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#i don't like billy at that point but that line gets me.
crepuscularqueens · 2 years
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you would not believe how many black sails thoughts are just running in circles around my little brain. like. give it a fucking rest.
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dmclemblems · 2 years
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man, imagine just... letting people have their own opinions of gw and not making fun of people who did or didn’t enjoy it.
people in this fandom are so aggressive.
you can talk about your opinions and even hate or love as strongly as the human heart allows! just... don’t say things like “people are stupid for thinking xyz”. you do realize you may have mutuals or even friends following you that see that and are now apprehensive to talk to you, especially about this game, right? that you might be offending your own friends and acquaintances with insulting terminology and you don’t know a friend feels that way because they’re too anxious to even tell you now because you’ve made it clear that you think everyone with xyz opinion is some insulting and hurting term?
it’s one thing to say things like “this is the best/worst route between both games and I love/hate it more than anything”. it’s another to say something like “everyone who loves/hates gw is an absolute retard who didn’t understand claude’s character in houses in the first place if they loved/hated gw”.
no, I’m not quoting anyone specifically, but I’m trying to iterate to you an example of the sorts of things I’m seeing people saying as if under the assumption that every single person in their space agrees with them and that they’re not risking hurting someone with their words.
yeah, you can hate the route or love the route with every fiber of your being. I’m just personally not sure that’s worth being hateful toward every single other human being who has the opposite opinion as you, or worth making people apprehensive about checking their social media every day because they follow people who are very likely to insult entire groups of people based on their likes/dislike in a fictional universe.
like, yeah, I didn’t enjoy the second half of gw... but you know what’s cool? I’m still close friends with someone who liked it and feels the opposite way that I do about the writing and about claude.
#it sucks too bc I have mutuals on Twitter who will NOT stop talking about it#and going out of their way to point out every instance of their opinion while like#degrading the people who don't agree#at that point like mind your own business and talk about things that are fun??? stop getting mad at people for their opinions???#it's really easy to go find something you enjoy on the damn internet it's like the easiest way ever lol#even when I just check regular tags for characters nowadays it's the same arguments#half or more of the content isn't the characters or fanart or anything like that anymore#it's just people arguing about stupid shit like okay we get it you do or don't like the writing in it#it doesn't mean you have to go out of your way to make other people feel bad about their opinion#it's one thing to discuss with people in your space (depending on which social media you use etc)#but to go out of your way or to outright insult people with the opposite opinion just makes you look like you're trying to start fights#when this game came out I wanted to remember it by being Billy's final work for his job and he did so so so good#and now it's hard to look at this game and think of it that way because I keep thinking of all the drama#it's still hard to listen to Ferdinand's lines and some more than others bc I was in Billy's streams a lot#so when I hear those things I tend to picture his face and it's still difficult for me. I still can't wrap my head around him being gone#and for two months at that now. I want to look at this game and think of the work he did and you know? if you don't that's fine#but it's hard for me to see it that way now when I just can't log on to ANYTHING on ANY day and see ANYTHING but arguing or like#people straight up insulting others and using offensive terms about people who didn't like something#like cool you loved/hated gw. wanna explain why you're tagging your hate for other people to see? would love to hear THAT explanation#it's kinda like how on Twitter I've had to block an obscene amount of people in the dmcl tags#bc they post the ship name i.e. a keyword in searches that will come up when fans look for content#and it's a bunch of offensive shit about the entire fanbase and how we're all disgusting people with shit opinions#and who don't enjoy the ship for actual context but apparently bc we just want to see two guys bang#imagine lumping an entire fandom of anything (ship character series etc) into an insulting and offensive box just bc YOU don't like it#or you had ONE bad experience with a fan of it so now you post hate in their search keywords instead of censoring it#so that it doesn't come up in someone's searches#literally how are you going to be prejudice about an entire group of shippers or character fans full of ppl you don't even KNOW?#and instead of talking to some of them to understand their reasoning you just post offensive shit in their searches/tags#this is the kind of shit I'm seeing with Hopes too which is why I'm mentioning it here
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The Fight || Billy The Kid x reader
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Summary: Billy involves himself in a physical fight over you.
Warnings: violence, swearing, blood
Wc: 1,347
A/n: uh- this is my very first time writing a Billy fic so pls bear w me (especially w how they talk and stuff) bc in the the series I don’t really find Billy talking like how ppl write abt him (absolutely not hate whatsoever to those who do, I absolutely love ur fics find you all so talented 😭) so I’ll try my best to be as accurate as I can. Do let me know if I make a mistake so I can improve :)
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Divider by @pommecita
"I'd fuck her any day if she wasn't whoring herself for him," Ollinger slurs, throwing his head back to let the contents of the bottle run down his throat as the men around him laugh. Billy's head pikes up at the sound. Typical Ollinger, talking about some woman as if she was an object.
Billy watches from the other side of the room as he continues to talk to them, his voice becoming louder by the second. "hot for a fucking gringo, and that's saying something," He shakes his head his eyes half close by how wasted he was.
"Wonder how Billy would feel if I had her, don't think he's too keen on sharin?" He nudges the guy beside him before bursting out laughing. Hearing this, he realises that Ollinger was talking about you. Calling you a whore.
He slammed the bottle in his hand down on the table making a loud noise. Pat Garrett and Jessie slightly flinch before they look up at Billy who was already standing, fuming.
"What's goin' on?" Pat asks, his eyes trying to follow Billy's line of gaze. Billy doesn't answer, instead, he storms over to where Bob Ollinger was and his friends. They were all laughing until one of the guys ushered everyone and tapped Ollinger to face Billy.
He slowly turned around, seemingly not bothered by Billy's presence or the fact that he towered over him. "Have something to say 'bout my girl Ollinger? Hm?" He stands his ground, taking another swig of his alcohol as he maintains eye contact with Billy. Everyone in the room had quietened down, eyes trained on the two who never got along.
"Maybe. Wanna hear what I gotta say Billy?" He smirks as Pat Garret and Jessie had already stood up from where they were. Billy narrows his eyes at the man. "I think she's a pretty little gringa you got there, but she needs a real man, not some kid like you-" "You're fucking pathetic, y'know that?" Billy spat, venom laced in his words.
Ollinger seemed to have sobered up when he said that. He looked at Billy with pure rage. "What’d you call me, boy." His blood was boiling at this point. "I said." Billy steps closer, "You're fucking pathetic." He threw a punch at his jaw as Ollinger falls back from the impact and his lack of balance.
At this point the room was cheering the two on as they throw punches at each other. Ollinger swings at Billy but misses, he was glad he wasn't drinking as much that night. He then lunges and aims towards Billy's stomach, knocking him onto the table as all its contents fell on the floor. "C'mon Billy get up!" Garrett pushes him back up.
Billy had a busted lip and a cut on his eyebrow as a trail of blood fell down the side of his face. However, it was nothing compared to the damage he did on Ollinger. "Call a whore one more time, I dare you," Billy yelled, throwing punch after punch as he was on top of him. "Billy! Billy stop!" Billy heard your familiar voice but didn't stop. All he could see was red.
From the moment you stepped foot out of your carriage that dropped you off in front of the pub, you knew a brawl of some sort was going on inside by the way you could hear cheers and the noise of furniture being knocked over.
You hurriedly walk in. You couldn't see what was going on over the tall people who stood in front of you. Weaving your way through the crowd to try and see what the commotion was about, you bumped into Jessie. "Woah there-" "Jessie, what's going on? Where's Billy?" You quickly ask him before your eyes fall onto him.
He was on top of Ollinger, throwing punch after punch. Your eyes widen in horror as you try to go to him but was held back by Jessie who had an arm around your shoulder. "Let me go! I need to stop him Jessie!" You struggle against his iron like grip. "Can't have you get involved in fight, sweetheart. Can’t let you goin' home with a scratch on your pretty face now can I?"
He says against the side of your face as you squirm, helplessly watching the fight. There was blood everywhere and you feared that Billy had killed Ollinger. "Jessie!" You thrash in his grip before he gives Garrett a look who nods and quickly breaks up the fight.
"That's enough, Billy. You got what you wanted," Pat and few other guys pulled Billy back who was breathing heavily, blood covered his shirt and hands. Billy spits on the ground. "All right, show's over!" Jessie yells as people start leaving. Ollinger gets pulled up by a few others as he's dragged away, his body limp.
"Don't you fucking go near her! You hear me Ollinger?" Billy yells before he spits more blood out. "Enough, Billy!" You exasperated, kneeling beside him to take his face in your hands, inspecting it.
Thank god there wasn’t much damage, only a busted lip and a cut on his eyebrow. “For god’s sake Billy! What happened now?” You search his eyes as he stares back at you, blankly. You catch Pat and Jessie looking at you before their eyes find the floor rather interesting. You stand up, dress already spotted in crimson as you brush the loose strands of your hair behind your ears, “What happened here?”
~
You made a beeline to your bathroom. Billy closed the door behind him and sat on the edge of her bed, he let out a groan before falling back onto the soft mattress. He starts to sit up when he hears you walk back in, a first aid kit in your hands.
You hadn't spoken a word to him since the two of you left the pub and came back to your house. You were grateful that your parents were away for the week, they would have thrown a fit if they saw you covered in blood and Billy batted up.
Moving to stand in between his legs, Billy lifts his hands up to rest on your hips but you slap his hands away. "Darlin'-" "I don't want to hear it Billy," You say, annoyance dripping from you voice as he hisses at the contact of disinfectant on his cut.
Billy lets out a sigh, his eyes trained on your angel like face as you attend to his face. "I'm sorry, I really am-" "Five times. Five times you've gotten into a fight because of me." You scoff, tilting his head firmly as you go over his eyebrow.
"You told me you would stop Billy. I can't keep playing nurse with you because you can't bite your tongue," You make eye contact with him. "You expect me to just sit around and do nothing when some guy is calling you my whore?" Billy's voice gets louder as he furrows his eyebrows at you.
