#billy hargrove lore

[meowmeowbilly]

I was just wondering if you know who is older Steve or Billy because most wiki pages say Billy is a month older but is there something official with ages

TLDR; Steve is older, at least by a few months. If you want my reasoning, read the below post!

Steve mentions at the beginning of season 2 that he could stick around for Nancy's senior year, implying that she's a junior and he's graduating in the spring. (He's already writing letters/papers to colleges, I was recommended to start doing this at the beginning of my senior year.)

Billy's canon date of birth is March 29, 1967. This would make him 18 in March of 1985. Where I lived growing up, people generally graduate in May and unless they've been held back or sent forward, they graduate around 18. Steve presumably graduated in spring of 1985; Season 3 is set in the summer of 1985 and Steve's talking about not getting into college. It's unknown as to whether Billy graduated, but Jonathan and Nancy haven't, as they discuss going back to school in the fall after their summer jobs at the newspaper. Fall of 1985 would be the start of the senior year for Jonathan and Nancy. The wiki lists both Jonathan and Nancy as being born in 1967, the same year as Billy.

NOTE: In some school districts in my hometown, if you were born after September, you start school late, so you generally turn 18 at the beginning of your senior semester (the fall semester) and graduate in May. You turn 19 in the months after graduation. Most people I knew who were born in the spring or summer started their senior year (fall semester) after their 17th birthday and turn 18 shortly before or after graduation.

In October of 1984 (Season 2), Billy is 17. Pretty much everything I've seen (wiki, random websites, nothing canon from the duffers as far as I've seen) states that Steve was born in 1966 or 1965, this would make him 18 or 19 in Season 2 of Stranger Things (more likely 18), meaning that he's older than Billy. As stated in the note above, this tracks. He's likely a fall or winter birthday and would therefore turn 18 during or before his first senior semester, although he could have been held back.

Nancy is listed as being 17 in Season 2, and as Steve is a senior in Season 2, she's a junior. Billy is likely a grade below Steve and is likely also a junior in Season 2, although, it's possible he is a senior, like Steve, as his birthday is in the spring. (see the note above)

Additionally, there is subtext that Steve and Eddie knew of each other and were likely in the same grade or one grade apart. Eddie's friends state that he was meant to graduate in 1984. This means Eddie was either 17 or 18 in the fall of 1983 and starting his senior semester, meaning that his birth year is spring of 1966 or winter of 1965. As Steve is starting his senior semester in the fall of 1984, he would've been finishing his junior semester in the spring of 1984. So, he was either held back or was born in winter of 1966, making him 17 in the spring of 1984.

We know he was starting his junior semester in Season 1 (as Nancy's a sophomore and he didn't graduate in the spring of 1984), but he can drive by himself, meaning he likely has a driver's license. You have to be 16 + 90 days in Indiana (as of 2022, it might have been different in 1983) to have your driver's license. Therefore, in November 1983, he's got to be a minimum of 16 years old. This means he was either born in the spring of 1967 and skipped a grade (I love Steve, but in the "canon" view of him, that's unlikely), or he was born in winter of 1966.

However, Jonathan can also drive independently in November of 1983, meaning he's likely 16. We know he's the same grade as Nancy (sophomore), as they talk about having to go back to school in Season 3. According to the wiki, Jonathan was born in 1967, as was Nancy. This makes it likely that Steve was born in 1966 and is 17 in Season 1. Billy was born in 1967, Steve was likely born in the fall/winter of 1966, making Steve at least a few months older.

Hope this helps! Please let me know if you have questions.

#billy #steve #harringrove #billy hargrove #billy hargrove lore #billy lore #steve lore #steve harrington lore #discussion of canon #nancy #jonathan #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #eddie munson #eddie #answer #ask #stranger thing analysis #analysis #billy hargrove analysis

[bigdumbbambieyes]

They were on their way to work in the Beamer and Steve was bright and glowing in the morning sun, his face dotted with beauty spots and moles and Billy couldn’t look away, even as his boyfriend kept bitching.

“—and it’s like, why the fuck does it matter how the tapes are displayed? People are gonna see them! And take them! They’re for rent, not for show, right?”

“Right,” Billy hummed with a little smirk, resting his cheek in his hand, elbow on the car door.

“So I told Keith, ‘hey, man, I think this way might be better’ - and you know what that asshole told me?? ‘That’s stupid’! He said my idea was fucking stupid!” Steve huffed with annoyance, which was Billy’s favourite way to have him (annoyed), because it was funny and cute at the same time.

But, only when Billy was the reason Steve was annoyed. Goddamn Keith wasn’t allowed to annoy his pretty boy so much.

“You want me to ruin his morning, babe?” Billy smirked, already thinking of ways he could.

Steve glanced over at him from where he was looking at the road and gave him a smile, like he was touched that Billy was so willing to ruin his boss’ morning for him, but shook his head ‘no’, “Nah, it’s fine - I’ll just put the display up how I want and he’ll deal with it.”

“Atta boy, Harrington,” Billy grinned, proud and amused.

They pulled up to the shop and Billy zipped up his coveralls, making sure to grab his lunch that Steve packed and coffee thermos before looking over to see Steve already leaning into his space. Billy smiled and leaned over, meeting his pretty boy halfway for a kiss, something soft and casual.

He pecked Steve’s lips a few times more before pulling away to admire Steve’s little half-lidded look, smiling as his boyfriend hummed, “Have a good day. I’ll call when I’m leaving the store.”

“Okay,” Billy smiled, “The boss is letting me work on my car after my shift, so, don’t rush. I’ll be here when you’re done.”

“‘Kay,” Steve hummed, and they shared one last little kiss before Billy was opening the door and getting out. He grabbed the door and bent down to tell Steve with a little grin, “And I’m looking forward to hearing what that dickhead has to say about your display.”

Steve grinned with a little roll of his eyes, “I’ll tell you all about it over dinner. Spaghetti tonight, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Billy smiled, loving that he got to make dinner plans with his boyfriend. The little things really made his day. “Love you, peanut butter.” He hummed.

Steve’s grin grew wider, “Love you, too.”

Billy shut the door and watched the Beamer pull out of the lot and head towards Family Video, smiling to himself with a little huff of amusement before turning and heading into work.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #steve x billy #billy x steve #listen i’m feeling very soft for casual intimacy and domestic living rn #it’s what these boys deserve and i will give it to them #real ones know the lore behind the ‘peanut butter’ nickname 😌 #bambiwrites

[mangywayway]

Due facce della stessa medaglia

(not exactly vent art, but is also more based on recent feelings than lore so, see it as you want)

(I also have been really stuck with personal art these days, so I'm trying to destuck.)

#art #harringrove #werecat steve harrington #harpy billy hargrove #mythology au #mangywayway #not lore accurate at all

[bronoun]

mungrove week day 2 - touch (twt)

trans billy indulging in some delicious self alchemy with his gremlin boyfriend

#there is lore here but I couldn’t write it in time 🥰 #art #billy hargrove #eddie munson #stanger things #mungrove #ratart

[hargrove-mayfields]

It’s Harringrove Week! Billy’s Birthday Bonanza edition! @harringroveweek

prompt: 5 years old

warnings: there are a few brief discussions of a past miscarriage

—

Billy and Steve’s youngest child is turning five years old. They’ve done this seven other times now, the only one of their babies for which they didn’t get to celebrate this particular milestone being Summer, because she was adopted out of foster care at six.

Their wavy haired little girl is wearing a pink poofy dress, a gift to match the overload of pink decorations everywhere. Sadie is obsessed with Piglet from Winnie the Pooh, so of course everyone is required to wear little pink headbands with ears attached, and wear matching outfits. Dorothy is the only one who doesn’t have to adhere to this matching rule, since her feeding tube restricts the outfits she can wear.

To document the day, Steve has a camera, a gift from one of their friends as part of the group moving out of Hawkins clean up, set up on a tripod to the side. He doesn’t want it in the kids' faces making them uncomfortable, but he knows the hurt Billy feels being in his thirties now and having not a shred of evidence to prove his childhood existed. At least, not beyond the stiff, unhappy school photos his father had kept framed as part of the happy family routine he’d insisted on keeping up.

Their family isn’t like that. Both of them have done their damndest to make sure their babies got a better hand in life than they were given back at the start.

Sadies fifth birthday is going to be the best one yet for their littlest girl.

“Blow the candles out sissy!” Steve encourages her, after they did the Happy Birthday song in sign language, because all that singing would be sure to overstimulate her.

After a moment of placing her little hands on the table and hoisting herself up over the buttercream flower-adorned sheet cake, Sadie puffs her little cheeks and blows out all five candles, sitting back down to clap her hands together for herself, a proud smile plastered on her round face.

It inspires her siblings and her dads to cheer for her as well, giving quiet little exclamations and shaking their hands in a chorus of, “Yay Sadie!!”

Coming over to her, Billy asks her a question in sign, “How old are you now, Sadie little lady?”

Her developmental delay had made it hard for Sadie to understand these kinds of things at first. Steve has been spending a lot of extra time with her recently, teaching her numbers and letters and all of her siblings names. She even recently learned how to smile.

So it’s amazing when Sadie holds up her hand, all five fingers up, and announces her age with pure confidence. “Five!!”

Billy even catches a little glint of tears in Steve’s eyes. He doesn’t say anything though, and neither do any of the kids, though he also notices little Tommy, their always curious second youngest, checking on his daddy every now and again.

This party is probably the greatest damn thing in Sadie’s life since the first time she responded to her name when she was three. Standing there, hand in hand, watching their littlest girl rocking in her seat and giggling with her loving siblings, Billy and Steve could both about burst into tears, but, like Billy observed, they’re trying to make sure this stays happy.

Sadie doesn’t know the difference between happy tears and sad tears, and when anybody cries it breaks her little heart.

Steve distracts from the potential moment-ruining tear ducts, calling just loud enough to be heard over the kids chattering, “Cake time!”

***

Billy takes the job of wrangling all the kiddos into bed while Steve takes a bit of a rest after the party. He’s overwhelmed after today, all the sounds and sights, he’d actually tapped out of the celebration with Sadie on his hip before it was even over.

The bigger kids wanted to stay up a little later to burn off the sugar in their bodies, but Sadie was exhausted. He’d changed her into her favorite Piglet pjs, brushed her chin-length hair, and she’d fallen right asleep in his lap before he even got her to her bed.

He decided, after laying her on her pillows and pulling the handmade quilt up to her shoulders, just to sit in the little reading chair by her bed and watch over her. Not that there’s anybody around to notice, but he’s also maybe dozing off a bit every now and again.

The last kids to go down are little Tommy and Bobbi-Jo, since they share a room with Sadie and knew she would be trying to sleep by now. Billy brought them in, holding each of their hands now that they’re too heavy for his chronically out of place joints to carry, and they both climbed right into their beds without making a single peep.

Of course, two sets of stunning blue eyes peered across the room at Steve though, begging for nighttime kisses and hugs. And who was he to say no to his little ones, only 6 and 7 respectively?

After rosy cheeks were sufficiently smooched, and the princess night light turned on, Billy and Steve exchanged a look. Downstairs was still an absolute disaster thanks to the dropped pieces of cake, scraps of torn open wrapping paper, and stray streamers scattered about.

Without a word or a sign between them, the looks in their faces alone are enough to discuss whether or not they’re feeling up to it. They both think it’s best to just tackle it now before the kids can wake up and need something they can’t get to because it looks like a twister ransacked their living room.

They’re both surprised to see their oldest, named after their dear friend, Chrissy, up and out of bed and shoving deflated balloons into a small diaper recycling bag.

After a tiny bit of gentle, but concerned questioning, they discover their eleven year old just ate too much candy and gluten free cake. She couldn’t sleep thanks to the rush and wanted to be helpful.

Instead of forcing her to lay back down in her shared room with her snore-heavy siblings, Billy and Steve agree to let her stay up for another hour to help, but instead of asking her to do chores, she’s assigned to watch the baby monitors set up in the three rooms her siblings share. Especially keeping an eye on Summer and Joyce, since their older girl is prone to nightmares, and the latter has seizures in her sleep.

While her fathers take over the slow clean up of the birthday wreckage, Chrissy gets bored of watching the monitors in silence, and though she doesn’t take her eyes off the screens to keep doing her duty, she turns the volume up a little higher, and starts asking questions to keep herself busy.

“Since baby Sadie is five now, that means she has to start school, right?”

That makes them pause their cleaning. It’s a bit of a touchy subject. Steve has spent many a night crying because his youngest isn’t a baby anymore, and he’s terrified of handing over her care in the day to the school system that treated him so poorly when he struggled with the same things his autistic daughter is surely going to.

His comfort is knowing Billy, Chrissy, and Heather all work at the school in various positions, and can keep watch on the little sweetheart if she needs help. They’d done it for the other eight, and Sadie, although she’s struggled a lot, is no different.

Chrissy even personally offered to enroll Sadie in a new music therapy program, using her experience as the music teacher and the wife of a now successful musician to provide a new outlet. The school almost barred it from happening, figuring there wasn’t much their blind, wheelchair user teacher could do for the newest special needs case, but they changed their minds when Sadie toured the place to make sure it would be a right fit, and ran straight to her second favorite auntie Chrissy for a cuddle and a song. That whole situation was almost enough to make Steve decide on homeschooling his girl, but he isn’t exactly equipped to teach with his dyslexia and all.

But all of that is too much for their little Chrissy to worry or know about, so Steve simply answers, “Yep! In a few months, she’ll be in kindergarten.”

The limitations of their answers doesn’t even inhibit the number of questions she has for a second. She’s as sharp as a tack, and they’ve always encouraged her to ask questions and understand things in her own way, so she asks next, “So what will you do with none of us at home?”

“Well-“ Billy looks at Steve, and sees he’s already given up his task of folding up the plastic tablecloth to return the gaze. The only time they tried to talk about it, Steve had broken down into tears thinking about how much he’ll miss having his babies around, and spiraled into thinking about college and the future and grandkids. Billy takes over this conversation though and signs to her, expression casual so little Chrissy won’t worry, “We haven’t really thought about it too much yet.”

But their stubborn little girl already had an answer in mind, something she must have picked up from a tv show or other kids, “That’s silly. I’m a big girl now, so I know you’ll be glad to have the house all by yourself.”

“Bubba, trust me. Daddy is gonna be a wreck having an empty nest.” Billy answers with finality, about to change the subject for his husband's sake before Steve interrupts-

“I mean, the nest doesn’t have to stay empty though.”

It’s a good thing Chrissy was distracted by the baby monitor, probably watching her sister Carol roll around in her sleep, judging from the way she laughs every few seconds, or else she would have noticed the look Billy exchanged with Steve, equal parts shocked, worried, and intrigued.

They haven’t talked about having more kids since their last pregnancy ended early in tragedy. Some things, the kids just don’t know or need to know.

But they need to talk about what Steve just suggested.

Billy goes over to Chrissy and leans down to her level, both arms on the table to support himself, “Hey sissy?”

“Yeah, papa?” She looks to him and smiles, the little sweetheart always so happy to see her dads and have a connection with another person, the opposite of how Steve was when he was her age and afraid of eye contact. Sometimes Chrissy doesn’t like to speak at all, and will just make intense eye contact in its stead.

That warm swell of pride in his chest only makes him want to feel the joy of welcoming another baby even more.

Billy kisses little Chrissy's forehead and tells her it’s time for her to get back to bed, “You’ve helped enough, sweetheart. I bet you’re getting tired by now. I think it’s time for you to get some sleep yourself.”

“Are you sure? I like helping!” Their girl asks them sweetly, but she yawns right after she does so, proving she needs to get back in her bed.

It’s Steve’s turn to walk over and kiss her cheek, accenting his point with the goodnight kisses the other kids had begged him for, and telling her, “We’re super sure. Sweet dreams, little sheep.”

Hopping down from her chair with far too much energy for a little one who just looked so sleepy, she tells them quickly, in a combination of sign and speech, before she runs off to jump in her bed, “Night’ daddy, goodnight papa!”

Together, Billy and Steve watch on the baby monitors to make sure Chrissy got to her room and into bed, then resume their very important conversation.

“Do you really want more kids?”

Steve feels anxious now, coming up with some random excuse in sign to cover up what he truly wants, in case it’s too much for Billy, “Sadie needs me.”

“But it’s not like you won’t be here. You’ll just be here with a new baby in your arms.” Billy grounds him again. He’s always been so good at that, at being able to calm him and introduce rational concerns to Steve’s rsd brain. And he adds a sprinkle of playful flattery, just to make his husband smile, “New daddy Steve is the handsomest Steve.”

Even after a decade of marriage, it makes Steve blush. Flustered, he signs, a little bit wobbly in his execution because he’s so flattered, “Sweet talker.”

“You married me for my charm.” Well, that certainly helped, but it wasn’t the only reason. Steve still rewards the observation with a kiss instead of more clumsy words.

Billy’s arms wrap around him and, cliché as it sounds, the mess around them all disappears. All the stress, the worries about being the best possible, the fear of messing up; all gone in an instant. They kiss, and it feels like the first all over again.

Steve gets the courage to verbalize what he’s truly been thinking about, “I’d like to have more babies.”

His husband's face is priceless, filtering through adoration and shock before landing on a hint of concern, “Even after..”

The miscarriage, Steve fills in for him in his head. One of the absolute hardest moments of his life, tied only with the times Billy was in the hospital after his accident.

But he’s already decided he doesn’t want to carry children anymore, and offers the solution he’s dreamed about for three years now after losing their last pregnancy, “We can adopt. I always wanted to.”

He doesn’t miss the vibrant, shining look in Billy’s eyes now as his worry is cast away. Steve probably looks just as joyful and excited, though Billy’s focus was on his lips to make sure he could tell what was being said.

Then Billy asks, sounding almost breathless and whimsical, awestruck by Steve’s suggestion to expand their family again, “When?”

Those contagious emotions make it clear that this is what Billy wants too, and Steve swears his heart could just burst from happiness. He can’t wait until his longtime dream becomes reality again, to have a little baby in his arms again. To soften the intensity though, he gives Billy a more flexible answer, that lets him know he’s a part of this dream as well, “Whenever you're ready.”

****

It takes ten more months to find the right fit, the child who they can provide to the fullest for, who will not be afraid of two dads, and who will be okay with joining a family of eleven.

