billy grabbed underneath your chin and turned your head, kissing you rough and hard and sloppy. Steve took the opportunity to attack your exposed neck, his hands working on undoing your pants as he sucked bruises onto your skin. Billy tweaked your nipple again, and you moaned into his mouth.

“That’s a good girl, such a good fuckin’ slut,” he praised, as he let your face go and moved his hands down to work on the buttons on the front of your shirt. You let your head fall back onto his shoulder before you felt cold air hit your core, realizing that Steve already had your jeans down to your ankles, along with your underwear. He pulled them all the way off as Billy did the same with your shirt, leaving you in nothing but your bra for about five seconds before Billy took that off, too. His hands came back to your boobs, and you looked down at Steve who was placing your right leg over his shoulder as he kissed up your inner calf. His eyes met yours and he smirked, because neither him nor Billy had really done anything and you were already looking halfway to fucked out.

“You okay?” he asked sweetly, as his lips found your inner thigh.

You nodded, because it’s all you could bring yourself to do. You watched as he worked his way up your leg, stopping when he got to your core. You squealed as Billy roughly grabbed one of your ass cheeks, giving it a tight squeeze, reminding you that he was still there. You could feel his lips on the other side of your neck, and if you were covered in hickies tomorrow you would kill them both.

“Christ, you have such a pretty fuckin’ cunt, Y/N,” Steve said, and he seemed to be in awe, the way he was looking at it. You threw your head back onto Billy’s shoulder, leaning on him for balance.

“Then fucking do something about it,” you said through gritted teeth, getting overwhelmed by the pressure you were feeling in your core and frustrated that no one had done anything about it yet. You heard Billy chuckle in your ear – deep and low and dangerous. Like you were in trouble.

“That’s not a very nice way to ask for what you want,” he chastised, pinching your nipple hard, causing you to yelp.

You lifted your head and looked down at Steve, who didn’t seem to give a rat’s ass how or even if you asked; he was on a mission and he wanted to finish it. But he was looking back at you, expectant, almost, and so you did what felt right. “Please, Steve. I want you,” you begged, and he tilted his head, feigning confusion. So, he decided he liked playing Billy’s little games, after all.

“Want me to what?” he asked, eyebrows raised, his eyes still on yours as he got closer to your core. He was such a fucking tease, you could strangle him for it.

“Eat me out, Steve, please,” you begged, because to hell with your dignity. You lost that the minute you started sleeping with Billy, anyway.

He smirked before happily obliging, his tongue exploring your folds, his hands gripping your thighs. You turned your head, your lips meeting with Billy’s again, and he smiled into the kiss as his hand traveled down your spine, your ass, and to your pussy, grunting in approval at the wetness between your legs. Steve’s tongue came to flick at your clit – expertly, might you add – causing you to attempt to move your hips away from his muscle. But Billy was as solid as a brick wall, and he used the opportunity to slip two fingers inside of you from behind.

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned, Billy’s fingers working in tandem with the movements of Steve’s tongue, the coil in your abdomen tightening.

“Yeah, that feel good, baby?” Billy asked. “You gonna cum on Harrington’s tongue? On my fingers?” He lightly flicked his thumb over your nipple with his free hand, bringing you to the brink of a release.

You let out noise that was halfway between a moan and a scream as Steve wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking lightly. Billy’s fingers were alternating between scissoring you open and thrusting in and out, and before you knew it you were cumming all over them, and all over Steve’s tongue, as your orgasm washed over you.

“Good girl,” Billy praised. “There’s a good little slut.”

They continued their ministrations as you came down from your high, Steve gently taking your leg off his shoulder once he was sure you’d be able to stand. You barely had a moment to breathe before Billy was spinning you around, causing you to whimper from the loss of his fingers. He sat down on the couch, his back against the arm, one leg stretched out in front of him while the other remained on the floor, pulling you onto the cushions in front of him so you were on your knees, in between his legs. You already knew what to do and immediately started on his belt, feeling a dip in the couch behind you. It was Steve’s breath on your ear now as you unbuttoned Billy’s jeans, his hands kneading your breasts as you unzipped Billy’s pants.

“I still don’t like the way he talks to you,” Steve whispered, “but I’ll give it to him. This is nothing if not slutty.” You couldn’t hold back the smile that came to your lips as you pulled Billy’s jeans down as far as they’d go – which was just far enough for his cock to spring free, considering the position he was sitting in. You reached for it, stroking him lightly, as Steve’s hand wrapped gently around your neck. “And I can’t say that I hate it,” he added. You purposefully ground against him, eliciting a groan from his lips, before you leaned forward and took Billy in your mouth. You always loved the way his cock felt on your tongue; heavy and soft, and just big enough to leave a nice ache in your jaw the next morning. Your pussy was fully pressed up against Steve’s clothed erection, his hands on your hips as he watched you take Billy all the way down your throat.

“Fuck, Y/N. Look at me, baby,” Billy moaned, his hand tangling in your hair as he pushed you further down on his dick, holding you there. “God, you look so fuckin’ pretty with my cock in your mouth. You want Harrington to fuck you?” he asked. You nodded around him, best you could without gagging. “Yeah, you want him to fuck that pretty little cunt of yours while you suck my cock?”

“Mhmm,” you mumbled, tears forming in your eyes because he hadn’t let you up to breathe yet.

“You heard her, Harrington,” Billy said, continuing to look at you.

“Are you sure, Y/N?” Steve asked – ever the gentleman – and Billy finally let you up so you could answer.

“Yes, fucking fuck me, Harrington,” you replied between catching your breath. Billy gave you a few seconds before pushing you back down on his cock again, and you could hear the zipper of Steve’s pants behind you, his cock running through your folds moments later.

“Shit, you’re fuckin’ dripping, babe,” he commented, and you moaned at the praise as Billy began using your mouth as a fuck toy, bobbing your head up and down his dick. The next time he pushed you all the way down and held you there, Steve used the opportunity to enter you, his cock stretching you open in ways Billy’s fingers never could. You whined around Billy’s cock, the vibrations sending shivers up his spine as he let his head fall back, a long, drawn out, “fuuuuck”, from Steve filling the room as he bottomed out inside you. Billy started bobbing your head again, and as soon as Steve started thrusting at the same time, you were a goner. Tears ran down your cheeks, Steve’s cock hitting your sweet spot with every thrust, Billy’s moans only spurring you on. You felt like your soul had left your body, like you were floating in some plane of ecstasy, never wanting any of it to end. Billy reached down to give attention to your nipples, Steve kept smacking your ass, and you felt like jello. You wrapped your hand around Billy’s shaft, working in tandem with your mouth, coaxing him closer and closer to his release. Steve’s thrusts were getting erratic and sloppy, and you knew he was close. You were feeling a second orgasm coming on, and God, you wanted to cum around his cock so badly while Billy came in your mouth.

“Oh, shit,” Billy gasped, his breaths short and quick. “Shit, shit, oh, fuck.”

“Fuck, Y/N,” Steve started behind you, “Fuck, oh my – fuuuck.”

You felt Billy’s cock twitch, and then Steve’s, and then they were both filling you up from either end as a second wave of pleasure washed over you. You swallowed down everything Billy had to offer, your pussy clenching around Steve’s cock, your arms shaking as you tried to hold yourself up, eventually allowing yourself to collapse onto Billy’s stomach. Nothing but heavy breathing filled the room for a few minutes, before Steve gingerly pulled out of you and helped you off of Billy, allowing him to sit up as well. Steve handed you your discarded shirt, which you promptly put back on, followed by your underwear that was at your feet. And then the three of you just sat there, staring at the blank TV that was supposed to have been used tonight.

“That was…” you began, not sure what to say, but also glad that the tension from earlier was nowhere to be found.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed.

Billy chuckled. “You two,” he began, zipping up his pants and buckling his belt, “are fuckin’ prudes.” He reached over, grabbing a bottle of beer from the six pack on the coffee table. “But can’t say I wouldn’t be up for it again.”

TAGLIST(S)

If you’re crossed out, I couldn’t tag you!

FOREVERS: @deangirl93 // @ellewritesfix05 // @writercole // @katelyn--renee // @lunarmoon8 // @akshi8278 // @treat-winchesterswith-kindness // @foxyjwls007 // @vulgar-library // @babypink224221 // @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan // @asgoodasdancingqueen // @supraveng // @leah-winchester // @440mxs-wife // @defenderrosetyler // @redbarn1995 // @biceraswitch // @impala1967dwinchester // @captainamericasdaughter // @ejlovespie // @azulblue // @phildunphyisadilf // @mrscarlislecullen // @bronte.niven

Join my taglist here!

#billy hargrove x reader #steve harrington x reader #billy hargrove smut #steve harrington smut #billy hargrove x reader x steve harrington #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things

4K notes · View notes

sadhours · 1 year

Text

simmer down

billy hargrove x f!reader

masterlist • requests are open! • read on ao3

summary: being tommy hagan’s sister had it’s perks, but when the new kid from California catches your attention, it seems like more of a curse than a good thing

warnings: 18+ minors dni, Steve x Reader, underage drinking, partying, smut, p in v, angst, Billy is a mystery, Steve/Nancy, slow burn, forbidden romance

Being Tommy Hagan’s sister had its advantages. Your freshman year of high school, you had a guaranteed spot with the cool kids and an invite to every party. Tommy wasn’t protective by any means. You two were buddies, you and Carol were buddies and of course, you and Steve Harrington were buddies. Freshman year was a blur, until Nancy ripped Steve away from the group. Still, the three of you were determined to keep the good times rolling. Sure, you spent every single Saturday, Sunday and Monday hungover but it was worth it. You think.

Maybe you didn’t remember the parties very well but hell, you knew you’d had fun. Plus, you were lucky enough to lose your virginity to the King on your fifteenth birthday and even if he pretended you didn’t exist once he started dating Nancy, it was worth it. Okay, so you weren’t totally over Steve but you were coping just fine. Carol didn’t let you mope for long. There were too many parties to go to.

Then one day, Steve Harrington is pushed to the very back door of your mind. Perched on your brother’s car, sharing a cigarette with him and his girlfriend, a pretty blue Camaro whips through the parking lot and slides into the parking spot across from you. A small, angry redhead bolts out, slamming the door and zips up to the middle school on a skateboard. Every head in the parking lot is turned to the muscle car and the gorgeous, denim-clad, mulleted blonde motherfucker. He takes your breath away. Takes Tommy and Carol’s breath away. The guys dripping in cool. Not another person like him has stepped foot in this midwestern hell hole. The three of you can’t wait to sink your claws in him. He flicks his cigarette away, a small hint of a smirk curling his lips and your eyes follow the Marlboro as it tumbles to the ground. The fucking guy didn’t even smoke half of it. The nicotine fiend in you is tempted to snatch it up, but that’s like, super uncool.

You watch as Tina and her girls eyes linger on the stranger, practically salivating at the way his ass looks in his jeans. It must take at least ten minutes for the fucker to pull his pants up.

“Who the hell is that?” Carol wonders aloud for the group.

“One bitchin’ dude,” Tommy scoffs, an impressed tilt to his voice.

;;;

Tommy moves fast. You know this. He had an easy way about him, friendly even though he was the biggest asshole you knew. That blue Camaro is parked on the curb in front of your house. Your parents are outside, doing the yard work necessary to prepare for the cold front sweeping in. Your whole life was spent in Hawkins so you know nothing else but god, do you yearn for year long summers.

You were eager to listen to the new record you’d just bought. A quick wave to your parents and you’re opening the front door, flooded with the sound of Metallica’s The Four Horsemen. Tommy’s pulled out his only metal album to impress the new kid. The feeling in your gut isn’t new. You used to get the same excited feeling whenever Steve was over. However, this was different because Steve knew you. He watched you grow up. You’d known him since you were little. This new guy hasn’t played Barbie’s with you from the age eight to twelve.

You take a deep breath before heading towards Tommy’s room, leaning against the doorframe. Tommy’s head banging obnoxiously, Carol is checking her nails looking bored and the blonde boy is nodding his head along to the bass line. He’s got a cigarette pinched to between his fingers and as he’s bringing the filter to his lips, he sees you.

He takes a drag, smirks and says, “Hey.”

You’ve never loved your brothers ability to make friends more.

“Hi,” you try to say in the coolest way you can.

Tommy pauses his thrashing and motions to you, “Oh, Billy! This is my sister.”

“Nice to meet you, Tommy’s sister,” he drawls.

You tell him your name, awkwardly lingering in the doorway before Carol’s tugging you inside.

“Whatcha got in the bag?” Billy asks, fingers pressing to the brown paper.

You swallow, “Uh, just a record.”

“Which one?”

You pull out the cellophane wrapped vinyl, displaying the copy of Out of the Cellar by Ratt you’d just excitedly purchased with your allowance.

“Oh, fuck yeah! Atta girl,” he cheers as he snatches it out of your hand.

The praise causes a flutter downstairs. Five minutes into meeting this fucking guy and you’re already a puddle. The excitement at impressing him is unmatched.

Billy shimmies around you, places a strong hand on your hip as he passes to stop the Metallica record and replace it with your new one. You plop down on the floor next to Carol, eyes drawing back up to Billy as he turns the volume up, cigarette hanging between his lips. He bobs his head, his earring dangling against his wispy curls and you don’t like feeling this arousal while in the same room as your brother and his girlfriend.

“Did you see Steve with the princess today? Ugh, gag me with a spoon,” Carol nudges your knee while mimics gagging herself.

Billy snorts, “What’s the deal with that guy? People kept telling me I was gonna be the new King, whatever the fuck that means.”

Tommy chimes in, “He used to be the King. We were good buddies until he started sticking his dick in the priss.”

“Steve’s nice,” you shrug. Only Carol knows what happened between the two of you and you’d sworn her to secrecy, too embarrassed to let your brother know you’d fallen for his best friend. She gives you a pointed look before rolling her eyes.

“He used to be cool, now he’s nice,” Tommy deflects, wiggling his fingers for emphasis. He pulls a beer of the sixer and tosses it to you, which you fumble to catch.

You tap your nail on the tap, trying your best to rid the memories of Steve kissing you late at night from your head. You know if you glance over to Billy, they’ll dissipate but then you’ll be imagining kissing him and you don’t want that either.

“So where’d you move from?” you ask, not looking up from the beer.

Billy sits next to you with the thud, his knee knocking yours which absolutely does not shoot heat to between your legs. He lifts his can to you, indicating he’d like to cheers you. Sometimes Tommy’s friends did things like this with you and while he wasn’t protective of you, he made you promise that friends were out of the question. You could not hook up with any of them. Acquaintances were fine and while Billy was only that right now, you know Tommy wanted to be good buddies with him so you were awaiting the conversation. You were getting ahead of yourself. A cheers does not mean Billy’s attracted to you.

“California,” he replies as you clink aluminum cans. “Much better than this shithole.”

“You’re telling me,” Carol whines, “I fucking hate this place.”

Billy drops his cigarette in the empty beer can sitting in the middle of the floor, apparently the designated ashtray. He leans his head back to look at you, “What’s there to do here?”

You feel shy under his gaze, almost choking on your swig of beer once your eyes meet his. You clear your throat and swallow hard, “Uh, parties, mostly. Hang out in the woods. Go to convenience stores.”

“Ah. I expected more hick shit. Ya know, tipping cows, shooting guns, kissing cousins,” Billy chuckles, biting his lip as his eyes dart between your brother and his girlfriend.