You gulp, eyes looking everywhere but him. "Look at me!" He grips your chin with his thumb and index finger, "You've known me long enough to know I ain't that type of guy," He spoke, his eyes darkening.
"And you've known me long enough to know that I can handle whatever they call me. I don't need you getting into a fight every time someone foul mouths me," Your eyes begin to water. You hated seeing Billy like this. You hated how most of his fights revolved around the topic of you.
"They're all worth it, doll. You're worth it." Billy wipes away the singular tear that managed to escape. You sniffle lightly before he pulls you onto his lap, your arms securing themselves around his neck as he strokes your hair.
"Try not to get into another fight because of me," You mutter, your fingers drawing random shapes on his back as you hear him chuckle, "Can't keep any promises, darlin'" He kisses your hair as the two of you hold each other.
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thefatedthoughtofyou · 2 months
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{ soooo.... @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe reblogged ONE werewolf post and mentioned steddie in the tags and then... this... happened. It was all spur of the moment with no planning so if you see mistakes and/or plot holes... no you don't. 😬💖 }
Warnings: Billy Hargrove, blood, wound tending, violence, if it needs anymore let me know. ✌🏻
🍒🍒🍒
"I'm completely serious." Eddie says, feet kicked up on.... someone's coffee table. He doesn't remember who's party it is. Jeff nods agreeably next to him, sinking further into the couch.
"No. You've gotta be fucking joking. That would not-" Gareth tries to argue. Eddie cuts him off immediately.
"No seriously. I need a werewolf to take one look at me and go 'I'll have that.' Then claim me as their mate and never let me go." Eddie sighs, the hellfire boys erupting in chaos around him.
Normally, Eddie would join in, cause a ruckus. But he'd frozen after he'd spoken. His eyes glued to one Steve Harrington. Who had been taking a drink and promptly choked on said drink, his eyes wide when they landed on Eddie, beer or some other liquid dribbling down his chin as his cheeks flushed.
He was all the way in the kitchen, his friend Robin chattering away next to him, now wiping at his face. There's no way he could have heard Eddie. Not over the music, and the house full of shouting drunken teenagers.
Eddie watches as he finally tears his eyes away. He watches Steve grab Robin's wrist and yank her out of sight. If Eddie's lip reading was as good as it used to be, he'd said something along the lines of: "Robin. We need to go. Now."
But that didn't make any sense. Eddie was just joking. And Steve was all the way in the other room. Eddie sunk down into the couch, ignoring the way his stomach turned when he heard the front door open and close. There was no fucking way he heard him.
No fucking way.
Unless.
~°~
"Steve Harrington. Is not a werewolf. What the fuck are you even saying?" Gareth was nearly yelling now. They'd been having this conversation for almost an hour and it seemed he was at his wits end.
"Yes he is Gare! Yes he is! I would swear on it." Eddie shouts back, pointing at his friend from his position on the floor, his feet up on the couch next to Jeff. His toes wiggling under his arm every now and again to get warm.
"Swear on what!?" Gareth shrieked, his hands flailing into the air next to his head.
"Werewolves aren't real!" His voice is so squeaky now the neighbors dog has started barking.
"Jeff. Eric. You guys really not gonna help me with this?" He begs, holding his hands out to them, pleading.
"I mean..." Eric drawls, scratching at his ear.
"What?" Gareth asks, eyes narrowed.
"Maybe they are.... There was that thing with Chrissy." Eric says, his voice lilting as he looks in Jeff's direction.
"No. No no no no. We are not talking about that again either. Jeff did not see Chrissy Cunningham drinking blood." Gareth huffs, so frustrated now his face is turning red.
"I know what I saw." Jeff says with a shrug, his hand moving to Eddie's calf and rubbing it rapidly, trying to warm his cold leg for him. Eddie smiled at him and then looked back up at Gareth from the floor.
"He knows what he saw Gare. Chrissy is a fucking vampire. And Steve. Steve Harrington is a fucking werewolf. Possibly. The love of my life. Though that may be a tad unlikely. Given that he almost definitely doesn't like boys." Eddie pouts, and then startles when Gareth stomps over to look straight down at him.
"Oh is it? Is it unlikely because he doesn't like boys? Not because there's no such thing as FUCKING WEREWOLVES!?" Gareth full on yells it. His hands fisting in his hair.
"Gareth Eugene!" His mothers voice calls down the stairs.
"Sorry mom!" He yells back, turns on Jeff and Eddie when the laugh.
"It's not fucking funny. This is ridiculous. You're all ridiculous. It's not real. Fuck you guys." He hisses, keeping his voice low. Jeff and Eddie look at each other, then to Eric, all of them smile and shout,
"Gareth Eugene!" In unison. Gareth screams at them, tosses a few empty chip bags at them and throws himself into the emtpy chair next to Eric.
"You all sound, insane. You know that right?" He asks, sounding calm, and genuine again. Eddie shrugs, Eric laughs.
"Maybe you just need to open your mind?" Jeff suggests, brushing chip crumbs from his shirt.
"Open my mind? To vampires and werewolves?" He asks, arms crossed over his chest with a huff.
"Yes. Because if they exist. And mine and Jeff's crushes are one of each. Ugh. Shit." Eddie curses, his shoulder bumping the small table as he rights himself, slides his legs off the couch and kneels by the table instead.
"We could literally live our dreams." Eddie pleads, his fingers laced in front of him.
"Your dream. I don't have a dream about dating a vampire. Just dating Chrissy." He sighs, his eyes going glassy. Eddie waves him off, not even looking at him.
"I could literally live my dream. My dream of having a smoking hot werewolf boyfriend who wants to mark me and breed me and keep me forever." Eddie whines, Eric and Gareth both groaning at Eddie's details. Jeff gives no reaction, lost in  his thoughts about  Chrissy.
"You're crazy man. There are not secret supernatural creatures all over Hawkins. Is the whole basketball team werewolves? Is this fucking Teen Wolf? You think Steve is just gonna wolf out at the next game?" Gareth asks, his voice rising again. Eddie plops down onto his butt, elbows resting on the little table, chin in his hands.
"God that'd be great wouldn't it?" He sighs, eyes focusing over Eric's head like he can see it.
"Hey!" Gareth snaps his fingers in front of Eddie's face.
"Rude." Eddie swats at his hand.
"And who's next? Huh? Tommy and Carol? That dick Hargrove?" Gareth shoves a chip into his mouth chewing angrily. Eddie grimaces.
"Hargrove is not supernatural." Eddie shakes his head.
"He's a supernatural dick. Like... his asshole levels are way off the charts." Jeff chimes in, sinking to the floor next to Eddie and taking a swig of Eddie's mountain dew, Eddie nods in agreement.
"Yeah. He's definitely a peice of shit. But not in a supernatural way. Probably good. Honestly. Can you imagine?" Eddie's nose scrunches before he takes a drink as well. Even Gareth groans in agreement.
It's quiet for a moment. None of them talking. The occasional chip crunching or bag rustling, the pop of a soda can being opened. All of them just sitting, thinking, loudly, but in silence. And then Gareth breaks it, and his steadfast denial of it all.
"Okay. But seriously, if they're were vampires and werewolves in Hawkins we'd know about it! That's not something that could be kept secret." His voice is low now, his eyes moving over the boys around him.
"Is it?" He asks, looking slightly worried.
"I dunno. This town does have a long history of unexplained animal attacks." Eric chimes in, the three other heads in the room turn to look at him, slowly.
"What? I like history." He defends. They all go quiet again, for longer.
Eddie moving a few things here and there on the table. Jeff moving them right back just to frustrate him. Both of them slapping at each other. It devolves into a small wrestling match that Eddie wins by going completely limp on top of Jeff.
"Okay." Gareth breaks the silence again. Eddie and Jeff shuffle around, separating themselves from each other, ending up in the opposite spots as before, they notice, frown at each other, and then shrug, looking to Gareth again.
"Okay?" They ask, at the same time.
"Okay." Gareth nods, but holds his finger up at them. Their brows raised on their foreheads as they wait.
"But Steve Harrington. Is not cool enough. To be a fucking werewolf."
~°~
One week, three days, and ten hours later. The morning after the full moon. Eddie nearly hits Steve Harrington with his van.
Rain is pouring from the sky, his wipers on high, barely helping. He's heading for school, Wayne had sent him off on time after a nice plate of scrambled eggs and toast.
He didn't have any tests or quizzes today. And he'd actually remembered to do his homework. The morning was going well.
That's when the body appeared in the road just past his vision. He slammed on the breaks and had never been so happy that he'd been ripped off and over paid for new breakpads last month. The van skids to a halt, his headlights shining on the person, the naked person, in the road.
"What the fuck?" Eddie breathed. He slammed the van into park, grabbed the keys out, and jumped out into the pouring rain. He stopped, grabbed a blanket out of the back, that normally covered Gareth's drums when they traveled, and ran around the front of the van.
"Holy shit." Eddie felt like he'd been punched.
"Hi Eddie." Steve Harrington, naked, wet, waving up at him with a wiggly fingered wave, and holy shit was that blood.
"Is that blood?" Eddie blurts, his hands already shaking.
"Yeah." Steve says, like it's fine, like it's normal.
"Shit did I hit you?" Eddie falls to his knees, holds the blanet out to Steve. He eyes it, looks back to Eddie.
"You're naked." He says. Steve closes his eyes, sighs.
"Right. Thanks." He grabs the blanket, drags it around his waist as he tries to stand. The second he puts pressure on his leg he starts to fall again. Eddie ducks under his arm and catches him. Doing his best to ignore the way Steve's warm, wet, skin feels under his hands.
"Hospital?" He asks, helping Steve to the passenger door. Steve levels him with a look that tells him he should know better.
"Right. Okay. Sorry. Jeez. You just- You're bleeding kind of a lot dude." Eddie huffs, helps Steve into the van and grabs a towel from the glovebox.