Only make it thirteen now, because in their arms are two brand new baby girls. Aurora, the bigger twin, is a little girl of jet black hair with a striking patch of white hair just in the center of her forehead. Waardenburg's it’s called, and it might cause her to grow up deaf just like her daddy. Her sister Briar Rose was born with a related condition that makes her skin and hair all as white as snow, and causes weakness with her heart and lungs. Also like her sister, she’s already presenting deafness.

The agency told them they were getting in over their heads by taking these girls home, but Billy and Steve knew the second they saw those fragile babies curled up in one shared crib, they would be their babies. Nine other kids all with varying states of health had prepared them for this challenge, and like little Chrissy said way back when, with the rest of the kids in school, they’ll have plenty of time with their newest additions, Steve especially while he stays home with them in the day.

It’s not even Billy’s birthday for another few days, but seeing all eleven of his babies gathered here around the living room in an assortment chairs and couches, cradles and a futon, and his gorgeous husband right by his side with a sleeping Aurora and Briar Rose cuddled up to his chest, that’s the best gift anyone could possibly ask for.

#harringroveweek #tw miscarriage #harringrove #billy x steve #billy hargrove #parents! harringrove #disabled billy hargrove #disabled steve harrington #trans steve harrington #my writing #ej writer #this au was created with max over at @intothedysphoria #i know the lore so idk if this makes sense. if anyone has a question feel free to message me in the notes or my inbox! #thanks for reading all!

[hardestgrove]

A prompt request in case it inspires you. Loving your Btvs/ST stuff and now I can't stop thinking. Mungrove with Vampire Slayer Billy (or The Slayer Billy) and vampire Eddie

HERE WE GOOOOOOOOOOOOOO [HEAVY METAL SCREAM] AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

rating: G/PG warnings: none really lotta swearing tho words: 2,404 pairing: Billy Hargrove x Eddie Munson

no Ao3 link atm bc i'm lazy and this is just SO bespoke. i genuinely don't know what i wanna do with all the stranger things/buffy the vampire slayer crossover stuff in my head djksdfgdfs. i'll make a post for the ao3 link if i ever make one.

NOTE: this is a TRANSGIRL!BILLY EXPERIENCE! slayer lore is a "girls only" thing which, when you expand that past late 90s mainstream acceptable progressivism i've always interrupted as people who have a female spirit/vibe/essence/whatever the fuck. basically not bio-femaleness but idk like gender vibes. (i'll also say i'm nonbinary myself and the blood i sweat over this gordian knot is ridiculous and this is what i have thus far so we're running with it)

it's also my first time writing a transwoman character so i hope i did right by the girlies. lemme know if anything should be edited!

Billie should’ve slayed Eddie years ago. He was basically the one smudge on her otherwise perfect slayer record. She couldn’t find it in her to do it thought no matter how much she tried. Sure they’d gone at each other a few times, a murder attempt here or there from either side but honestly none of it was all that serious. Their fights always seemed to fall apart though by the end so at this point they just didn’t bother with it really.

If she was being honest there was more to it then just that. For a dead guy Eddie was full of life, bright and charming and just so excited about things. Billie spend so much of her life hunting things down, being hunted, beating the shit out of things, getting the shit kicked out of her, killing things and trying not to get killed back herself. It was dark and lonely most of the time, even if she’d never trade it back for her old life it didn’t mean she didn’t wish she had more in her life than death. And while she’d never admit it to a soul, Eddie made her feel alive.

The majority of vampires seemed stuck in time but while Eddie’s style hadn’t changed much since the 70s, he was different. He was handsome with big brow doe eyes, lean bodied with a wavy brown shag he hadn’t changed in like, 20 years, but still looked really good on him. But he was dynamic in a way the others weren’t. His look wasn’t stagnation, it was preference. Billie had always liked how his hands where bigger than hers, even if it was just by a little. He’d somehow talked her into letting him give her some guitar lessons (yes dumb idea vampire near neck, she knew this. We’ve already established the Eddie weak spot here though) and she couldn’t stop coming back to how long and pretty his hands were, how they covered hers nicely when he helped her work out all the strings and movements.

Eddie had a band — of course — and it was a actually pretty good. It was kind of a shame Eddie’d been turned, he was really talented, if he’d lived he could’ve really gotten famous. Now that he was a vampire though he was pretty much regulated to the small stages only, though he was actually pretty big on the supernatural music scene. Much to her chagrin Billie was starting to feel like a groupie. She tried to catch as many of his shows as she could for years now. And yes, okay — she was a little starstruck. Eddie had seen all her favorite bands in concert when they were making some of her favorite albums, he’d jammed with Metallica when they were hot off Kill ‘Em All. They liked all the same music and Billie lived for music. Eddie was, frankly, kind of a real rockstar in the demon world, like their best kept secret from the humans when it came to rock. Watching Eddie play was electrifying. He was gorgeous and powerful on stage, totally in his element. She didn’t get why he was still hanging out on the Hellmouth, LA was only two hours away, he’d do so much better there.

They were doing a cover of “Am I Evil” by Diamond Head and Eddie was practically crooning it at her where she sat at the bar. She blushed in spite of herself. He was such a little shit, always pulling shit like this with her. She stayed in her seat and she didn’t look away however, that’d be admitting he’d won which was so never going to happen. She stayed their whole set and left when they packed up to go do her patrols. Just like always. And just like always somehow Eddie found her no matter where she was.

She was in Restfield Cemetery doing a clean up of any newly risen vampires when he sauntered out from behind a mausoleum his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket grinning his stupid adorable grin.

“Hey baby. How’s the day in the office so far?”

Billie rolled her eyes. “Slow and boring. It’s been nothing but fledges so far and not even a lot of them.”

“Well hey, I’m here now. Can’t do much about the lack of villainous lambs to slaughter but I can fix the boredom part.”

Billie rolled her eyes. “Right so I can be annoyed and not get anything done all at the same time.”

“Oh baby, don’t be like that.” He cooed, coming to place his hands on Billie’s hips. She was only a little taller than Eddie in her heels. “C’mon. What can I do to turn my best girl’s frown upside down huh?”

Billie blushed again and looked down, the hand not holding her stake fiddling with his beat up leather jacket. Her heart always skipped a beat when he called her things like “baby” and “best girl” and they both knew it.

“Nothing. I just wanna finish my stupid fucking patrol report back that there’s nothing going on in this shithole town and go bed.”

“Nah not buying it. I think I know what’ll make my babygirl smile again.” His breath was cool against her cheek as he nuzzled her. “How about a private concert huh? We finish up staking my distant relatives or whatever, head back to your place and I play some of your faves. I’ll take requests and everything.”

Fuck, he really had her now. Eddie was always buttering her up but he was really laying it on thick to night. He probably wanted something then and knowing her, she’d probably end up giving it to him if it wasn’t totally insane.

She nodded and Eddie grinned even wider against her cheek before kissing the corner of her mouth sweetly.

“There’s my girl, so sweet for me. Now lemme see how ya tear em apart huh?”

Patrolling with Eddie was always more fun than patrolling alone. They flowed well together in a fight and when there was nothing to do he was a great conversation partner. They always walked together so close their arms would brush as they went. Some nights Eddie would catch her hand and hold it, winking at her every time he did. She let him, because she was a weak bitch who lost her shit over holding hands with her vampire crush who she should be staking. With Eddie there the boring drag of patrol just flew by and they were heading back to her’s for the night in no time.

They still called it her place but Eddie had an invite and somehow over the few years they’d been getting closer all of his things had ended up in her apartment. They slept in the same fucking bed now for fucks sake. Somehow Eddie had weaved himself into her life so completely she couldn’t pull the edges apart anymore. She knew the Council wouldn’t approve if she was still living under their thumb, Hopper barely tolerated it as it was. Sure, she was the Slayer but she was a 20 year old girl too. A girl who wanted a life, and to love and be loved. She was still scared to admit it out loud, afraid if she did he’d vanish like everything else that’d been good her life, but she loved Eddie. She loved him so much. And the things he did and said— it was getting harder to convince herself that he didn’t feel the same. Not when he proved it every day.

So what if he was a vampire. Was it so wrong for her to want this? Was there ever going to be a normal guy who could even understand, let alone keep up, with her? Why should she hold out on the off chance that guy did exist somewhere in the world when she had this loving man right here, now?

Ever the gentleman Eddie opened the door for her, his hand resting on her lower back as he ushered her inside. They both went to the kitchen where Billie pulled out leftovers for her and a blood bag for Eddie while he got a mug out for microwaving his blood. They waited around together for their food to be warmed up, Eddie wrapping her in his arms and swaying them as he hummed. Dinner was always a pretty lazy affair and they scarfed their food down at the counter before unceremoniously dumping their dishes in the sink to be tomorrow’s problem. Finally they both got ready for bed, Billie getting out of her very cute halter and into a soft pink pajama set and Eddie stripped down to his boxers. He laid his warlock down next to her on the bed but before he set it up for their private concert he maneuvered her to the edge of the bed and knelt between her legs.

His hands were cool on her thighs has he rubbed little circles with his thumbs into her skin.

“Baby there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you for a while now.”

Fear gripped her immediately, the self doubt she still couldn’t shake rearing its ugly head. Did he want to break up? Did he want something she couldn’t give? To do something she couldn’t do? Had this all been a lie to get her so blind and stupid she’d help him do something awful?

Eddie kept rubbing in those little circles, his eyes were warm and gentle. Full of love. She took the leap and went with trusting him.

She licked her lips, her voice only cracked a little. “Yeah Eds?”

“Move to LA with me.”

She stared at him stunned for a long moment, totally thrown for a loop. Never in her life would she have thought this is what he’d want to talk about. Slowly she collected herself.

“But, Eddie I can’t leave the Hellmouth. It’s my job.”

“There’s the new girl here now and she’s been doing great. You’re not chained here and it’s LA, we’re only 2 hours away. If they need us we can be there in no time.”

Jane was doing well, especially with the help of her little gaggle of loser friends and Hopper keeping an eye on her. But she was only 15, she was a kid. How could Billie leave this whole place to a kid? A voice in her head pointed out she’d been about that age when she’d become the Slayer and she’d been basically totally solo through most of her tenure here. Jane had a group of friends to help and a Watcher who took good care of her. She was infinitely better off than Billie had been at that age.

Still she couldn’t just leave.

“I can’t just leave it all on her, it’s my sacred duty or whatever to—“

“Baby,” He broke in, his voice and expression sterner than she’d ever seen. “You’ve already died once. “

Automatically her hand came to the scar on her chest and she rubbed it absently. They only had Jane because Billie had died. There was only ever one Slayer, as like, a semi-reincarnated chosen one thing. One died and the next was called. But Billie had been revived in the hospital so now there were two.

Eddie continued. “I’m not saying you stop slaying. I don’t think you can ever really stop being a Slayer just like I can’t stop being a vampire. But I don’t wanna see an encore of that shit. Ever. Once was enough. I’m not gonna let you get stuck living a small life in a small town because of some ancient prophecy shit anymore just so that prophecy shit can snuff you out before you got a chance to live. You deserve more. Sunnydale was only ever supposed to be a pitstop for the band but I convinced the guys to stay because I loved you the moment I saw you and I wasn’t leaving here without you. The guys are starting to really chafe now, the music scene here is only half decent cause it’s a Hellmouth and 2 hours down to LA for club gigs is getting to be a pain in the ass. They wanna move to where the action is and I think it’s time for all of us— you included— to make the leap. I held off on talking about this until we could make sure that Jane’ll be alright so you could leave with a clean conscience and she’s gonna be as fine as any Slayer can be. Baby, I love you. It’s okay to move on with your life. You’re a grown woman and you deserve to be somewhere with more opportunities for your future. Steve’s already down there and you always talk about how you miss him. Wouldn’t you rather be living closer to your best friend then stuck hanging around with teeny boppers?”

Billie’s eyes were hot with unspent tears. He was right. She missed Steve. He’d been her only friend since she’d blown into Sunnydale and he’d moved down to LA to get work and try to get into culinary school after graduation and his parents losing everything because of tax evasion. She loved Eddie but she still felt lonely without her best friend. And she did want to do more with her life, even if it was just party and be somewhere that couldn’t be easily walked in a few hours again. She missed living in a real city like San Diego. She hated the idea she’d been holding Eddie back but she also couldn’t stop crying because she was so happy he’d stayed. No one ever stayed. But Eddie’d taken one look at her and dropped everything just so he could be with her. God he was too good for her.

Still crying she nodded, trying to smile. God she was glad he’d waited until she’d taken her makeup off.

“Okay Eddie. You’re right, let’s move.”

Eddie beamed and kissed her, wrapping an arm around her waist and helping her to dry her tears with the other.

“Love you baby.”

For once, she felt brave. “ I love you too Eddie.”

If it was possible he beamed even harder and kissed her again soundly before setting up with the warlock bedside her on the bed.

“Okay! We’re celebrating! Any requests from my lady love?”

#writing.doc #eddie munson #billy hargrove #mugrove #vampire eddie munson #trans girl billy #the hellssover #there's so many buffy lore drops in here that i REFUSE to explain #even the HALTER is a buffy lore reference lol #me: [aggressively hurls the st fans following my st blog into the deep end of buffy nonsense w/ no glossary]

[queer-coded-camaro-driver]

Vecna and the Raven Queen (El)

So if you’re a D&D nerd like me, you know that Vecna doesn’t exist in a vacuum. He has a lot of enemies within the Forgotten Realms, and the worst of those is the Raven Queen. 

According to the Forgotten Realms Wiki: “One of the Raven Queen's divine realms in the Shadowfell was a castle known as the Fortress of Memories. It was a place of overwhelming sorrow, overflowing with memories taken from mortals and fragments of dead deities... and apparitions of creatures and places associated with strongly emotional stories.“

A fortress of memories focused on tragedy and emotion? Sounds kinda like Hawkins Lab.

Additionally, Vecna and the Queen are at constant odds because she collects memories and he hoards lies. If someone tells a lie that affects more than 100 people, Vecna instantaneously knows it already. So, Lies vs. Memories.

We see El weaponize Billy’s memories as a last ditch effort to free him from Vecna, replacing her enemy’s falsehoods (that Billy is weak and has no autonomy) with high emotion. Much like the Byers and Mike do with Will in S2.

El doesn’t just reach for good memories, either. She uses the baseball scene, Max’s introduction to the family, the plate-throwing scene... El is the Raven Queen, who’s adept at accessing her friends’ most tragic experiences in order to fight against their common enemy. 

Even her own tragic experiences, such as the loss of Mama, exacerbate her powers. Mike reminding her of the day they met, even though it was a terrifying experience for his best friend (and thus a tragedy), makes her stronger. 

And while I don’t think that it was intentional on the Duffers’ part, the accidental parallel they drew between D&D lore and Stranger Things lore is kinda cool in a twisted, badly written way.

#dungeons and dragons #raven queen #vecna #vecna vs the raven queen #feel free to add more examples #eleven #el #billy hargrove #will byers #mike wheeler #dungeons and dragons lore #vecna lore #i don't think it was purposeful but it's cool #stranger things metatext #stranger things #literary analysis

[powderblueblood]

YES, NURSE RATCHED - a hellfire & ice retelling of chapter eight's most pivotal moment, from eddie's pov

a special treat for my love @deadlynightshade-and-hyacinth eddie munson x f!reader, reader is nicknamed lacy, reader's last name is also mentioned, this is lore-filled and handsy so if that's not your thing keep it truckin, minors dni i do not like you go away warning for strong language, smut inthe form of public fingeringgggg, drug usage, extremely bad parenting (al munson klaxon), evoking the feeling of a comedown, billy hargrove gets his shit rocked, excuse all typos it's redacted o'clock and i'm a little buzzed word count: 2.6k

The first thing you should know about the following occurrences is that they are preluded by a whole lot of next thing Eddie knows. Things snapping his attention to the left, to the right, knocking him over the head, rearing up on him with little to no warning.

Number one? His dad showing up at Reefer Rick’s, eyes bloodshot and sleep deprived and frantic, putting on a pantomime of being so psyched to see his boy! Rick snapping to attention and falling into his role of affable associate of Munson Senior immediately, despite the apology he’d tried to press against Eddie right when Al crunched the gravel of his driveway. What followed was a bender that Eddie couldn’t help but give into. Al has that effect on people, even him, even Eddie in his angry, angsty resoluteness that he should know better. 

You try knowing better when you're all bewitched, bothered and bewildered and shit.

Cue cut lines and records blaring until daylight broke over Lover's Lake– then Eddie, rising at noon but barely landed from his previous (ill-advised and bad-parentally-supervised) high, got it in his head that he ought to show up for school. At least for a little bit. 

Because they’d tossed your last name around a little last night, Al and Rick. Doevski this, Doevski that, in weird, vague terms that Eddie didn’t all the way understand. And the more weed he smoked and the more Jim Beam that got passed around, the less he remembered.

Which, dumb, right?

You’d tell him that was dumb.

You’d tell him he should have stayed sharp, listened up, gathered information.

He passed out on Rick’s sagging couch, mind searing with nothing but thoughts of you nagging him for intel.

Eddie woke up cotton-mouthed with your name on his lips. 

He needed to see you.

To catch one of your avoidant, barely-there glances as you flit through the hallway or maybe even spy you smoking a cigarette on the outdoor bleachers, reading in silence with Ronnie or Wheeler.

He’d think of what to say to you in the moment; probably spurned on by the sneer you’d give him– which he’d totally have earned, for having the nerve to ignore you for so long. 

Forgive me, he'd say, hands held aloft in Christlike composure, I just couldn't look you in the eye knowing you were getting willingly boinked by some Ivy League sweater monkey.

And then you'd have to admit your little bullshit college boyfriend wasn't Ivy League, and he'd prod you with that for a while, and things would eventually ebb back to whatever shade of normal you two were pretending to be. So? Okay!

But.

Next thing Eddie knows, he’s peeling into the parking lot and the first thing that he sees, bada bing, is you. All however many feet of you, steel true and planted on the hood of Billy Hargrove’s fucking Camaro, wielding a baseball bat like a sword.  

Eddie’s heart stops for the full entirety of a what fresh hell is this filter-focused second before he skids the van to a halt and launches himself from it. 

He advances this helluva scene just in time to hear you holler out, right in front of God and everyone,

“One thing you can say for Eddie Munson, is at least the motherfucker can get hard!” 

Eddie’s tread stutters and he wonders if this is what people mean when they use the expression taken out at the knees. Can he get a fucking encore, please? 