“Carol knows about kissing cousins,” Tommy sneers, throwing his girlfriend under the bus.

“Do you have to tell everyone?” she hurls a rolled up sock at him. She turns to Billy, “He’s exaggerating. We’re not even blood related.”

Billy laughs, a cackle that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You can’t help but giggle. You’d heard the story a million times. Carol was at a family reunion and didn’t even realize the guy was a distant cousin. However, shit, it’s a family reunion. Who’s trying to get their rocks off at a family reunion?

“You guys smoke grass?” Billy changes the subject and the three of you nod in unison. “Know where I can get some?”

“Eddie “The Freak” Munson,” Tommy tells him, “I think I have some, though. Hold you over in the meantime.” He gets up and sifts through his sock drawer, returning with a tied off ziploc bag to hand to Billy.

“And now,” Billy takes it and shoves it in his pocket, “We’re best buds.”

Tommy beams at the declaration. And with those words, Billy Hargrove has just become verboten. Damn it.

Tommy tells you as much when Billy leaves, rattling off about his dad being an asshole and he’s got to get home before he does.

“I saw those eyes,” Tommy raises a scolding finger at you, “Don’t even try it. He’s too cool.”

“Aw, Tommy,” Carol pouts, “Let her have some fun.”

“No,” you raise your hands defensively, “You didn’t see any eyes. I don’t even think he’s cute.”

Tommy scoffs, “Yeah, right. Even I think the guy is hot.”

Carol raises an eyebrow, “You going queer on me, big boy?”

“Me? Queer?” Tommy laughs, “Let me show you how untrue that is.”

“Okay, ew, I’m leaving,” you push yourself off the ground and run out of the room, closing the door behind you.

;;;

“Does Tina throw bitchin’ parties?” Billy asks you, taking a drag off his cigarette before passing it.

You take it and try to ignore the tingling feeling on your lips as you take a hit. You’re leaning against the trunk of his Camaro, Carol and Tommy are nearby but too busy making out to listen to the conversation.

“I guess?” you reply, “All the parties here kind of bleed together. They’re fun and all, just… the same thing.”

Billy looks over to your brother with his tongue down Carol’s throat, “They do that all the time, huh?”

“Yeah, you’ll get used to it,” you shrug.

“What about you?” he turns slightly towards you, “Why don’t you have a boyfriend?”

You can feel the way your cheeks redden, “I don’t know. No one’s really caught my attention, I guess.”

“Is he protective?”

You shake your head, “No, the opposite. Tommy doesn’t give a shit what I do. I just haven’t met anyone I like in that way.”

“Yeah,” Billy muses, “I know the feeling.”

That catches your attention. Every girl at Hawkin’s High is throwing themselves at him but not a single one special enough to tickle his fancy. You included.

“I’m young, anyways,” you deflect, “I have plenty of time to find the man of my dreams.”

“Oh, yeah?” Billy digs his canine into his lower lip, “What’s the motherfucker you’ve dreamed up like?”

You, you don’t say. “Oh, I don’t know!”

“You’ve thought about it. Is he nice, like King Steve?” Billy raises his eyebrows, “Is he a freak like Munson?”

No, he’s blonde with a mullet and pretty eyelashes.

“He hasn’t made himself known yet,” you urge, “Maybe he’s a millionaire, maybe he’s a rockstar.”

“You want Vince Neil?” he knocks he elbow into yours.

“I wouldn’t mind,” you shrug.

Billy cackles, “All you chicks are the same.”

You scoff, “Oh and guys aren’t? Like you’re not pining over Lita Ford.”

“Nah,” he laughs, “Not my thing.”

“What is your thing then?” you ask, eyes meeting briefly before you can’t handle the heat of them. Billy’s eyes are too pretty. The bluest you’ve ever seen.

“Someone real,” he says, sincerely and it tugs your heartstrings.

“Billy, the romantic,” you tease, shoving your hands in your pocket.

“Far from it, sweetheart,” he pats your shoulder before pushing himself off the bumper and heading into the building as the bell rings.

Sweetheart drips down your throat and curls around your heart.

;;;

It’s not much of a costume. It’s a short skirt, fishnets and a too tight top. You can say you’re Madonna but how many girls are going as Madonna. You just want to look hot. Want Billy to look at you like you’re more than Tommy’s little sister. Like you’re some video vixen and he just cannot keep his hands to himself. It’s a flourishing thought that you push deep down. Tommy can’t control you but you think of the conversation you’d hand the day before. Billy isn’t into you. He had the opportunity to say something and he didn’t. And one thing you’ve learned about boys your age is if they want it, they’ll make it known.

“Are you ready yet?” Carol’s asking as she peers into your bedroom. You scan her outfit up and down, you think maybe she’s channeling Madonna as well but you can’t pin exactly what she’s dressed as.

You wipe the corner of your mouth, fixing the smeared lipstick.

“Yeah, just about,” you mumble, reapplying your mascara.

“Billy’s meeting us there,” she sings, grinning wide at you in the mirror.

You roll your eyes, “Carol, he’s off limits and even if he wasn’t, I don’t like Billy like that.”

“Sure,” she purrs, slapping the doorframe, “Vamoose, pretty girl. I wanna get wasted.”

Tommy’s a bad driver. He was also drinking before he left so he’s even worse, by the time you get to the party you feel like you’ve already got the spins. You hold onto Carol’s wrist to ground yourself and Billy’s rushing up behind the two of you.

“Boo!” he shouts, pressing a hand to your lower back.

Carol shrieks but you’d seen him coming. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling the two of you two his chest. He reeks of whiskey and Marlboro Reds. Seems like Billy had a bit of pregaming himself.

“Hi, Billy,” the two of you sing in unison.

Tommy barrels around the car, running up from behind to jump onto Billy’s back which causes all of you to tumble to the ground. Carol screams, scolding Tommy about ruining her hair but you’re distracted by the laugh erupting from Billy, his lips so close to your ear you can feel his breath fanning against it. It makes you tingle all over and you desperately want to grab him and pull him closer, want to press your lips to his in a hungry kiss. Then it’s gone, he’s up from the ground with Tommy pulling him towards the keg and Carol’s reaching her hand down to you.

You stumble along with her and when you’re reaching the keg, Billy’s pumping it and filling cups for you and Carol.

“You’ve got to beat Steve’s record, Billy! Come on,” Tommy urges his friend, hands clasped tight around his shoulders.

You stand over by Carol and Tina, watching the way the brunette fucks Billy with her eyes. A pang of jealousy surges through your stomach but you chug from the red Solo cup to drown it out. You sway along with the Motley Crüe song, unable to stop your eyes from scanning the crowd for familiar chestnut hair and brown eyes. Carol must notice because she grabs your face and turns it to look at Billy. She wants you to get over Steve just as badly as you do. You notice Billy’s costume, you think he’s going for terminator but it’s laid back. An homage rather than a costume. His abs look nice, you imagine what they must feel like. Carol’s a good friend.

They lift Billy up, he bites around the tap and makes eye contact you for a brief second before beer is flooding into your mouth. He easily beats Steve’s record. Seems like he could’ve gone longer but the second he beats it, they’re pulling him down. He spits the foam out, beer dripping down his chin to his chest and it’s… a sight. They funnel inside but you stick by Carol.

“God, he’s so yummy,” Tina gushes, turning to you and Carol.

Carol agrees excitedly, winks at you and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Tina.

“What? Did you call dibs already?”

“God, no,” you say, a little too defensively. “I just have eyes and Carol wants to live vicariously through me. It’s not happening.”

“Well, I’m definitely not holding back,” Tina quips.

You imagine the two of you as cats, tails high and backs arched, ready to pounce.

“Go for it,” you shrug, holding your beer close to your chest.

You retreat first, heading inside in search of a better time. A spiked punch is in your future. It’s only slightly dampened when you see Nancy downing cup after cup in the kitchen, Steve upset and asking her to cool it. He doesn’t even notice your presence and that’s totally fine. You’re a fly on the wall like you usually are around him. Steve reaches for her cup again and they struggle for power until the force of their hands pulls the cup back and spills the sticky red punch all over her white sweater. Everyone reacts in shock and you have to still your mouth from the smile threatening against your lips as you quickly avert your attention.

When they flutter away, you copy Nancy. Downing as many cups as you can before you start to feel numb. Seeing Steve was a shock to your system. All prior feelings rush to the forefront of your brain and you want to find him, pull him into a empty bedroom and kiss him from head to toe. It’s a shame when you see him and Nancy lock themselves away in a bathroom. You linger, clutching your drink to your chest as you watch drunk teenagers dance the night away. Nancy doesn’t deserve Steve. He shouldn’t have to change to be with her. You liked Steve the way he was.

Steve opens the door and slams it behind him, he pushes passed out, shoulders colliding and when he turns to look at you, you notice tears in his eyes. The brunette is quick to swivel back around, stomping outside and you wonder what in the hell just happened in there. Half of you is tempted to follow him outside, offer comfort in whatever way you can but then you feel large, strong hands wrap around your waist. You tilt your head back to see Billy standing behind you with a drunk smile plastered on his face, his eyes are tinted red like he’s been smoking more than cigarettes.

He leans down, lips close to your ear so he can whisper, “Why are you hiding from us?”

“Hiding? I’m not hiding,” you argue, lifting your cup to explain further, “Where is everyone?”

“Backyard,” he smirks, releasing his grip and stumbling towards the sliding glass door.

He turns his head briefly to make sure you’re following him.

Tina’s backyard is trashed. You can’t imagine what the cleanup is going to be like tomorrow. As soon as you step out the door, Billy grabs your hips again and urges you to the left. You look down and see what looks like five smashed beer bottles, right outside the door. You mumble a thank you before wiggling out of his grip. The last thing you need is for Tommy to see it. The blonde guides you over to the group and you collapse down next to your brother and Carol.

“Steve and Nancy just got in a fight,” you tell them before bringing your cup to your lips.

Carol raises her eyebrows and leans closer, giving you a look you know all too well. You quickly shake your head, slouching your shoulders and trying to sink away from her gaze. Tommy lets out a cackle, leaning his body back with it.

“We heard, he threw punch on her?”

“Well, no, he didn’t throw it on her, it just spilled,” you explain, watching in your peripheral how Tina leans her body against Billy’s and whispers in his ear. Immediately, your stomach turns but you ignore it. There’s no way you could be jealous, you don’t even know the guy yet and you’re going to make sure you don’t stew on how attractive he is. You know how mad Tommy will be and besides, your brother isn’t exactly loyal to you. You imagine if you did make a move on Billy and he rejected you, Tommy wouldn’t stop hanging out with him. Or god forbid, he doesn’t reject you but instead breaks your heart and Tommy would still pick Billy’s side. You know this about your brother.

“But they went into the bathroom and I guess argued, because Steve came storming out and he looked like he was crying,” you continue, picking at a loose thread on your skirt.

Tommy snorts, “I knew they wouldn’t last long.”

Carol nods along with him, “She’s too prissy for Steve. I bet the argument was something stupid too.”

“Maybe,” you shrug, allowing yourself to turn slightly and just in time to catch Tina shoving her tongue down Billy’s throat. You’re quick to turn back to your brother and Carol.

“You guys wanna leave soon?” Carol asks, you know she’s trying to be casual but only asking to save you the displeasure of watching Billy and Tina make out for the rest of the night.

“Yeah, I’m pretty over it,” you admit, stretching your arms up.

Tommy scoffs, “You guys are so boring. It’s still early.”

It is, you don’t even feel drunk yet but you are bored and too many unpleasant feelings are swirling around you. If you get any more alcohol in you, you’re libel to throw yourself at Steve, or worse, Billy.

“This party kind of blows, though,” Carol argues and wraps her arms around Tommy, whispering something in his ear. Whatever she said has him grinning and jumping to his feet. You’d rather not know.

;;;

You’re sitting in study hall, trying to stay awake when a note lands on your desk. You turn and see Steve failing at trying to look innocent, he fake coughs in his hand while stretching his opposite arm up and then back down. His eyes meet yours briefly and he quickly looks away, a hint of smile on his lips. You unfold the note and see Steve’s messy handwriting scrawled lopsided on the top of the page.

Wanna listen to my Abba record?

You stare at it a little dumbfounded, because it was an inside joke between the two of you. It was his lame way of trying to get you alone at one of his parties. It was only the second time you guys had ever messed around and as your relationship continued, it became something Steve would say just to make you blush or laugh. Worse, though, it turned into a code for sneaking away to hook up. His fight with Nancy must’ve been more serious than you thought. This was Steve’s olive branch, and it was sleazy but it was also romantic, unfortunately.

You write back in neat, straight handwriting, Right here in study hall?

You carefully slide the paper onto his desk and turn back to your textbook. From the corner of your eye, you see Steve grinning wide as he reads what you’ve wrote before furiously writing and handing it back.

Is that a yes?

It’s a maybe. I don’t think Mr. Delfin would appreciate it.

Fair enough. The albums at my house anyway. After school then?

You chew on your bottom lip. It would be very easy to fall back into this but you have plans with your brother, Carol and Billy. However, the prospect of being alone with Steve seems way more appealing. And you can’t help yourself, you think about Steve more than you think about anything else. You absolutely miss touching him and you’ve been rather frustrated since he started going out with Nancy.

Meet me in the library after school.

;;;

You made some dumb excuse to Carol about having to work on a class project in the library. She bought it but tried to insist on you ditching it entirely to get to know Billy better. Which you knew Carol was aware you wouldn’t go for.

When Steve walks up to you, you’re standing at the window. He leans against the wall and looks at you quizzically.

“Whatcha doing?”

You watch as Tommy and Carol pile into his car and drive off, the blue Camaro following after them and you say to Steve, “Just making sure it’s… safe. Okay, let’s go.”

Steve let’s out a scoff, “Don’t want them to see you with me?”

You crane your head sideways as you look up at him, “I’m ditching them for you. They’d be mad.”

Steve nods his head, pursing his lips like he can taste your words. You keep your hands to yourself on the walk to his BMW, you’d learned to do as much when you guys were fooling around. Steve talks a lot on the drive to Loch Nora. None of it really makes much sense, or is important but you like listening to his voice. It’s adorable, he stutters every so often and rambles on, losing his thought and then rushing into a completely new thought. The reason you like it so much is you’ve seen Steve hit on girls throughout the years and weirdly enough, this is how he does it so you feel special when it’s directed at you.

His house is empty, it usually is but what always shocked you was how clean it was. A teenage boy lived there alone for eight months of the year, you expected it to be messy but then again, you’re sure they have a cleaning lady coming often. Steve leads you up the stairs and to his bedroom. It smells clean, like laundry detergent and his cologne. Your stomach is doing flips at the familiarity of it all, you’ve been in this exact position many times before and you’re anticipating his next moves. As you sit on his bed, Steve wraps his hand around your hip and lays you on your back. You shyly smile up at him, the weight of his body makes you tingle all over and his big, brown eyes look into yours. There hasn’t been a night in months that you haven’t pictured this exact moment happening, ushering you to sleep and hopefully dream of Steve.