His brows furrowed, he presses it to the very large fucking hole, in Steve's leg. He doesn't even flinch, his eyes locked on Eddie, and his slow, gentle movements. Steve's hand settling over his makes his whole body jerk.
"Thanks. I can do that." Steve says, softly. Eddie doesn't let go.
"You gotta put pressure on it." He says, eyes locked on the red seeping into the towel.
"I will." Steve nods, squeezes Eddie's wrist, trying to get his attention.
"Eddie?" He squeezes again, Eddies eyes move up his arm to his face.
"Yeah?" His eyes are wide.
"We gotta get outta here." Steve's own eyes widen, waiting for Eddie to understand. It doesn't take long. He whips his head around, trying to see into the trees around them, his hair completely soaked now, his bangs drooping into his eyes.
"Shit. Okay." He nods, turns back to Steve, hands over the towel to him and nods again.
"Okay. I got it." He says, not sure if he's talking to himself or Steve. Steve nods, fucking smiles, at him, and lets him shut the door.
Eddie runs around the van, jumps back in, starts her up, gets her turned around carefully, and drives.
"Did someone shoot you man?" Eddie asks after a moment, Steve groans as he presses the towel to his leg, hard, his knuckles going white.
"Yep. Sure did." Steve sounds... nonplussed. Like it's just, a normal fucking Tuesday. Which it isn't. It's very much not a normal Tuesday. Because Steve Harrington got shot. And now he's in Eddie's van bleeding. And besides all that it's fucking Friday.
Eddie's hands tense on the wheel, his own knckles white now as well. He's nodding. Just absently. His head knows Steve answered him, can't seem to from words to make his own answer just yet.
"You okay Eddie?" Steve asks, tugging the blanket around his waist more with his free hand. Eddie just keeps nodding.
"Where are you taking me?" Steve asks, seems to realize he wasn't going to get an answer to the previous question.
"Home." Is all Eddie says. He glances to his right, Steve's eyes are on him.
"Wayne'll know what to do. He'll help." Eddie nods, his eyes back on the road.
"He'll help." He says again, to no one in particular. Steve nods, bites his lip when pain shoots through his leg, doesn't quite manage to stiffle the groan of pain.
"Who fucking shot you Steve?" It's the first time he's used Steve's name, maybe ever, to his face at least. Steve snorts, it sounds like a laugh.
"Fucking Hargrove." He grunts, presses harder on his leg. Eddie's head whips to look at him, his wet hair slapping against his face.
"What? Shit. Really?" He asks, rapid fire. Steve closes his eyes and nods.
"Eyes on the road Ed's." Steve's lips turn up in a smile right before Eddie looks away, his eyes are still closed.
"Covered his scent somehow. I didn't smell him. Or hear him. Fucking asshole." Steve slams his fist against the dash, Eddie jumps, his whole body twitching, he refused to acknowledge the yelp that came out of his mouth.
"Sorry. I'm sorry." Steve breathes deeply through his nose, like he's trying to stay calm.
"It's okay. I'd be pissed too if Billy Hargrove fucking shot me." Eddie says, quickly, the words falling out of his mouth faster than he can think them. Steve snorts again, and Eddie's sure he is laughing, as well as he can, through the pain.
"Wait, he drives that blue camero right?" Eddie asks, eyes locked on his rear view mirror.
"Yeah. Why?" Steve follows his gaze, then looks into the side mirror.
"Shit." He says, trying to sit up further, or turn around, or something.
"Put the seat back and lay down." Eddie says, his hand pointing across Steve's lap to the little lever on the side.
Steve does as he's told, the seat going nearly flat. Eddie reaches behind his seat and grabs his backpack, sets it genlty in Steve's lap. Anyone passing would just be able to see the top of it.
He pushes his tape back into the tapedeck and cranks the volume. His fingers drumming and his head bobbing to the music as Billy's car rumbles up behind them, fast. Eddie's lucky he even saw it at all in the rain.
He keeps his eyes forward, fingers drumming. Pretends not to notice Hargove's car pull along side him for a moment. He twitches his head to the side, does a double take and then scowls at him, motioning to the open road ahead of them. Clearly telling Hargrove to fucking pass him already.
He does. Flipping Eddie the bird as he goes. He does a u-turn in the middle of the road and speeds back past them, the water from his tires splashing across Eddie's windshield.
He flips the wipers back up and keeps his eyes on Billy's car until it disappears back into the rain. He grabs his bag off Steve's lap and sets it by his feet instead as Steve sits up with a groan. Pulling the lever again so the seat comes with him.
"That was pretty good." Steve sighs, leaning against the window. Eddie turns his music down.
"Don't sound so suprised. I sell drugs man. I have to act natural a lot. Plus, he almost ran me off the road last month, I was pretty sure he'd try and pass me anyway." Eddie shrugs, keeps both hands on the wheel and one eye on the road behind them.
"Why'd he shoot you?" Eddie asks, glancing at Steve and then back to the road. He'd swear Steve was smiling.
"Why do you think?" He asks, sounds tired. Eddie rolls to a stop at a four way, looks over at Steve, down to the towel on his leg soaked with blood. He pulls away slow, they're so close to home now, no need to draw attention.
"He doesn't know it's me, I don't think. Just that he shot a wolf. He's been trying since he got here. Hunting us." Steve sighs, readjustes himself in his seat again.
Eddie swallows, hard, his heart pounding. His knuckles flashing white again as he squeezes the steering wheel. He turns into Forest Hills, his foot that's not on the peddle is shaking now, his knee jumping and jerking.
He pulls up to the trailer slowly, cuts the lights and the engine, and turns slowly in his seat to face Steve.
"You're a werewolf." He exhales into the space between them.
"I'm a werewolf." Steve nods, gives him a pained, toothy, smile. Eddie nods back, keeps nodding, he's lost in it again. The nodding.
Steve's hand patting his cheek snaps him out of it. He jerks again, not used to being touched there, or anywhere, really. He sees Steve pull his hand back, swears he sees hurt in his eyes.
"Sorry. I know it's a lot. But I need to get this bullet out of my leg like, yesterday." Steve sighs, covers the hurt look with another pained smile.
"Right. Yeah. Of course. Hang tight." He pats Steve's knee genlty, hops out of the van, and yells for Wayne.
~°~
They get Steve inside no questions asked. Wayne carries him to the bathroom and sets him on the edge of the tub. Eddie grabs a pair of boxers from his drawer and brings them to Steve.
"Figured you don't wanna be naked while you do that." He shrugs. Steve shrugs back.
"I've done worse things naked." He says, a little smile on his lips. Eddie goes warm all over and nods, bumps into the door frame as he back out of the small room.
He watches Wayne roll his eyes at him. He shakes his head too, crossing his arms over his chest. Eddie mouths 'shut up'at him and goes to kitchen. Wayne walks up beside him while he tries to get Steve's blood out from under his nails.
"Hey." Wayne sets his hand on Eddie's shoulder, he twitches.
"You did good kid. Bringin him here." Wayne's voice is calm. Always calm with Eddie.
He's never heard the man yell, except maybe at the raccoons that live to dig through their trash and toss it all over the yard. Eddie swears he'd heard Wayne call them varmints once. But other than that, he's soft spoken, so different from Eddie's father. Eddie's grateful. Everyday.
"Yeah. He was just out in the road. I almost hit him." Eddie's lip wobbles and Wayne pulls him to his chest, his hand rubbing up and down Eddie's back.
"But you didn't. You stopped. And you saved him, sounds like, so..." he pulls back, cradles Eddie's face.
"Seems to me that's all that matters." He lifts his eyebrows, giving Eddie that look. Eddie nods, a little frantic, licks his lips, looks in the direction of the bathroom.
"Yeah. That's what matters." He nods again, wipes his hands on his shirt. Opens his mouth to thank his uncle when Steve calls his name.
"Go on. Go see to your boy." Wayne tilts his head in Steve's direction.
"Oh my god. He's not my- he can hear you." Eddie hiss/whispers at Wayne. He pulls his lips into his mouth, shrugs, looking like he could not be less sorry. Eddie hisses at him as he walks away, glaring. Wayne laughs behind him and starts a pot of coffee.
"You called?" Eddie teases when he gets to the bathroom, leans agaisnt the doorframe.
"You came." Steve teases back, his eyes locked on Eddie. Eddie flushes again, from head to fucking foot. He clears his throat, rubs at the back of his neck.
"Did you need something?" Eddie asks, his eyes on the floor now. He swears he hears Steve chuckle, but can't risk looking up to find a smiling, teasing Steve, he wouldn't survive it right now.
"Yeah. Two things actually. And you're not gonna like the second one." Eddie's eyes snap to Steve's face, he looks apologetic.
"What is it?" Eddie asks, shoving his hands into her pockets nervously.
"Well the first thing, I need you to call Jim Hopper. Tell him what happened. And that I'm here. And I'm safe. I am safe with you, right Eddie?" Steve looks up at him with wide eyes. Eddie nods, licks his lips, tries to do better.
"Yeah. Course. That thing, earlier? When you touched me. And I flinched." He jerks his head back, motioning behind him, into the past hour.
"That wasn't because of you and your- it wasn't cuz of that. I'm not afraid of you. I'm just not used to people touching me." Eddie babbles, knows that's probably not what Steve meant, probably not why he was asking if he was safe.
But that hurt look kept bouncing around Eddie's head and he had to say it, to tell him it wasn't because of Steve, any part of him. And it pays off, his babbling, for once, because Steve smiles, and his cheeks tint pink, and Eddie could look at that all day.
"Thanks." Steve mumbles, Eddie nods.
"Call Hopper. Got it. And the second thing?" He rocks up onto the balls of his feet and then back down, Steve looks up at him and grimaces.
"I need you to help hold this while I dig the bullet out." Steve taps the little homemade tourniquet he and Wayne had put together, resting right above the bullet wound. Eddie swallows, his throat suddenly very dry.