But then there’s the issue of the rabies-ridden Hargrove, the kid who’s snorted so much of Eddie’s dubiously cut supply that it’s no wonder that word has gotten around that he can’t keep his johnson rigid. There’s a thread dangling somewhere that makes Eddie wonder how familiar you are with that concept but. Alas. Digression. 

Hargrove calls you a cunt, and Eddie’s vision is replaced with a swathe of red. 

How ‘bout you try playing it cool, hearing someone talk to your girl like that, after a night of fun family drug-taking? 

Wait. His what? Hold on--

Next thing Eddie knows, he’s side-swiping Hargrove like a dirty bumper car, yak yaks something kind of funny (he hopes) and does not turn to look at you standing backlit like a holy fucking statue. Because he knows you’ll look beautiful up there, white hot with rage, holding a weapon poised for minor automotive destruction. He can’t handle beauty, not right now. Because of that thing from before with his knees. 

“...now her snooty ass is spreading it for half of Hawkins! Desperate! Stringin’ you along like the dumb piece of shortbus shit you a–”

It’s impossible to say whose hair trigger that tugged first, yours or Eddie’s. That’s like chicken vs egg. That’s like Han vs Greedo. That’s like, irrelevant. 

That baseball bat clatters to the pavement, a hearty overture to Eddie’s surge of empowerment, of rage, of insisting that she isn’t, I’m not, she isn’t, I’m not, nobody talks about her like that–

Next thing Eddie knows, he’s sitting beside you. Outside the principal’s office. Hand split open and aching, nose backed up and a little bleeding, coming down like the fucking Hindenberg. Reckoning with the fact that he wouldn’t need to be a little morning-after zipped on coke to throw a punch for you, if it came down to it. If it came down to it, he would have tried caving in Billy Hargrove’s other eye socket. He would have made him look like the Elephant Man if you needed him to. 

He liked that Eraserhead movie you made him watch. 

“He needs an ice pack…”

The soft mumble from you makes Eddie take this breath that makes his chest feel like it might concave. You, you. Reckless, unbuttoned, unlaced, off-kilter you, that still had time to snap at him after he’d tried to freeze you out, that still had eyes that asked him did it hurt? 

Eddie eavesdrops on as much of your grilling with Higgins and the hot guidance counsellor as his damaged eardrums will allow. Temporary insanity. Disgusting prank. He wonders what that’s about… and again, didn’t even think to question what brought you onto the hood of Hargrove’s car. He just saw you. He just acted.

He just keeps doing that. 

And then he hears. College. Application deadlines are within touching distance. 

“I can turn this around.”

Of course. Eddie hadn’t even thought about that, because he’s him. And it was something you were probably worrying yourself sick over, because you’re you– you wanted out of here. To get up, go, be someone great.

“New York, ideally,” you’d said to him once, tightrope walking across the broken bleachers outside; you’d been waiting around for him to give you a ride home, but he had a deal to make first. You were weirdly patient, weirdly pensive that day. “Someplace I can go and burrow in and absorb everything and grow out of a crack in the sidewalk, new.” 

Eddie’d held your hand, helping you step over a gap in the bench, “Not taking Manhattan by storm? Hurricane Lacy?” 

You–and he remembered this–had held onto his hand for a few more minutes, a cigarette dwindling in the other. Your fingers were cold; they clutched at his a little tighter when you spoke again. 

“No. Not Manhattan, not midtown, not big business. I have precipitated a change in my weathervane.”

“What does that mean?”

“Means that someone taught me the difference between being important and being significant.” 

Back in the room. Eddie drawls out some stupid crack to Higgins, who he’s still supplying with enough benzos to take out Jonestown a second time, which is the only reason he hasn’t been booted out of Hawkins High for absolute and final good. And then you’re alone again, the two of you. Together. 

“Wanna get out of here?”

Next thing Eddie knows, he’s spending the last of his energy like it’s burning a hole in his pocket, horsing around on the nurse’s saddle stool while you rifle through her office. You are all edgy and commanding because you have no idea how to say sorry you got wailed on by Hargrove for me.

Good. He likes you better like this, at least for right now. Likes to watch you attempt to pirouette on the razor’s edge of your relationship to one another, mostly because your attempt is more graceful and easier to watch than his is. And he likes to watch you. Watch you do anything, really. 

Watch you snap at him to get on the bed. Fuck. 

Watch you tear and dab at his busted knuckles. Fuckfuck. 

Watch you talk about Cat People and press his hand to his chest and tell him he’s injured and wrong and watch you watch searing, singing alcohol on his split lip dry up. Eddie watches your eyes brighten and darken with curious affection, like those twinkle lights that fade in and out, steady as breathing. His breathing is anything but steady. His knees have come apart, letting you stand between them.

You dab and he lets this broken sound loose from him, because the proximity of your body to his feels like a fresh fucking spring breeze and god, god, the way you’re touching him with such gentle, measured movements, like you’ve choreographed every one–

You’re so exact. You’re so organized. He wants to unexact you.

Eddie uses his good hand, not that either of them are really any good, and presses as much of you into him as he can. The flush of your front, the flush of your mouth, he even has to stop those shorn denim-sheathed legs of his from wrapping around your hips. Eddie’s grip, it travels, hitching tweed up the curve of your ass. 

You don’t push him away like he figured you might, you don’t indignantly demand what is going on?! You don’t. You weave your hand up the line of his thigh, to the hard edge of his crotch where he is straining, a rigidity that’s been building since you went all Nurse Ratched on him. 

A rigidity that’s hard to keep down around you, badum-tsssss. 

Fuck.

Eddie almost knocks the word loose with a low groan that’s pressed into the supple flesh of your cheek, your lovely blushing fucking cheek, a cheek he goes to kiss or bite or something but misses by a hair because you’re straining your neck back. To look at him. Not soberly, he hopes. 

Someone down there is wishing him death by dick.

Not the wettest, wildest, filthiest dreams that he’s had about you (and categorically, there have been many) could have prepared Eddie Munson from the earth-shattering consequences of this tiny gesture. Your tongue, perfect and pink, darts to his lip, stinging and sore and comes away with the tiniest drop of ruby-red blood sitting on its tip. 

And you suck his bottom lip between yours, eyes fluttering closed.

Eddie’s cock jumps as his heart does, not a second out of time, as you clamber up, into his lap– so completely un-Lacylike, so totally… unexact. How, in all the vastness of Heaven and earth and Middle Earth and Hell and the Bookstore and the closet and his bedroom and the van could he be so fucking stupid?

“Just friends, right?” Eddie is deaf to how pained it comes out sounding.

His good hand travels. He finds your thighs, the softness there giving way to easy indents for his fingers and he knows, he knows that this is where his hands should be–unless, higher could be good? Higher, high up past those offending, incriminating lace top stockings that drilled through Eddie’s mind like an ice pick, giving him whatever the opposite of a lobotomy is. Haunting him with a fervour, begging him to snap them, but there’s no fucking time for that, god it hurts but there’s no fucking time for that because you. Two. Are. In. The fucking. Nurse’s. Office. 

But the world has ceased turning. 

Eddie’s mouth opens in a silent attempt at a moan as his fingers push past to the beating, radiating core of you that the throbbing, radiating core of him longs for. 

You’re so wet, and soft and lush and it rings through is head like a fucking hallelujah, you’re wet, you’re wet for him.

More than anything, he needs your encouragement–he needs to know that you want him to keep going. That you want him, that you want him, that–

You nod, frantic and undone, and Eddie kisses you for it just before he realizes he has no idea what he’s doing. But nothing in his body tells him to zoom out–in fact, the only thing he wants is more in. More you, more of you wrapped around him. He moves his hands with a clumsiness usually uncharacteristic of him, fucking guitar guy, fucking painting miniatures and shit guy. But it works, according to you and the way you keen against him with your beautiful, spit-shining lips parted and pulling against his. 

These little noises, chirps and swallowed moans of yours– it’s like music. He wants to choke on them.

Eddie’s voice kind of cracks open again, letting a little air and a touch of begging out. He strains, pained, cock aching against the hitch of denim. “Does he do this? Does anyone do this for you, Lacy?”

Because you’re lonely, and Eddie knows that, with his fingers stroking you deep. You’re lonely, or would be, were it not for him. And it feels like now, in the heady swirl of these few moments that are stretched into an infinity, that he’s using it against you, but he’s not. He should be the one doing this for you, he should be the one making you feel this way, making you tremble even as he clumsily thumbs at your clit, because he thinks knows you and he thinks you want it unmeasured and unshackled and washing over you in a wave of sheer blind devotion and that’s why his tongue is all over your neck. 

That’s why his knuckles are split. 

That’s why there’s no malice in Eddie’s voice when he croaks, “Just friends? Lacy?” as you rock and spasm, hands clutching him around the shoulder and whimpers barely deadened against his lips. He can feel the texture of your pinched brow against his own. 

He wants to clutch you as close as he possibly can, but he’s got one good arm and it’s between your legs.

Between your legs. Jesus fucking Christ. 

Sobriety hits like a tidal wave as your breath returns to its normal rhythm; Eddie’s doesn’t quite have the same rebound. He’s still huffing a little, out of exertion or out of nerves, as he slips his hand out from under you, brushing what was off on his jeans. A small patch of his own bodily fluid collected there too, making sure he’s wearing the both of you like Hester Prynne’s scarlet letter as he walks around for the rest of the day. 

Eddie, throat starting to tighten up, pulls you in for one kiss, to give you one last taste of where he’d been split open for you. Melodrama dances around it; shades of we shouldn’t have, but we did, but we can’t, but now I have to fucking live with the fact I cracked open this Pandora’s box and I’m sorry. 

Or something to that effect. 

And you see right through him, because you always do. Hair in a muss, lips flushed, adjusting your skirt, re-exacting yourself, you clean up any evidence that this had ever happened. At least, on a surface level. 

Eddie dares to look at you once more, and you dare to look back at him. And thank god he’s sitting down, because that look shoots him right through the fucking aorta. You, wide-eyed and small-looking, pupils darting and unsure, are asking him why. Pleading with him, why. Why do this. Why now. Why at all, ever, why did you have to. Even though you know. 

“I–”

“No, I know. I know. I certainly know.”

Because you’re Lacy. You know everything. 

Eddie does think about going after you for a second, after your curt nod and dash through the door but he knows that it’s a zero-sum game. He has nothing good to say. It’s not even you that’s rendered him speechless– funny thing, you usually do the opposite. You always give him something to say. He just has nothing good to say. Nothing worthy of you. 

So he sits there, on the examination table, waiting for the mythical Nurse Lydia to tend to his wounds. 

First he’ll will himself soft, then he’ll will himself sane. 

Famous last words.

#published by powder #e. munson by powder #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson fic #blurbs #edlacy #hai brainrot #this actually helped me crack a little thing i've been stuck on in chap 9 so thank you for that!!! #Spotify #l. doevski by powder

[thisfanisgonesorry]

handcuffed - jim hopper

you REALLY dont wanna get arrested right now.

cw/tags: DUBCON. DUBCON FOR DAYS. uhh, very bdsm-y, obvious power dynamics, degradation kink, handcuffs, obviously. timeline debatable, age difference but thats what makes it hot!, he spits in y/ns mouth. cums in her panties if thats a kink? what would i call that? y/n is canonically a bit of a slut but thats okay! mutual pining if u squint.. maybe enough lore for multiple parts. hopper is lowkey a prick whoop whoop.

havent posted in a while but i wrote this (shitty) gem from a few weeks ago.

<3

Surely, this would be a good day. Surely.

Well, that is what I was thinking before I was sprinting down the road, trying my best to avoid the cops. Needless to say, now I’m restrained by an all-too-familiar chief of police and he’s hauling ass to his cop car, which would now be 50 or so feet from where I’m currently standing.

I’m trying to break free so I can sprint in another direction and pray to god it works. Maybe into the woods, break line of sight. We’re by the backroads, so there’s not a lot of people, though maybe losing face in a crowd would be what I need.

I seemed to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time. I was near Billy’s shithole of a house, just when the cops showed up, and of course, they had to assume I was to blame. Now, at a worse place at a worse time, I’m harshly pressed into the hood of Jim’s car, and he’s struggling to keep my arms in place to put them into a pair of handcuffs. His body is tightly holding me into place, but god damn, I am not getting arrested right now.

“Let me go, Hopper!” I shout, trying to pull my arms out of his grip so I can use them to push him off. I try to move any of my limbs in any direction as an attempt to get him off me.

“Stop struggling.” He says, as he meets my face, feeling the stubble of his moustache brush my ear. I freeze for a moment; before continuing anyway.

“I wasn’t even at that stupid Hargrove’s house! You already arrested all of the assholes there, why are you harassing me!”

He lets out a few grunt, and then I hear a click and feel cold metal around my wrists, so I struggle more as he tries to stand us both up, still pressed against him as he tries to not let me escape him.

“Get the fuck off me, Jim.”

“Watch it.” He breathes out, “You’re about to get us both into somethin’ you don’t wanna get into.”

“I don’t wanna get arrested by some pig! Not over some shit I didn’t do!”

He finally brought some distance between us as he turned me around, looking at me face to face, though still trying to keep me in place with a hand firmly on my shoulder. I was trying to analyse the situation, there was one, semi-large, semi-hard, glaring problem.

Maybe all that struggling was not the wisest idea I could’ve had.

“Are you hard right now?” I said, with a bitter taste on my tongue, deciding to get rid of that taste by spitting right in his face.

“I told you to stop struggling.” He said through gritted teeth as he wiped the saliva with the back of his hand. “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.” He gestured towards the backseat.

“What? This, or you?”

“Get in the fucking car, Y/n.”

“I didn’t do anything. I’m telling the truth this time, promise!” He began to shove me, before I tried to intervene once again, desperation levels rising to a shameful amount. “Hey! Hey! Maybe we can work something out!”

“I’m taking you in and if you don’t stop talking, I’ll find some way to shut you up.” He seemed unphased despite the half-mast tent in his pants. He glared at me, speaking sternly. “And don’t fucking spit at me again.”

“I’m not friends with Billy, I’m sober as a judge here, Hop!” I furrowed my eyebrows, “Plus, it’s not like you can walk into the station with a boner, can you? Or are you willing to bet it’ll go away by then?”

“You’re right. I can’t. I know what you’re implying, I also can’t..” He hesitated for a moment. “..Act on it with someone under my custody.”

He could sense the sardonic attitude behind my voice. “Why not?”

“Don’t play that game with me.” He said, pushing me again towards the backseat, though I crashed into the side-mirror of his car, letting out a moan of pain which made him, and his buddy, a bit more rash.

“Help me, help you?” I said with a fake grin, trying to push his buttons, either as a tease or a genuine way to get into his pants. “C’mon, what d’ya got to lose?”

“My job.”

“I won’t tell no one. C’mon, I’ll help you out and you can think about letting innocent ol’ me go, how’s that?”

Is it bad that through the numerous times Chief Hopper has thrown me in jail, I’ve always thought, ‘might as well go out with a bang, right?’, he’d been on my ass for years, either for underage drinking or hanging around pot, he’d find some way to get me in handcuffs. I was old enough to do both of those now, and for once, I was completely innocent.

“If you’re so innocent, why’d you run?”

“Look, I was just at the wrong place, wrong time. I saw sirens comin’ at me, what d’ya think I’m gonna do?” I could feel the tension; sexual or not, it was thick in the air. He was clearly sexually frustrated, and look at him, of course he would be. Sure, he was hot, but it’s not like the chief of police gets many weekends.

“I’ve heard you use that excuse before.”

“I’m telling the truth here! What have I got to lose? You’re hard and I’d fuck you to get out this time. I’m not sitting in a drunk tank with Billy!”

“Why’d you run?”

“Fine! I got pot on me! But it’s not from Billy!”

“Where?” He said sternly, trying to pull it off me. I didn’t want to admit it was in my bra, so I tried to avoid eye contact. “Where.” He repeated, louder.

“It’s in my bra..” I said, still avoiding eye contact. He looked at the buttons to my white and green shirt, deciding if he should or not. I rolled my eyes at him, almost to urge him to just hurry up and get on with it.

He quickly began unbuttoning the shirt, it was probably not his best choice, but once it was unbuttoned, he tugged it out of my jeans and tried to push it as best he could off my torso. He took in the view for a moment, but only a moment.

“Where?”

“Left side.” He raised his large hands to put his hand on my right; “MY left.”

Granted, I hadn’t exactly prepared for this moment, so my bra was an off-skin tone, and wasn’t exactly ‘sexy’. He put his hand in the cup of my bra, feeling it for a moment, his fingers grazing my nipple, before he pulled his hand away, with a small baggie of mix in his hands.

“Look, I wasn’t actually doing anything wrong, okay?.. I’ll do anything, I just.. Please don’t bust me for this.”

He looked at the bag, and he exhaled sharply, you could see the cogs turning in his brain, like clockwork, deciding. Weighing his options, even.

“Anything?” He spoke almost silently.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?” He said, “I’m serious.”

I hesitated for a moment, before simply nodding, and he let out a shaky sigh before grabbing my face, he was still rightfully so, very angry at me, so he firmly pried my mouth open.

“Swallow it.” He spoke sternly before spitting in my mouth.

I swallowed it immediately, “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.”

It took me by surprise how quick the tables had turnt, and his breath shook, and he quickly opened the backseat door, pushing me towards it, though I still stood upright. He had full control, so it seems he wasn’t just going to bend me over and fuck me. At least, not right away.

He pressed his mouth on mine, one hand holding me in place by the waist and the other holding onto the roof of the car. Slowly, he moved his hands down, playing with my belt until he could tug down my jeans so they rested around my knees.

“Hop, c’mon.” I breathed, pulling away though his mouth chased mine slightly. He peaked down, eyeing white panties with a small bow on the elastic.

He pulled away fully, then fiddled with the belt of his own pants, before unbuttoning them and leaving it open like that. I tried to open my legs for him though I was restricted, he pressed our clothed crotches together, a sigh escaping him as he did.

“Can you.. unbutton your shirt?” I asked, a little more timid than I would’ve liked. He gave a short nod, before unbuttoning his shirt so I had a decent view. He was fit, though obviously rockin’ a bit of a dad bod. A good amount of hair and honestly, I could be mad about the last screw I might have for a while, yet I’m not.

“You’re pathetic.”

“Please.” I responded softly, leaning towards him though he simply pulled away. He seemed proud of himself, devolving me into almost begging for it, yet also unsatisfied. “Sir? Please?”

“You’re so smart, such a fast learner.” He said, though it somehow sounded like he was degrading me, and yet, it was driving me crazy.