He pushes tucks your hair behind your ear as he cracks a smile, teeth bright and white while his cheeks flush just a smidge. You want to tell him how much you’ve missed him but him and Nancy have only been broken up a couple of days, you know what this is. That’s your downfall, though, you’ll bend over backwards to have Steve. When his lips caress yours, a small moan rises up your throat involuntarily. It’s a soft, sweet kiss and he gently holds your cheek as he does it. Your fingers snake into the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer so you can deepen the kiss. Steve takes things slow, he always did and you’ve always been bursting at the seams, eager for more. You drag your tongue against his lower lip, begging for entrance and he allows you easily. Your body lights up, feels like you’re on fire when he grinds just barely on top of you. His thigh between your legs presses against your center and it makes your head feel heavy, falling apart beneath him. Steve’s like a drug and you’ve been sober for far too long. Your desperation makes you feel antsy, you want things to progress much faster than they are but Steve is stubborn, he sets the pace. He’s different than any other man you’ve been with, he’ll kiss you until your jaw hurts and you’re trembling. That seems to be his intent now because when you try to pull away from it, he grabs your jaw and kisses you harder. You whimper against his lips, wriggling your hips to demonstrate how badly you need him.

Steve pulls back and smiles down at you, stroking his thumb along the apple of your cheek, “You’re so beautiful.”

You flush, grinning from ear to ear as you avert your eyes, unable to hold eye contact. With a giggle you tell him, “So are you.”

He lets out a small, breathless laugh, “Thank you.”

Steve places kisses along your jaw and down your neck, he licks against your skin but he’s always been careful not to leave any marks. Back when you two were fooling around regularly, you weren’t so careful with him and you’d litter his neck and chest with love bites. Steve could always explain them away much easier than you could.

He continues kissing against your collarbone as he starts unbuttoning your shirt. You inhale sharply, goosebumps rising all over your skin when his fingers brush against your now exposed stomach. Steve’s lips descend once he gets your blouse completely undone, brushing them against the curve of your breast. This is the area he doesn’t hold back, sucking and biting gently at the tender skin until it’s raw and sore. You know you’ll have a bruise there by the end of the night but you don’t mind. It’ll be proof this isn’t a dream. In sync, you prop up on your elbows as Steve leans back and reaches around to unclasp your bra. You dispose of the blouse and bra before reaching for the hem of Steve’s polo and pull it over his head. You smooth your hands over his head before he leans down and licks at your perked nipple, his Bambi eyes looking up at you curiously. You whine, arching into the touch as your eyes flutter shut. For a moment, you picture blonde curls and blue eyes but quickly push the thought away as shame begins spreading through your stomach. You try not to think about it too much, not willing to admit even to yourself that you want Billy in that way.

“Steve,” you pant out, for good measure.

He sucks your nipple between his lips as he hand moves to squeeze and knead at your other breast. Another moan falls out of your lips as you squeeze your eyes shut and knit your fingers into his hair. He grazes his fingertips across your neglected nipple and laps against the other. It’s intoxicating, you focus on his soft his hair feels between your fingers. Your thighs tingle as heat surges through your stomach and straight to your core. It’s quiet in the house, in the room, the only sound is Steve’s mouth on your and your paired labored breathing.

When he moves back up to crash his lips into yours and press his body close, you feel his cock hard in his jeans against your navel. He grunts softly against your lips moving both his hands to grip your jaw as he licks into your mouth eagerly. This is unlike Steve, he usually doesn’t express desperation until he’s already inside of you. It gets your hopes up, like maybe he’s been missing you just as badly as you’ve been missing him. And maybe that’s wishful thinking but in this moment, you’ll take it. You grab onto his waist and writhe up against him, letting him know you’re just as needy.

Steve pulls back from the sloppy kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips as his hands lower and he’s making quick work getting your jeans and panties down to your ankles. They hang awkwardly there, your tennis shoes are still on but you're really liking the frenzy of it all. Steve props himself on his knees and does the same with his jeans and briefs, pushing them down to his knees as his long cock springs out and slaps against his stomach. God, you’ve missed the sight of it, your mouth waters as you breathe heavy. Memories of the way it felt in your mouth flood your mind, causing your hips to jerk up in arousal and Steve smiles down at you, clearing taking the movement as a compliment. He circles his hand around himself, pumping a few times before dragging his head through your folds.

“Steve…” you moan out slowly, another surge of wetness flowing out of you.

“Yeah?” he breathes out, his cheeks are flushed and his eyes look glassy. It’s such a pretty view, you wiggle against him.

“Need you,” you admit, shyly.

He licks against his bottom lip before rubbing his tip against your fluttering hole, “You been with anyone else since me?”

You shake your head, knowing the reason behind his question, “I’m clean.”

Steve nods, his hair bouncing with the movement before he sinks his cock inside of you. You gasp out, grabbing onto his bedspread while you melt at the sensation. It’s been way too long. You’re tight, haven’t had anything stretch you out since the last time you had Steve like this. He grunts softly, eyes squeezing shut as he slowly sheathes himself completely inside you.

“Oh,” you moan out, feeling him fill you out in the most delicious way. You force your eyes to stay open, wanting to watch the way Steve’s face contorts in pleasure as he stills his movements. He grazes his fingers up your sides as he lowers himself, his chest flush against yours while his lips find yours again. The kiss is languid, matching the stroke of him between your legs. It’s sensual which is typical from Steve but a stark contrast to the short foreplay. It takes your breath away, regardless. He pulls back an inch, panting against your lips as he rolls his hips deeper, running his hand down to hold onto your hip.

You try to spread your legs further, but the clothing around your ankles makes it difficult. Your hands scratch down his back and you arch your back, moving your hips to chase your high. Steve grunts out and then bites his bottom lip hard, moving his hips faster and more wildly than before. It’s exactly what you need as the pressure building inside you is pulled taut, you’re so close you can almost see it.

“Fuck me, Steve,” you whine out and he makes a pretty, needy sound that has you reeling. It was the type of sound that was the reason you’d always loved going down on Steve.

He rocks his hips into you harder and faster, pulling out little breathy moans from you as you cling onto his back.

“You like that?” he pants out, his hair bouncing with every thrust and you nod up at him, eyebrows furrowing as your orgasm looms closer and closer.

You press your palm against his cheek and he kisses you deeply, smoothing his hands up and down your sides as he moves against you. The kiss pushes you over the edge, a sharp cry flooding out of you as you climax around him, your walls fluttering around his dick and Steve starts making the familiar sounds, desperate and whiny little noises. He pulls out of you quickly, spilling his load over your stomach with a strangled groan. You hum happily, eyes dancing across his gorgeous face. He stuffs himself back in his pants and walks over to his hamper, grabbing a shirt and walking back over to wipe his mess from your navel. He pants as he does it and when he moves away again to dispose of the shirt, you pull your clothes back on.

“You want me to just drop you at home or back at school?” he asks, his eyes everyone but on you.

“Home is fine,” you say, trying to hide the way your heart is splitting yet again from Steve Harrington.

The car ride there is awkward and when you’re a block away, you notice Tommy and Billy’s cars parked on the street.

“Just drop me here,” you say softly and Steve pulls over. As you get out, he leans over and grabs your wrist. You kneel down and lean back in the car. He kisses you gently and then smiles awkwardly at you.

“I’ll see you later,” you say before shutting the door and slinging your backpack over your shoulder.

You walk up to the front door, noticing as Steve makes a u-turn and heads back in the direction of Loch Nora. Tears are threatening to break free but you will them back down, stepping inside the house and waving at Tommy, Billy and Carol as they’re lounged on the couch, watching music videos. You close yourself in the bathroom and look at yourself in the mirror, smoothing your hair down and fixing your makeup. Once you feel you’ve calmed down enough, you make your way back out to the living room and very nicely ask Billy if you could bum a smoke.

“I’ll join ya,” he says, standing from the couch.

Tommy moves to follow but Carol grabs his wrist and pulls him back down, leaning close to whisper something and he looks like he’s about to protest until she starts kissing his neck. You make a face and lead Billy out the back door. You sit down on the plastic furniture and graciously accept the cigarette he hands over. Billy pulls out his zippo and lights it for you. Seeing him, unfortunately, eases the way your heart aches. Deep down, you know Billy would do the same thing Steve just did to you but you try not to focus on that. You feel ridiculous that you thought things might be different this time. It’s obvious that you’ve always been an easy lay to Steve and it hurts that you’re still that.

“How was the library?” he asks as he lights his own cigarette.

You shrug, “Really exciting at first, until it sucked.”

“So what’s his name?” Billy asks, smirking up at you as he exhales the thick smoke.

You blush, dropping your head before replying, “That obvious, is it?”

Billy lets out a big, belly laugh. It’s a nice sound, you want to make him laugh over and over.

“I can always tell when a woman’s had an orgasm,” he quips, sliding his tongue out almost obscenely along his lower lip. It’s insane how quickly he’s making you feel better, no matter how blunt he is.

“Yeah, well, his name isn’t important because the whole thing,” you gesture your hands in big circles, “wasn’t important to him.”

Billy inhales sharply, gritting his teeth, “Well… speaking from experience… ‘cause I am one so.. yeah, all guys want the same thing.”

You curl your lips down in a frown as you chew over his words, deciding you’re not much better than Steve because you went along with it for the same reasons. You wanted to fuck him and shit, you got that.

“Sometimes,” you giggle softly, bringing the cigarette up to your lips, “Girls are after the same thing.”

The blonde laughs again and you wanna breathe it in, wanna taste his laughs and his lips and his whole body. He’s different than Steve, physically rougher around the edges which makes him that much more interesting. Exotic maybe. His hair doesn’t look nearly as soft as Steve’s, not nearly as cared for. You’d seen the Farrah Fawcett spray in Steve’s bathroom and you can guarantee Billy doesn’t use the same thing.

“I’ve seen my fair share of that,” he agrees, “but I think a big difference is once guys have it once, they don’t want it again but girls do.”

“Or they want it again when it’s easy,” you point out, reaching over to snatch the beer from his hand and taking a big gulp from it.

“Beware of those assholes,” he says, raising his eyebrows and looking at you seriously.

You groan softly, “I was trying to stay away from him.”

“Who is it?” Billy asks, curiously. “I won’t tell.”

“But you so will,” you gush, bringing your hand to your face, “It’s premium gossip.”

“You think I’m that type?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow up.

You turn to him, “This is juicy. It’s be hard not to tell people.”

“What? Harrington?”

Willing your face to remain still, “No.”

Billy scoffs, “King Steve. No way. That is something.”

“It’s not Steve,” you seethe, though you know your face is giving it away.

He chuckles softly and grabs the beer back, “Your secret is safe with me but uh… you could do better.”

Billy gets up from the chair, tossing his cigarette before walking back inside.

#billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy x steve x reader #billy hargrove #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove x f!reader #billy hargrove x hagan!reader #simmer down

696 notes · View notes

carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 6 months

Text

Platonic Stobin Mind-Reading AU Part 1

Steve doesn’t notice anything is wrong at first beyond the obvious. His ears are ringing, his eye’s so swollen it feels like it’s going to pop from its socket, and his lungs don’t seem to expand fully before the pain in his ribs makes them shrivel back into themselves.

The injection site pulses, like the viscous blue liquid is still squirming its way into his brain, writhing around its synapses to force his tongue to wrap around words that only hold the truth. It doesn’t make sense. But neither do demogorgons or demodogs or the way thoughts have been leaking out of his ears since Hargrove bashed his skull in with a kitchen plate.

He doesn’t feel truthful. If he was truthful, he’d be telling Robin about the blood slowly pooling into his sock, or how he’s pretty sure she’s the best thing that’s happened to him since Dustin Henderson showed up uninvited at his house and derailed his life. Instead, he listens to Robin come up with more and more outlandish ways that this drug will kill them. It’ll erode their brains until there’s nothing left. Their organs will explode. They’ll have to keep talking until they slowly dehydrate and die. Steve hums along, thoughts trailing along too slow to keep up with her.

The mystery drug isn’t helping. He’s got that same giddy feeling he remembers from Friday night blunt rotations in crowded backyards, surrounded by his usual brigade of assholes. The likelihood of overdose or dismemberment ia much higher than they usually are when he feels the way, but hey, the company is better.

The overhead lights are trailing along in his vision, his cheekbone is throbbing with every invigorating heartbeat, and Robin’s head is shaking with laughter where it’s resting firmly against his own.

Then they’re being interrogated and even as Steve talks, a little voice in the back of his head is screaming at him to shut up. He doesn’t, can’t think past the drugs and his exploding eye, and the way he’s pretty sure if Robin moves her head away from his own he’ll explode.

Then noises and screaming and Dustin fucking Henderson.

They’re running.

They’re in the back of a cart.

They’re in an elevator.

Steve experiences each in little snapshots of coherency between laughing with Robin, and holding Robin’s hand, and–he can’t seem to think past Robin. It’s like Nancy all over again but more. Concentrated. The way he can only seem to think right now when it’s in tandem with her.

Then movies and popcorn.

Then water and a lightshow.

Then the bathroom. His thoughts are coming faster now, almost completely formed before they flit out his ears. And Robin is there. He still can’t think past her, and this is what love is like, isn’t it? The way he feels right when he’s sitting next to her.

But even as he’s confessing he can feel a little worm squirming through his stomach, uneasy with his words as they settle between them. And as Robin drops her secret between them like a gauntlet, Steve feels the squirming feeling ramp up into gut-churning fear. He doesn’t know why he’s afraid, or how he can almost feel himself glaring at the back of his own head in Mrs. Click’s class sophomore year, or the way he can perfectly remember how Tammy Thompson’s hair curled in the diluted sunlight of the classroom when before this moment he didn’t even remember her name.

It doesn’t matter, when He’s got Robin across from him, curling in on herself more with every second he doesn’t react.

The feeling ebbs into something softer as they make fun of a singing voice he can only barely remember. Something slides into place in the moment, like the weight of her skull on the back of his head while they’re tied back to back. Like the wisps of her hair tickling the side of his face. Like legs pressed together in a bathroom stall.

Then, Dustin fucking Henderson, and everything goes a little too fast after that. They survive by the barest threads of their little sailor suits. Billy dies. Hopper dies.

Steve goes home.

Part 2

#platonic stobin mind-reading au #stobin #stobin fic #steve harrington #robin buckley #my fic #I am simply vibing on this blog #This one only has 3k written so far just as a warning so who knows how often it'll get updated past that

191 notes · View notes

miheartsedthings · 1 month

Note

Idea - Billy spending his time with someone else while the reader is crushing on him from afar, sees their relationship unfold into something the reader wishes they had with Billy, but Billy's just doing it to distract himself from his elevating feelings for her while she's trying not to feel crushed by this massive crush.. happy ending :>

Thank you so much for being patient while I worked on this! Hope you like it! 😘

“To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves.” ― Federico García Lorca, Blood Wedding and Yerma

SFW, Angst, Fluff, Hidden Desire

Backing away, trembling, eyes filling with tears as his mouth babbles softly ‘No, it’s not real. This can’t…it can’t be happening…please…’ but it is happening. It has happened. Billy Hargrove has fallen in love, and much to his despair.

He wakes every morning from a nightmare of this all-consuming feeling. It’s terrible the way your face lives in his mind. You’ve replaced so many darker images and for that, he’s so grateful, but now there’s the cloying need for you. The Flayer’s voice used to echo in his skull. In the years since leaving Hawkins, it’s quieted down and now only one message remains, tacked to the back of his mind in perpetuity. No one will love you it says No one will stay.

This is the strongest because it’s the one he already believed. The ‘truth’ he already knew about himself. His being unloveable. He thought he’d made his peace with it. He thought he was satisfied enough to have survived the Flayer and made it back to California. For a time he found a kind of happiness. A hollow, sugary calm that left his days empty. There was booze again, and a slow reentry to weightlifting. His appetite for women was slowly returning. He’d made a couple of friends and attended a couple of parties. He was creating a new normal and it was okay that it didn’t feel exactly right.