"O-okay." He stammers.
"Do you want Wayne to do it?" Steve asks, eyeing Eddie like he thinks he's gonna pass out. Eddie shakes his head, once to answer the question, and then again to clear it.
"Lemme go have Wayne call Hopper. And I'll be back. Should I bring more towels?" He asks, hand firmly planted on the doorframe as he leans into the bathroom, his eyes on the bloody towel in the sink.
"Maybe one more. And two glasses of water." Steve says, nods when Eddie does.
"What's the water for?" He asks, brow furrowed.
"To drink. Thought maybe you could use a glass too. I can hear your throat clicking from here." Steve teases, smiling again when Eddie nods frantically and ducks out of the bathroom.
"You can probably hear my throat clicking from across town." He mutters to himself, grabbing two glasses out of the cabinet.
"Not quite that far. Maybe a few blocks, if I really focus." Steve calls from the bathroom.
"Jesus Christ." Eddie mutters, hears Steve laugh. He shakes his head, fills the glasses, gives Wayne his instructions for Hopper, shoves a towel under his arm, and waddles carefully back to the bathroom, hands full.
"There ya go." Eddie hands him a glass, tries not to stare at his throat when Steve chugs it, startles when Steve looks at him and chugs half his own glass.
"Where should I..." he trails off, looking around the bathroom.
"On your knees." Steve points to the space next to him, Eddie obeys immediately, his knees hitting the floor hard. His bites his lip, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, using all his willpower to not look at Steve right now, in this moment.
"That was-"
"Don't. Just- please don't. I'm mortified, can we just..." Eddie waves his hand towards Steve's wounded thigh.
"Mhm. We can." He says, and Eddie swears he sounds like he's trying not to laugh. Eddie rolls his eyes.
"Nothing wrong with obeying orders well." Steve says, his voice hushed as Eddie scoots closer. He freezes, his eyes finally looking up, Steve is staring at him. Eddie gulps, Steve's eyes drop to his throat and jump back up.
"Put your hands here." Steve guides him, shows him where to hold the tourniquet, how to pull but not too tight. His fingers move over the back of Eddie's hands, leaving the faintest tracks of blood on his skin as Steve whispers,
"Good boy." Against Eddie's ear.
"Jesus H Christ." Eddie shutters, his shoulders tensing.
"Sorry. Couldn't resist." And Steve fucking winks at him. Eddie rolls his eyes and huffs, Steve laughs, shakes his head, and then rolls his shoulders.
"You don't have to watch." Steve says, serious now. Eddie nods, but finds he can't look away.
Steve's hand rests on his thigh, as Eddie watches his nails grow dark, and long, and sharp. Thick claws now where his nails used to be. Eddie watches as Steve moves, presses his finger into the hole in his leg and digs. He shoves his thumb in along side it, blood blooms bewteen his fingers and Eddie tightens his hold.
The whimper Steve lets out is what draws Eddie's eyes away. Away from the claws and the blood. They land on Steve's face, his features pinched in pain. He grits his teeth and Eddie sees fangs, too sharp teeth filling Steve's mouth as he groans.
"Steve?" Eddie's voice is airy, his throat tight.
"I'm alright. Almost got it." Steve grunts through his teeth, his jaw clentched.
"Okay. Be careful." Eddie whispers. Steve snorts again, pulls his thumb and finger back out of the wound with a whine, something shiny held between them.
He sags, his body drooping with relief. He holds the bullet out, Eddie moves, slowly lets go of the tourniquet, and holds out his hand.
"Don't lose that." Steve cautions, pausing before he drops it into Eddie's palm. Eddie nods, drops it into the cup near his toothbrush and moves back to Steve's side.
"What now?" He asks, hands hovering, not sure where to land. Steve looks at him, hooks his fingers under the tourniquet and winks at Eddie again.
"Now. I heal." He slips the rags off his leg. Eddie watches as one small pulse of blood bubbles up out of the wound, and then he watches as the edges close, the skin knitting itself back together. Steve wipes a towel over his leg, clearing the blood, and the wound is gone.
"Holy shit." Eddie says, breathless. His eyes jump to Steve face and he smiles.
"You're amazing." He breathes, and then smiles wider when his cheeks tint pink again.
"Ya think so? Most people wouldn't agree." Steve says, but he's smiling too.
"Well most people are idiots. And objectively you're probably weird as shit. But I love weird shit." Eddie shrugs, rubs at his neck when Steve just stares at him, feels himself going red again and stands. Offers his hand to Steve, helps him to his feet. He stumbles forward, Eddie catches him with his hands on his waist, feels his cheeks go impossibly hotter.
"You're hearts always beating so fast. Is that cuz of me?" Steve whispers, his hand settling on Eddie's chest, right over his fluttering heart. Eddie swallows, manages a nod before his resolve leaves him and he steps away from Steve hastily.
"You can shower if you want. I'm gonna- I'll go find you some clean clothes." He jerks his thumb over his shoulder, bounces off the doorframe and bolts down the small hallway to his room.
He falls onto the edge of his bed, his legs wobbly, his chest aching, and his lungs somehow not pulling in enough air. He smiles when he hears the shower start, tries not to picture Steve in there showering. And shit, he forgot.
"The warm waters a little tricky. You gotta turn it all the way up and then lower it back down." He says, not too loud, wanting to know if Steve will hear him. He hears the tell squeak of the warm water handle and then Steve calls,
"Thanks!" Through the thin walls. Eddie bites his lip and falls back onto his bed, his head buzzing. He can't wait to tell Jeff. Oh, he sits up, thinking, he should ask about Chrissy. See if Jeff was right. All signs seem to be pointing that way.
He opens his mouth to ask when there's a knock at the door.An aggressive knock. More like someone pounding and trying to get in.
Eddie's up in a flash, but when he gets to the living room Wayne is near the door, his hand held out to Eddie, stopping him.
"It's not Hopper." Wayne mouths, and that's when Eddie sees the gun in his hand. Wayne's old shotgun. He'd only seen it once. When he turned 17, Wayne showed him where it was, and how to load and use it, in case of emergencies only.
Eddie's body tenses, his hands curled into fists at his sides. He can hear the shower running behind him. Hopes Steve is listening too.
"Open the door Munson! I know you've got him in there!" Hargove's taunting voice calls. A shiver runs down Eddie's spine, he shakes his head instinctively. He sees Wayne do the same. His uncle waves him down again, his palm held out towards Eddie, he lowers it slowly: stay calm. Eddie nods.
Wayne opens the door, keeps his shotgun hidden off to the side.
"Ain't nobody here but us. I think you should leave. We don't want any trouble." Wayne tells him calmly, his voice steady as he clicks the saftey off the gun in his hand. Eddie's breathing is shallow. He hears a snort from outside.
"Yeah right. You're Munson's. All you know is trouble. And you stepped in it big this time." Hargrove snarls.
"Now hand over that fuckin monster you got in there. And maybe I won't teach that little freak of yours a lesson for takin what's mine."
Eddie watches Wayne's knuckles go white where they're holding the door, watches the door shake as he grips it tight.
"Police are already on their way boy. You best be on yours before you get hurt." Wayne's voice is still calm. Too calm. Eddie's never heard him sound that way before. He can feel the anger just beneath the surface, his anger boils there too.
Wayne starts to say something else when Hargrove jumps forward, slams his body against the door, almost through it. Wayne stumbles backward, caught off guard just enough for Hargrove to get the drop on him. He grabs Wayne's arm, tugs him forward and headbutts him.
Eddie's stomach twists at the sound, as he watches Wayne fall to the floor. He knows he can't get to the gun. But Hargrove could. Doesn't seem to care about it though. His eyes land on Eddie, cold and empty, his jaw clenched. Eddie turns, makes for his bedroom. He feels Hargrove's hand slam down on his shoulder and screams.
"Steve help m-" Billy's knuckles slam into his cheek, he feels his lip split when his face hits the ground. Feels Hargrove move over him, and then away. His shadow there and then gone, quick as a flash. Eddie looks up, hears a low growl, and sees Hargrove against the wall, his feet almost a foot above the ground, Steve's clawed hand around his throat, holding him there.
His mouth is full of fangs again, his skin covered in fur now, not completely, just a thin layer, and his eyes seem to glow in the low light of the trailer. Eddie scrambles to his knees, hears another growl.
"Touch him again and I willl rip you apart." The words rumble deep in Steve's chest. Hargrove chokes and gags as Steve squeezes him tighter.
"Sounds like a great plan kid. But how bout you let me handle the rest huh?" A new voice. Eddie startles, tries too fast to turn and ends up on his back. Footsteps approach him and he's look up at Sheriff Hopper.
"You alright kid?" He asks, Eddie nods, his chest clenches.
"My uncle-"
"Already back on his feet kid. C'mon." Hopper extends his hand. Eddie takes it, lets the big man yank him to feet easily. Eddie suspects he may be a wolf himself. Or something else.
"Steve. Let him go." Hopper says, slow, like he's talking Steve down. He still has Hargrove against the wall, he's only wearing the boxers Eddie gave him. His skin is all skin again, but his claws are still out, his fangs pushing at his lips, his chest is heaving.
Eddie watches Hopper move toward him, Steve growls, low in his throat, Hargrove struggles as his fingers tighten, Hopper stops.
"Hey. Kid. I know. Alright. I get. He hurt your friend."
Another low growl, deeper, more feral, Steve's brow furrows.
"Oh. Shit. Okay." Hopper sighs, glances at Eddie.
"You're okay right?" He asks, leaning into Eddie's space a bit, Eddie thinks he sniffs him.
"Yeah. I'm okay. I'm good." Eddie nods, his eyes going back to Steve when Hopper's do.
"Your boys okay. Just a split lip. Nothin serious. He's okay." Hopper reassures, takes a few small steps forward. Steve twitches with each one. His grip on Hargrove's throat still tight.