“I.. I want to touch you.”

“I’m not falling for that.”

“C’mon, Hop. Don’t tease me.” I pleaded with him, and it must’ve worked.

Almost like a switch went off; it was quick, but not harsh, he turned me around and bent me over the back seat.

“Beg for it.”

“I’m not begging for it.”

He took a fist of my hair and pushed my face into the seat, speaking sternly. “Don’t act like you’re not a slut. I’ve heard the stories. Beg.”

“Shit, please.” He pushed my face further; “Please, sir, please!”

“For such a fast learner, you’d think you’d know how to keep out of trouble.” He said, alongside rustling of fabric, I assume pulling your pants down with only one hand isn’t easy. “Last time. Were you at Hargroves or not?”

This was probably the most evil form of interrogation.

“No! I swear it, I hate his guts; him, and his shitty weed. What do I gain from lying to you right now!”

“You do whatever you can to get your kicks out of me. I know you get around. The amount of drunk-tank ramblings about the vixen behaviour you get up to, who knows, this is just another way to fuck with me.”

“Tough talk coming from you.”

“Quit acting like a brat.” He snarled, “You want this, you need this.”

“I don’t.” I lied, and he could tell.

“So if I just pulled up my pants and undid those handcuffs, you wouldn’t kneel and beg about how you need me? I see how you look at me.”

Shit. He played into exactly what I meant and he’s still got me caught.

“No, I mean, yes, I dunno!” I cried with urgency.

“Say you don’t want me to fuck you.”

“I want you to fuck me, Jim, please.”

“Exactly. Look how wet you are.”

He pulled down my panties, soaked beyond any chance of denial, or even dignity I could possibly have left. He shakily breathed, lining himself up to my entrance to only grind against the slickness, teasing.

“Jim, please, I’ll be good, please. I’ll stop getting into trouble, just—”

Almost like a heaven-sent miracle, he began slowly pushing himself deeper, one hand the chain of the handcuffs, and the other still tightly in my hair.

“Oh, shit.” He groaned, bottoming out in a smooth movement.

He began at a slow pace, just to feel the way he felt as he moved. It wasn’t fast enough to build any pleasure.

“Faster, my god.” The pace was agonisingly slow.

“I bet you like it rough, huh?” His grip on my hair tightened, almost stinging.

“Shut up—”

“The rumours are right, aren’t they?” He grunted.

“No, ‘m a good girl.” I panted, “I’ll be your good girl.”

“Are you? How long have you wanted to fuck me?”

“If I tell you, will you fuck me like you mean it?” I pleaded, “C’mon, fuck me real hard, please — I’m good for it.”

He rolled his eyes and began thrusting, the sound of wet slapping sound quietly echoing through the woods.

“You really are just a slut, look at you.” He laughed, letting go of my hair and reaching around and grabbing my throat, pulling me upright. “Answer my question.”

“So long, Jim, I’ve wanted to fuck you for so long.”

“Yeah? Is that why you’re such a little bitch? Why you’re on my nerves all. the. fucking. time?”

“Yeah, ‘m sorry, please.”

“Stop getting into so much fucking trouble.” He cursed, finally letting go of the loose chokehold and grabbing both hips to fuck into me harder, though completely stopping instead.. “All this so I’ll fuck you? Huh?”

“Yes! I’m better than the other dumb whores you fuck, god, shit.”

“Yeah? You want me all to yourself? Say it.”

“I want you, now fucking move!”

He began thrusting again, I went limp and slumped over, he was groaning and only now beginning to lose his composure. I was drooling over the carseat, my eyes were rolling back into my skull, all over some stupid cop with an amazing dick.

“Y’re so nice aren’t you, you’re so good, you’re gonna let me cum right? ‘m your good girl, please, touch my clit, ‘m so close, please, you’ll let me—”

“Look at you, so needy.” He panted, reaching down to toy with my clit. “God, I’m so close, you’re gonna make me cum.”

“Please!” I began chanting as I unwound on him, “Oh, fuck, I’m—”

I clenched around him and felt the rush of the orgasm hit me like a wave, he shuddered and kept fucking into me until my orgasm rode out.

“Feels so good, y’so good..” I mumbled tiredly, feeling him pull his still-hard cock out. “What? What are you doing?”

“I’m not cumming inside you.” He said, stroking his cock to completion.

“Please. Want your cum, please.” I mumbled into the carseat.

“Fine, I’m gonna..” He groaned in annoyance though it could also pass as pleasure.

“Thank you, sir.”

He kept jerking himself off, “Ugh, Y/n, fuck, I’m—” He grunted as he came on the panties still bunched around my knees.

“Can you.. help me.. get dressed?” I mumbled. He sighed, pulling up my panties and jeans before rolling me over to do up the button and zip. “I can feel your cum, s’warm.”

“Yeah. It is.” He sighed, buttoning up the tshirt and scooting me into the car fully.

He got into the driver’s seat and began turning on the car, talking into his walkie talkie about something or other. “Are you goin’ to take me home?”

“No, Y/n. I have to take you to the station for the pot.”

I groaned tiredly. “Oh, fuck off, Hopper.”

#jim hopper #jim hopper smut #jim hopper x you #jim hopper x reader #smut #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut #stranger things fic

[billys-pretty-babe]

Different, but Still Home

Pairing : Kas!Billy x Fem!Reader

Summary : He died in the mall fire, so how come he's knocking at your window with blood red eyes and pretty fangs?

Warnings : Blood, blood drinking, swearing, period mentions (reader is not on her period), smut (fingering, unprotected piv, light choking)

Word count: 3,777

A/N : based on the lore of kas the bloody handed, billy has a good chance of coming back but this is just an opinion of mine : )

A/N 2 : many of you have read this, but I altered the ending so that there's smut and not just implied smut, enjoy < 3

The moon lit up your room, Billy had always loved the way you looked in the light, especially like this. He felt like a creep of some sort, watching his beloved curled up with the pillow he had always used. His fingers traced the glass and before he knew it, he was softly knocking at it. He watched you stir before settling.

You put a hand over your ears, you had heard something, but you didn't know what. Unfortunately, you were skittish, and Billy always took care of the scary noises for you. The thought brought tears to your eyes, how your boyfriend, the boy who protected you from the scary things in the world, was gone. It had been nearly a year, and your heart was still hurting at each mention of his name, each picture you saw.

Another sound came from the window, and you slowly brought your eyes to the window, gulping, telling yourself it was just a tree branch knocking against the glass. Your eyes darted over, locking onto red ones, but they were familiar. They were your home, but he looked different, home looked scary.

Billy tapped at the glass again, needing you to let him inside. His finger came up, using a come-hither motion as he beckoned you over and you walked over cautiously. He smiled, close lipped as he made a motion to open the window. You took him in, he was as gorgeous as ever, but something was off, he still looked like your Billy except for his eyes.

You cautiously opened the window, and he ducked inside, his footsteps made no sound, making you wary. He shut the window and looked at you, "Hi baby," his voice was as smooth as you remembered it. You wanted to cry, wanted to question him, but your mouth went dry. You couldn't say or do anything, it was like you were stuck. His fingers came up to your face, they were slightly cold but nothing too odd.

He tilted your head up, so you were making eye contact as the red went back to the blue that you loved dearly. "Billy." He smiled, teeth on display, his canines were longer than you remember. You hugged him tightly, you had to. His arms came around you, holding you close to him. You put your ear over his chest, where his heart would be.

"It doesn't beat anymore, baby." You put your chin to his chest so you could look at him. "How come?" He smiled, bringing his hand up to your cheek and rubbing it gently. "Sit down so we can talk." You nodded, sitting on your bed and he sat with you. "You died." He laughed, nodding. "I did, but something happened, I don't know what, but I became this thing. I drink blood, I sleep during the day, and I got these." He opened his mouth, running his tongue across his canines.

"Vampire," you questioned. It was a long shot but hell, it was Hawkins, you've seen flower faced slimy dogs running around, tentacles split the ground, and most of all, you saw your boyfriend get killed by a shadow monster. He laid back, "Yeah, guess so." You nodded, still looking at him.

"Do you have feelings still?" He nodded, "Yeah, I think so, well actually, I don't know. I still get aroused and shit." You hummed, pursing your lips, "Sounds like Billy Hargrove never died." He laughed, putting his hand out for you to take. You cautiously took it, and he pulled you down swiftly, so you laid beside him.

"I came back for you for a reason. Max is gone, my dad's gone, Susan didn't mean much to me, you're the home I have left." You nodded, curling up to him. "I know, B. I'm sorry." He shook his head, kissing the top of your hair.

"I missed you," you softly said. He nodded, "I know, I missed you too. I would've come back sooner but the gate wasn't open, not until that cheerleader died. Did you know Harrington is dating Wheeler again?" You softly gasped and he nodded, "I saw them down there. Wasn't she dating Byers?" You nodded, "Yeah, I thought they were still together, I just saw them two days ago." He shrugged, "From what I saw in the Upside Down, there's something between her and Harrington." You nodded.

Billy rubbed his eyes as he patted your side. "Are you okay," you softly asked. He shook his head, "I need to feed, I'll be back." You looked at him, "Feed like on human blood?" He nodded, "Hopper's weird kid gets me blood from the hospital, that's the only way Hopper would let me live with him, if I didn't feed on people." You nodded.

"This might be a long shot and might kill me, but I just got you back. You can feed on me." He shook his head quickly, "No, I'll hurt you." You shook your head, "B, nothing has and will ever hurt worse than watching you die in the mall. Please, I don't want you to leave." He contemplated it.

"Okay, but if it hurts tell me." You nodded and he pulled you into his lap as he sat up. He felt around your neck. "Not trying to go for the jugular, give me a sec." You hummed, nodding slightly. He found a perfect spot and looked at you. "Ready?" You nodded again. "Hold still." He leaned in, placing a featherlight kiss on your neck, a silent apology for the pain he was about to put you through.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, lips brushing over your warm skin. You felt the sharp sting of his fangs and you squeezed your eyes shut, it felt you were getting a shot with millions of the sharpest needles. He held you tightly, doing his best to comfort you. The pain subsided when his lips touched your neck, his lower set of teeth were resting on your skin. His eyes fluttered shut, you were warm, this was intimate, more intimate than sex.

His right hand held your waist tightly as his left held the other side of your neck. You felt the blood leaving you, making you slightly dizzy and even a little nauseated. Your heart raced and Billy picked up on it as he gently pulled away. He licked the wound before sucking his teeth. He was satiated as he licked his lips, humming.

Your blood tasted different, maybe because you were warm but there was something in it that he had never tasted before, even on the bags that had an F on them. "Baby," he questioned. You hummed in response. "Are you on your period?" You shook your head, immediately regretting it as you got dizzier. "Let me get you some juice and candy, gotta get your blood sugar back up." He left your room; he was as quiet as night as he rummaged through the kitchen before going back to your room.

He opened the juice bottle, handing it to you as he opened the chocolate. Chocolate was his favorite when he was human, it was one of the only things he missed, you were at the top of the list until tonight. He handed you the candy bar as he sat down beside you.

"That was kind of hot," you said after taking a few bites of the candy. He laughed, looking at your neck. "So, am I a vampire now?" He shook his head, "No." You hummed, "Can I be?" He shook his head again. "Boo," you said, thumb down as you booed your boyfriend. He laughed, pulling you close, head resting on yours. "Maybe one day, I had to go a year without you, imagine eternity, I'd have to stake my own heart just to be with you again." You smiled, kissing his jaw.

"Oh, why'd you ask if I was on my period?" He hummed, "Your blood was sweet tasting, different than the bags." You nodded, "I'm ovulating." He nodded, his brain was filling with the memories of you under him, on top of him, in front of him, your moans filled his brain.

"You know," you said as you put the candy and juice down, "I've always wondered what it was like to fuck a vampire." He laughed. "Yeah? Your dirty books finally catching up to you?" You gasped, "You said you wouldn't bring them up." He laughed, pulling you down as he laid down, kissing you hard. "We have a year to make up for." You nodded.

He planted his lips back on yours, rolling so you were underneath him, pressing his body against yours. Your body was heating up with each passing moment that his hips were on yours. The two of you were still fully clothed but you could feel just how hard he was, his erection pressing against the zipper of his jeans.

"I love you, fuck I love you so much," he said as he pressed his lips to your skin, his nose nuzzling your skin with each kiss. "I love you too," you whimpered when he kissed the bite mark, he had left. He kissed down to your chest; the deep neckline of your sleep shirt was keeping him from kissing down the rest of your body.

"You can take it off," you said, getting antsy. Would it feel different? Would he still be able to cum inside of you? There were so many questions that you needed an answer to. His fingers played with the hem of the soft and tattered t-shirt before he slipped it over your head.

He looked at your bare chest, you rarely ever wore a bra, always complaining about underwire. His left hand came up, tweaking one of your nipples and you moaned, back arching. He smiled; you were always so receptive to his touch; this was one of the many things he missed about you.

"Bet you played with yourself while I was gone. Probably had two fingers in that pretty pussy, didn't you baby," he asked. You couldn't even answer him, too focused on the way his thumb was gently rubbing the peak of your nipple as his index and middle finger were on top of your boob.

His head dipped down, kissing the valley of your breasts. His mouth moved to your left breast, letting his teeth graze across your nipple. "Billy, fuck," you moaned. You were getting impatient, stomping your foot against the mattress a little. He smiled against your warm skin, "Don't be a brat," he mumbled, sucking on your flesh.

He left pretty bruises behind, knowing your clothes would cover them up. He kissed below your belly button and kissed the pretty bow on the front of your underwear. He moved down a little, kissing your thigh, biting them just enough for teeth marks to show, but not hard enough to puncture your skin.

"Can fucking smell you," he said, his lips brushing the skin on your inner thigh, very close to where he needed to be. He could see the wet patch of your arousal on your underwear, thankful for the white light that the moon was emitting. "Please do something," you begged. You needed him, in any way you could get him.

He hummed, moving you so your legs were over his shoulders as he kissed the wet fabric. He watched the little patch become larger as he laughed at you. He was a tease, even now and you hated it. His hands reached to your left leg, grabbing the fabric and pulling the seams apart before doing the same on the other side as he pulled the ruined underwear from your body, dropping them to the floor.

He grabbed your thighs, spreading them so your feet were dangling just above his shoulders. He watched the way you were spreading for him, seeing the strings of your arousal, watching the way they broke, falling to your skin. "Fuck," he groaned, letting out a little moan at the end of the word.

"So fuckin' pretty," he said, voice raspy with lust. He leaned forward, kissing your slit before sucking it gently, letting his teeth barely graze the peak of it, right where you were the most sensitive. You moaned, kicking your feet a little and he snickered, pulling away from you. He let your legs gently drop onto his shoulders as he brought up his middle and ring finger to your clit, circling it a few times to spread your slick around.

"You played with yourself before you went to sleep, didn't you?" Your heart stopped. How did he know? You glanced down at him, "Maybe." He laughed, letting his two fingers move down before gently pressing them into you. His fingers were thick and considering you never hooked up with anyone after his death, there was a little discomfort.

"Slow," you softly said. He nodded, pressing a kiss to your skin as he went slowly, until his fingers were completely in you, your slick falling to his hand. He gently pumped his fingers into you, spreading them to get your walls ready for him.

"Fuckin' love you," he said against your skin. His eyes were locked on the way your body was accepting his fingers. He curled them, feeling the way your heels dug into his back with the motion and he snickered. "Feels good, huh baby?" You quickly nodded, "Uh huh." He stifled a laugh.

He knew exactly how to take care of your body; he knew how to pull you apart and put you right back together. "Come on baby," he said as he sped his fingers up. "Need you to let go for me, know how bad you need my cock." Your breathing was picking up, practically panting with each movement.

His right hand patted the side of your thigh. He watched the way your body reacted to everything. He couldn't wait to be inside you, watching you fall apart from him. You clenched around his fingers, a big indicator that you were right there at the edge, you just needed something to push you over.

He leaned forward, placing his lips on your clit, his tongue flicking the peak. You moaned loudly with whines mixed in as you tried to move your feet. He eased you through your orgasm, pulling his fingers from you with a small pop as he watched your slick drip. He couldn't help himself, licking right where his fingers were. He moaned at the taste of you, missing it so dearly.

He desperately wished he could feed off of it instead of blood, he knew he'd never go hungry. "Shit, B, feels good," you moaned, fingers going down to his hair as you pulled a little, knowing how much he liked it. He moaned again, pressing his face further into you. His nose was getting squished, but he didn't care. That was another perk of being the living dead, he could eat you out forever and not have to worry about suffocating.

He pulled back, lips glistening as his tongue came out and cleaned up your mess on his face. He stood up, letting your legs fall to the bed. "Roll over." You rolled over, putting your chest on the mattress as you put your ass in the air. "There we go," he said. You heard his zipper before his belt buckle hit the floor.

He took his underwear off, hand going to your bedside table where his pack of rubbers were. Truthfully, Billy wasn't sure if he shot blanks or not. You couldn't possibly get pregnant, could you? "Want me to wrap up?" You shook your head, letting your head rest against the soft blanket on your bed. "Okay," he softly said. His hand came to the bottom of your back, rubbing it softly.

He grabbed right below his tip, not needing to give himself a few tugs because of how hard he was. He guided his tip to your entrance, feeling how warm you were. His tip was getting wet as he tapped it against your hole, teasing a little. He took in your little moans, it was getting to his head, needing to hear them for however long he would live.

"Ready," he asked, his right hand moving to your hip, holding you tightly. You quickly nodded. He hummed, "I need words, baby, you know that." You cleared your throat, "I'm ready, please Billy." He nodded, adjusting himself as he placed his thumb right at the bottom of his tip as he gently guided himself into you. He didn't know who moaned first, you or him. His blunt nails dug into your skin, needing to get a grasp to make sure this was real.

You held the blanket, needing to hold something. "Fuck, stop clenching," he said. His words came out whinier than he meant them to. You got your breathing under control, finally being able to relax. "There we go, that's a good girl," he said, his voice thick with lust. He pushed into you more, his hand tightening on your waist every time you clenched around him.

Before his hips could press against your ass, he pulled back a little, quickly snapping his hips. You moaned loudly, not having to care if anyone could hear the two of you since you were left alone for a few days. "Shit baby, you feel so good," he said, dipping his head down to kiss your back. His hips snapped once again, his tip hitting your G-spot. "Fuck," you squeaked, that spot hadn't been touched in a year.