He could live with the waves of loneliness that came over him at night. He could handle those dark memories and the nameless sense of loss. He would’ve been fine with it, if not for you. He saw you in class one morning. The dawn of another semester, another summer left behind. His skin was still warm from days on the beach, his head ringing with a hangover. Then you spoke and it was like you’d called his name with just the sound of it. He looked at you and listened to you, and every next thing you said spelled out his ruin. Every day the feeling sank further and further until he was bashful of looking your way.

As if that wasn’t enough, you kept showing up all over campus. You were in the student center whenever he went, and at parties he attended looking so fucking good in everything you wore. You passed by each other on your morning walk to separate classes and you always waved. Always with that lovely smile of yours. It got to the point where the thought of moving around campus made him anxious about running into you. He thought of you when he picked out his clothes, for fuck’s sake. Things couldn’t continue this way. He had to find peace from you. So, when Lauren asked him out one day after the class you shared, he said yes.

You’re trying to ignore the twist in your gut when you see Billy and Lauren walk in together. They’d always sat together in lecture, so you suppose it makes sense they’d start dating. But that doesn’t make it easier. You’d noticed Billy on your first day in class. He sat near the back, classically handsome and easily the most interesting person in class. When he talked, everyone listened, not just because of the way he looks. The way he speaks is filled with intention, right down to the gestures he chooses to accentuate his words. Whatever he feels he means it and he never shies away from that.

At the same time, you get the sense that what he says isn’t useless fluff, but based on something. Whatever he’s been through has changed him. You find yourself wanting to go up to him after class and ask him where he gets his confidence. You’d listen to his whole life story if he cared to tell you. But every time you thought you’d worked up the nerve to speak to him, those pretty blue eyes turned your nerve into vapor.

You’d always been a little shy, but with Billy, it was a new kind of nervousness. Even boys you’d had crushes on in school hadn’t made you feel the heart-stopping terror of his full attention. Maybe it was for the best that Lauren had taken him off the market. Now, there was no need to be nervous because there was no chance anything could happen. So why doesn’t that make it easier? Why, instead of relief when you see the pair together, do you only feel a queasy swell of envy?

“Count off when I point to you. Evens will be one team, odds will be another.”

You think nothing of it when the professor presents the group project. Then, you realize that you’re number three and Billy is number seven, and you’re flooded with fear.

“Oh nooo,” Lauren whines, hugging Billy’s arm to her chest. Billy says something softly to her. He’s always gentle with her, paying attention to every little thing she says. If only he’d look at you with the same care. He wears a lot of denim and smokes so much you smell the leftover cigarettes on him when he walks by. He’s always lost in thought when you see him. Something dark and cloudy behind his eyes you find yourself curious about. The distance is what kills you.

It feels unnatural that you can’t just go up and ask him what he’s thinking about. But you can’t. You watch the gentle way he pulls away from Lauren, telling her she doesn’t need to miss him since she’ll see him after class. You can’t blame her for being clingy, if he was yours you’d regret every moment apart.

His eyes lift and there you are, making his heart race. You look down to your notebook. Your two other group members have already arrived at the two seats beside and diagonal to you, leaving the spot across from you for Billy. He plops down, his face the perfect mask of indifference. He doesn’t even look at you. Your stomach hurts.

The professor explains the assignment and you turn in your seat to watch and listen, but the words are going over your head. Billy gives off a blazing heat and you can’t ignore it to save your life. After class the four of you agree to go right to the library and talk about the assignment.

In the library, only you and Billy show up. Of course, Lauren is there, too.

“Y/n, how do you get your hair to do that? It’s so cute!” Lauren smiles at you, twirling a lock of her auburn curls around her finger. You try to be lighthearted, but your face is burning.

“Just practice. And Youtube.” You chuckle. Billy sits there looking down at his phone. He’s still yet to speak since the three of you arrived in the library. Instead, Lauren has been acting as his mouthpiece.

“Very cute,” she says again, then nudges Billy. “Isn't her hair so cute, BB?”

Finally, his gaze lifts and he looks at you. You awkwardly smile and look down at your paper.

“Sure,” he says.

Lauren chastizes him, saying he’s supposed to agree with her and always compliment a lady on her appearance.

“It looks like the others aren’t coming,” You say, breaking into the conversation, sufficiently embarrassed and ready to escape. “We should try again later this week.”

In your hurry to get away, you snatch Billy’s pen from the table, shoving it into your bag with everything else. You don’t notice until you get home and quietly curse yourself. The next day, you see him in the student center when you go there to study. You smile and wave like you usually do, but then, wave him over. He hesitates a moment, his usual cool demeanor chipping a bit as he saunters over. Damn, even the way he walks is hot.

“I took this on accident yesterday,” you say, producing the pen. He smirks, flashing the sharp tips of his canines.

“Shit, you could’a kept it. I didn’t even notice.”

Right, he didn’t notice. Your neck goes warm.

“Sure, of course, I just thought…it’s yours, so…”

“Right.” He says.

“Right…”’

An oppressive quiet falls over the two of you, while you’re still holding the pen out to him and he’s still yet to take it and sweat is prickling the back of your neck because you’re not sure what to say or do. You’re certain the wrong move would ruin everything. Finally, a flicker of awareness snaps you out of it and you pull back your hand, unfortunately, it’s at the exact same moment he decides to reach for the pen.

“Oh,” you say, and extend it again and at the same moment he pulls back his hand. Both of you produce an awkward chuckle and he shifts onto his other leg.

“Keep it,” he says with a handsome little grin.

“Alright.” you clear your throat. “Did you ever hear from our group members?”

“Shit, no,” the two of you share a laugh, more comfortable this time. “It’s probably gonna be all on us.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” You’re chewing your lip, considering a bit of honesty you’d never had the nerve for until now. “Ya know, if I’m being honest, I don’t even remember what the assignment was.”

He cocks an eyebrow.

“You don’t know the assignment? Little miss answers every question?”

“Oh come on, I only answer half. You get the other half.”

He rolls his eyes, a playful chiding.

“Alright,” he slides into the seat opposite you. “I’ll explain it once so you better pay attention.”

“Swear.” You say, smiling brightly.

The assignment is abstract. As Billy explained it, you both found yourselves chuckling at your professor’s philosophical nature. It was a communications class, yet the assignment required in-depth study of your group mates in service of a short, but thorough introduction. You were to present your classmates as if they were receiving something like a Lifetime Achievement Award. Your speeches were to be “thoughtful, informative, and intimate”.

Billy explained all this and you enjoyed the uninterrupted view of him so up close. You were getting used to the way your stomach fell flat against your pelvis when he laughed, and soon enough you were joking right back. You asked him a few things you’d always wondered. Where had he been before Cali? Did he live in the dorms or off campus?

You talk about things you’ve overheard through dorm walls and about small towns. You tell him about friends back home and he tells you (In such vague terms that it only makes you even more curious) about his streak of trouble that almost killed him. He talks about the town he came from like it’s a dark blip on the map of his life.

“Should make Christmas fun, right?” You ask, joking.

“Fuck that,” he says. “I’m not going back.”

The mood turns somber and your smile fades. You take up the pen he gave you and take note.

“‘Hates Hawkins more than he loves Christmas’. Got it.”

He smiles.

“Nice. Very accurate.”

“Thanks,” you say “And if it makes you feel any better, I won’t be going home for break, either.”

For a moment the two of you are quiet, taken off guard by how natural it feels to be in the other’s company. You both let your eyes wander as you never had before. A small indulgence. Then his phone rings and you’re both reminded of the reality of things. It’s Lauren, asking where he is.

The next day, your group members still don’t show up to the library. Lauren’s meeting up with her own group, leaving you and Billy alone.

“What do you think she means by ‘intimate’?”

Billy looks up from his draft of your introduction. He looks extraordinarily handsome today and you've been having trouble holding eye contact. You try, of course, locking eyes and waiting for the rush of nerves to pass. His lids are tapered, and now that you think of it, every eyes you've ever admired have been tapered, just like his. His expression is thoughtful.

“Shit, I don't know. More than personal. Yeah, more than superficial. Something that lets em feel like they've known you for years.”

What would it be like to know him for years? You start to imagine the depth of understanding you'd come to have about this person and your heart starts to race. You're beginning to really appreciate this assignment.

“And the trick is doing it in two weeks.” You say, leaning back in your chair. “Well, I'll tell you my secrets if you tell me yours.”

He chuckles.

“So you can go blab about them in class? No thanks.”

“I wouldn't blab,” you say through a laugh, “I just wanna get a feel-” your nerves catch up to you right then. At the worst time. He cocks an eyebrow, making you cringe.

“You wanna feel.” He teases.

“No, no, not like that.”

“Uh huh.”

“I'm curious about you, that's all. You're interesting.”

“Hm.”

“Nevermind, forget I said anything.”

He's smirking, and writing something in his notebook.

“This is good,” he says “you're givin me plenty to work with.”

You groan, now fully embarrassed and he laughs again. Your eyes drop to your paper and you read over what you have so far.

“So,” he says, “Ask me something. If you're curious.”

You consider this invitation for a moment and decide it's now or never. You lean forward, folding your arms over each other.

“Well, in class you're always saying you don't like non-verbal communication. It's cheap and sneaky-”

“Lazy,” he corrects you. “It's the shit people rely on so they don't have to open their mouths.”

“Well…I just wonder if you might be oversimplifying things, and maybe if you don't like non-verbal communication from people because you don't know how to read it.”

His brows raise in a look of mock surprise.

“Yeah? What, you think I can't pick up on shit?”

“It's just a theory,” you say, laughing “But there's something to it. Non-verbals are valuable.”

“Depends on what they are,” he says.

“True. They're not all equal, but why hate them? I mean I know what you've said in class, they avoid the point, people use it as a crutch, but why do you think that?”

He sighs, leaning back in his chair, his eyes finding the ceiling behind your head. He sits there looking into the middle distance, pacing through thoughts. Making sense of something.

“You can't go through life...making people read your mind about shit.” He says, hesitating over a few of his words. You can tell this is harder for him to say. More honest. “People need to hear things…if they don't, they assume. And if you're stuck up your own ass trying to hold shit in, you never set it straight. What they think about you stays…”

You're watching him as he speaks, gesturing in order to help bring the words out. He brushes a curly lock of gold out of his eyes and as his voice peters out your gaze lingers on his parted lips.

“You are very non-verbal.” His eyes shoot up to yours, snapping you out of your spell. “Not in a bad way,” you add.

“In what way?”

You shrug.

“I don't know.” He doesn't look away, his eyes are fixed on you in a serious look of curiosity. “You talk with your hands. And to me that speaks to how genuinely you feel about things. Which is nice. You have an easy smile, it shows up as soon as you're amused and disappears the moment you're not. So, there's honesty in that, I think. You're very present.” He's watching you with a softness in his eyes that makes you warm. “And Lauren.” The mention of her name changes something in him. He looks away. “You uh…you keep your arm around her chair. It's protective.”

A moment passes where neither of you speaks, and you feel a quiet sadness settling over you.

“Anyway,” you continue, looking at your paper now, “Why hate it so much when it says so much about you?”

The longer you sit there in silence the more agitated Billy seems to get. He says he has to go and starts gathering his stuff. You assume it's because you've crossed a boundary by bringing up Lauren and you part ways with a gnawing guilt making your eyes water.

The next time you see Billy, you're at a party in the apartments near campus. People are crammed into the tight space, but the atmosphere is lively and warm. You and your friend stand in the kitchen, leaning against the island, cups in hand, already buzzed.

“Didn’t she say where he’d been?” Your friend asks. Her eyes are covered in sparkly purple eyeshadow and dark liner. Her signature look.

“You know my mom. She’s cryptic. All she said was my dad’s back and I need to come home over break.”

She rolls her eyes.

“Lame.”

“Lame is one word for it.”

You drain your cup of its contents and then refill it, not enjoying the thought of being around your parents for the holidays. It’s not like they’re bad people, they just expect a lot which can be hard to stomach when your dad disappears whenever he wants to. Your mom doesn’t make it any easier by demanding you be the perfect child to him whenever he decides to be home.

Your cup is mostly vodka with just enough cranberry juice to change the color. You slam it in less than a minute, making your friend laugh.

“Fuck,” she giggles. “That’s better. Let’s talk about that fine-ass classmate of yours.”

“Let’s not,” you answer, but your face is already warming thinking about Billy.

“Is he still with what’s her face?”

“Very much.”

“I don’t get that.”

“What’s not to get? She’s a nice enough girl and he’s about the most scrumptious guy I’ve ever seen.”

She shakes her head.

“Something’s off about it. Remember the episode of Catfish when it was really the dude’s cousin?”

You laugh.

“She was mad because he called her a fat-ass Kelly Price?”

“Yes! I knew, remember? I knew it was her all along! And when I think about you and this boy I get the same feeling, like the call is coming from inside the house.”

The two of you are laughing about this when you glance over into the living room and spot him. You can’t help gasping and your friend quickly follows your gaze. He and Lauren are just arriving, looking around, Lauren spots a group of girls she knows and goes shrieking over to them with her arms outstretched. You turn before Billy can catch you looking.

“Shit,” you mumble, taking another drink.

“No, this is good,” your friend says, “You have to get to the bottom of this.”

“There is no bottom of it,” you say, the reality of the situation hitting you again. “He has a girlfriend, there’s nothing left to do.” You glance over your shoulder and see you’ve lost track of him. “In fact. I’m avoiding him.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I’ll be back and then we can leave.”

You don’t listen to your friend’s pleas to stay, you move away in search of the bathroom. It’s at the end of a short hall, but as you’re on your way there, you see a bedroom door cracked open and movement catches your eye. Curiosity gets the better of you so you peek into the room, noticing a little black cat licking itself on the edge of the bed.

If you hadn’t been drunk, you would’ve kept moving, but you were drunk, more than you’d realized a second ago, and you couldn’t resist. You pushed into the quiet bedroom, gently closing the door behind you. The cat gave a curious, curling meow and watched you as you sat down beside it.

“Hey kitty,” you called, softly.

It rose, curling its back into a stretch and then bumping its little head into your palm. It meows again, eagerly arching its body against you.

“So sweet,” you coo, “Such a little sweetie baby, huh?”

The cat meows and cranes up to sniff as you scratch under its chin. In your fuzzy vodka brain, it makes perfect sense to lay back and let the cat curl up on your belly, which it promptly does. It’s lying there purring when the door opens and you bolt upright, suddenly terrified that the person whose room this is has caught you. Instead, you’re terrified to see Billy.

You sit there with the cat in your lap, your body filling with warmth. As good as he looks at school, there’s something entirely different about him in this kind of setting. Something loosened. A sly smile spreads across his lips.

“I knew it,” he says.

“Knew what?”

“You’re the type to be at a party and go snooping around for the pet.”

You laugh at yourself.

“Well, this actually happened by accident.”

“Sure.”

There it is again: that comfortable stillness you keep feeling between the two of you. How can he just stand there not saying a thing and make you feel at home? You remember Lauren and look down at the cat. Its fur is so smooth and ink-black. Its eyes are an uncanny emerald color.

“So, turns out I am going home for Christmas break.”

“Couldn’t resist.”

You smile at his sarcasm.