"Steve I'm okay. You can let go now." Eddie tries. He watches the muscles in Steve's arm relax, but only a little. Eddie shakes his head, makes a decision. He steps forward, dodges Hopper when he reaches for him.
"Kid don't-"
"It's fine." Eddie dismisses. He walks up to Steve, gets close, Eddie moves his hand over his arm slowly, letting Steve feeling him.
"I'm right here. I'm okay." He soothes, fingers pressing into Steve's hot skin. But it works, his body relaxes, he loosens his hold on Hargrove, lets him slide down the wall til his feet touch the floor, but doesn't let go.
"Fuckin'... freak." Hargrove gasps, glaring at Eddie, eyes full of hate.
"Shut up." Eddie and Steve speak in unison, but Steve yanks him forward, then slams him back. His head hits the wall and Steve lets him go. He falls to floor, unconscious.
Steve turns to Eddie then, teeth too big for his mouth. His lips pushed out in a pout around his fangs, and he whines, his hand lifting to touch Eddie's lip, his claws receding back into his nails before his fingers touch Eddie.
He licks the blood from Eddie's lip off his fingers and then grabs for him, pulling him against his chest with a whine, clinging to him as he nuzzles into Eddie's neck. Eddie gulps, wraps his arms around Steve slowly, awkwardly, does his best to hold on. To soothe him.
Once Steve's calmed a bit he pulls back. Eddie looks down, Billy's body is gone. He turns to look behind him, Wayne and Hopper are sitting on the couch, watching some old movie. Eddie's brow furrows. How fucking long had Steve been holding onto him?
"Sorry. I didn't mean to, like, trap you." Steve clears his throat. Eddie turns back to him, he looks embarrassed. Eddie smiles, cups his cheek.
"It isn't a trap if it's somewhere I wanna be. Is it?" Steve looks uncertain for a moment, his eyes darting around Eddie's face, looking for something, Eddie's sure. He either finds, or doesn't, because he smiles so brightly it nearly blinds Eddie.
"Really?" He asks, his fingers twitching at his sides.
"Yeah. Kinda had a crush on you since like, fuckin forever. Seventh grade or something stupid." Eddie shrugs.
"Fifth grade." Wayne calls from the couch, Eddie rounds on him, he hadn't even looked away from the tv.
"Oh my god what does it matter! Bud out would you? I'm having a moment!" Eddie hisses, watches Wayne smile into his cup of coffee. He opens his mouth to snark some more but Steve's hand turning his face back to him stops him.
"Fifth grade?" Steve asks. Eddie rolls his eyes, sighs, nods.
"Yeah."
"Wha- Why?"
"You gave me a rock." Eddie huffs, bites into his lip.
"I gave you..." Steve gasps, his hands moving to Eddie's waist and tugging.
"I gave you a rock!" He says, excited. Eddie nods.
"I know. I was there." He rolls his eyes, teasing. Steve looks at him, for a long moment.
"Did you keep it?" He sounds so hopeful. Behind them, Wayne snorts and then clears his throat. Eddie groans, loud, and long. Wayne and Hopper both chuckle.
"Of course I kept it. I'm a big gay loser and a pretty boy gave me a rock. It's on my nightstand." Eddie admits, his shoulder sagging in defeat.
But then Steve is nuzzling against his cheek and he decides he doesn't care if he's a loser. That pretty boy was a werewolf, and apparently this werewolf thinks of Eddie as his. And he could definitely get used to that.
"You kept it." Steve hums, presses his nose into Eddie's throat and nearly fucking purrs with delight, his chest rumbling against Eddie's, making his heart flutter.
"Alright kid. We gotta get this sorted. Get that bullet. We'll get this delt with. And you can come back here and... well you can come back here. The rest is none of my business." Hopper declares, clapping his hands once, as he stands and moves to the door.
Steve pulls back, nods, and ducks back into the bathroom. Eddie brings him some clothes and then he's gone. Riding away in Hoppers cruiser, an unconscious Billy Hargrove in the backseat, bound and gagged, for good measure.
Wayne moves to stand beside him as he watches them drive away. His arm wraps around Eddie's shoulders and tugs him close.
"Rough day kid." Wayne says, giving him a squeeze.
"Yeah. Not all bad though." Eddie considers, drops his head on Wayne's shoulder.
"Definitely not. C'mon," Wayne gives his shoulder a pat.
"Let's get this house cleaned up before your boy gets back."
Eddie nods, follows him back inside, and starts cleaning. There's woodchips all over the hallway, Steve had shattered the door coming out to help Eddie and Wayne. Eddie suppresses a shiver at the thought.
But has trouble not thinking about the way Steve had been so mad because Billy had hurt him, hurt Eddie. Not his friend. He'd been mad about that word too. Not his friend. Just his.
Eddie swept the floor and tidied his room and let the feeling of being Steve's surround him. Let it fill his head and his chest. Let it lift him up off the floor, his body floating when he finally fell into bed to wait for Steve. His Steve.
~°~
Eddie wakes to gentle hands on his shoulder. He lets go of his pillow and rolls to find Steve, on his knees on the matress behind him. He scrambles to sitting, hands reaching for Steve, met with Steve's own out stretched hands.
"You came back." Eddie mumbles, still drowsy. Steve smiles, soft.
"Course I did. Nowhere else I'd rather be." He whispers, presses forward, his face so so close.
"Can I kiss you?" He asks, Eddie feels his breath rush over his skin.
"You want too?" Eddie asks, because his brain still hasn't quite caught up, isn't sure this isn't just a dream.
"Eddie." Steve says name the way no one ever has, all longing and need, curled at the edges from exasperation.
"Yeah Steve?" Eddie's trembling now, his hands shaking in his lap. Steve takes them in his, like he can read Eddie's mind.
"I've wanted to kiss you for awhile now. Even before I heard what you said at that party." Steve whispers the last bit, his mouth curving into a smirk, his eyes twinkling. Eddie's own eyes widen and then squeeze shut as he groans, takes his hands from Steve's and hides his face.
"You did hear me. I knew it oh my goooodddd." He rolls onto his back, rolling side to side on the bed, bumping Steve with his thighs everytime he rolls toward him. The laugh Eddie's dramtics pull out of Steve is beautiful, it makes Eddie feel like flying.
He drops his hands to his stomach and looks up at Steve. Steve looks right back, his eyes soft, his mouth curved just so in a small smile.
"I wanna kiss you so bad Steve." Eddie admits, his fingers drumming on his stomach. Steve's nose scrunches.
"Yeah? You sure?" Eddie tilts his head, trying to read the sudden change in Steve. His confidence seeming to fail him.
"Did you think I would genuinely say no to you?" Eddie asks, pushing himself up to sitting, so he can see Steve better. Steve picks at a loose thread on Eddie sheet, lifts one shoulder, drops it again.
"Who the fuck could say no to you?" Eddie wonders aloud, just a breathed out question.
"Not everyone can love a monster." The words fall past Steve's lips with sadness, his voice thick with it. Eddie's heart aches for him.
"Hey. You're not a monster." Eddie shakes his head, Steve levels him with such a bitchy look, it nearly takes Eddie's breath away. He snorts and holds up his hands in surrender.
"Okay. Okay tech-... technically you- you are a monster." Eddie rests his hands on Steve's knees.
"Like in the, literal, old movie wolfman monster, definition. Then yes. Sure. You're a monster." Eddie shrugs, shakes Steve's knees until he's wobbling back and forth with Eddie.
"But that doesn't mean you're a monster." Eddie shakes his head.
"And hey, even if you are. You've come to the right place. Eddie Munson, monster fucker extraordinaire!" He does a little jazz hands display before pointing at himself. He can see Steve fighting a smile.
"I mean not that I've... fucked a monster... before..." he trails off, eyes on the ceiling, thinking. He snaps his fingers, points at Steve.
"But I am willing! And hopefully," he wiggles his fingers in Steve's direction,
"Able." He smiles awkwardly, his eyes dropping to Steve's crotch and then back up, his cheeks flushing when Steve raises his eyebrows at him.
"Willing and able. That's me." Eddie points both his thumbs at himself, Steve's lip twitches. Eddie clasps his hands in front of him.
"Please say something so I can stop talking." Eddie begs through a helpless breathy laugh. Steve drags his teeth over his lower lip and shakes his head slowly, moves closer, presses into Eddie's space.
"No... you're not gonna say anything? Or no... umm... wh- what did I say after that?" Eddie stammers as Steve keeps moving, one hand on Eddie's chest, pressing him back into the matress, the other ending up near Eddie's head, supporting Steve as he hovers over Eddie.
"I like when you talk." Steve says, tossing his leg over Eddie, sitting on his thighs. Eddie nods, feeling a little frantic.
"Oh well thats good. Cuz I'm notorious for not knowing when to shut the fuck up. Now being one of those times I fear. Pretty sure. My mouth literally will not stop moving." The nervous laugh that comes out of him just makes Steve smile more, but it's different, sharp at the edges. Eddie realizes what the look is and gulps, Steve leans over him, chest to chest now, nose to nose. He looks hungry.
"I'm almost certain I can find something that will shut you up." Steve fucking purrs, his finger dragging down over Eddie's lips, his hand moving to cup Eddie's cheek. Eddie's eyes flick down between them and then back up.
"I mean we gotta try right? There's gotta be somethin- mmphf! Mmmm." Steve kisses him, presses his lips to Eddie's like he's trying to swallow his words. Eddie hums into it, hands moving to Steve's neck, his shoulders, his back. His hands move everywhere, feather light touches, not sure where to land. Steve pulls back, rests his forehead against Eddie's.
"I really like you." He sighs, his eyes squeezed tight, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath he takes. Eddie watches him, eyes closed, trying to stay calm.
"I really like you too. That's why I kept the rock. And the bird you drew me in seventh grade." Steve's eyes open, he looks down at Eddie, brow furrowing.