He laughed, pushing his hair back. "Yeah? That's the spot, huh baby?" You nodded, pushing your ass back against him. "Uh uh," he said, almost reprimanding you. "You just lay there, let me do all the work." With that, you let yourself fully relax, feeling his thighs stick to yours each time he thrust back into you.

He quickened his pace, the room echoing with slapping skin, wet sounds from the way you were sucking him in and the moans from the two of you. "Fuck, that's it," he said, his left hand crawling up your back as he leaned forward, his head right behind yours as his hand moved to the front of your throat.

His hand clamped down, knowing where to press his fingers so you wouldn't get hurt. Your moans grew louder at the slight pressure. He kissed your back again before kissing the back of your neck. "That's good baby, just take it. I know you can." Your ass rippled with each snap of his hips, he was aggressive, and you loved it, especially right now.

His fingers tightened just a little, knowing how much you could take. You clenched around his cock, not wanting him to ever pull out. Your left hand held his arm, wanting to hold him which was nearly impossible in this position.

"Need me to do anything differently?" He could feel how close you were. He felt the way your slick was moving down his base to his balls, getting them wet as they hit your clit with each thrust, providing even more stimulation for you. It was messy, the way his skin was getting stuck to yours. On a whim, he pulled you up so the two of you were propped up as you were sitting on his thighs.

He let go of your waist, putting the hell of his hand on your chin, two fingers going to your lips. "Get 'em wet for me." You sucked on his fingers, and he pulled them out, seeing the string of spit break as it fell to your chin, and some got on your chest. His fingers made contact with your clit, rubbing circles and pinching just a little, enough to make you squeal so that your legs fell open more, so his cock was completely inside of you.

Your hips stuttered forward as you were pushed over the edge. Your body felt like static, toes and fingers going numb. Your mouth hung open, no sound coming out as your eyes were squeezed shut. "There we go," he said against your hair. He listened to how breathy you were as his head fell to your shoulder.

He was trying to breathe through his impending orgasm, but he couldn't do it, letting his own body succumb to the wave of pleasure. His hips moved with sloppy movements, still getting stimulation. His breath was heavy as he said profanities. He kissed the back of your shoulder, gently laying you back down on your stomach.

He carefully pulled out, expecting a rush of white to follow his tip but it wasn't there. "Cool, it's like a vasectomy," he said, quickly smacking your ass making you jump. He laughed, getting up as he watched you, poking your skin. "Did I kill you?" You raised your hand, middle finger up as he laughed, smacking a kiss to your skin.

He groaned, moving around your room as he grabbed a clean towel, wiping his body off. He cleaned you off, "Stop moving he said," when the fabric touched your clit. "I'm sensitive," you said, moving your hips back. He handed you a water bottle that was half full, sharing it with you.

He laid down, pushing his hair out of his face as he pulled the blanket up as he laughed, watching you lay across the bed on your back, staring at the ceiling. He leaned forward, gently grabbing you and pulling you to where he was. You laid on his chest, thankful you slept with the fan on as it cooled you down.

"Jesus." He laughed at you, running his hand over your hair as he kissed any skin he could reach. "Go to sleep, we'll do more tomorrow if you can take it." You hummed, nodding. "Okay, but I'm riding you." He rolled his eyes, "Yeah right, two minutes in you'll be whining, asking me to fuck you. You're not a rider, and that's okay baby." It was your turn to roll your eyes. "Shut up, go to sleep or whatever the hell you do." He laughed, rubbing your side, watching your heavy eyes close.

He felt your back move slowly over time with each rise and fall of your chest. He rubbed your skin with his thumb, watching you sleep. He was hoping that there would be no other threats to Hawkins, he wouldn't know what to do without you. He lived a year without you, and he vowed never again. "I love you," he said softly, the words moving through the night air.

@floredaqueen @buckysgrace

#billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove #stranger things billy #william hargrove #billy hargrove x f!reader #billy hargrove x female reader #billy stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #billy hargove imagine #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove smut

[filthyfluffyfantasies]

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . DL;DR - this fic is not meant for anyone under the age of 18 as it contains the following: a/b/o dynamics + writer's own twists on the trope and werewolf lore, p in v sex, body fluids, biting/marking, dirty talk, an ooc/gentler side of billy hargrove, use of petnames, swearing, creampie,hints of a breeding kink have entered the chat. listen, if you don't like a/b/o fanfiction then it's for the best you don't read this because this is full of stuff present in the trope ; knotting, the mate bite, etc... writer does not give permission for her works to be reposted, with or without permission. ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

prompt - a/b/o ( bonus ficlet )

character | fandom - werewolf!alpha Billy Hargrove | stranger things

reader | original character - female reader, omega!reader & non -or vague, description.

words - roughly 2.3k

tagging - < taglist here >

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . billy takes what belongs to him and you're happy to let him..✧ ˚ 　· 　　

The windows are starting to fog. Metallica is playing softly on the radio and you haven’t stopped kissing Billy Hargrove for hours. Parts of you realize that when -if, your mind corrects, you finally drag yourself home after it’s all done, your mother is most likely going to murder you. Even bigger parts of you have decided that maybe you just don’t give a damn. She made her choice and now, as you slip over the console and into Billy’s lap in the driver seat of his Camaro, you’re going to make yours and let the chips fall wherever they happen to.

Maybe the two of you will have a different ending than your mother and his father. If this was doomed to fail, it wouldn’t feel so right. You’re acting on instinct and your instinct tells you to choose Billy. Stick with that choice and don’t look back.

Billy groans as soon as he feels the heat of your wet little cunt pressed against the zip of his jeans. As soon as it clicks that you were only wearing a sweater that swallowed you whole and a pair of panties when he helped you break out of your bedroom earlier, he growls to himself and bucks up into you clumsily. There isn’t a thought in this boy’s brain but getting you naked and pinned beneath his body. Fucking you until you’re begging him to stop. 

And he’s got a feeling about your little decision… If anybody ever even thinks they’re going to call to question which Alpha is your alpha in the future, he’ll fight to the death. Keep her close, she’s the only fucking person that’s ever chosen me and she did it barely knowing me. Just don’t let this fuck up.. She’s the only one I need now.

And he knows that it’s the wolf inside -and the intensity of the bond that’s about to be solidified, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t want to stop and overthink for the millionth time. Neil has to be wrong this time, he has to be.

What remains of Billy’s shattered heart depends on it. 

You’re rocking yourself back and forth over the way his cock strains at his jeans and his head falls against the seat. ❝ Get in the backseat.❞ he growls out against the shell of your ear as you start to rub against him with more urgency. The smell of you as you get wetter and wetter has him hungry. Desperate.

Like he’s never wanted -or needed, something this much in his entire life. He’s giving up the fight, he knows he’ll never win if he were to keep trying. 

You slip out of  Billy’s lap and over the space between the seats and Billy’s right behind you, his muscular frame caging you in. He stares down at you hungrily, chest heaving as he tries to breathe properly. There’s excitement in the air, this feels different than his usual backseat trysts.

His heart is pounding so hard he can feel each steady beat in his ears. You’re pinned below him, trying to rub against him and keep body contact. His hand slips up the bottom of the oversized sweater and catches at the side of your panties, tugging them down. They’re tossed into the car somewhere from over his shoulder. You sit up and you’re thisclose to him, your hands grip either side of the red shirt he’s wearing, pulling it apart.

He chuckles quietly, the soft sounds of your mouths every single time they meet again just barely register under the current Metallica song that’s playing from his stereo. As you raise a hand to work the shirt off his body, he pushes your hand down instead, pulling off his own shirt. 

Your hand shakes as it settles on the waistband of his favorite jeans and he catches sight of it, leans in to mumble in a taunting tone against your skin, ❝ If you’re having second thoughts, doll...❞ but you’re already shaking your head no and trying to work the button on his jeans through the buttonhole. He pushes you back against the seat and lowers your hand, staring down at you for a few seconds, quiet. ❝ Y’know this is permanent… Right?❞

You nod, the nod is so eager that your soft curls bounce. And those big beautiful eyes only grow wider as Billy strips off his jeans and underwear, letting them fall to his ankles. When you catch sight of his thick cock as it springs free and stands at attention, the tip an angry red, you whine in need. The sound of your whining makes him laugh quietly and he leans down into you, pushing the oversized sweater up and stripping it away from your body. That’s thrown over the back of his seat, left to hang.

The second he catches sight of the way your thighs are absolutely coated in slick, he can’t stop the animalistic growl that bubbles up from deep inside. ❝ Sweetheart, I’m going to ruin you for anybody else. You really sure you want that? Answer me, doll.❞ his voice is a smoky growl next to your ear as his nose drifts down,settles on the space between your neck and shoulder. The scent of you all heavy and sweet fills his nose and clouds his judgment. He grimaces as his fangs push through.

❝ Billy!❞ you’re whining his name as you’re rocking yourself up into him, clumsy and frantic. That feverish and jittery feeling you’ve had all day is starting to calm but only a little. You need him and you need him now. And you’re desperate enough to beg if you have to. You’ve made your decision. Nothing else matters.

He settles himself down into you and his mouth grazes the patch of skin covering your scent glands. You gasp and dig your nails into his strong biceps and he grunts, rutting into you, feverish. His cockhead keeps grazing against your throbbing cunt and you moan because it feels so good. His fangs sink in, breaking skin. Marking you. Flooding both of you with adrenaline and dopamine and Billy lets the bite last longer just because it’s the first time he’s actually felt anything in a long time.

It feels like he’s waking up. Like everything in his life up to this point has been a dream -or a nightmare, he thinks, and now, maybe it’s finally over. Maybe it’ll finally be better. You’re squirming beneath him, so desperate for friction, for more of him that you’re dripping, your juices pool on smooth leather seats.

❝ Didn’t hurt, did it?❞ he asks quietly as the shocked daze he’s been in for nearly two minutes starts to wear off and he realizes what he’s just done -and how permanent it is.

You shake your head. Billy stares at the angry red wound and licks his lips, satisfied but not completely satisfied. No, he thinks, that won’t happen until I’m buried inside and she’s all fucked out and begging for more. 

He needs more. To taste you. Look up from where he’s settled between your thighs and watch your face as you come undone, his name falling off your lips like it’s the only word you can remember. That said, he lowers himself. You giggle as the warmth of his breath tickles your bare skin and at the sound, he pauses to look up and lock eyes with you. Licking his lips.

That predatory look is back and somehow, more smug. Like he’s finally succeeded. He’s finally gotten his prey.

Rough lips latch against your thighs and your fingers clutch at his hair as you try to pull enough so that his mouth winds up exactly where you want it the most. But Billy’s focused. He’s determined to do this a certain way.

❝ Jesus, fuck..❞ he groans out against the soft dough of your inner thigh as his tongue rolls up to lick you clean, ❝ Somebody’s real needy tonight, huh?❞ and as his tongue rolls over your sex you shiver all over at the feeling.

You tug at his hair a little more and Billy’s tongue and fingers bury inside you, relentless. Fucking into you until you’re shaking and begging, a hand gripping your hip to hold you still so he has all the control. He pauses to look up at you, growling to himself as he watches the way your eyes flutter closed and your back arches upward, body seeking out his tongue and his fingers, so fucked out already that you’re even drooling a little.

He dips his head again. The slurps as he licks you clean and his groans are enough to make you even wetter. You can barely breathe but you use the breath you have to beg him to bury his cock inside you, feverish. Needy.

Billy raises up and pulls himself up your body, leaning down into you and as his mouth crashes against your own, you can taste yourself on his tongue. ❝ Ready for me, darling?❞ he mutters against the shell of your ear as he reaches down, drags his cock between your folds to tease you. When you try to pull him in completely, he chuckles. ❝ ‘S not gonna hurt long, doll. I need y’ to be still. Let me handle this.❞ and you nod.

His cock sinks inside you, just barely at first. But he’s so thick and veiny that as he enters you, you feel like you’re being split in two. You tense beneath him and cling, your arms around his neck, fingers leaving crescent imprints against his bare shoulders. This turns to nails being raked down his back seconds later as the burning too full sensation starts to ebb and you need all of him at once. He growls and nips your bottom lip roughly, his cock burying inside you even more. 

❝ Goddamn.❞ he laughs against your skin as he sucks at it, ❝ Pretty little pussy is just squeezing my cock, sweetheart...❞ he’s thrusting slow and deep, the Camaro’s frame starting to rock with each thrust, ❝I’m tempted to fuck a baby into you.❞ -and this freezes him for a second when it slips out of his mouth because he’s confronted with the fact that he kind of means it. His father’s warning about the way the mate bond consumes a person comes rushing back.

But, silly as it seems, as Neil’s words repeat on one side, his stepsister Max telling him that he’s not his father and he doesn’t have to become him are repeating on the other. This won’t turn into that. It can’t. Billy Hargrove makes up his mind in the seconds it takes for the knot to bury inside your pretty little cunt as you’re pinned beneath him in his backseat that he won’t let this turn into that. As he starts to fuck into you faster, you’re so responsive. Begging. Meeting his deep drives with your own clumsy movements as your mouth latches against his chest because it’s the only part of him that’s close enough to be reached.

His hand squeezes your hip and he tenses, trying to stop himself from coming undone. As he slows down his thrusts, you cling to him, fucking through the high of your own second orgasm. He stops to crash his mouth against your own, going totally still inside you as the kiss deepens.

The fever is almost gone now. But the way you keep touching him, your soft little body melted against him and those soft hands being so damn gentle as they drag over every inch of him, it’s enough to get him hot all over again. With a quiet chuckle, he finally obliges you a little movement, slow and lazy thrusts just to keep himself from coming just yet. 

❝ Billy!❞ you plead as you rock yourself against him. He chuckles quietly. The cassette tape is silent, it’s finished at some point and both of you were so caught up in the moment that neither of you noticed. As you start to fuck yourself onto his length, he groans your name and the restraint he was trying to use is gone. You’re frantic, chasing another orgasm as it builds. Watching you pinned beneath him makes him feral and he’s fucking into you furiously, the car rocking steadily now as his hand presses against foggy glass when he decides to brace himself for leverage.

He bottoms out and as his cock strikes against that one magical spot deep inside you, you moan his name over and over. ❝ Louder, doll.❞ he chuckles against your ear, ❝ Let everybody in Hawkins know whos about to cum in your tight little cunt.❞

His hips falter and he groans against your neck as he sucks on it again, the grip on your hip with his hand so tight that you can’t move or meet his thrusts as he fucks into you, feverish and frantic. He tries to stop himself but it’s too late. Sticky seed empties inside you and instead of stopping, he’s determined to fuck it into you even deeper.

As he fucks himself through his orgasm, he melts down into you. Going still. Holding onto you so tight that you’re crushed against him and for a second, you struggle to breathe.

❝ This is gonna happen again, doll.. And you don’t need t’ be alone when it does.❞

You nod. Somehow you got the feeling that this fever stuff wasn’t done. He’s gone quiet again, lost in thought. He’s trying to figure out a place where the two of you can go just to disappear.

❝I don’t wanna be alone.❞ you mumble quietly. Dragging your thumb against his cheek. He nuzzles into the touch and you speak up again. ❝ What if we just like.. Left town?❞

Billy chuckles. ❝ Okay, but where would we even go, hm?❞ he’s settled himself down into your body, letting you mold against him. One hand caressing your cheek as he stares down at you. ❝ I mean, I was gonna suggest hiding out at my friend Rick’s cabin for a while, but…❞ he takes a few shaky breaths, ❝ There’s really not shit holdin me here.. Never has been.❞

You’re dragging your finger over his chest and he shivers at the soft touch. You laugh softly. ❝ Where’d you move here from?❞

❝ California, but..❞ Billy goes quiet because he’s not trying to let anything stop him from being with you. He refuses to be away now that the bond has been made. ❝ So we’ll go there, Billy.❞ you mumble softly as you nuzzle against him. He chuckles and nods. ❝ Okay, doll. We’ll go there.❞

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x fem!reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #( ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ʟɪsᴛ ✔ ) #lazyghoulskinktober2023 #( ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪɴɪ sᴇʀɪᴇs; ᴘᴛ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ)

[lorifragolina]

Under the Myrtle

My second fic for the @strangerthingsreversebigbang in collaboration with the talented @raven-cl and their spectacular Bily/Steve art!

Word Count: 9884

Rating:  E

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Billy Hargrove

Character(s): Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington's parents

Tags:  References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Greek Mythology, Bottom Billy Hargrove, Top Steve Harrington, vecna is a god sex in the water Sex in the woodsBroken Promises Heartbreaking

A shepherd and a stranger, in the woods by the lake, under the myrtle, in a sweet, warm spring. There is love, there are secrets, there are broken promises and faith in the gods. --- He was wearing the white tunic, almost completely opened on his chest, and a golden chain was sparkling around his neck. He was barefoot and the pebbles and twigs seemed to not bother him. The man stood near him, looking at him with a smile. He was more or less as tall as him, but for some reason Steve felt uneasy in front of him. He sat up and looked at the man in return, speechless and bewitched. “You…” he heard himself whispering to the stranger. The air seemed still and he feared breathing. The man giggled, and this little laugh seemed like the song of a fresh and cheerful waterfall. “It’s you who spies on people when they are taking their baths?” The man asked, still smiling under his tiny mustaches, tilting his head to him. Steve nodded. He couldn't trust his own voice. “You scared me,” continued the other sweetly. Steve blinked, and the man got nearer and sat at his side.

Beta Reader: @kallisto-k

Art by @raven-cl

#stranger things #writing #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #stranger things reverse big bang #strbb #inspired by #hawkinshearts

[mangywayway]

Okay, I never shared anything about Harpy!Billy scars, and I thought that is incredible stupid considering that those aren't just top surgery scars, but they are also very important on the world of harpies and his life journey in general. I will try and explain this as clearly as I can, so bear with me in case you find mistakes or unclear stuff. There is a small amount of self harm at the end, so tw in case.

First of all, ALL the harpies get a simple scar under their breasts when they manage to transform for the first time in what is considered their true form (aka body of a bird and only the head being human). The first transformation give you the right to have the "minor/small feathers" and those are the first row just under the breast. This usually happens around the age of 10-12 years old. After, usually between the age of 12 to 14, young harpies learn how to fly and how to transform effectively without repercussions on their body (and that's also include how to shapeshift into a more humanoid form, so no wings at all and no bird legs), and that give them the right to get the "major/bigger feathers".