“It’s really a favor to my mom. My dad’s home so it’s…I don’t know, it’s stupid. But I’ll be there ‘cause it’s family.”

You don’t look at him, but if you had you’d see such conflict in his eyes.

“Figured out another thing I hate about non-verbal shit.”

You look up then, as he crosses the space to sit beside you. The cat is immediately curious, stepping across your lap to carefully sniff and then headbut Billy’s thigh.

“What's that?”

“It leaves it all up to the other person. You make em’ watch you and read into everything. They end up feeling like a stalker. Then if they get it wrong, it’s like, this whole fantasy they had is just empty bullshit.”

He’s tan, bringing his faint freckles into contrast. He smells like shampoo and cologne, and he’s warm. You can tell that when his hand brushes your thigh when he offers his palm to the cat.

“Funny,” you say, your voice has fallen soft and airy, but you don’t notice. You’re focused on his eyes “My introduction to you is all about how no-bullshit you are.”

He smirks, but it’s without the usual mischief.

“Better change that,” he says “I’m so full of shit I can’t stand it.”

You stare at him for a moment, and he comes into focus then, in a new way. You understand something new about him and just as you expected, it feels incredible.

“I get it now,” You say “The real reason you hate non-verbals.”

A little glint of apprehension passes through his eyes.

“Yeah?”

“You hate them ‘cause you-”

The door opens, and Lauren is there. Her smile falters into a lopsided grin.

“There you are,” she chirps. “Not in the bathroom.”

The two of them leave quickly, Billy tossing plastic parting words over his shoulder as he rushes away. You’re left in a stillness that doesn’t end when you get up to leave. It stays with you, burning and hollow.

You’re having trouble focusing in class on Monday. Your professor is more than a little surprised to see you being so quiet, and when she asks if you have anything to add to the discussion you quietly explain that you’re not feeling well. She asks if you’d like to leave early and you take her up on the offer. Anything to get away from Billy and Lauren.

She’s been all over him, even more than usual and it’s hard to stomach. You keep thinking back to the party and your encounter with Billy. What had it meant? You felt like it was on the tip of your tongue but you couldn’t make anything crystalize into shape. Your head was drowned.

Later, in the student center, you stare down at your paragraph. Nothing about it seemed right anymore and you kept re-structuring it. The paper was clogged with scribbles and strikethroughs. Your head was down, your hands framing your eyes as you stared down at the page and you didn’t look up when he sat down.

“Finish what you were saying the other night,” he says.

“I don’t remember.”

“Of course you do.”

“I was drunk, Billy. Forget it. Please?”

You hear him sigh and adjust in his chair.

“It’s over with Lauren.”

You look up and find his eyes are stone-cold and focused. His brows pinched.

“Did you…?”

“I’m done with the bullshit, Y/n. Fuck bein’ scared. Fuck the non-verbal shit.”

A jolt of energy zips up your spine, pulling you straighter in your seat. Your heart is pressed against your lungs as you watch his eyes, full of a new determination.

“What does that mean?” you venture.

His eyes take in your features, slowly, savoring the look of you.

“I don’t have a fuckin letter of this speech written down because I’m such dogshit at explaining who you are. Maybe if I had a year I could get started but it’s impossible right now. So I’m failing this project. Which is fine. But I want that year, if I’m not getting the grade.”

You’re stunned for a moment, until a ripple of laughter breaks the quiet. You share the joy, his smile evidence of an understanding.

“Just a year?” You ask.

“Enough to get started,” he says “That’s maybe half a sentence.”

“How much time would it take?”

“How much do you have?”

You laugh again, a palm over your heated face.

“I can’t believe this,” you say, then look at him, astonished. “I was right. You’re total shit at saying how you feel.”

He smiles and shrugs.

“Told you.”

“Yeah," you say, "that you tell me.”

Dividers from saradika-graphics

Photos from Pinterest

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #stranger things #billy hargrove imagine #billy stranger things #fanfic #story #miheartsedthings

113 notes · View notes

storiesforallfandoms · 2 years

Text

soft side ~ billy hargrove;stranger things

word count: 2517

request?: yes!

“Could you by any chance write a Billy Hargrove fluff?? You know before he died. Like maybe he’s really sweet to the reader and she’s the only one he lets see his soft side.”

description: in which the big bad bully falls for the quiet girl and shows her a side of him that no one has ever seen before

pairing: billy hargrove x female!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of abuse

masterlist (one, two)

It all started on a rainy day.

I had missed the bus and both my parents were working. My only option to get home was to walk nearly an hour in the pouring rain.

I was walking as fast as I could without flat out running, my backpack held over my head. It wasn’t doing much to shield me from the rain, but it was better than nothing. I was already drenched from cars splashing me and I was shivering so hard my teeth were chattering.

I flinched as I heard another car approaching. It slowed to a stop beside me and when I looked over, I was shocked to see it was Billy Hargrove’s car.

“Need a ride?” he asked.

If it were anyone else, I would’ve said yes. But Billy Hargrove had a reputation for being a bully. He had never spoken to me before, so I wasn’t sure if this was a joke or not. For all I knew, Billy was about to splash me like every other car had done, or would take me further away from home and dump me on the side of the road.

I shook my head and continued walking. Billy drove beside me at a slow pace to keep up with me.

“Are you sure? You look like you’re pretty soaked already. How far do you have to walk?”

“I-I’m o-okay. Th-thanks,” I stuttered, trying to suppress a shiver.

“(Y/N),” he said, shocking me by knowing my name. “You’re shivering so bad you look like you’re vibrating. I’m not gonna do anything to hurt you. Just let me drive you home so you don’t end up sick.”

I had to admit, the offer was hard to pass up. The thought of walking another few miles in the rain already had me feeling exhausted.

So, I got into the passenger seat of Billy Hargrove’s car.

He already had the heat turned on, so I was immediately engulfed in warmth. I put my soaked backpack at my feet. I was dreading the damage that had undoubtably happened to the books in there. The school was going to fine me a fortune if the textbooks were too damaged.

“Here.” I looked over at Billy as he shrugged out of his leather jacket. “It’ll help you warm up quicker.”

I took the jacket and pulled it on. It smelled incredibly good. I stopped myself from pulling it closer around me and inhaling the scent.

I gave Billy my address and we drove off towards my house. The ride was mostly silent besides the loud rock music coming from his stereo. As if reading my mind, Billy reached for the volume nob to turn the music down. I put my hand on his to stop him before quickly pulling away when I realized what I had done.

“Sorry,” I said. “But you don’t have to turn it down. I like rock.”

“Really?”

I gave him a playful look. “What? I don’t seem like the type?”

“Not at all, honestly.”

I chuckled. “Well, my dad loves rock music. It’s always playing when he’s home. Mom says she hates it, but I think she secretly loves it but doesn’t want dad to know.”

Billy was smiling as he focused on the road ahead of him while driving.

“So,” I started, trying to keep the conversation going, “where’s your sister? Max, right?”

I realized that was actually the wrong thing to say when Billy’s smile dropped. “I don’t know. Off with one of her boyfriends, I guess.”

“One of? You mean that group of kids who play D&D? They’re really nice, actually. If they’re friends, that’s great for Max.”

“Yeah, frankly I don’t give a shit.”

I felt my heart drop to my stomach and I sunk back in my seat. Where did the hostility come from all of a sudden? We had been getting along just fine until now.

Billy looked over at me and sighed. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for. Max isn’t my sister, she’s my step-sister. I’m just tired of having to look out for her as if we were actually related.”

“You may not be blood related, but you’re a family now because of your parents, and I guess everyone just assumes that it’s the big brother’s job to look out for the little sister.”

“She seems to do fine on her own with that,” Billy said. “I’ll be her chauffer and that’s where it ends for me.”

I decided to drop the subject there. It was clearly not something he liked talking about and I really did not want to make Billy upset. Things were going well so far and I had a feeling I didn’t want to get on Billy’s bad side.

The rest of the ride was pretty silent besides the music. I desperately wanted Billy to say something, or to come up with something to say myself to break the tension, but nothing came. I was almost disappointed when we pulled up to my house and our time had to come to an end.

I started to take off Billy’s jacket but he stopped me. “Keep it. For now, anyways.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Yeah. It looks good on you.”

I felt my face heat up and I quickly looked away from him so he wouldn’t see.

I opened the door and started getting out when he asked, “Hey, do you have a ride to school tomorrow?”

“I usually take the bus,” I responded.

“I’ll come get you tomorrow.”

It wasn’t a question, so he didn’t give me any room to reject his offer. Not that I was going to. I smiled and nodded, mumbling a quick thank you before getting out of the car and running to my door. Once I was inside and out of Billy’s sight, I pulled his jacket close to me and took a deep breath, savoring the scent; his scent.

~~~~~~

The next morning, as promised, Billy’s car was in my driveway. This time, a head of red hair was sat in the front seat as I approached.

I opened the back door, thinking that’s where I was going to be sitting, but Billy quickly cut me off. “Maxine, get in the back.”

“Why?” Max demanded.

“Just get in the back!”

Max rolled her eyes and jumped over the center console to get into the backseat. I closed the door and got into the passenger seat instead. I had Billy’s jacket in my arms and went to pass it to him, but he stopped me again.

“You can wear today if you want. I’ll get it from you at the end of the day.”

I was too stunned to speak, so I just put on his jacket in silence, trying to hide the wide grin on my face.

Understandably, everyone at school looked at me with shock as I got out of Billy’s car with his jacket on. His usual trio of admirers glared at me as I walked past them, trying to keep my head down as to not make eye contact with them. The staring continued right up to my locker, where I finally took off the jacket and put it away for safe keeping.

I hated being the center of attention like this. I wasn’t a popular girl; I was the exact opposite actually. I was quiet, I kept to myself. I was invisible to all of these people normally. But now I was the big thing to talk about in school. The quiet girl who showed up to school with Billy Hargrove, wore his leather jacket, caught his eye as she walked past him to get to her class.

Just before I turned into my classroom, I met eyes with Billy and he winked at me. Suddenly, the embarrassment from all the attention I was getting washed away and I smiled as I disappeared into the room.

~~~~~~

That’s how it all started. One ride home on a rainy day, one trade of a leather jacket. When I got into Billy’s car to go home that night, he denied taking his jacket back again.

“I’ll get it tomorrow,” he had said.

Eventually, I stopped offering it to him. Eventually, it became routine that he would pick me up in the mornings and bring me home in the afternoons. Eventually, we started eating lunch together and spending time together after school and on weekends.

Eventually, Billy Hargrove became my boyfriend.

The first few weeks of our relationship, although I was loving the attention he was giving me, I found myself on edge. Like I was waiting for the big reveal that all of this was a joke. That he was just building me up to break my heart for laughs. That maybe he was dared by his friends to try and seduce the quiet girl for some sort of prize or arbitrary school title.

I decided to bring this up to Billy one night while we were hanging out in my bedroom. The look on his face when I said it was enough to confirm to me that this relationship was real to him.

“Why would you think that?” he asked.

I shrugged, looking away from him. “I don’t know, I just don’t see why you’d be interested in me. It’s not like we run around in the same friend group or anything, or even the same clique. We’re in completely different circles, and I...we’re...different.”

“Because I’m a bully and you’re the sweetest girl in school?”

I felt my face heat up in embarrassment. I tried to deny what he said, but it all came out as a bunch of stutters instead.

Billy chuckled. “It’s okay, you can agree with me. I know how people view me. I’m not entirely ashamed to be seen that way, but I hope you don’t see me the way others at school do.”

I shook my head. “I don’t. I’ll be honest, you’ve really surprised me with how nice you are. I’ve never heard of this side of you before.”

“I don’t show it very often. Being nice like this is...well, it’s weakness. I don’t want to be perceived as weak.”

I furrowed my eyebrows together. “Being nice isn’t weakness.”

“It is where I’m from.”

I didn’t know what that meant, but I didn’t want to ask him.

I found out days later when my mom came to my room and said, “Billy’s here. He’s bleeding. He looks upset.”

I rushed down to the front door to find Billy stood there, his hands shoved into his pockets and his head hung low. I reached out for him, taking his face in my hands to make him look at me. When he did, I gasped. There was a trail of blood running from both nostrils down over his mouth and chin.

“Billy,” I breathed. “What happened?”

He didn’t respond. I brought him into the house and led him to our bathroom. I ran warm water over a cloth and gently wiped the blood from his face. When I touched his nose, he flinched. I pulled my hand back, cringing at seeing him in pain.

“Who did this to you?” I asked him, my voice gentle.

He still wouldn’t look at me, so I took his face in my hands again and made him look in my eyes. I could see that his eyes were bloodshot and tears were pooling up around the brim of his eyes. This was all I needed to get an idea of who had hurt Billy, and, for the first time in my life, I felt a type of rage inside of me that made me want to go over to Billy’s house and make the person who hurt him feel the same level of pain.

“God, I’m such a fucking pussy,” he muttered, quickly rubbing the tears from his eyes. His voice broke as he spoke and it made my heart ache for him.

“You’re not a pussy,” I told him. “Nobody here is going to judge you for being upset, especially not me. I don’t know who told you that you have to be this emotionless, heartless piece of shit in order to get by in this world, but you don’t have to be that around me. If you need to be upset, if you need to cry over your d - over whoever did this to you, then you can do that here.”

Billy looked at me, the tears brimming in his eyes again, before he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to him. He buried his head in the crook of my neck and I could feel his body shaking slightly as he began to cry. I held him tightly as he let all of his sadness out. I had never seen Billy cry before. In fact, I don’t think I had ever really seen him upset over anything. So to just stand there, letting him cry on my shoulder, nothing to do besides to be his emotional anchor, really broke my heart for him.

When he pulled away, his eyes were puffy and his face was tearstained. I turned on the cold water and soaked the cloth again before lightly dabbing his eyes and wiping his entire face. I ran my hands through his hair, fixing a few of the stray hairs that had been out of place.

“I love you, you know,” he said, taking my hands in his as I lowered them from his head.

“I love you, too,” I responded.

“Picking you up that day in the rain was honestly the best decision I could’ve ever made.”

“I was so surprised when you did it. You didn’t seem like the type to offer random, soaking wet girls a ride home.”

“The truth is, I actually have had a crush on you for a while. I never thought you could ever like me back because...well...I am who I am. But that day when I saw you walking home, I knew I couldn’t just drive past and let you go on in the pouring rain. Even if that was the only interaction we’d ever have.”

I leaned in close to him, taking in his warmth and that smell that I could easily get intoxicated with. “And look what happened instead.”

“The best thing to ever happen to me,” he mumbled against my head.

I looked up at him and gave him a quick kiss before pulling away. “You’re going to stay here tonight. It’s been decided. I don’t want to hear any arguments or anything. You can stay in the spare room, and you can stay as long as you need to.”

A relieved look passed over Billy’s face as he pulled me in for another kiss. I giggled as he picked me up in his arms and sat me on the bathroom counter, deepening the kiss and tangling his fingers in my hair.

“I really love you,” he said again.

“I love you, too, Billy,” I said. “For now and forever.”

“Promise?”

I nodded. “Promise.”