"And the poem you wrote  freshman year, about wanting to be a wolf." Eddie leans up, presses his lips to Steve's forhead.
"Kinda cheated on that one didn't ya?" Eddie whispers, wraps his arms around Steve as he settles in his lap. Steve gasps when Eddie kisses down his neck.
"I kept the sweatshirt you gave me at the football game too.Sophomore year. It's tucked away in my closet." He kisses back up, eyes closing on a hum as Steve pushes his hands up under Eddie's shirt, needing to touch him.
"I used to take it out and just hold it. And smell it. But it stopped smelling like you. Years ago." Eddie breathes against his lips, Steve whimpers into his mouth.
"I like you so much." Eddie whispers, pressing a kiss to Steve's lips.
"You being a werewolf isn't gonna change that." He kisses Steve's cheeks, his left one twice, once for each freckle.
"If anything, it will make my feelings, monumentally stronger. Like it'll be disconcerting. It's gonna make people uncomfortable." He kisses Steve's eyelids as he laughs, squirms in Steve's arms when his hands work their way into the back of his pajama pants.
"I'm gonna be obsessed with you." Eddie whispers, kissing down Steve's nose and across his lips again. Steve whines again, chases his lips, Eddie puts two fingers across them, to shush him, groans when Steve pulls them into his mouth and sucks, his cheeks hollowing as he blinks at Eddie, eyes hooded and needy.
"Jesus okay. There's is- there is a 'but' coming." Eddie gasps, Steve smirks around his fingers but lets them go.
"What's the but?" Steve asks, pouting as he moves his hands up Eddie’s back again. Eddie snorts and kisses his cheek again.
"I just-" he stops, takes a deep breath. His stomach twisting. He feels Steve's hand on his chest and opens his eyes, Steve tilts his head like a puppy.
"Your hearts beating fast again." He says, quiet, like he's talking to himself.
"I'm nervous." Eddie says, straight to the point. Steve tilts his head the other way.
"Nervous to be with me?" Steve's thumb soothes over Eddie's chest, through his shirt.
"Nervous cuz- I've never done this." Eddie bites his lip.
"I kinda figured you were a virgin ya know." Steve shrugs, noses at Eddie's neck. Eddie puts his hands on Steve's chest and pushes him back genlty.
"Umm... excuse me?" Eddie scoffs, a smile tugging at his lips.
"What? Virgins smell different." Steve says, like it's a normal thing to say.
"Ew. What? Why?" Eddie asks, his fingers tangling in Steve shirt as he laughs, his arms winding around him and pulling him closer.
"Dunno. Never asked. It's just true. You smell so good anyway but that part," Steve shivers, looks down at him.
"It's just sweet. You smell sweet." Steve smiles down at him, kisses his cheek, runs his fingers over the spot after.
"Okay well, that's all... a lot of information. But what I meeeeant," Eddie drawls, poking Steve in the chest.
"Is that I've never been in a relationship before. Like, not a real one. Not like this. And I'm just scared I guess. Cuz you're like, a fucking dream." Eddie sighs, Steve smiles.
"And I have a very long history of categorically fucking up everything good that happens to me. And I don't wanna do that here. With you. I want-" Eddie frowns, Steve moves, pulls them to the bed and rolls them, so they're facing each other.
"What do you want?" Steve asks, his fingers moving over Eddie's forhead, soothing the frown and then moving into his hair.
"I want you. I want to keep you." Eddie worries at his lip, Steve moves his thumb over it, drags it from between Eddie's teeth and soothes over the hurt.
"I wanna keep you too. We don't have to do anything right now. I just needed to be with you. After today." Steve says, shrugs his shoulder and curls closer.
"We can just- do this? Just be together?" Eddie asks, hesitant, his eyes falling closed as Steve hums,
"Mhm. We can just hold each other." Steve moves his fingers deeper into Eddie's hair, pulls him to his chest. Eddie clings to him, arms wrapped tight, hears that fucking rumble in Steve's chest again.
"Are you actually purring or does it just sound like it?" Eddie mumbles sleepily into Steve's chest. He feels him laugh, feels him pull Eddie impossibly closer.
"Hopper refuses to call it that. But I like it. I've only done it once before today though." Steve sighs, Eddie perks up, rests his chin on his arms and looks at Steve.
"When was the other time?" Eddie asks, eyes blinking slowly. Steve reaches up, tucks Eddie's hair behind his ear.
"With my friend Robin. You know her. From band." Eddie nods. Steve nods back.
"Yeah well. I came out to her last year and she was so excited, and happy, and accepting. She made me a cake. I mean it was terrible. But she made it just for me." Steve laughs, Eddie smiles down at him, waiting for more.
"And after, she told me she was proud of me. And that she loved me. And that's when it happened. I think it happens when you find your people. Like, my wolf just knows, when it's right." Steve's eyes won't stay on him, and he looks nervous again.
"She's like your platonic soulmate huh?" Eddie asks, pushing his finger around Steve's chest, drawing little nothings here and there. But he feels the tension leave Steve, feels him relax underneath him.
"Yeah. She is." He nods, eyes locked on Eddie now, his are shining with tears. Eddie nods, scoots a little closer, further up Steve's chest.
"I have one too. Jeff. He's in Hellfire with me. We're like two trippy peas in a far out pod." Steve scrunches his nose, lifts his head and kisses Eddie, sweet and soft.
"Thanks for understanding." Steve breathes.
"Sure. Give me enough time and I can understand anything. That ones easy though. I'm glad you have someone like that too." Eddie drops back down onto Steve's chest, gets comfy.
An hour later Steve manhandles him onto his side and presses up against his back, arms wrapped around Eddie like vines, keeping him close. Eddie shivers at being tossed around, even more at being held like he's something precious. He feels Steve smirk into his neck, feels that rumble again.
He smiles into Steve's arm, presses his lips to his skin and lets himself fall asleep, feeling loved, and wanted, and like he belongs to someone.
~°~
Eddie finds out later that Jeff was right. Chrissy absolutely is a vampire. And a good friend of Steve's. Eddie, Steve, and Robin may or may not parent trap them into several ridiculous situations before Chrissy finally tells them her and Jeff have been dating for almost three weeks now.
Eddie swears he knew. Steve can hear him lying. But let's him have it anyway. Robin refuses to let it go and constantly claims that the first time she meddled was three weeks ago which means she got them together which means she wins the bet.
Eddie remains unaware that there was even an actual bet going on. He just thought they were trying to make their friends happy. Steve can hear him telling the truth, and loves him for it.
Steve holds Eddie close almost every night, so so glad he heard Eddie talking at that party. And so so glad he'd told Robin, two weeks before that party, that he was gonna ask Eddie out. That he wanted to keep him forever.
She'd made fun of him of course. Eddie Munson? Really? But Steve had pressed on. Something about that sweet smell drawing him in.
And even after Steve claims him. Even after Eddie is his and no one elses. To Steve, he still smells so sweet, like the first rain of spring. Likes Steve's favorite fruit. Like Steve's. Like home.
831 notes · View notes
sweetheart-satoru · 9 months
Text
his eyes, breathtaking
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you tried to ignore him and your feelings, but they were stubborn.
author's note: me cuz i promised part two in october and now it's here 🙈🙈 don't hate me at least it's here 💋 i love you silly billies 🫶🏽
part one here !!
"you two in a fight or somethin'?" shoko says, leaning back in her chair. satoru places his cheek in his palm, "dunno, she's definitely mad at me, though." suguru tilts his head, "how come?"
"i dont know, can you ask her about it?" shoko shrugs, "i'll ask her at break." satoru nods, "thanks." you and satoru sit behind shoko and suguru. two seats in each spot.
when you walk into class you just stare out the window until shoko makes small talk with you, hoping the awkwardness would pass. “y/n, your bracelet is pretty.”
“thank you!” you grin at her, mood changing instantly. “yeahh,” satoru agrees, and he frowns as he watches your grin turn neutral, “i like it too, by the way.” he coughs. “mhm.. thanks, gojo.” you went back to the last name basis, and his heart drops.
shoko gives him a look, pointing at his phone, telling him to text her. and he does, along does suguru.
shoko: shes def mad
satoru: thanks a lot, i didn’t notice 😐!!
suguru: why is she mad tho?? what did you do??
satoru: why are you guys blaming me?! i don’t know either.
you cough, “hey- uh, shoko.. i’m gonna go to the washroom, ‘kay? if the bell rings before im back i’ll meet you by the gates.” you tell her before walking out. “mhm, okay!” she calls out. and when you shut the door she immediately turns to satoru and suguru.
“suguru, did you hear that? earlier, she called satoru by his last name. something is totally wrong.” and suguru nods, agreeing. “well, satoru. you should go follow her. this is your chance. the bell will ring soon so it doesn’t matter how much time you take, go!”
satoru nods, “mhm, okay!” and then he rushes out of class, going to see if he can finally talk to you.
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you splash cold water on your face. mumbling to yourself, "get your shit together, y/n." you weren't going to lie, on a hot day like this, the cold water felt nice. patting your cheeks, you stare into the mirror, feeling a little bit less disgusted with yourself.
"oh, hey! i don't look too ugly today!" you give yourself a half grin, taking out a tube of lipgloss and lip tint from your pocket. "i'll just fix this up.." you say to yourself quietly.
when you're done you fix your hair, "not too bad, y/n." you smile to yourself, quietly feeling good. you were right to tell shoko to leave class and not wait, you were taking too much time and the bell did ring.
you check your phone and see that she texted you.
shoko: me and suguru are headed to the convenience store, satoru also went to the washroom so you two can meet up with us together
you visibly frown, oh shit. okay, y/n. just play it cool. if you hurry up maybe you can rush to them and you won't need to see him. yeah, if you hurry up you can make it without it. or you can wait it out and hope he leaves without you.
feeling your stomach growl, you screw idea #2 and just speed walk out of the washroom, making a quick turn before in the corner of your eye you see satoru leaning on the wall with his arms crossed. he was looking down at his phone, but now that your in his eye line, he raises his brows.