Both row of feathers are made of a material similar to gold, but usually worked only by harpies (and some other birdlike creatures). They consist of these thin "gold" pieces that get inserted in the wounds made under the breasts, and then they wait until the skin closes and kinda "incorporate" them. It's painful, but not to an extreme. It's a big tradition and it's something that all the mother do to their children (if there is no mother it could a grandma, a sister, a aunt, whoever they just need to belong to the harpies).

Doesn't matter your status, everybody get theirs. Harpies who come from wealthy family can get a more decorated version of the feathers, or even get more decoration on their body (think of it as similar to how humans get piercings etc). Even if you can see a difference in the "quality " of the feathers is still frown upon heavily if someone use their feathers to show how much wealthy they are etc. It's considered "tacky" because it's not about appearance but more about small harpies becoming adults. A growing matter, so to speak.

Billy scars aren't clear as the others harpies because he damaged them himself when he was around 17-18 y/o (his mother gave him the traditional two row of when he was 11 and nearly 13 respectively, then he reopened them and created the rays he has now). (This action has been done for specific motives that I'm not disclosing now).

He tried to sell the feathers but the pawn shop accepted only the bigger ones because they small one looked too damaged by his work and weren't worth it (he didn't remove them, but he was ready to do it if the shop accepted them). He got around 1k with difficulty only by selling the big feathers (he's was scammed a little, bc harpies' gold is worthier than traditional gold, even if not much, and he knew it, but he was desperate) and used those money (plus some more funds) to run away from home.

He lived on and off the road for some months, doing various jobs etc, before managing to establish himself in the city (where he met some people willing to help him).

He only managed to start transitioning and have top surgery when he was 25 y/o.

In the present of the story almost a year has passed and he's around the age of 26.

I hope I managed to explain everything. Some stuff could change in the future but I'm pretty sure about 90% so I dunno. The meaning behind the scars doesn't change tho.

#harpy billy hargrove #mythology au #lore #finally trying and explain some stuff about them #tw self harm

[ihni]

My 2023 in fics

Tagged by @billyharringson, thank you, this was a lot of fun!

January: Hot and Cold (or How To Serve Revenge) - a fic I wrote in January (but posted in February, schhhh). Got challenged by @callieb to write hurt/no comfort, and I have it on good authority that I succeeded ... (it has spawned no less than two fix-its and one more continuation by other people so far, which I am awfully pleased about actually)

February: Again and again and again and again, a time loop fic that I love, and would like to read like 80K about. ... yes, read. I don't have time to write more on it now. But I had so much fun writing this, and it is one of my favorite kinds of fics; a short one with potential.

March: March was busy. There was Billy's Birthday Bonanza, and also I wrote for the Billy Hargrove Bingo. I posted a lot of fics then, most of them short. So I'm gonna link two, because I can (and no one told me any rules for this tagging game); Boys, Beards and Best Friends, because it was so much fun writing Billy and Heather being BFFs and also the boys being set up, and then Over the edge, which is one of my favorites, because it was so goddamn fun to write! (Murder mystery prank going wrong, muahahaaa! Don't worry though, no one dies for real.)

April: A piece of meaning on your skin, a little fic I wrote for the Harringrove Flip Reverse It event, about the boys choosing tattoos for each other as a part of a bet. I still think it's cute.

May: I like Flo, okay, and like to incorporate her into fics. In Patience, I wrote about her first impressions of Billy, for the Billy Hargrove Bingo.

June-July: Posted in June, finished posting in July (but written on and off over the course of several years previous ...), Taking Notes is my longest fanfic yet at about 93K. And, listen, I love it. It's a body swap fic, where the boys swap bodies. And then again. And again. Etc. I am so proud of this one, actually.

August: Posted Pal, which is 17K of Billy befriending a stray demodog. I 100% believe Billy would like animals better than most humans, and this fic is basically him being a bit dumb but also a good friend to Pal, the demodog. And then them going into protective mode for each other. I am soft for this one, still.

September: I'm picking a short one that I first posted on tumblr and then onto AO3; Seagulls. It's ... well, it's sad in a way, in that it takes place when Billy's dying at the mall, but it's also comforting in a way, because he gets to leave all that bullshit behind and is greeted by his mom again.

October: Picking Just another night at Motel 6 on Cornwallis, because Billy deserves to get to tell Karen no, and Karen deserves to be shamed for what she did (yes, in this fic she showed up). It was immensely satisfying to write.

November: I didn't get much posted in November (because NaNo), but I did get chapter 3 of Finding Billy posted (it's a finished fic now, though, don't worry). It's a whumpy fic I had to write after a couple of chats with friends, about Billy being held with the Lab people after the whole Starcourt thing, and then Steve and Max and Hop finding out and getting him out of there. Poor boy's been through a lot in this one - but things are getting better, promise!

December: Started posting Home is where the knitted mittens are, which is my latest fic. No ships, no romance. Just Billy finding out he's a werewolf and having to deal with that in Hawkins, Indiana, without much of a safety net. Listen, I'm weak for werewolf Billy, okay? And I made up some werewolf lore in this one which is a mix of all the things I like. (It was literally a reason for me to get to write something "nesting"-adjacent, without having to go into A/B/O-territory.) Definitely written mostly for myself, and I love it dearly. (Featuring werewolf!Scott Clarke too, because why not right??)

Huh, I never thought I'd had enough to fill a whole year's worth, but look at that! I'm proud of myself for this :)

Tagging @callieb (yes, individual chapters work!), @weird-an and @mikajupiterjonesingtimcurryfeet if you guys wanna do it as well :) (And YOU, reading this, if you wanna do it! Consider yourself tagged if you're reading this and think it looks fun - because it IS)

#tagging games #ihni writes #fic recs

[hargrove-mayfields]

It’s Harringrove week! Billy’s Birthday Bonanza Edition! @harringroveweek

prompt: “So, did you get what you wanted?”

this piece is something like a part two to this piece, if you’d like to read it first!

—

Billy's actual birthday is finally here. A big finish to their amazing first week with the twins, their darlings sleeping soundly in two cradles, Aurora by Billy’s chair and Briar Rose by Steve’s.

Each of the other kids have brought him their gifts, all nine handing him paintings and crafts they made of their favorite things, their family, or just something they thought was pretty. Tommy especially put a lot of effort into his, since drawing is his favorite thing to do. He made a picture of the beach with a smiling sunshine that had Billy sniffling and wiping his eyes, just a little bit.

He thinks presents are over, and he thanks each of them individually to watch the way their little faces light up to know they did something good, but then he sees his shy angel Summer parading over to him with one last package she produced from somewhere.

One handed, she signs to him and tosses it into his lap somewhat impatiently, “Open it up!”

Billy chuckles at her excitedness and the way she practically vibrates with it, but for just a moment he wonders if he should turn this into a parenting moment. Something about perceptual rudeness. Fuck it. He’s not about to crush the little bit of confidence they’ve been able to encourage out of their adopted daughter over the last three years over some present skipping, as long as it’s not hurting anyone.

After Summer runs back to her brother Joey and hides her face in a hug with him, Billy makes sure to examine the present for a while, giving little awestruck gasps and ahs so she knows how happy and grateful he is. One day, little Summer is going to come into her own, and until then, Billy’s going to do his damndest to help her out.

The production draws the attention of another of their daughters though, as Bobbi-Jo hops out of her chair and comes over to Billy, opening and closing her outstretched palms to show she wants to touch the present, quiet because she woke up in a grumpy mood this morning.

Billy understands what that gesture means, but still he asks his third youngest, to watch the excitement in her freckled face burst forth, “Do you want to help me, badger?”

Bobbi-jo wordlessly nods, so enthusiastic her blonde curls bob right into her face, and she takes one side of the wrapping paper, looking to him to see when she should tear it open. He counts down, only mouthing the numbers since neither of them can hear anyways, and together he and his little one tear the present open to reveal..

His little girl tilts her head, and asks, “What is it?”

“It looks like jammies..” Her little brother points out as he comes over too, prompting Billy to pull out the bundle of fabric and reveal the full shape and blue and brown pattern of the now obvious onesie. Little Tommy’s eyes light up as bright as stars as he realizes, “Jammies of Bluey’s daddy!! Daddy, that means you’re Bluey’s daddy!!”

Billy has watched the show with his little ones, and honestly, the present seems silly, but it really touches his heart. He’ll take being regarded as the sensitive, playful, hardworking and considerate dad any day. And hey, a comfortable set of pajamas isn’t something he’s about to complain about either, even if they have pointy dog ears and a tail. Nowadays, he’s too much older and happier to care about embarrassing himself.

So he makes sure to show how grateful he is, playing up the excitement like anyone does on a birthday, “Oh wow, no way! I wonder who picked this one out?”

He’s expecting it to be one of the kiddos that got it for him, but as he goes down the line, each of them shrugging or shaking their heads, he eventually runs out of kids except for the two one month olds snoring softly in their bassinets, and clearly it wasn’t them.

Soft blue eyes finally land on Steve, as he switches to the language more comfortable for them both, “Papa, was it you?”

Like they’re still crushing highschoolers, Steve nods, bashful and shy and sweet. Like they aren’t married with eleven kids.

To thank him for the gift, and for everything really, Billy drags his chair a little closer to Steve’s and gives him a kiss. It’s nothing more than a soft press of their lips together, but the kids have been watching enough movies lately that the room erupts into squeals and exclamations of disgust over the innocent show of affection.

Except Sadie. She doesn’t care about that stuff and she just giggles because all her weirdo older siblings are funny. Billy looks at Steve, and Steve looks at Billy, before the both of them burst into giggles just like their little daughter.

Slowly, the kids lose interest in the ending festivities. Joey drags Summer off first to go play a new game he thought of, the both of them stopping first to give Billy a kiss on the cheek and a final happy birthday wish. Then Chrissy and Bobbi-Jo follow the same pattern, deciding to go do some science experiment involving bugs in their fenced in backyard. That moves Billy and Steve’s conversation into another room, where they can keep an eye on their rambunctious girls through the window, just in case.

Little Carol asks if she can take Sadie to play dress up, which the younger one is very excited about, and after following the track of the rest of their siblings in giving Billy more birthday wishes, they race up the stairs to their playroom slash old nursery. Meanwhile little Joyce fell asleep in her wheelchair at the table, and, along with the also sleeping infant twins, she was brought into the sitting room with her dads to be watched over.

That leaves little Tommy and Dorothy, who quietly decide to color at the dining table their family just abandoned, each giving Steve a hug when he brought them their colored pencils and paper, and asking him to relay to their daddy that they hope his birthday is as good as he makes theirs.

In all that spontaneous chaos, Billy took the time to change into his new present. The patterns, or really color blobs, of the cartoon blue heeler on his pajamas make it look like he’s tiny, drowning in just a slightly too large size of the onesie. He decides to roll up the sleeves, pushing each up to his elbows in little bunches, and suddenly he’s looking like just Billy again, at home and comfortable and perfect.

Steve looks away from the window where he’s been watching the two in the yard for just a second to ask Billy, loud enough for him to hear on his implant side, but softly and affectionately all the same, “So did you get everything you wanted?”

Billy’s answer starts with another kiss, taking his time this time since there are no babies watching, but it’s still just a kiss, and at this point, they’re okay with that. They don’t need theatrics and grand gestures, don’t need sex every five minutes. A couple of quick pecks of the lips and a pair of kids cartoon pajamas is perfect for their love.

Still, this is a special day, Billy’s 30th birthday. He wants his thankfulness to be clear. So he looks Steve in the face, focusing on his lips instead of his eyes because he knows Steve doesn’t like eye contact too much, and declares, “Eleven kids. A happy fucking- sorry, A happy freaking family. That’s the best gift you ever could’ve given me, babe.”

Steve lays his head on his husband's shoulder, rubbing a section of the new, soft fabric of Billy’s Bandit pjs between his fingers. He hums deeply in his throat just a little, those stims signature to when he’s sleepy. Billy decides to leave him to it while he goes and checks on everybody, able to slip away without Steve feeling abandoned by giving him his hoodie that he changed out of, a fluffy pillow, and the blanket from the back of their couch.

Almost instantly his husband falls asleep on the furniture, a sign of how exhausting these long, happy, laughter-filled days can still be. It doesn’t make them any less joyful, Steve just needs rest sometimes when his social battery is so emptied.

One more kiss to his forehead, framed by his grown-out, wavy locks, and Billy exits out the back door to check on the kids out there to take over Steve’s pre-nap task.

The girls look at him and squeal because they’re both wrist deep in the dirt digging for worms, so Billy makes a motion by his ear to gently say, ‘turn the volume down.’ Then, in actual sign, explains, “Papa’s asleep.”

There’s a sense of understanding in the girls, as they look at each other and giggle, until Chrissy puts her muddy fingers in front of her face to tell her little sister to- “Shhhhhhhh”

For a moment, Billy doesn’t know what to do next. Before their first girl was born, he’d have taken this time to light up a cigarette and just revel in the cool, fresh air and the setting sun. Not long after their first ultrasound though he quit cold turkey. If he hadn’t been brought up around addiction, to alcohol, to cigarettes, to violence- whatever it was, he would never have had to turn to the same thing in his darkest moments. He felt he owed it to his babies to save them from the same issues he’d struggled so hard with.

It still feels weird to just, not have anything to do with his hands, so he just sits. He looks up at the sky, the moon is creeping up and signaling that the day is nearly over. Their little ones should really be getting to be soon. He calls out, “Five more minutes girlies.”

Instead of arguing, the two adventurous girls run up to him and sit on either side of him, shaking off their dirty hands into the bushes, as they decide to spend their last few minutes by his side. His first born has now grown up into a big eleven year old girl, and he’s thirty one. Billy puts his arms around them and just sits.

He doesn’t need a cigarette to enjoy this moment. Just his family.

When the other kids have lost interest in their own tasks, eventually all nine make their way outside. Summer and Joey climb onto the porch swing, while Tommy and Sadie, the littlest kids, climb onto Billy’s lap. Usually Sadie would always go to her Papa, but with the new babies, she understands that sometimes Steve needs more rest. Billy just feels grateful that she has warmed up to him more than she had when she was a tiny, fussy baby and only wanted Steve.

Little Carol and Dorothy push a now awake Joyce’s wheelchair outside together, bringing her in front of the swing so she can see her siblings swinging and playing with her. Once Dorothy climbs up in between the slightly older two kids, that gets Joyce giggling uncontrollably, watching her twin and her big brother and sister make silly faces as they come towards her and pull back again.

Amid the chaos, whether it was something that happened inside while the kids made their way out, or the general chatter and creaking of the swing and laughter now, something wakes Steve. Though admittedly, Billy hadn’t even noticed until he heard Briar Rose start crying, and before he could get up from under the weight of the two kids on his legs, the crying stopped.

At first he blames it on his deaf ears and almost asks one of the kids to go help, but before they can Steve steps out onto the porch where the rest of them are, Briar Rose and Aurora both cradled in each of his arms, awake again, but quiet and peaceful.

Steve looks around at the kids, still occupied in their little groups and individual interactions, but all together, and all happy. The sun is about to disappear behind the horizon line, but the light of the evening is still enough that Billy sees when Steve’s eyes brim with happy tears.

He bounces the babies softly to somewhat soothe himself out of tears and stim some of that big happy feeling out, earning two tiny, toothless smiles up at him. Billy watches the sweet infants lovingly, but he doesn’t even need to ask before Steve comes over, and sits close by and leans his back against the wall of the porch, so Billy can see his girls better without straining his neck.

Little Chrissy also wants a look at the babies, so she leans over to put her face right above her white-haired sisters and talks baby-talk at her. Steve leans his head back and looks at Billy now. The pinkish-orange sky looks beautiful reflecting back in his eyes, adding to the inviting depth already there.

Everything is at peace on this cool, vibrant night. Everything is okay.

“Happy Birthday, Billy Ocean Harrington.”

Yeah. He is pretty damn happy.

#harringroveweek #harringrove #billy hargrove #billy x steve #disabled billy hargrove #disabled steve harrington #disabled parents au again with @intothedysphoria #and this was a request for him! I’ve been working on this for a while so I’m happy I finally had the energy to finish #again I hope this au makes sense without the background lore but if it doesn’t let me know and I’ll explain #much love y’all thanks for reading and supporting me

[queenimmadolla]

CRUEL SUMMER - '85, PIII

summary: . . . the year Eddie Munson doesn’t give a fuck about not having graduated when he’s gotta save the girl so he can get the girl. (in which Eddie is in ST3 and reader is basically Heather Holloway) ┊ Eddie Munson x Flayed!Reader┊Main Masterlist - Series Masterlist - PI - PII

chapter summary . . . Eddie finally learns the circumstances surrounding your bizarre behavior and teams up with a ragtag group of kids to track you down and finally confront you. The only problem is you aren’t you because you’re suddenly committing grand theft auto and people around you are going missing.

chapter warnings: pining, billy hargrove (this fic is black reader friendly, I PROMISE), ‘unrequited’ love, angst, jealousy, mind control, nightmares, violence.

a/n: a very big thank you to my dear friend @kitmon for betaing this chapter! a literal angel ♡ and the detergent scene is inspired by this post, as I am a fan of LifeFire/Headdie/whatever the fuck eddie x heather's ship name would be and it was stupid fucking funny to imagine eddie seeing flayed heather do it. also didn't want to make Reader eat dirt.

word count: 8.4k

“No.” “What? What do you mean ‘no’?” Max demanded from her place in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van.

Eddie let out an incredulous, so-fucking-done-with-this laugh, void of any humor as he drove towards her home. They’d spent the entire car ride feeding him some utter bullshit story about weird paranormal shit going around Hawkins. Now, Eddie knew Hawkins was bizarre but he gave the credit for that to its rather conservative townsfolk. Not some preteen with mind powers and a gaggle of other kids trying to take on an alternate dimension and its monsters. He loved fantasy, so the moment they mentioned a Demogorgon, Eddie knew the whole thing was a lie. A Demogorgon was a monster that existed only within the confines of DND guidebooks and lore. Not in real life. “I mean whatever game of pretend you’re trying to play, I’m not playing.” He should have known better. Maybe they’d gotten mixed in all this when Billy had brought you over (thinking that alone caused his heart to ache) to his house and decided to have some fun with it.

“You don’t think it’s bizarre Chief Hopper suddenly has a new daughter after the death of his other one?”

“Sara.” El immediately leans forward from the back, frowning at Max’s lack of humanization for a sister she’d never get to know.

Max shot her an apologetic look before turning her attention back to Eddie who was sneering.