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader #dacre montgomery #dacre montgomery imagine #dacre montgomery x reader #stranger things #stranger things imagine #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

2K notes · View notes

bookshelf-dust · 1 year

Text

the hurt is good

part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi

billy hargrove x fem!reader

word count: 3,705

warnings: swearing, brief mentions of blood/anxious lip picking, anxiety attack, talk of self-harming behaviors, mentions of abuse/toxic relationships/neil, fluff

a/n: wow. hi! i’m sorry it took so long for me to get this out. school has been a lot lately. thank you for all the positive feedback on the previous parts and for sticking around! also this isn’t the last part. i lied. there will be one more. anyhow there’s a lot of heavy stuff in this part, but also a lot of love. i hope you enjoy it and maybe find something in it. love you loads and loads <3333

before you read, listen to: when it’s cold i’d like to die by moby and/or slipping through my fingers by ABBA

————

Billy did not hear from you yesterday, or the day before that. He hasn’t been worried, per say, because it’s not like he’ll die if he can’t speak to you at all times.

But today, on the third day, he starts to be a little upset by the absence of you.

He really doesn’t like it when it’s Nicky that calls him, rather than you.

“Are you busy today, hon’?” Her voice is sweet as always.

“No, I’m not,” Billy tells her. He licks his lips, a little uneasy.

“Do you think you could come over for a while?”She asks. “Y/N just left, which is big, but she’s going out with some old friends, and I’m a little worried. She had a really hard time getting over them, and I’ve got somewhere to be for awhile and I just don’t want her to be alone after all of this.”

Nicky stops, inhaling. She realizes she’s been rambling to her poor boy. She starts to apologize, and Billy stops her, laughing a little.

“I can do that, yeah. Who was she having lunch with? If you don’t mind me asking.”

He can hear Nicky sigh.

“Nancy.”

————

Billy is on your front steps when you pull up. He’s smoking, but he stomps it out when he sees you.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he says.

Your hands are shaking so bad that you drop your keys. Billy picks them up for you, and it’s only when he looks you over that he realizes something’s not right.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

You’re wringing your hands continuously, as if trying to prevent doing something else. He steps closer to you, because you’re biting his lip, and he goes to pull it free like he always does.

There’s blood on the tip of his thumb when he pulls it away.

“Y/N, you’ve made yourself bleed.”

You lick your lips, tasting metal. You blink at him. Billy looks closer at your mouth, realizing there’s a welt and that it’s swollen on one side.

“Come on and let me clean it up, okay?”

You nod and let the boy lead you inside your home. Billy tries to get you to sit on the counter, but you stop him.

“I just need a second,” you say.

It’s the first thing you’ve said to him thus far, and Billy finds himself relieved to hear your voice, even if the shakiness of it matches that of your hands.

You use your hands to brace yourself against the counter, leaning your head forward to face the floor. You close your eyes and try to breathe.

Billy doesn’t know what to do, so he rubs his hand up and down the curve of your spine. It feels warm against your back.

He kisses the crown of your head and suddenly you straighten, a slightly panicked look in your eye, though Billy can tell you’re trying to repress it.

“I need you to help me,” you tell him, running your hands down your face.

“Anything,” Billy says, worried over your state of being.

“I’m having an anxiety attack and I need you to help calm me down because my heart is beating so fast that I feel like I can’t breathe and everything is shaking and I just—I just, I need you.”

“To talk to me or something. I need you to be here with me for a minute.”

“Okay.” He doesn’t need convincing.

Billy brings his hands to your face, stroking his thumbs over your unusually warm cheeks. His eyes dart all over you.

“Look at me,” he says.

You nod, locking your eyes with his. You study his eyelashes, the way they kiss at the corners and leave shadows on the tops of his cheeks in the light.

“Breathe with me.”

“Okay.”

In and out. In and out. You focus on the way Billy is breathing, and that seems to help. You watch the steady rise and fall of his chest rather than worrying about the feeling in yours.

“How long do they usually last?” Billy inquires. “The heart palpitations.”

“Little while. Half hour, little less, little more. Depends on if I can get myself calmed down.”

Billy presses his lips to your forehead, keeping them there for a moment. They’re chapped, but it’s still chilly outside, so it makes sense. The cold is the same reason for the cracks in the skin on the back of your hands.

“Sit up on the counter for me, baby. I’m gonna get you some water, okay? I’ll be right back, I promise.”

You do as he says, balancing yourself on the edge of the bathroom vanity. Your tongue darts out to swipe over your lip, and Billy was right. You can feel the swelling and the welt he mentioned.

You’ve always done it when stressed or uncomfortable. It’s not always this bad though. You just kept going and going after lunch today, even after it had started to bleed.

The boy returns as he’d said he would, a glass of water in hand. He gives it to you and watches to make sure you’re successfully drinking.

“Can I look at it?” Billy gestures vaguely in the direction of your lip.

“Uh huh.” You fight the urge to cover your mouth like you have before, like when your mother has noticed it’s scabbed.

Billy uses his thumb to press on your lip, examining the damage you’ve done to it. He’s chewed his before when anxious, but never like this. But he guesses he’s expressed these feelings you’re having in other ways.

He takes the change to pull at your lip a little too, noticing you’ve torn at the inside just as well as the outside.

“It hurt?”

You snort. “No. Feels great.”

Billy rolls his eyes at you, and then he’s feeling around in his pockets. You take another big sip of water while you’re observing him. It’s almost empty, so you decide to finish it. He waits for you to do so.

When you have, Billy swipes his pinky along the edge of your mouth to catch a drop of water. He presents what he’d been searching for: a little pot of chapstick. He figures if you’ve got something on your lips you can’t fuck them up as easily.

“You gonna let me put this on you?” He asks, features soft.

“Kiss it better first?”

Billy smirks, proud of your ability to flirt with him.

“I shouldn’t. Should leave it alone until it heals some.”

You pout.

He kisses you anyways.

When he pulls away, he unscrews the lid to the balm and you hook your fingers in his belt loops. He dips his index finger in and brings it to your mouth, spreading it over the sore spot and then over the remaining expanse of your lips.

You rub them together after he’s finished.

“Thank you.” Billy nods, returning the container to the depths of his jean pockets.

“Will you tell me what’s got you so worked up?” He helps you off of the counter. You leave the bathroom and head to your bedroom. He follows without a second thought.

You gesture for him to sit down, but you remain standing so that you can pace as you speak.

“I saw Nancy today.”

“Yeah?” Billy knows this, and you know he does, but he wants you to let it all out.

“Yeah,” you start. “She asked me how I was doing. I told her that I was doing okay.”

“And she said ‘You must be doing better if you’re out by yourself, doing big girl stuff.’ What the fuck does that even mean, Billy?” It’s a rhetorical question. One he doesn’t answer.

“She made it sound like I was incapable of being anything but a loner. Like I can’t take care of myself or something? It just got me thinking about how she always thought I was so odd for not being like her.”

Billy wishes you would sit down. Your pacing is stressing him out.

“Then Nancy asked me if I was seeing anyone, and I said you.”

You sit, and Billy’s shoulders relax.

“She acted surprised, Billy.”

“She said, ‘I guess I’m just shocked. I guess I thought he wasn’t someone that really dated.’ And then, ‘You know, I know we aren’t really close anymore, but you could so do better than him.’”

You’re standing again. Billy realizes that you’re pissed off. He’s never seen you this way before. He kind of likes it.

“And she’s basing this off of, what, one interaction she’s had with you? Whatever she hears around school? Shit, she doesn’t even know you. She doesn’t even know me anymore, and the fact that she’s just blatantly giving me relationship advice?”

“Billy, I yelled at her.”

He laughs. Tosses his head back and laughs. He wishes he could’ve seen you rip Nancy Wheeler a new one. In fact, he would’ve paid to do so.

You start grinning at him. He’s so proud of you.

“I just—she made me so mad and I just started shouting at her. It just felt so unfair, the way she was acting. I only agreed to go today because I thought I might get closure after feeling forgotten about for so long. And I told her that.”

“She claimed she didn’t forget about me, but that she just ‘found a different social circle.’ Fuck! So I told her that she had no right telling me what to do with my life when she sure as shit never cared before. And I couldn’t let her talk about you either.”

You finish, setting your hands on your hips. Billy stands and takes your face into his hands again.

“I’m proud of you, Y/N. That you went out today and then stood up for yourself. The yelling is pretty badass too. And I appreciate you defending me. It’s nice to know you’d do that even when I’m not there.”

“Of course I would.” You grab his hand and kiss his palm. “Thank you.”

He nods. “So how come you fucked up your lip then?”

“Trying to deal with it, I guess. I felt bad the whole way home. Like maybe I’d been a bitch or something.”

“Hey, no. You aren’t a bitch for wanting better and for saying so.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m positive.”

The both of you have been so caught up in handling this that you didn’t hear Nicky come home, or wander through the house putting groceries away. You only realize she’s there when her voice comes from across the hall.

“He’s right, honeybee! Not a bitch!” She exclaims, and then she’s shutting the door to her room. She just needed to make sure you heard that. She’s proud of you too.

You bury your face in Billy’s neck and he’s laughing so much that you have to move your head.

“I hate you both.”

“I bet you do. Guess you won’t need any make-it-better kisses then.”

“Asshole.”

“Yeah. Nope. No more.”

“Please?” You grab hold of his hips.

Billy stares at you. He’s going to break. You both know it. But he can’t resist the urge to pretend like he won’t, just for a second.

He kisses you, once, twice.

When he pulls away he puts an arm around you, his hand resting on the small of your back. His fingertips slip just underneath the waistband of your jeans. Suddenly he looks very serious.

“Have you done that before?” He asks. You know what he means. And you know the answer.

“Yes,” you say. Billy closes his his for just a second. Something about composure.

“Do you—is it to hurt yourself?”

You’re quiet for a moment, thinking. Trying to articulate a response to this. It’s an anxious habit, sure. Sometimes you’re picking at your lip without even realizing, and you quit when you do.

But other times, maybe that is the case. You pick and bite until your lip is bleeding, until it’s swollen, until it hurts to eat or drink.

“Sometimes.”

Billy inhales and you can see the way his chest shakes.

“Talk to me,” he says. He thinks about chewing on his thumb nail or lighting up. It’s the same thing. A coping mechanism.

“I usually do it if I feel like I need to shut everything out. It’s a distraction from big feelings. Maybe like a punishment if I feel stupid or if I’ve embarrassed myself.”

“You ever told anyone this before?” Billy has pulled you closer than you thought possible, his arm around your back snug like he’s afraid to let you go.

“Just you.”

Billy feels a pang in his chest at that. Just you. Him.

“I don’t want you to shut them out anymore. You feel something big, you talk to me about it, yeah?”

“Okay.” You look so vulnerable. Like he’s looking at a part of yourself you’ve never shown anyone before.

“I don’t want you to hurt yourself. Will you work on this with me?”

“Only if you work on the smoking with me.”

Billy rests his forehead against yours, exhales through his nose.

“Okay.”

————

Billy’s staying the night again. You’re in the shower, so he’s sitting at the counter in your kitchen. He offered to help Nicky fix dinner or wash dishes or do something, but she downright refused.

He’s turned his head to look at a picture of you on the counter. Your senior picture. You look so pretty.

This means that the side of his face is in Nicky’s direct line of sight. The side that Neil hit. He side that’s bruised, despite his hoping it wouldn’t.

Nicky looks up, feeling a jolt in her chest. Something in her just knows. If Billy had been in a fight, you would’ve told her. She knows you would’ve. But if it was a non-school fight, those chances are slim.

She knows. Every cell in her body screams with it.

“Billy, honey? Can I ask you something?”

The boy turns back to face your mother, spinning the ring on his middle finger around and around. “Sure.”

She moves to face the sink so as to not embarrass him.

“How long?”

Billy’s fingers freeze. She knows. Of course she knows. He thinks about pretending he doesn’t have clue what she means. But he knows she’d see right through that.

He buries his face in his hands. “Since I was a kid. Since he couldn’t take it out on my mom anymore.”

Nicky sets the plate she’d been holding down to dry and drains the water from the sink. Dishes can wait.

“Billy, you don’t have to hide from me. You’re safe here. I think we’ve made that pretty clear, sweetheart.”

The boy straightens and sits on his hands.

“I’m assuming Y/N knows? Probably already looked at it?”

He nods. “Yeah.”

Nicky approaches the other side of the counter from where he sits and clasps her hands. “You know that you can come here anytime you need to, right?”

“I know.”

“Y/N said Max is your step-sister. Is your father aggressive towards her or your step-mother?”

Billy hates being asked these questions but for some reason he feels no urge to fight it. He knows Nicky means no harm and only wants the best for him.

“He’s never laid a hand on Max, no. I wouldn’t let that happen. I’m not really around Susan much, though, but I’ve never seen her with anything or heard him do anything. He screams at her sometimes, though. He’s a piece of shit. He doesn’t treat her any better than he did my mom. They deserve better. Both of them.”

Nicky quirks a brow. “And you don’t?”

Billy’s breath catches. “I don’t know.”

“You do. You deserve the world, hon’.”

Billy blinks, hard. “Thank you.”

“Just telling you the truth, kiddo.”

Nicky goes quiet for a moment, playing with her own rings. One of them you got for her when you were twelve. It has her birthstone set into it.

“You’re eighteen, Billy. Technically your dad doesn’t have any claims to you anymore.” She’s slowly plotting, a steady stream of thoughts forming in her mind.

“Supposing you want to stay with Max, or even in your own home—because I can’t imagine you’d want to be uprooted again—do you think that Susan is capable of taking care of herself and the both of you? Say if Neil weren’t around?”

Billy contemplates this. He’s trying to get past the knowledge that there’s an adult in his life actively and genuinely trying to help him and make sure he’s safe. No one’s ever had a heart-to-heart with him like this. Frankly, he’s at a loss.

“I suppose so. I mean she took care of Max before. And Max was a pretty happy kid, I think. You know, internally. If you look past the sarcasm.”

Nicky laughs. It’s the kind of sound that you miss when you haven’t heard it in awhile.

“I think Max only got sort of reclusive once Neil came in and sort of pushed her dad out. I don’t think I helped either. But yeah, I-I think she could. Take care of us.”

“And I feel wrong saying this, because she’s not my mother, and it’s her life, but I think she needs better. If she wants Max back then she needs to leave Neil. Because Susan is losing Max. I can see it.”

Billy hears the shower shut off from down the hall, the sound of the curtain being pushed aside.

“What if I talked to Susan? Would that make you uncomfortable? Maybe I can get through to her. About Neil. And I can talk to Max, or I can back off.”

He hears the bathroom door open. Sees a flash of you across the hallway in a towel, then the slam of your own bedroom door. It makes him laugh.

Nicky knows exactly what you’ve done. You’ve done the same thing since you were a kid. It warms her heart to see him laugh at little things like that.

“No. It wouldn’t make me uncomfortable,” Billy says. “I would appreciate that, actually. But maybe let me talk to Max first?”

“Anything you need, honey. And I want you to know that this is a safe space, okay? If you ever need somewhere to stay. And the same goes for Max. If she needs to get away or anything.”

Billy looks up at Nicky and she has the kindest smile he’s ever seen. He knows she means everything she’s saying.

He has the urge to hug her and so he does. He hasn’t had a mom to hug in so long.

————

Billy’s driving again. It seems this is the only time he can get himself to talk about the hard stuff with her.

“Max.”

“Huh?” She’s reading a comic book. He doesn’t know how she does that. He’d probably hurl.

“Nicky wants to help Susan leave Neil.”

Max doesn’t move or close the comic, but she does stare at the page for an awfully long time. “So what does that mean?”

“I don’t know, exactly. But I was wondering…do you want me to leave too? Or can I stay?”