"wow, you sure take your time. im telling shoko she can't blame me for being late as this time it was your fault." he walks up to you and boops your nose.
you push his hand away, scrunching your nose. "mhm," you nod, cursing yourself for being too late, "lets uh, just go." he shakes his head, "nope."
narrowing your eyes, "huh? nope?" he grabs your wrist, "yeah, nope." he repeats, bringing you closer to him, and he frowns when you pull back. "lets talk."
"talk? talk about what? can we just go? im hungry." you complain, trying to pull your arm out. before (pt 1), when he grabbed your wrist he only held it lightly, now he was gripping it like if he let go, you would disappear.
"you're," you grunt, "hurting me." quietly, he mumbles a quick apology, but never fully lets go, just loosening his hold. "are you mad at me? and be serious, i don't want any half assed answer. tell me what you're feeling." he frowns.
"im.. im not mad at you." you look down to your shoes, and it's true. you weren't mad at him. you were mad at how he made you feel. you hate having feelings, especially with someone you're close with. it always comes back to bite you back in the ass. "then what is it?"
you stay silent. "y/n i know it has to be something to do with me, every time you speak to someone else you're back to being yourself, but when it's me it's like you hate me." your eyes widen, "i don't hate you." you blurt, and he gives you a sad smile. "then what is it? did i make you sad?"
"yes, but no, but like yes maybe kinda no. yes as in yes it has something to do with you, but no nothing you did intentionally." he raises his brow at that, "then what did i 'yes but no like yes maybe kinda no' do to you to make you stop talking to me for seven days?" you watch the hurt and sadness swirl in his eyes, his beautiful, breathtaking eyes.
"it's.. complicated! i don't know how to explain, it's just complicated!" you crouch down, into a frog like position. and he mimics your frog pose, bringing his face closer to yours, trying to figure out what was wrong.
"it's just, all in my head! i don't.. know.." you mutter, trailing off. "what're you thinking in here," he mumbles, "what are you thinking in your pretty little head." he taps two fingers on your forehead, and all you can think about his making out with him until your lips are too kiss-swollen to be touched.
"..stuff." you whisper, burying your face inside your hands, trying to hide your face that's on the verge of exploding with embarrassment. "oh, i get it." his lips curve into a smirk. all sadness gone.
he chuckles, and his chuckles turn into loud laughter. and his loud laughing turns into full on cackling until he really, truly cannot breathe.
"what are you laughing at..." you feel your heart pounding. it feels like its about to burst and fall right in between you two. he's still laughing, trying to cover his mouth to try and stop it. he's laughing so hard you see tears fall out of his eyes. "i can't fucking breathe!" he gasps for air, still laughing.
"oh my god, you're in love with me!" your heart drops to your stomach, and he's still laughing. his eyes are squeezed shut, he's gripping onto his pants like his life depends on it because he seriously cannot breathe.
all this time, for seven days you've ignored talking to him and texting him back, not because you were mad at him but because you had fucking feelings for him! oh god, he should've put the pieces together!
every time you would smile to yourself if your fingers brushed together, how you would look sad when someone who go up to him and confess, how you would smile down at him with a certain time of warmth when he would tie your shoelaces for you, how you would hug him longer than nessasary when he would pay for you food
"god! it's impossible to talk to you!" you hiss, getting up to leave to god knows where. just as you're about to turn your heel, going to walk away, he grabs your wrist.
"satoru, let go, just leave me alo-" he cuts you off by placing his hands on your cheeks, and then you feel his soft lips on yours. your eyes widen as you feel him bringing you closer to him. squeezing your eyes shut, you try and keep up with his skilled lips. he just took your first kiss and you don't know what you're doing!
he breaks the kiss off and grins down at you. "was that your first kiss?" you just turn your head away, trying to hide your flustered face. "you suck." he snickers, teasing you.
you frown, "shut up! you just caught me off guard, that's all! and if you must know i have kissed many people!" you were straight up lying through your teeth and he smirks, knowing.
"prove it. kiss me again. show me you're experienced." he leans against the wall, eyeing you like a hawk. "no. let's go to shoko and suguru, im hungry!" it wasn't like you were lying now, it's true. you were starved. "no?" he questions, cocking his head to the side. "no." you repeat, "now lets go." you try and drag his arm. he just chuckles and follows you.
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he intertwines your fingers together, holding you close to him. he watches you from the corner of his eyes as you randomly look at both of your hands, and then turn away smiling. he also turns his head away to smile. a faint blush rested on his cheeks before he stops you both.
he lets go of your hand before using it to turn your head to him to place a small kiss on your lips again. when you pull back, "you still suck." he leans in to kiss you again but you just shove him. "ugh shut up!"
you speed walk ahead of him, "you're the one who sucks!" he just laughs, "don't leave me behinddddd!!" to which the response he got back was getting flipped off.
as you keep walking ahead, even though he could easily catch up with his lanky long legs, he just runs and jumps on your back, yelling out, "piggy back ride!"
you stumble forwards, holding onto his legs making sure he doesn't fall over, "you idiot, we could've fallen!" you laugh, and he just wraps his arms around you, careful as not to choke you, and kisses your head, "but you love me so even if we fell you'll forgive me."
"yeah, yeah, whatever." you grumble, adjusting him on your back. and he grins, snuggling his face into your neck, loving the sweet smell of (whatever you smell like that's good) and shutting his eyes.
"i love you too." and he can basically feel the grin stretched onto your face.
i accidentally deleted most of the work so now it's not even good :( it literally looks like i shat in my hand, gave it to you and called it writing.. the first version was so much better 🤐
anyways tags for the lovelies that have been waiting months of this <3 @ari-hatake15 @chuuberrysworld @solialuna @kazuahhh @voidsatoru <3 @loquia @mykyoon @i-be-teff @arminsgfloll @4evahevah @the-devilskid @ys2800 sorry if i didn't tag you some of them aren't showing up :(
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soleminisanction · 7 months
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I've always really liked DC's in-house choice of referring to their various superhero groupings as "families," but it has gotten a little frustrating recently with people both in canon and in fandom seeming to forget that families aren't just a parental-unit-and-kids formation. They're complicated, and a lot of the DC families are too messy to fit into that neat little nuclear family mode.
Which is to say... here's some scattered thoughts/summaries about how these families are actually structured in canon, because I think it's interesting:
Supers -- The smaller, more traditional Superfamily (Clark, Lois, Kara, Kon, etc.) is a pretty traditional Midwestern nuclear family, with Jimmy Olsen filling the role of close family friend/goofy neighbor sidekick (in the Silver Age, he was Kara's would-be suitor) and Steel feeling more like part of Clark's personal circle of friends. The recent line up, though, with Jon, the twins, Kong and Nat? Starts to feel more like some old dynasty or noble house, complete with fostered foundlings and the Steels acting almost like knights under a noble's banner, possibly reflective of what the House of El would have been on Krypton.
Arrows -- Might currently be the closet to a traditional nuclear family structure. You've got Ollie and Dinah, their younger sisters, Ollie's adopted and biological children, and Ollie's granddaughter through Roy, plus by some counts Roy's co-parent and her sister as "in-laws." Bonnie and Cissie King-Jones are adjacent to but not technically "part" of the family, though I believe it's implied at one point that Ollie might also be Cissie's bio-dad. Pretty straightforward, these guys are actually family and they act like it, for good and ill.
Shazam Family -- Also a literal, actual family. Not originally, the original golden age "Marvel Family" was considerably more complicated and only Billy and Mary were full siblings, but nowadays the whole point of the modern Shazam family is that they're foster siblings united by familial love and that's fantastic. Meanwhile your average Black Adam story is 75% angsty family drama, 25% Egyptian mythology references.
Flashes -- Technically closer to three nuclear families (the Allens, the Wests and the Garricks; four if you include the Quicks), two of whom are united by marriage and all of whom are bound by the Speedforce, which, given its semi-spiritual connections to things like Speedster afterlives, can act almost like a religious force that connects them to the additional members like Avery, Circuit Breaker and Max as Bart's foster-dad. They're a big, sprawling tree with more cousins than siblings, the kind of family that functionally has a reunion every Christmas and Thanksgiving.
Lanterns -- Now these guys are the exception that proves my point about the whole 'family' thing not being straightforward. The lanterns aren't a family, they're a corps. Soldiers. Space cops. Comrades-in-arms. They respect each other, have each other's backs, might even like or care about each other, but those last two are optional, and they don't have the same kind of assumed obligations towards each other that a family would have. They're friends and co-workers, not family, but that doesn't mean their relationships are less significant, they're just different.
Wonders -- Roughly half of them are either one of Hippolyta's daughters (Diana, Donna, Nubia pre-Crisis) or related to them through the gods (Cassie), and the other half (Artemis, Yara, modern-age Nubia) use sister as a term of endearment more in a utopian lesbian commune kind of way. I think they brought Steve Trevor back recently? He's basically the Ken in this equation and perfectly fine with that role. None of which should be surprising if you've seen Professor Marston and the Wonder Women.
Bats -- This is the one that people get really wrong when they try to force it into a traditional family structure. Don't let WFA fool you, the Bats are and have always been way more a snarled mess of tangled interpersonal relationships than they've ever been a cohesive family. Whether Dick is Bruce's son or his brother depends on what era you're talking about, and the former reading is much more recent than you think -- as in "started cropping up in the early 2000s" recent. Barbara is both Cassandra's sister and her mother. Duke and Steph both have living parents and neither of them want or would ever dream of treating Bruce like their dad; Tim was the same way until his dad died. None of the Robins ever lived in the mansion together, nor did Cass. Babs considered Jean-Paul Valley her brother and Huntress is so close to Tim she once hallucinated him calling her Big Sister. They're a beautiful mess of people finding places where their broken edges fit together into something that works for them and trying to reduce it down to a cozy nuclear family is just so goddamn reductive and lazy.