“You weren’t even around to see Hopper with his family, so no, I don’t think it’s bizarre! There’s a thing called adoption, you know. You adopted?” Eddie directed the question to El, glancing at her reflection in the rearview mirror.

She nodded.

“There you go!” Eddie sighed as he pulled up outside of the house they’d been directing him to, windshield wipers working aggressively to clear the constant stream of rainwater pelting down. “Look. I get it. It’s summer, you’re probably bored out of your fucking minds but what’s going on with Billy and—.”

God, he couldn’t even fucking say your name in the same sentence with him, it felt vile. Bad. What were you thinking? Why couldn’t he have just gotten to you sooner? He shouldn’t have canceled to make a few more bucks, if he hadn’t, you’d be with him. Not fucking Billy. Oh, god. No. He should have thought of another explicit word to use because his mind was racing with images that were making him sick to his stomach.

“It’s just adult stuff, okay?” He croaked out, throat thick with emotion. “It’s not whatever you think it is, you’ll understand when you get older.”

El opened her mouth to argue but Max hushed her, shaking her head as they once more exchanged a secretive look that Eddie could very much see since he had working eyeballs. 

“No,” El whispered in return as fragments of what she’d seen in her trances rushed to the forefront of her mind, the last being an image of you, soaked in an ice bath with red teary eyes as you begged her to help you. Then you’d been pulled away, dragged under by something wicked. That hadn’t been her imagination. Despite having seen you, seemingly fine in the flesh, something was amiss. Your eyes hadn’t looked the same as they did, had lacked life almost.

El directed her stare at Eddie with pleading eyes.

“You have to believe me, she needs help. She asked me herself.” 

Eddie frowned, exhausted with this whole back and forth. He’d been right freaking there and you’d asked her no such thing.

“When was this?”

“Last night. I can see things─”

Eddie groaned, yanking his door open. “Christ, I’ve had it. Out, everybody out.”

The girls scrambled out of the van and into the rain, staring up at Eddie while he pulled their bikes out from the back. “Enough! Enough with the magic powers, the lab, the visions and the monsters! This shit is not a game! If something wrong is going on with them, then I’ll find out on my own! I don’t have time for your little fables and I’m not a babysitter.”

Eddie was beyond frustrated. He’d wasted all this time with them when he could have been staking out your house to see what you were up to next. Instead, he’d foolishly trusted some 13 year olds and now he’d probably have to track you down.

He didn’t even know what the fuck he was going to do, obviously you weren’t going to talk to him now that you had your stupid ass ex-fling back and said ex-fling just wanted to rub it in his face that he’d gotten you because Eddie had been too little too fucking late, as per usual. Eddie just couldn’t let you settle for Hargrove, not after everything he’d put you through and how much you’d grown since Billy had discarded you. If you didn’t want Eddie, then that’d be fine. 

It really wouldn’t, because Eddie would be a total wreck and never forgive himself for missing out on you, let alone be able to get over you, but he’d rather experience that epic heartbreak over you choosing Patrick McKinney instead of Eddie. Or literally, anyone one other than Billy. 

Nevermind the strong sensation of danger that radiated out of the house while you’d been in it. Hell, Eddie had been reluctant to think it but the feeling also seemed to be coming from you as well as Billy. It was difficult for him to believe, he’d dubbed you Sunshine on impulse but it had immediately gained meaning as Eddie grew to know you. Regardless of how people tried to bring you down, tried to discourage you from what you wanted and where you wanted to be socially (he’d been one of those people at some point) you refused to settle, refused to give in and fall back into the crowd like your peers wanted you to. You were positive you’d shine one day. And one day, you did.  For Eddie, at least. He’d just been too stupid to see it—no. He’d seen it. He’d just always assumed you’d be there. Now, you weren’t. There had been no sort of sunshine present in your dining room. You hadn’t been you. 

“Just go home.” Eddie shooed them in the direction of the house, ready to go back to the trailer and collapse, though his brain was running a mile a minute to try and figure out what to do next.

As he’d been about to reach for his car door handle, it suddenly moved higher than his reach. And so did the door it was connected to. 

Because his fucking van was hovering a couple of feet in the fucking air.

Eddie’s mouth dropped open, eyes wide and the hairs on his body raising at the sight of the impossible.

His head whipped around to see El, hand out towards his van with blood dripping from one of her nostrils as a look of concentration morphed her docile features into something fierce.

He watched, stunned as she lowered his van, letting it go once it was just a couple of inches off the ground and it bounced on its tires. Eddie couldn’t even wince at the damage his rims were definitely feeling.

He was stupefied, gaze moving from the van to the young girls over and over again while his mouth opened and closed like a fish.

What. The. Fuck.

“Believe us, now?” Max asked, smug smirk on her face at Eddie’s astoundment. He could only nod stupidly, mouth on autopilot.

“Definitely fucked up my rims, so don’t do that again.” He whispered out, still mindfucked.

Eddie let himself fall against the side of his van, back pressed up against the wet metal as he ran a hand down his face and pushed the hair sticking there way, the rain wasn’t even a bother to him anymore.

His brain was spazzing out, sizzling like bacon as it tried to make sense of what he just witnessed. It just—It couldn’t! 

But it reminded him of the outlandish story they’d given him in the van. The government, the not so random deaths of Benny, Barb, the disappearance and reappearance of Will Byers and how Jonathan, Nancy and Steve’s weird little love triangle (used lightly, everyone could see Nancy and Jonathan would be ending up together) also was involved in the supernatural events. And The Monsters.

Eddie felt the blood drain from his face as he specifically recalled the one about Will Byers and how he’d been just about possessed by the Mindflayer, as the girls had dubbed it. A spy for its sinister intentions.

His stomach hurt.

“Okay, okay.” Eddie finally gave in, he still had no fucking clue what was going on and he really didn’t want to but there wasn’t anytime to waste trying to somehow argue his way into coming up with a reasonable explanation for all of this. It’s been obvious to him you weren’t in the most ideal of situations, despite giving him the cold shoulder, and he knew you were possibly in danger but know he knew El actually had real fucking powers and the stories they told him were true. You weren’t just in peril, you were in a life or death situation.

How he didn’t faint was unknown to him.

“What do we do?” The question escaped him in a rush as he started at Max and El, eyes wide with desperation. “We have to save her.” Max’s eyebrows furrowed as she stated the obvious and the desperation left Eddie just for a moment so he could glare at her. “I know that. How? Is it the Mindflayer?” “We didn’t kill it, just made sure it couldn’t come out,” El informed him, wiping the blood from her nose. “Look, I hate to put all of this on hold, but there’s not much we can do right now. We can recon tomorrow. Give me your phone number.” Eddie winced again, eyes darting around to make sure there was no one else around. God, why did this have to look so fucking bad? He yanked his car door open to dig around the floor of it for a piece of paper, shouting in victory when he’d found not only a receipt, but a really fucked up pen that still worked. He scribbled his phone number down and made sure to keep it snug in his palms to protect it from the rain as it was transferred to Max’s hold. “And don’t you dare think about leaving me out of any of your weird plans, I’ve seen those little looks you’ve been giving each other so I know you scheme. If it’s about her then I need to know. Deal?” “You’re not even offering us anything.” Max made a face as she shoved the receipt with his contact information into her pocket.

“Are most kids this annoying?” “Just go home and get some rest, Eddie. You look like hell,” she snorted out as she and El hurriedly guided the bikes up the driveway.  “I mean it! You better not leave me out of the loop!” He shouted after them before quickly jumping back into his van. “Go home and rest. Yeah, right.” He mumbled, fumbling momentarily with the keys before the van was sputtering to life. He yanked his seatbelt on and floored it, ring clad fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly as he made his way back to your house. No fucking way was he going home, now. Not when the love of his fucking life was possibly possessed by some cthulhu fucker. Eddie didn’t even bother turning to music for comfort, nothing but you could offer that to him and you were currently busy, apparently. When he was just a little ways down the street, he turned his headlights off and slowed his speed. He’d do a quick driveby and then circle back to park a little ways from your house, scope it out to make sure Billy wasn’t hurting you. That feeling of dread returned when he drove by and saw your home, every single light off and seemingly vacant of life. It was your wide open front door that really worried him, though. Fuck the discreet attempt. Eddie swerved into your empty driveway and jumped out of the van, slamming the door shut as he surveyed for the car he’d failed to notice the last time he was present but Billy’s Camaro was nowhere in sight.  “Sunshine?” He called out as he slowly crossed the threshold of your home, shutting the door behind him. The house didn’t seem all that scary anymore, he had a feeling neither Billy nor you were here.` When you didn’t answer him and Billy didn’t spring around the corner to attack him, he made a beeline for your room. Didn’t even bother knocking, just burst right in but like the rest of the house, your room was empty.  Eddie’s shoulders sagged as he sighed, a hand wiping down his tired face, back leaning up against your bedroom door to shut it. The day and his newfound knowledge were finally catching up to him. He was exhausted, physically, mentally and emotionally. And the stupid fucking weight on his chest wasn’t helping, Eddie was not a fan of melancholy or heartbreak, dealing with both the idea of the girl he loved being with someone else and being in mortal danger were not the obstacles he thought he’d have to face when he planned to confess his feelings.  Selfishly, he hadn’t thought he’d face any obstacles. Definitely fucking karma. Eddie should just pull himself together to go home and wait for Max and Eleven’s (he still couldn’t believe they had nicknamed her after a fucking number, the whole time he thought it was one of those preteen phases as Eddie had once tried to make himself known as The Munster. Terrible, he’s aware) call, just like he shouldn’t deal drugs. But he does. And he wasn't going home. He’s had a feeling, now that you and Billy were aware of your parents’ plans, Billy had taken you out somewhere. It was killing him to not know if you were doing something along the lines of Max and El’s memories or if you were doing something else with Billy. Were you completely out of it? Or were you aware of what you were doing? Did you really have feelings for Billy or were you being forced to stick around him? He needed answers and having to wait ‘til morning made him want to scream. So, he did. He collapsed onto your bed, body cushioned by your soft blankets and screamed into one of your pillows. He didn’t stop until it physically hurt his lungs to continue and only then did he shift around, kicking off his sneakers as he stared up at your ceiling, another thought (one he feared to even be thinking) plaguing his conscience. Could he lose you? And he didn’t mean to Billy.

People had apparently lost their lives when this Upside Down place was involved. And now you were mixed into it, would that mean you’d lose your life, too? Eddie frantically shook his head, trying to kick the thought out of it.  No. No, you did not get to die. You deserved so much more than what the world had dealt you and Eddie would move heaven and hell to make sure you got it. Whatever the fuck had a hold on you, he’d fucking rid you of it. And he was gonna tell you he loved you, too. If you didn’t love him, well then. Then, well. Yeah, he had no idea what he’d do but you’d still be alive so he could live with it. And if you did love him, then he’d spend the rest of his fucking life–your lives making sure you knew how important and loved you were. How much he loved you and wanted to make you happy. He’d do it every day. Tell you every day, if he could somehow keep from professing it multiple times a day (which he didn’t plan to). Wouldn’t be able to stop kissing you, either. GOD, how he wanted to kiss you. He’d had the urge sporadically throughout your friendship but it intensified around Christmas time last year and by the end of the school year, Eddie’s self control was hanging by a thread. He hadn’t kissed you then because he was too stupid to even think about acknowledging his feelings as well as yours. Then summer had punched him in the fucking face because all he wanted to do was kiss you stupid, hold you and just smother himself with your existence.  

Only he couldn’t. You were possessed and maybe dating your ex-whatever he was, while under the influence of something non-human (his brain hurt to make sense of it). How the fuck was he supposed to un-posses you? The only scenario he could think of was that of The Exorcist and while you hadn’t seemed yourself, your neck hadn’t been moving in ways it shouldn’t so an exorcism was probably out of the question. Eddie sighed, head nestled into your pillow before he realized it was your pillow, then he was pressing his face into again, albeit much more gentle, as he inhaled your scent, the ache in his heart immediately comforted by it. On impulse, he nuzzled further into it and for a moment, he was able to pretend it was your hair and you were with him, safe and curled into his side. Where you always should have been. He cracked an eye open with a sniffle to see one of your stuffed animals staring back at him. It was the one you’d immediately dove for, to hide, when you’d first invited him over and forgot it was still displayed on your bed. He’d teased you about it for only a moment before he’d made amends by having a one sided conversation in which he befriended it.  It was quickly pulled into his arms and Eddie was further comforted just knowing he was holding something you held and cared for. He hoped–full offense to the stuffed animal–he’d be taking its place in the future.

It was all too much for him, the tears slipped out before he could stop them. Eddie found himself muffling his sobs into your pillow. It was so unfair. So, so fucking undeserved. All you wanted was to be accepted, how could that fucking warrant all this bullshit? If Eddie could, he’d swap places with you in an instant. He’d do anything.

He cried so hard and so long, he eventually ended up tiring himself out. Eddie wasn’t even aware that he’d been slipping further away from consciousness, thoughts only focused on you, so much he even dreamed of you.

“You’re really not helping me out here, Sunshine,” Eddie commented with a smirk and a dry tone as he watched you get comfortable on his bed, stomach down and feet up in the air.

“You met her at one of your shows, Eddie. She knows you’re metal so literally every single piece of clothing you own is not only appropriate for your date, it also means you can’t go wrong. ‘Sides, you look great in all your clothes,” you said, rolling onto your back to peer up at him upside down.

“Now, you’re just flattering me.” But it had been the right thing to say, Eddie had already changed twice—eager to please—and just needed reassurance. You always made him feel better about being himself.

You were also making it harder and harder for him to deny his feelings. 

Maybe he shouldn’t anymore.

“Sunshine,” Eddie started, voice serious to even his own ears as he closed the distance between the two of you, squatting by the edge of the bed directly in front of you. You flipped over and sat up on your knees, hands clasped together in your lap with a hopeful gleam in your eyes. “I wanted to tell you something.”

“Okay, you can tell me anything,” you quirked and Eddie felt his heart squeeze, affections for you growing as each moment passed. 

He knew he could, you were always so easy to talk to. Still, something in him was scared, he didn’t want this to be another Chrissy situation. He didn’t hold anything against her, knew hurting people wasn’t in her nature but she’d still chosen Jason over him. It had stung, but he’d had you as a salve for the pain when he was finally ready to stop running from their end and stop seeking her out.

Who would he have if you got tired of him? Something about the ache he got at the mere thought of losing you told him it would hurt way more than any of his previous heartbreaks and that wasn’t something he was keen on experiencing. So, he chickened out. 

“You’re my best friend, you know that?”

“Of course, I know that. You tell me all the time,” you reminded him and Eddie just leaned forward to ruffle your hair, chuckling when you fought his hand away. He stood back up and went to grab his jacket from where he’d thrown it over one of his amps. He pointedly pretended he hadn’t seen disappointment flash over your face.

He’d make it up to you later, take you to buy a new cassette or something. God, what was he thinking? He’d almost ruined it all.

“I better get going or I’ll be late,” Eddie shrugged his jacket on, watching from the corner of his eye as you quickly pulled yourself together, pushing yourself off the bed.

It was only a little awkward as you both made your way out of the trailer. You walked over to retrieve your bike from where you always left it when you came over, unchained. No one really took stuff that didn’t belong to them around here.

Except for Eddie. 

“Well, I hope you have fun, Eddie. Just don’t trash her music taste if it differs from yours in the slightest like you always do and you’ll definitely get a second date.”

“What about you? Doing anything fun?”

“Oh, yeah. Babysitting some of the neighborhood kids. I think you and Lucas would get along. He’s a huge nerd, too.” You shot him a smirk over your shoulder as you walked your bike away, always too embarrassed to hobble onto it in front of him.

Eddie stood by the door of the van, the handle loosely in his grasp as he watched your retreating figure and felt the familiar feeling of longing settle into his belly. 

Fuck this.

“HEY!” He called out to you, already jogging the distance as you stopped to look back, eyes wide as you noticed the sudden change in him.

“What?”

“The thing is,” Eddie started, lips pursed as he debated over what he was about to confess. It would change everything and Eddie didn’t take to change very well. It was precisely why he’d ignored your feelings and his, hoping they’d simply go away, vanish into thin air someday. 

He didn’t want them to go away anymore. He wasn’t afraid of change. Because the change that would come to your relationship was the good kind. The kind that would allow him to hold your hand, kiss you, be close to you without feeling like he was pushing a boundary. 

“Are you okay?”

Eddie snapped out of it, focusing on your expression again. You looked concerned, of course you were worried about him. You were one of the few people who cared for him. 

He reached out, gently taking your soft hand in his, thumb stroking over your knuckles.

“The thing is . . . I love you. I love you, so much and I’ve been too chicken shit to say anything because you’re also my best fucking friend, Sunshine. I didn’t want to lose that. But if I didn’t say anything, I’d be losing the chance for more. I want everything with you, I want to be your boyfriend,” he confessed, giving your hand a squeeze as he watched you with bated breath.

You stared down at your hands for a moment.

Then you laughed.

You laughed cold and cruel and hard, before yanking your hand out of his grasp. 

“You think I’d want you? After all this time?”

The pain in his chest was immediate, he could feel the blood drain from his face. Then Billy Hargrove walked around the corner of a neighboring trailer, hands in his pockets with the most smug of smirks on his stupid fucking face. The fuck was he doing here?

“Why the hell would she want you, Freakazoid? She’s my girl, always has been.” Eddie watched as he walked right up to you, slipping an arm around your shoulders as you leaned into his embrace like you were used to it, your own arms slipping around his waist. Eddie felt physically ill.

He could also feel his heart cracking, chipping and shattering into millions of pieces as he stared hopelessly at you and Billy. It got worse.

Billy leaned down, mouth devouring yours in a messy kiss that you returned with fervor and Eddie felt like he was dying, could feel the hot tears of anger, heartache, frustration and betrayal—he didn’t really have a right to feel—already running down his cheeks.

He wiped furiously at them but they just kept coming. When you and BIlly finally pulled away, it was only to laugh at him.

Then it wasn’t just you and Billy. Suddenly, he was in the cafeteria of the high school, and everyone was crowded around, laughing at him, having an absolute fit of a good time at his expense. 

Eddie couldn’t breathe, wet gaze and red eyes darting around to take in all the cruel faces around him before landing on yours again, begging with them. 

This time, there was no cruelty on your face. It was void of any emotion before you turned your back to him and made your way into the crowd solo, Billy was no longer present. 