Billy has never sounded this raw and emotional around her before. It’s enough to make her face him.

“You think you have to leave?”

“I don’t know if you or Susan are going to want me to stay.”

Max sighs. “I want you to stay. It’d be weird to not have someone in the next room with horrible music playing. Do you want to go?”

“No,” he says, fingers gripping the steering wheel.

“Then stay.”

Stay.

————

“So you’ve verbally brutalized two of the Wheeler women in the last couple of weeks?”

You’re laying on Max’s bed. You can’t help but notice it’s softer than Billy’s but you try not to ponder that for too long.

Susan and Neil aren’t here.

“I wonder if Mike knows this. That he’s got a predatory mother.”

“I don’t know.” You roll onto your back and stare at the posters on her walls.

“If it helps,” she says, pasting a new sticker on her skateboard, “I never liked Nancy anyways. Kinda bitchy.”

You snort, looking at her sticker as she presents it to you. “Very nice,” you say.

“Lucas got it for me.”

“That was sweet of him.”

This time she snorts.

There’s the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. “Uh oh,” you say. “The beast has awoken.”

Max laughs hard enough that she has to slap a hand over her mouth when he appears in the doorway.

Billy looks at you with a scowl on his face before approaching Max’s bed. He flops down on top of you and buries his face in your neck.

“You left me,” he says.

It’s true. You’d been in his room with him, snuggling, though he refuses to call it that. He’d fallen asleep on you, but you didn’t have a book or anything, so after a while, spine aching, you slipped out and left him to nap.

A glance at Max and she’s making a gagging motion at you. You glare toward the sticker she just put on and she rolls her eyes, cornered.

“You fell asleep. I wanted you to rest. And my back started to hurt.” Billy grunts, and you notice the mess that his hair has become. You point it out to Max. She starts grinning and so do you, and it’s as if he can sense it.

“Stop.”

“Not doing anything.”

Billy lifts his head to look at you, brow furrowed and eyes puffy with sleep. There are even sheet marks on the side of his face.

“You’re conspiring.” He collapses back into your chest. “Little shits, both of you.”

You laugh and he whines again because you’ve jostled him.

You look at Max and she crosses her legs over Billy’s back, using her brother as a foot rest. He’s too sleepy to complain. She puts a pillow under her head and settles in, seemingly ready to take her own nap.

Shit, you think. Might as well. And you close your eyes too, petting Billy’s hair as you do. He smiles into you. You can feel it.

And it’s the best nap you’ve ever had.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x fem!reader #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove comfort #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove angst #billy stranger things #billy stranger things fic #stranger things fic #max mayfield #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove series #savannah’s fics

566 notes · View notes

berry-loves-yandere · 2 years

Text

Saccharine pt.2

Yandere Stranger Things characters with an overly sweet darling headcanons:

Characters: Steve Harrington, Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, Billy Hargrove, Robin Buckley, Eddie Munson

Warnings: stalking, kidnapping, obsessive behaviours, possessive behaviours, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationships, delusional characters, manipulation, bullying, drug mention

Steve Harrington:

❤️ He would probably ask his darling out on a date once he notices their sweet attitude

❤️ Even if they don’t end up dating Steve acts as if they are

❤️ Would tell people they’re dating to keep them away from his darling

❤️ He’d always be super nice to his darling as well and do things that friends and couples do

❤️ Would be extremely touchy and clingy

❤️ Over-protective crossing into possessive behaviour

❤️ Since his darling is kind to everyone, including people who are rude to them or hurt them, Steve envisions himself as a knight in shining armour saving his darling

❤️ If his darling is uncomfortable around Steve, they’re so nice that they’d never bring it forward to anyone and Steve takes advantage of that

❤️ In his desperation to protect his darling, he would probably kidnap them

❤️ Even after kidnapping his darling, he would never be cruel to them and shower them with love and affection

Nancy Wheeler:

📝 Would become good friends with her darling due to her enjoying their kind nature

📝 After her break up with Steve and all of the crazy stuff happening in Hawkins that she’s involved in, she’d probably find comfort in her sweet and caring darling who has a normal life

📝 (If darling was male) She would only date Jonathan if her darling was dating someone else at the time

📝 (If darling is female or other) She would date Jonathan because dating her darling wouldn’t be socially acceptable

📝 When she dates Jonathan, all she can imagine is her darling and how her darling would act on dates

📝 Would sometimes slip up and almost call Jonathan by her darling’s name

📝 After the July 4th incident, she would check to see if her darling was one of the people who got added to the Mind Flayer’s physical form

📝 Once the Byers + Eleven move to Lenora, Nancy becomes a bit more clingy with her darling

📝 She would likely begin to try to manipulate her darling into having feelings for her

📝 After the events of season 4, she makes sure her darling isn’t injured in any way, shape or form

📝 When Jonathan returns, she pretends to be happy but is actually pissed off since he would be slowing or stopping her plans to finally confess to her darling

Jonathan Byers:

📸 First meeting would most likely be his darling felt bad seeing Jonathan by himself all the time and assigned themselves to be his friend

📸 His darling would offer to help put up posters for Will when he went missing which definitely warmed Jonathan’s heart

📸 During the entire duration of Will’s disappearance and death, Jonathan’s darling would probably be similar to an emotional support animal for him

📸 Eventually when Jonathan and Nancy start dating, he isn’t yet sure of his feelings for his darling but they’re solidified when he sees his darling kissing someone who isn’t him

📸 Throughout his relationship with Nancy, he would picture his darling in her place

📸 He’d stalk and take pictures of his darling without them knowing

📸 If they had a movie night and his darling fell asleep, he would sneak off to grab his camera and start taking pictures of their sleeping body

📸 When he moves to Lenora with his family, he would call his darling every day

📸 Would beg request his darling to fly over to Lenora to visit him during summer vacation or winter break or spring break, knowing that his darling is too nice to decline

📸 If he’s ever stoned around his darling, he’d accidentally confessed his true feelings for them which causes some tension that Jonathan ignores

📸 Even if his darling is uncomfortable around Jonathan, they’re so nice that they’d never bring it forward to anyone and Jonathan takes advantage of that

Billy Hargrove:

🚬 Definitely irritated by their sweet nature at first since they’d always be doing things like helping people with homework or handing out cookies and Billy takes that as sympathy, which he despises

🚬 If his darling begins giving him more attention than others, he’ll be pissed since he’ll think that his darling considers him weak

🚬 Would probably bully his darling for a while until their sweet personality grows on him

🚬 He’d then have others beat up his darling and he’d pretend to be a knight in shining armour then help patch them up afterwards

🚬 He has love-hate feelings for his darling since he despises sympathy but adores his darling’s care

🚬 After fights with his father, he’d probably go to his darling, wanting to be patched up, which his darling would do without hesitation

🚬 After a while, he’d love their kindness and crave their affection

🚬 But Billy would also be very jealous since his darling shows kindness to everyone, including people he deems unworthy of it

🚬 Billy would totally kidnap his darling using chloroform when his jealousy reacts it’s peak level

🚬 He would try not to be like his father but might actually hurt his darling during a fit of rage

Robin Buckley:

🎺 Robin would instantly be head over heels for a super sweet darling

🎺 Her darling would definitely listen as Robin would ramble about different subjects, which Robin adores

🎺 They’re probably in band together and Robin’s darling would visit Robin at Scoops Ahoy

🎺 Robin also listens intently to everything her darling would say

🎺 She probably has Steve try to help her figure out if her darling is sapphic or not

🎺 After the whole July 4th incident and Robin and Steve getting new jobs at Family Video, Robin and her darling’s friendship improves since they can spend more time together without Robin having to go somewhere to attend to a customer

🎺 Would accidentally confess her feelings to her darling in a ramble

Eddie Munson:

🎸 Very shocked at first since everyone considers him and his friends ‘freaks’

🎸 Would adore the kind attention they give him and even though he would never admit it, it’s extremely obvious

🎸 He would melt at their compliments about his guitar skills or the campaign he’s writing

🎸 He’d be super clingy and try to always have his darling around him

🎸 Eddie would love having his darling listen to him as he rambles about Metallica or other metal bands

🎸 Eddie would have his darling watch his band ‘Corroded Coffin’ practice since he knew they’d give supportive and sweet feedback

🎸 Would give his darling a ticket to every gig that Corroded Coffin has

🎸 He would do things that could be considered platonic or romantic, like wrapping an arm around his darling’s shoulders or holding their hand

🎸 If he did get really jealous, he’d probably drug and kidnap his darling

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere stranger things #yandere stranger things x reader #stranger things #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #billy hargrove #robin buckley #eddie munson #yandere steve harrington #yandere nancy wheeler #yandere jonathan byers #yandere billy hargrove #yandere robin buckley #yandere eddie munson

1K notes · View notes

luminnara · 2 years

Text

I would hit him in a heartbeat now. || Billy Hargrove x Reader

Summary: Billy and the reader both come from abusive households. You both know a thing or two about split lips and broken noses. You discover that you each have that in common...and god, you wish you didn’t.

Warnings: mentions of abuse

Just a short lil thing that was supposed to be longer, but then I stole half of it for cherry bomb lol

I was far too scared to hit him

But I would hit him in a heartbeat now.

You knew a thing or two about split lips and bloody knuckles.

You were very familiar with yelling and screaming and slammed doors.

You knew all too well how a fist felt yanking on hair, and how to pretend that nothing had happened. Because you couldn’t tell, you never could. You could never even talk about it, they told you. If you did, you’d be taken away, far away, and that always felt scarier than the punishments. You deserved those, anyways.

That’s what your parents always told you.

When you were bad, you were punished. It was simple. They wanted you to be quiet, to only speak when spoken to, to be the perfect child in the perfect family. They had tempers, though, tempers that had been passed on to you, and you were never quiet or reserved.

You didn’t know how to be.

Maybe it was because you wanted to act out. They were stifling you, keeping you from growing into yourself, and you felt stunted and angry. You couldn’t show it, though; every time you fought, which was too often, they made sure that you received twice as hard a beating at home if they found out about it. That only made you angrier, though…angrier and more confused, because you were supposed to be good and your family was supposed to be happy, so why did this feel so wrong?

Sometimes, you tried to rationalize it. Your parents were just harsh. Some people were just like that. They ran a tight ship, that was all. But then, you would make a mistake and you would already be shaking like a leaf before the yelling even began, and you knew that you’d drawn the short straw for families.

You couldn’t talk about it, though. And really, who would care? Plenty of people had issues with their folks. You weren’t special.

And the thought of telling anyone terrified you more than your parents did, because you knew what would happen if you blamed the bruises on anything other than your own clumsiness.

—————-

“God, isn’t he dreamy?” Carol asked as fresh lipstick swept over her bottom lip.

“Who?” Vicki asked from the next sink over.

“Billy Hargrove,” Carol rolled her eyes. “Duh.”

“Uh, he’s totally dreamy,” Tina cut in. “I swear his butt gets better every day.”

You stifled a sigh as you slipped past them and out the bathroom door. The popular girls always talked about Billy like that; in fact, that was tame. You’d overheard conversations that made it seem like they viewed him as more of a piece of meat than a person.

You didn’t really get it. He was cute. Hot, even. You watched him as he played basketball just like they all did, with your eyes glued to his broad shoulders and to his handsome face, wishing that you could have a chance with him. The difference between you and girls like Tina and Carol, though, was that you really didn’t think you did, because you just...weren’t the kind of girl that guys went for.

Especially not guys like Billy Hargrove.

As you walked down the hall, you found that you couldn’t get him off your mind. Yeah, you were crushing on him, big time...and you knew that it was useless, and there was no point to it, but you couldn’t help yourself. He was the town bad boy, and he was tough and confident and he always knew exactly how to pose to get everybody hot and bothered. He didn’t date, though, not really, and he rarely went out with the same girl more than two times. And they always loved riding in his car, because afterwards, they would gather in the bathroom and talk all about it, spilling all the juicy details for everyone else to ooh and ahh over.

That’s what made you realize that even though he was rude and a total womanizer, they weren’t very nice to him, either. They were all always just using each other and then tossing each other aside, and sometimes, you felt like you were the only one who thought it was a little fucked up.

At the same time, you understood. The desire to feel wanted. The urge for something to make you feel a little better for a while. You weren’t hot like Billy, though; you couldn’t just have your pick of the crowd, and you were too nervous and too meek to ever be on anybody’s radar. Especially not Billy’s.

When you collided with something very solid, though, you suddenly found yourself on that radar, as more than just a small blip.

“I-I’m sorry!” You stammered, already hugging yourself as you began shivering. You hated running into people. You knew, in the logical part of your brain, that most people at school didn’t care. The worst they’d do was call you a name and move on. But the more reactionary part of your brain was immediately on high alert, moments from shutting down, running way too hot as your thoughts somehow raced and did nothing at all at the same time.

When you managed to glance up, your blood ran cold.

Billy Hargrove was glaring down at you, a hand hovering over his ribs on the side you’d collided with. It was a defensive movement, one that you thought you recognized…and when you looked at his eyes, you saw something that told you he was in pain.

You figured it was from a fight, or maybe PE. Or basketball. The possibilities were endless for a guy like Billy, and as he scowled down at you, you felt yourself growing fidgety.

“…it’s fine,” he finally said.

He was watching you like a hawk, and you felt like a scared little rabbit. You could see his eyes shift as they inspected you and you hugged yourself tighter, suddenly feeling so incredibly exposed. It was as if he could see everything, as if he knew everything, as if there was no secret in the world that you could hide from those gorgeous blue eyes of his.

Really, Billy had caught sight of a fading bruise on your forearm, barely visible where your sleeve had been pushed up when you hastily wrapped your arms around yourself. He had never had much of a chance to check you out, and he had never been particularly interested in doing so, but now that you were right there and he was in an alright mood, he was taking the time to...and honestly? He liked what he saw.

Except for the finger-shaped bruise.

There had to be more, and he was willing to bet that if there were, he’d see that they formed a familiar pattern.

“Really, I’m so sorry, I’m so clumsy...I should have been paying more attention, not being so stupid--”

“Hey.” he snapped, eyes finding yours again. They were so intense, so full of rage, that you wanted to shrink back and melt into the wall. “Cut that shit out. It’s not a big deal. I said it’s fine, so it’s fucking fine.”

You kept your mouth shut, nodding vigorously. “R-right. Yeah. So, um...I’ll see you around.”

When you hurriedly stepped around him, he turned to watch you go. “Hey. Hang on.”

You froze, turning to face him quickly. “Yeah/?”

“Me ‘n the guys are gonna be scrimmaging at lunch. You should come.”

“O-okay,” you managed, your voice sounding a bit strangled.

“Cool.” and with that, he shoved his hands in his pockets, hunting for a cigarette, and you scurried towards your locker.

You grabbed your lunch bag, holding it tightly as you made your way to the gym. You knew a lot of the other weirdos ate in there rather than the cafeteria, but you tended to avoid it. It was usually quiet, and sometimes, you preferred the white noise of a busy lunchroom over the echoing nothingness of an empty gym.

Today, though, it wasn’t empty. The guys from the basketball team were already there, Billy Hargrove included, and as you sank down onto the bleachers, you watched him. He was pulling off his shirt and tossing it aside, and there, on his torso, you could see a few blooming purple bruises.

Your heart sank. You knew what those were. When he caught your eye and you saw the serious look he was giving you, you could tell that he had invited you because he wanted you to see. As terrible a sight as it was, though, it made you feel…almost relieved, maybe? You realized that you were less alone, maybe. Less of an outsider. Because if Billy Hargrove also had bruises, then maybe they were nothing to be ashamed of.

He caught you after class that day, calling you over to his car. The air was tense for a moment, or maybe that was all in your head as you awkwardly avoided his eyes.

“Lemme give you a ride.”

So he did. You had him drop you off down the street, because you knew his car was loud, and you knew your parents wouldn’t take too kindly to it. As you moved to get out, he stopped you, giving you a serious look as he held your wrist gently.

“I’ll pick you up in the morning.” He said around a cigarette.

“You don’t have to…” you mumbled.

“I want to.”

“Why?”

He watched for a moment, and then sighed. “Wanna make sure you’re okay. I know what it’s like is all.”

Your heart was aching for him, and you barely even knew him. “I wish you didn’t…”

His eyes widened slightly. He suddenly looked lost and vulnerable, totally exposed. “I could say the same about you.”

“…hey.” You brushed your thumb over the back of his hand and then leaned in, pressing a light kiss against his cheek. “Thanks, Billy. I’ll…see you tomorrow.”

He stared at you as you got out of the car, and he lingered there at the end of your street as he watched you walk towards your house. “Yeah. See you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

#billy hargrove imagine #billy hargove x reader #stranger things x reader

2K notes · View notes

kaylawritesfics · 2 years

Note

any headcanons on being somewhat shorter than most of the boys in st? (Johnathan, Steve, billy, Eddie) such as how they would treat you and such since your quite a bit shorter preferably 5'5 ish?

omg yes i love this one

Stranger Things Boys with a Short S/O

headcanons

Steve Harrington:

Steve is like a solid 6 feet tall.

He absolutely loves being with someone shorter than him.

Having a tall s/o doesn’t bother him but there’s just something about being the tall one that boosts his ego.

His protectiveness is turned up like six notches because in his mind, being small means that you’re in more danger.

Absolutely walks behind you in the hallway and is like towering over you but he thinks it keeps people from running into you.

He’s definitely the boyfriend that lets you sit on his shoulders during concerts, irritating all the people behind you.

Jonathan Byers:

Jonathan really couldn’t care less how tall you are. He’s around 5’10 so he’s not short but definitely not as tall as the other boys on the list. Height isn’t really a big concern for him.

He loves to give you his sweaters because they hang low on you and he thinks it’s adorable, especially when you’re half asleep.

He’ll tease you sometimes if you’re comfortable with it. He’ll rest his arm on the top of your head or ask you how the weather is down there.

Will hits a growth spurt and is suddenly way taller than you. Jonathan will never let you live it down.

He’ll gets things off of high shelves or cabinets for you, asking for a kiss in return.

He likes taking pictures of you while you’re reaching for things, though. He thinks they’re absolutely the cutest.

Billy Hargrove:

Billy is an inch taller than Steve, standing firmly at 6’1. He towers over most people and a lot of his intimidation comes from his height.

I think he would definitely lead towards a shorter s/o. He really likes the idea of being the big strong man of the relationship.

He loves to manhandle you. Of course, in a (mostly) respectful way. He’ll pick you up and toss you onto his bed, throw you over his shoulder and smack your ass, pick you up and spin you around when he sees you after a long day, etc.

He absolutely loves when you wear his jacket. It adds to his whole “big, strong man” thing and he thinks that you look so cute drowning in it.

You spend more time over his shoulder than you do on the ground. He’ll pick you up anytime he possibly can. Whether you’re arguing with someone and he needs to drag you away or he just wants to carry you to his room for other activities.

At the end of the day, he really tries to handle you a little more gently than he does other people. Both because he loves you so much and because you’re so small.

Eddie Munson:

The tallest boy on the list, standing around 6’4. This man is a giant. He’s tall and lanky and his body is mostly made up of legs. You’re almost a whole foot shorter than him. He loves it.

He wants you to wear every single article of clothing he owns. You literally drown in them and most of his tshirts could be used as dresses on you. His Hellfire shirt is available to you whenever you want it.

Teases the absolute shit out of you !! Literally he’s relentless you will not get through one day without him making a short joke.

Even though he’s so much taller than you, he insists on being the little spoon almost all the time. He likes feeling your arms and legs wrapped around him (in more situations than one).

He likes carrying you around on his back. You wrap your arms and legs around him and he says you remind him of “a little monkey”, which usually earns him a smack to the back of his head.

He would absolutely tilt your head up with one finger so you’ll look him in the eyes.

2K notes · View notes

geekfanficwriter · 9 months

Text

Summer Lovin’- Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: You and Steve have a summer fling before you leave for college. It was meant to just be fun but you ended up falling for each other. Words: 2.3k Warnings: hurt/comfort, mild angst, sexual references

‘I mean punching Billy Hargrove is pretty badass.’ You laugh as Steve tells you another story. You were laying with your head on his chest, both of you completely naked and basking in the amazing sex the two of you had just had. The two of you had been hooking up all summer, well more than hooking up, you’d also been going on dates, there was only one problem; the fact you were moving away for college at the end of summer. So the both of you agreed to keep things casual, to just have fun. ‘Yeah, I felt really badass, having the shit beaten out of me.’ You felt Steve laugh slightly underneath you. ‘Well, it was good of you to stand up for the kids. It was really sweet, you’re really sweet.’ You say flipping onto your stomach so you were facing Steve. ‘You think I’m sweet, huh?’ Steve teases smiling down at you. ‘Umm…’ You say pretending to think. ‘I think you’re an incredibly sweet and caring guy who would do anything for the people he loves.’ Steve smiles in response pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You both sit in a comfortable silence, just enjoying each other’s company. After a few moments, you reach up and run your finger down the bridge of his nose. ‘I like your nose.’ You mumble. ‘My nose? I’ve had a lot of compliments but I don’t think anyone has ever complimented my nose.’ Steve laughed. ‘Well, I like your nose.’ You giggle leaning up and kissing him on the nose. Steve felt butterflies erupt in his stomach. ‘Oh fuck,’ he thought, ‘I think I’m in love.’

‘Look man, you either want the video or you don’t, just make up your mind and get the hell out.’ Steve snapped at the customer in front of him. The guy mumbled something about Steve being an asshole and then turned around and walked out. Steve sighed and ran his hand through his hair. ‘Okay, what’s up with you? You’ve been in a bad mood all day.’ Robin asked from behind him. ‘It’s nothing.’ He said, looking down at his feet. ‘It’s definitely not nothing.’ She says crossing her arms. ‘Fine, it’s Y/N.’ He admits. ‘I think I’m in love with her.’ ‘That’s a good thing, right? So why are you so pissed off?’ ‘Because this wasn’t meant to happen. This was just meant to be a summer thing and in a month she’ll be gone and I’ll still be here in this shithole town.’ He kicked the counter beneath him in frustration. ‘Isn’t she moving to the same city as me? And you plan on coming on visiting me, right? So why don’t you just do long distance and visit more often?’ Robin suggests as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. ‘It’s not just the long distant thing, it’s the fact she deserves better than some deadbeat loser who peaked in high school.’ Steve said, dejected. ‘Steve, you’re not some loser who peaked in high school.’ Robin said her expression softening. She opened her mouth to say something else but quickly stopped. ‘She coming in.’ Steve turned around to see you walking into the store with a smile on your face. ‘Hey.’ You greet Steve before heading over to look at the videos. Steve watched you as you browsed through the videos. ‘You ever seen My Bloody Valentine?’ You ask. ‘Huh?’ Steve asks, not registering what you said. ‘My Bloody Valentine?’ You say holding up the VHS box. ‘Oh, umm no, don’t think I have.’ ‘It’s pretty good, well actually it’s terrible, but it’s good in that cheesy slasher way, you know what I’m talking about? Anyway, do you want to come over tomorrow and watch it?’ You ramble placing the video on the counter. ‘Actually, I’m busy tomorrow.’ Steve said. ‘Oh right, well what about another day this week? I’m working during the day but I’m pretty much free every evening.’ You asked. ‘Yeah, I’m pretty much busy all week.’ Steve replied bluntly, not looking up at you. ‘Are you okay?’ You frown as you watch Steve. You could tell there was something clearly up with him but you couldn’t tell what. ‘Nothing. Why does there have to be something wrong if I don’t want to hang out with you?’ Steve raises his voice at you. ‘Nope, you just seem off and I wanted to check if you’re okay.’ You respond. ‘Well, maybe my problem is that you’re too clingy and I don’t want to spend time with you.’ Steve snaps. Your face immediately hardens and you nod, turning around and walking out of the store. ‘Wait Y/N!’ Steve yells after you but you’d already walked out.

‘God, he calls me clingy but he can’t stop calling me.’ You groan as the phone goes off again. You walked over and pick up the receiver before slamming it back down. ‘Well maybe if you answered the phone he stopped calling.’ Eddie suggested as he sat on your bed strumming his guitar. You gave him a look. ‘Fine or not but you can’t avoid him forever.’ ‘Whatever, let’s talk about something important. Have you found a place to live yet?’ You ask, sitting down next to him. ‘No, but I will.’ He replied smiling over at you. ‘Eddie need I remind you that it’s less than a month until we leave and you need somewhere to live unless you want to live in your van.’ ‘That doesn’t sound too bad.’ Eddie shrugs. ‘Eddie you can’t live in your van.’ You scold him. Eddie looks like he’s about to speak but the phone rings again as you let out a groan. ‘If he’s still calling you after a week maybe you should just hear him out.’ Eddie shrugged. ‘Why are you telling me to talk to Steve? I thought you thought he was a dick and me hooking up with him was a terrible idea.’ ‘Well yeah, but I also know that you liked him and you’ve been in a bad mood for the last week so maybe you should get some closure at least.’ ‘Fine, I’ll go by the video store tomorrow.’ You give in.

‘Robin, I’ve really fucked up. She won’t talk to me.’ Steve sighed, running his hand through his hair. ‘I mean you did call her clingy all because you didn’t want to admit you were in love with her.’ Robin shrugged. ‘Yeah, Robin, I know what happened. God, what do I do? Should I go to her house or should I just leave her alone?’ ‘Well you’ve called her about a thousand times and she hasn’t picked up so maybe give her some time.’ ‘Yeah, I should. I guess I’m just worried that the longer I leave it, the worst it’s going to get.’

You had been sitting in your car for what felt like hours just trying to convince yourself to go into Family Video. You were nervous and you didn’t even know what you were going to say. You were worried if you went in you would just start screaming or crying. You flipped down your visor and looked in the mirror, making sure you didn’t completely look like a mess before taking a deep breath and stepping out of your car, knowing it was now or never. You walked into Family Video and saw Steve behind the counter, he looked up at the sound of the bell ringing and immediately stood up straighter. ‘Hi.’ He breathed out, looking at you as though you were a scared animal that would run away at any second, which was exactly how you felt. ‘Hey, do you have time to talk?’ You asked, shoving your hands into your pockets, feeling kind of uncomfortable. ‘Yeah, we can go through to the back. Robin, I’m going on break.’ He yelled over to her as she was restocking shelves. She looked like she was about to protest but then saw you and just nodded, stepping behind the counter. Steve steps out from behind the counter and you follow him into the back room where you lean against a shelf. The two of you stand in silence just looking at each other both trying to think about what to say. The tension between the two of you was almost unbearable and you were just willing Steve to break the silence despite you being the one to initiate the conversation. ‘I am so sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it at all.’ Steve eventually said, looking at you with big eyes like he was genuinely sorry. ‘Why did you say it then?’ You asked. Steve opened his mouth but didn’t say anything. He didn’t know if he should tell the truth. How would you react if you found out he was in love with you when this was meant to be a fling? ‘I was scared.’ Steve eventually settled on. You frowned at his words, having no idea what he meant. ‘Scared of what?’ ‘Scared of how I felt.’ You felt your heart rate increase at his words. Did he mean what you think he means? ‘And how do you feel?’ You say looking at Steve with hope in your eyes. ‘I’m in love with you, and I know this wasn’t meant to be anything serious but I fell for you but you’re leaving soon so it’s not going to work out.’ Steve rambled, not looking at you cause if he did he would see the massive smile on your face. ‘Steve, Steve, stop rambling.’ You say grabbing his hands in your own. ‘Steve, I feel the same way. I love you too.’ ‘But I don’t want to hold you back.’ You can see in Steve’s eyes every single one of his insecurities. His feelings of inadequacy, the worry he was some loser. ‘Steve, you’re not going to hold me back. I want to be with you and we can make this work.’ ‘You’re sure? Because you’re about to college and I don’t want you to feel like you're stuck.’ ‘I’m not going to feel that way.’ You rubbed the back of his hands, reassuring him. ‘Okay, if you’re certain.’ ‘I’m 100% certain.’ You say leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss on his lips.

‘Okay, I think that’s everything.’ You say closing your dorm wardrobe. You had just arrived at your dorms and had spent all day unpacking boxes and sorting out your stuff. ‘I guess we should probably go get some food.’ Steve said wrapping his arms around you from behind. ‘Yeah, I am starving.’ You say leaning back into him, closing your eyes as you do so. ‘Do you want to just go down to the canteen or do you want to go out somewhere?’ He asked, rubbing his hands up and down your sides and pressing a kiss to the side of your head. ‘Let’s just go to the canteen, I’m too tired to go anywhere else, plus I don’t want to change.’ The two of you head to the dorm's food hall, grabbing something to eat and looking around at all the other new students and their families. You were excited to start college but you were also upset about everything you were leaving behind. You put aside your worries and enjoyed your meal with Steve before heading back up to your dorm. ‘I should probably get on the road soon.’ Steve said as you entered your room. ‘You know, my roommate probably won’t be here until tomorrow. Why don’t you just stay?’ You say wrapping your arms around him and looking at him with a pout. ‘Do you really want to get in trouble on your first night?’ Steve laughed looking down at you. ‘Come on, it’s late, I’m sure they’ll understand that it wasn’t safe for you to drive when you're tried.’ You try to convince him. ‘I’m not that tired.’ He frowned down at you. ‘You will be soon.’ You smirked, making him laugh. ‘You’re such a tease.’ He said, placing a kiss on your nose. ‘Is it working?’ You smile at him, nuzzling in close. ‘Yes. Fine, I’ll stay tonight but I need to leave first thing in the morning.’ He rolls his eyes but smiles happy he gets to spend extra time with you before heading back to Hawkins. ‘Great then we better not waste a moment.’ You say pressing a kiss to his lips but he pulls away making you frown. ‘Wait before I forget I got you a gift.’ Steve says, going over to his bag and pulling out a wrapped present. You excitedly take it from him and open it to reveal a framed picture of the two of you at the lake from this summer. Your arms are wrapped around each other and you both have big smiles on your faces. You look at the picture and it makes you smile, remembering the memory. ‘I love it Steve, thank you so much.’ You say placing the photo on your bedside table and sitting down on the bed. ‘Well, I wanted something for you to remember me by.’ He said sitting next to you. ‘Please as if I could ever forget you, besides we’re seeing each other in a month.’ You say resting your head on his shoulder. ‘If I can wait that long, I might just get on the road and then turn back immediately.’ Steve says, grabbing your chin and lifting up your head to give you a kiss. ‘I love you.’ He tells you, pulling away slightly, your foreheads still connected. ‘I love you too, Steve Harrington.’ You say leaning back in for another kiss.

#stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #steve stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #steve x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #joe keery #joe keery x reader

123 notes · View notes