Eddie made a desperate attempt to follow you, trying to force and bully his way through the crowd, watching the back of your head disappear into it as he screamed your name, begging you to come back to him as the crowd got louder and rowdier. You were gone. He was left alone.

Eddie’s eyes snapped open as he gasped for breaths and jolted up, chest heaving and filled with momentary panic before he realized he’d experienced a nightmare. Or something close to it.

It wasn’t real. Thank fucking hell.

The nightmare had started off as a memory. You had been at his trailer, hanging out with him before one of his dates but he hadn’t stopped you when you left on your bike. Eddie had only watched you. Then he got in his van and went to pick up the girl he had asked out. 

He fell back into soft pillows, relaxing for just a moment before he realized the pillows were too soft and fluffy to be his, as was the mattress under his body. A quick look around his surroundings reminded him he was in your bedroom. 

He was also reminded of the horrifying circumstances regarding why he was in your bedroom and you weren’t.

Shit.

Reluctantly, Eddie got out of your bed, quickly gathering his things. Max would probably call soon and he had to be at the trailer to answer. He practically ran down your stairs, stopped, ran back up them to snag the stuffed animal he’d cuddled the night before. He’d need a little bit of you to keep him sane.

As he locked and closed your front door behind him, he just so happened to glance at your next door neighbor’s house, head doing a double take when he noticed their front door was also open.

Eddie did a quick glance around before he made his way over to investigate, brows furrowing when he noticed the door jam was broken. 

“Hello?” He called out, pushing the door open further. The entrance was a wreck, a small table with flowers had been knocked over along with a coat rack, which had a large section of it broken off. The broken piece was only a little ways away. The home had obviously been broken into and some sort of struggle had taken place.

Eddie had a feeling both you and Billy had been involved. Just as he turned to leave, a picture had been knocked to the floor caught his eye.

Of fucking course your neighbor had to be the goddamn Mayor.

He ran back to his van in record time, quickly peeling out of the area as he weighed his options. He couldn’t call the cops, not only because he was probably still on their radar, there was no way they wouldn’t try to blame him for it. Then, he’d get locked up and saving you wouldn’t be impossible from behind bars.

Besides, they were pretty much useless. He’d have to tell Red and El.

Eddie made it into his trailer just in time to answer the phone before it could finish its first ring. He nearly broke his ankles flinging himself at it, wincing as his shoulder collided roughly with the wall.

“‘Lo?” He croaked out, mouthing ‘ow’ as he rubbed the sore spot.

“It’s me.”

Red—Max, whatever.

“What’s up?” He demanded, shoulder pain immediately forgotten.

“Your girlfriend, you know her schedule right?”

“She’s not my—yeah. Yeah, I know her schedule. Why?” It didn’t matter all that much to correct her, right?

“Does she work today?”

“No. WAIT. Yes, she’s covering for her co-worker Heather. I don’t know what shift, though,” If you bothered showing up this time, anyways. “Why?” 

“Meet us at the pool then.”

“WHY?” Eddie demanded again, wincing once more when he remembered Wayne should be asleep on his bed. A quick glance into the living room confirmed his old man was still asleep. Thank god that man could sleep through the apocalypse.

“Why?” Eddie muttered into the receiver, voice much lower this time.

“We’re gonna see if she’s a spy.” 

“Were you not in the same house as me, yesterday? I wouldn’t call that atmosphere pleasant.”

“I wouldn’t call any atmosphere Billy is in ‘pleasant’.”

“Alright, you got me there. But I went over again and—hello?” Eddie was met with the sound of the dial tone. He rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath as he placed the phone back on the receiver. Kids were such assholes.

He took a quick shower, probably less than five minutes, and freshened up just so he wouldn’t smell in case he ended up in close quarters with you.

When he got to the pool, he was momentarily concerned he wouldn’t be able to find them. Then he caught sight of Red and El, crouched in the parking lot in front of a nearby car. They weren’t alone.

“Oh great, you brought the rest of the little rascals,” Eddie sighed as he walked over.

“Shut up.”

“I’m Lucas.”

“Will.” Eddie had seen him on a couple of ‘Missing’ flyers, had been handed one when Jonathan was passing them around during all of his breaks and lunch.

“Mike.” He was prompted when El shoved her elbow into his rib.

“Eddie,” He introduced himself, giving them all a nod before his attention was on Red. “What are we doing here?”

“I already told you,” Max sighed, ready to elaborate once more.

“Yes, I know that. I mean why are we hiding in the parking lot?”

“Plotting,” Max stated, glancing back at where Billy lounged on the lifeguard tower. Eddie followed her stare and frowned. If Billy was on duty, then they’d most likely missed you.

You appeared on the other side of Billy, still clad in your swimsuit with a towel over your arm as you conversed.

Eddie perked up immediately and so did the sense of longing in his belly. 

“What were you saying?” Lucas asked Will, referring to whatever it was they were talking about before Eddie interrupted with his arrival. 

Eddie didn’t take his eyes off you, too afraid you’d disappear like you did in his dream but he was listening intently to the conversation.

“The Mind Flayer liked to hide. He only used me when he needed me.” There was that unsettling feeling again. Eddie did not like that, not one bit. “It’s like you’re a doormat. And then, when he needs you, you’re activated.”

You didn’t look like you could harm a fly, sunglasses over your face as you appeared to argue with Billy, who didn’t so much as look down at you, gesturing to a kid in the water he’d most likely called a name.

You told him Billy did that a lot and it bothered you significantly.

“Okay, so we just wait until they get activated,” Max decided.

“No,” Mike shook his head, “What if they hurt someone?”

“Or kill someone.” Lucas added.

“They already broke into the Mayor’s house,” Eddie informed them, grimly. He was trying to wrap his head around the idea of the cute lifeguard, who held his heart in the soft palms of her hands, breaking into a home and abducting someone.

“What?!”

“I went by again yesterday.” Eddie threw Max a glare as he recalled what he had attempted to tell her over the phone before she hung up on him. “And when I left this morning—don’t ask—I noticed her neighbor’s door looked kicked in. The inside was wrecked and a lovely little photo of that asshole and his wife was on the ground.”

“That’s not the Mayor’s house,” Lucas corrected him, “It’s his mistress’ house. The Mayor lives in some fancy schmancy part of town with his wife but he’s been seeing my mom’s hair stylist and that’s where she lives. I hear my mom talking about it to her friends all the time.”

“Then they got a rude interruption last night.”

“We’re not taking any more chances,” Mike declared. “We need to find out if they’re hosts to it.”

Mike, Lucas and Will ran to the boys locker rooms to check something but Eddie couldn’t be bothered to go with them, choosing to wait with Max and El so he could keep an eye on you. The boys came back within minutes and had developed a plan to capture Billy. Which just left you.

Mike had come up with the idea to lock you in the sauna with Billy but Eddie vehemently rejected the idea. He was not about to lock you anywhere with Billy, especially since he was a little more reassured of your dislike of him. While you two had been playing house the evening before, it looked like you were back to being annoyed with him today. What the hell was up with that?

Eddie noticed you walking away and stiffend. Was The Mindflayer calling you away?

“She’s leaving,” he pointed out, a desperate edge to his voice.

“Oh, shit. We can’t let her out of our sight!” 

“I won’t,” Eddie stated as they crouched low to hide behind the car when you came out. He’d been expecting you to walk over to the bike racks but you made your way to the parking lot instead, hopping into the first car you saw. You dipped a little below the steering wheel before the car came to life and you drove out of the parking lot.

“Should we follow her car?”

“She doesn’t have a car,” was all Eddie stated before he bolted over to the van. Before he could peel out after you, Lucas’s face popped into view of the window and Eddie hastily lowered it in time for the preteen to shove a giant fucking walkie talkie through it. 

“Use this to keep in contact and be careful!”

“Thanks, kid.”

Eddie didn’t wait any longer, speeding out of the parking lot to make sure he didn’t lose you. 

His heart was racing, palms sweaty and gripping the steering wheel as he followed the car you stole. When you pulled into the grocery store, he parked further from you, just to make sure you weren’t on to him.

You got out of the car and Eddie realized you were still in your red swimsuit and white sneakers, with no bag or car keys. You glanced around you and Eddie quickly ducked down into the seat cursing as he waited a few moments before peaking over at your retreating figure. There was no telling whether you saw him or not, you were still wearing your sunglasses but if you had seen him, his presence didn’t bother you enough to stop you.

Eddie pulled out the TRC, fumbling with it until he managed to get it operating, “Eddie to Little Rascals. Come in, Little Rascals.”

There was nothing for a few moments, then static.

“Eddie?” It was Lucas.

“Yeah, it’s me. I followed her to Bradley’s Big Buy.”

“What’s she doing there?”

“Buying groceries? I don’t know! But I’m gonna find out. I’ll check in soon.” Eddie didn’t bother asking how their plan with Billy was going, they couldn’t exactly trap him in broad daylight with witnesses, nor did he even care about what happened to the mondo-douche. Not after he got you involved in this fucked up mess.

He did his best to maintain a sense of casualty when he got into the store, giving a forced smile to some lady who was staring at him for obvious reasons: his attire and general appearance. “Hey, how you doin’?”

Eddie speedwalked, checking each aisle for you. He almost feared he’d lost you, maybe you’d already left the store, until he reached the laundry detergent aisle.

There you were and for a moment, he forgot about the current situation, eyes raking over your figure with deep appreciation. Wow. Just—wow.

Then you grabbed a detergent off the shelf, uncapped it and began chugging the liquid down, effectively snapping him out of his horny thoughts.

Eddie could only stare, eyes wide and mouth open, dumbfounded. 

You lowered the nearly empty jug, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand before you noticed his presence, turning your head to him.

“Hi, Eddie.” You greeted him as though nothing was wrong, like you didn’t just down an entire jug of chemicals.

“Uh, hey, Sunshine.” Was all he could force out because he didn’t know if he was interacting with you or The Mindflayer. Did it even allow you to be you? Fuck, it was confusing. Did he mention how fucked up this whole thing was?

“I’d go with the lemon scented, lavender’s pretty shit.” Then you capped the jug and put it back on the shelf before walking off. Eddie took a few moments to regain his composure, trying not to have a panic attack about what drinking that shit could do to you before he was stumbling after you but he was too late.

You weren’t in the store anymore and Eddie cursed as he made a break for the front doors, running out of them just as the car you were in—an entirely new one from the one you stole at the pool—screeched by.

FUCK.

“FUCK!” Eddie gripped the roots of his hair in frustration, paying no mind to the weird looks he was getting.

You’d gotten out of there fast, there was no way you weren’t on to him following you around now. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He ran back to the van, yanking the door open and rooting around until he pulled up the walkie talkie.

“Preteens, we have a problem. I repeat, we have a colossal problem.”

This time it was Max who responded, “What is it, Eddie?”

“She knows.”

Eddie heard a bunch of them trying to talk as Max held down the button before she told them to be quiet, “What does she know? What happened?”

“I was following her inside and I caught—well, I mean it was out in the open but not a whole lot of people were around—anyways, I caught her drinking laundry detergent and I was so damn shocked, she had time to make it out. She must have been bolting in the parking lot because by the time I made it out behind her, she was already driving off!” Eddie rambled, still shook up by the whole ordeal.

“She was drinking detergent?”

“Messed up, right? She took off in a different car this time and I don’t know how she’s doing it unless The Mindflayer gives his little puppets a crash course on hotwiring.” But even that took a few moments, you’d gotten out of there way too quick if that was the case.

“You have to find her, Eddie!”

“I know, I know. I’m gonna search around town. Be careful on your end.” The TRC was tossed onto the passenger seat as Eddie started up the van. 

He drove through the streets of Hawkins looking for any sign of you and while he didn’t find you, he found elements of your presence in the form of a few homes which looked broken into. He wasn’t entirely sure if you’d done it since Bradley’s or if they had been homes you and Billy had hit the night prior.

You made your way through the crowded mall, easily weaving between bodies as you approached the girls hanging out by the fountain. You’d since changed your lifeguard attire, He needed you to blend in for the next part of his plan.

“Well, well. Look who’s out of the house,” Beverly commented, hot pink lips pursed into an ignorant smirk. The rest of her lackeys giggled as if she said something remotely insulting.

“Thank you for stating the obvious, Beverly. I am—indeed—at the fucking mall and not my house,” you stated, face void of any amusement. Fix it, He commanded and your face broke out into a smile just as Beverley’s contorted in shock at your brazen reply.

“Anywho, girls, Billy sent me.” You waited for them to show signs of interest, He was pleased when they did; sitting up straighter, leaning forward to hear what you had to say. “He’s throwing a warehouse party tonight. Interested?”

Eddie was camped out in front of your house, sunk just low enough in the seat to see over the edge of the dashboard as he waited for you to come home. He had no luck perusing the town, so his best bet was to wait for you to come to him.

The stuffed animal was clutched to his chest again, mind entirely filled with nothing but thoughts and concern about you when you finally pulled up to your home in another car, having ditched the other.

He knew it probably wasn’t wise, but he needed to confront you, he had to find out what was going on with you.

The moment you were out of your car, Eddie was out of the van and calling out to you.

You stopped in your tracks, staring at him with a bleak expression, “Yes?”

He had no idea what to fucking say, so he went with, “Where have you been?”

“Around.”

His eyes squeezed shut for a moment, ache in his chest only growing, “Sweetheart, please. Please talk to me. What’s going on? You’re avoiding me, hanging around Billy again and not acting like yourself. Did I do something? If I did, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Eddie saw you fidget, brows furrowing as something akin to sadness appeared to pass over you.

“You didn’t do anything, Eddie,” He let you tell him. “Go away.”

You turned to walk up your driveway but Eddie was desperate, he reached forward to grasp your wrist and you whirled around, expression dark as your body tensed.

“I said. . . Go. Away.” It was hissed out between your clenched teeth with so much venom, Eddie almost backed down. Almost. The impending doom feeling returned, filling the warm night air with dread.

He clenched his jaw, preparing for you to attack him at that point but he’d take whatever you gave him. He could handle it, even if he had to wrestle you into submission. 

“No.”

Just as it looked like you were about to make a move, something odd happened.

You froze, eyes looking both at him and beyond him. The skin of your wrist under Eddie’s palm began to move in a way that was not at all normal or even remotely human. He stared in horror as your veins appeared to bulge and crawl up your arm, following them up to your face where the veins around your eye sockets—not normally seen to the human eye—were very apparent, bulging and dark. 

Your eyes were nearly pitch black.

With ease, you flung the arm Eddie had a hold of, sending him flying in the air before crashing onto the lawn on the other side of the street. 

He gasped, trying to get the air that had escaped his lungs on impact to return to him and was still gasping when he managed to roll onto his side, eyes darting around until they caught sight of you running towards a telephone poll with an electricity distribution box on it.  

Eddie watched, chest heaving as you tore the cover off, before flinging it at an alarming speed towards the telephone wires, one of the jagged ends catching along and snapping a wire from its place as its sparks rained down around you.

It was only then Eddie noticed the puddle of water, left over from last night’s storm, you stood in.

“NO!” He managed to yell, voice hoarse as he tried to warn you, gritting his teeth while he pushed his sore body up from the ground. He watched the wire dance around the street, sparks flying from the end. 

He’d just managed to get to his feet, ignoring the pain in his sides as he ran towards you.

Before Eddie could reach you, the wire end dipped into the puddle and he was sure his heart stopped.

Only, you weren’t electrocuted as you should have been. You weren’t affected at all.

Eddie’s running slowed to a stop as you reached down, grabbed the thick wire and raised it to your mouth.

“No fucking way.” He whispered into the air, mouth dry.

You bit into it and Eddie swore he saw your body illuminate, literally glow from within like a finger would if held against the lens of a flashlight, before the lights of the homes around him flickered, as did the street lights. Suddenly, telephone pole glass insulators burst on every pole as far as his eyes could see and the bulbs of every street light shattered. The homes went black, leaving your street and probably the next couple of blocks swallowed in darkness. 

Eddie could barely make out your figure fleeing under the cover of a total blackout, sprinting further and further away until he could no longer see you at all.

He stood in the middle of the street for quite some time before he painstakingly made his way back to the van.

The drive back to the community pool was filled with silence, his headlights the only source of light.

When Eddie pulled up to the pool it was obvious the area had been affected by the power outage but not too bad, a couple of lights flickering and the ones that weren’t were dim. The kids were all seated on the sidewalk, looking as defeated as he felt.

“We lost Billy. He’s flayed,” Max stated, sounding disheartened as Eddie sat next to her, grimacing at the shock of pain flaring through his side.

“So is she.” Saying it out loud made his eyes burn with the sting of tears, fists clenched as they rested over his knees. It was one thing to fear you were possibly under the control of that thing, he felt a whole new sense of terror knowing, without a doubt, you were. 

He explained what had happened on his end, how you possessed almost superhuman strength and managed to drain a large region of the town of its electricity, which also explained how you were easily able to start all those cars you’d stolen. The kids deflated further as they realized exactly what they were up against this time around. 

“What are you going to do, now?” Max asked quietly, fully expecting him to run for the hills. It’s what any sane person would do. 

Max didn’t know Eddie wasn’t sane. And if it hadn’t been you in this situation, he would have run, wouldn’t have even been mixed into this whack ass situation.

But it was you and Eddie was done running from you. It was high time he ran towards you.

“I’m gonna save her. Or—y’know, die trying, I guess.”

“The girl,” you asked, grabbing the rag at your side. “Was it her?”

“Yeah. It was her. She knows now. She knows about me.” Before you could press it to the cut actively bleeding on Billy’s forehead, his hand darted out to grip your arm. “Will Munson be a problem?”

“No,” Brief flashes of warm, pretty brown kind eyes, a smirk, a wide grin, and brown curls managed to slip past His control before they were snuffed out, the ashes left to sink into the the grips of the Upside Down, along with your freewill.

Billy’s grip on your arm loosened and despite his bruising hold, there were no marks left behind on your skin. You were one in the same.

“She could have killed me,” he continued, and you felt what he feared. The failure of your plan. Of His plan.

“Yes.” Billy would be no match for the girl with superhuman abilities. Even with the gift He bestowed you, you may be no match for her. “But not us.”

You turned your head, both you and Billy taking in the sight of your growing numbers, various members of the community now a part of your legion, a part of Him. Soon, you would all join Him as one.

“Not us.”

And He watched you, from the eyes of the creature left behind in the world he’d been cast out of. 

In his domain, the realm of the Upside Down, the being, the nightmare who would soon be known began his preparations.

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