Blue Beetles -- Are only tangentially related to each other. Seriously, they never even get direct mentoring, each one just takes over when the previous one dies and works on completely different rules from the other two. They're complete strangers bound by a legacy and that's honestly pretty fun.
Zataras -- There's only three of them and they're literally a father, daughter and cousin.
Martians -- Not really a family because there's only the two of them, but an interesting case where the two survivors of what was functionally a war of mutually assured destruction came together in an attempt to find some peace in the aftermath of what they'd lost.
Titans -- The JLA and JSA aren't really in the "family" category, but the Titans lean into it hard, mostly because they're a textbook found family. They don't mirror a nuclear family structure, they're simply a group of people who came together to form a mutual support network. They're the idealized college friends you grew into your own with, some of them childhood companions and others you only met once you leave home for the first time, but all of them friends that you manage to maintain contact with for life, with everyone coming back together even as you scatter and do your own things.
Young Justice -- Meanwhile, this team is the chaotic group of misfits you hung out with when you were a teenager, especially when you were just starting to be allowed to act without adult supervision. You drive each other crazy, none of you know you're all queer as fuck, and you'd fight a bear for any of them even if they asked you not to. They'd probably be insulted if you tried to call them a family. They come out here to get away from their families, thank you very much.
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momotonescreaming · 1 month
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don't say nothing’s wrong
Rating: T | WC: 20k | Steve & Dustin Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Dustin Centric
“If you’re gonna continue to bully me, dude,” Steve starts, brows furrowing; lips pursed in a tight, angry line. “I don’t think I want to be your friend anymore.”
“What?” Dustin replies indignantly, whipping around to face Steve, mouth hanging open. What the hell is Steve talking about? He’s not a bully? He’s one of the nerds, the freaks, he’s the one who gets sneers from jocks and got pushed around on the playground by the bigger kids. He can’t be a bully, it’s like, in the rules of high school. Steve must’ve gotten hit on the head harder than Dustin thought.
It was a Saturday afternoon, they were hanging out at his house, and everything was going fine. Good, even. So where did this come from? A stack of movies from Family Video on the coffee table, a bowl full of popcorn, they were laughing and it was fun. Dustin was just joking and now Steve’s saying this?
“I’m not a bully, what the hell Steve?” Dustin adds, louder this time, frowning over at Steve. He has his arms crossed as he sits in the large armchair in the corner of the lounge. Suddenly he feels so far away. “Are you serious or are you stupider than I thought?”
He watches as something flickers over Steve’s face. Something small, quick as a flash, blink and it’s gone. Something in his eyes, the downturn of his lips, his brow. Dustin can’t quite place what it was, especially not now that it’s gone, and there’s a horrible feeling in his gut that it was important. Steve immediately steels his face, smothers it, and it’s reminiscent of King Steve. That aloofness, carelessness, that air about him. That he’s better. That he knows more than you. He’s got the upper hand.
He’s unaffected.
Flexing his jaw, moving in such a way that it looks like Steve’s digging food out of his teeth with his tongue. It almost feels like disdain. He’s never looked at Dustin like this before. Even back in the tunnel, with Billy, when he was dragging him down the train tracks. So what’s gotten into Steve now? It was just a joke, and now Steve’s threatening to ditch him? He would never.
“Thanks Dustin.” Steve says, uncrossing his arms and resting them on the armchair. As if he’s about to lift himself up to standing — and leave. “Thanks for proving my point.”
[read the whole thing on AO3]
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wasawattpadkid · 1 year
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Drunk Antics
Summary: When Billy and Stu have a little too much to drink they come to you.
Pairing: poly!ghostface (college au) x fem!reader
Warnings: Nothing really just fluff and angst. Drunk Billy and Stu
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The pounding on your dorm door was bound to wake up everyone in a 5 mile radius. "What the hell-" Billy and Stu hit the floor in a heap of giggles. "Told you she was home fuckrag." A tiny hiccup could be heard coming from Stu. "How did you two even get in here?" You questioned helping the men up. "A magician never tells his secrets Y/n." Stu's words were slurred and his legs were shaky. You closed the door telling them both to sit down. Thankfully Stu listened falling back on your roommates bed. "I'm gonna be sick..." Stu groaned.
"No no no, no you're not." You grabbed a trash can running to his aid. "I'm kidding!" He giggled his hiccups getting worse. Billy tossed his hair back dancing around the room. "I was thinking of you tonight..." Stu said dragging his hand down the middle of your shirt. You laughed dryly. "Oh yeah I bet you were. You know you smell like perfume Stu." You weren't pissed just disappointed. "We robbed a perfume store." Billy laughed at his partners answer.
"Dance with me Y/n." Billy tugged at your clothes trying to pull you to him. "Babe you reek of Jack Daniels." Billy's lips made contact with your neck biting and sucking the skin he found. "Oh no, not tonight. You are both way too drunk." You pushed him back just enough to see his splotchy red face. The tip of his nose bright red making him look like Rudolph. "I didn't have near as much as he did." He pointed to the unconscious man on the bed. "Fuck." You left Billy standing to roll Stu on his side just in case.
"He'll be fine. I didn't drug him this time." You whipped your head towards your boyfriend. "What!?" You whisper yelled and he just laughed. "Kidding! If making a joke is a crime arrest me." He held out his hands connected by the wrist. "As much as I'd love to see you in handcuffs not tonight Billy, I said no." He rolled his eyes stomping his foot like a toddler. "Jesus how much did you drink tonight?"
You helped him out of his leather jacket flinging it to the side of the room. "Slow down there my girlfriend kills people." He slurred and you laughed. His knuckles were slightly bloody which is something you'd definitely have to bring up tomorrow. "We need to get you into bed." He rubbed his hands together once again thinking he was about to get lucky. He sat down on the bed letting you pull off his shoes. The next thing to go was his shirt. "You're very beautiful at this angle." When he was drunk his charm was on high. "Thanks." You didn't even bother with his jeans. "Now lay back."
Billy did as told waiting for you to climb in with him. "Where you going?" He asked his pout could be heard in his voice. "I'm checking on Stu." You sighed hating being a babysitter. "And I don't want the world to see me!" Billy loudly began singing making you jump. "Cause I don't think that they'd understand." He was your drama queen. "With everything meant to be broken." You were 100% sure those weren't the lyrics. He mumbled the next line tears now forming in his eyes. "Babe don't.. aww." He held out his arms like a toddler pulling you on top of him.
Your head laid on top of his chest as his arms squeezed you. "Promise you won't leave us." He whispered. The sound of his voice broke your heart. "Where is this coming from?" A whimper left his throat. "Just promise." You sighed. "I promise Billy." With that his heart rate slowed and he began to fall asleep. Thank God your roommate went home for the weekend.
"Y/n?" Stu whispered from the other bed. You closed your eyes preparing for more antics. "Yes babe?" Silence. "Yes babe?" You repeated. Nothing. "Stu!" You whispered gaining his attention. "Hmm?" He mumbled. "What'd you want?" You asked ready to help him to the bathroom or trash can. "I don't know you called me." You took a moment before you laughed with pity. "Your head is going to kill you tomorrow."
"If it doesn't you will." He muttered falling back asleep. "Damn straight." You smiled as you cuddled up with Billy.
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thatfreshi · 8 months
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We, are going to be okay - Astarion x Reader
TW - self-harm
I don't write angst often but this concept just hit me too hard not to try and execute. Astarion tries taking others' perception of him into his own hands, and it comes with a cost.
Recommended Song: What Was I Made For? - Billie Eilish
For as long as you and Astarion have lived together, he starts every day the same. Then again, the both of you are creatures of habit, and you usually wake up soon after he does. Your lover can be found in front of the vanity, trimming away at whatever isn't perfect. He'll take scissors to dead ends, cut his cuticles, occasionally pluck eyebrows if they happen to be out of line. He does this every. Single. Morning.
At this point you're used to waking up to the sound of blades running through hair, a slight hum from Astarion as he focuses on all the details of his perfect appearance. Sometimes he doesn't even notice that you've woken up. Despite not being able to see his reflection, he's quite precise. And you have never once questioned this ritual of his.
You then are awoken by a cry of pain, a most unusual noise at dawn.
"Darling?"
You ask groggily, wondering if perhaps he cut a nail back too far. You wipe the wave of sleep from your eyes, trying to focus over at the vanity.
Red.
Red down his face. Suddenly you're soberly awake, and you stumble out of bed to see what he's done now.
"It's alright my love, just a knick."
Shaking voice, he wipes the blood off his face, and it just pours more. A slash clean across his cheek.
"That is absolutely not a knick!"
You grab a nearby rag and start applying pressure to the cut.
"How in the nine hells did you manage to do this?"
He pauses before answering, and then simply shrugs. You notice he grabs something off the vanity table, quick enough you don't see what.
"Who knows, perhaps we have a poltergeist?"
While Astarion is usually a fantastic liar, he has slowly lost the skill around you. You get suspicious, as he's still shaking from the wound. Gazing at the table, you notice everything is where he leaves it, in it's nice tidy place. Scissors back in their hiding place.
"Astarion, my love, what are you hiding from me?"
He says nothing, averting his gaze.
"Darling, please, tell me."
You take his hands in yours, bloody rag set aside. He still refuses to make eye contact. Instead, he wriggles his hands out of yours and goes to grab something out of his boot. A dagger. He tosses it on the floor. It's so slick in crimson that some red specks fall on the hardwood floor. Suddenly he chokes up, unable to speak as you keep staring at his dagger.
"Oh my love, my precious one."
You also find yourself at a loss for words, as your throat closes and the tears form at your eyes. You look back up at him. He seems ashamed, embarrassed, frightened by the blade on the floor.
"Why?"
Your voice cracks, almost unable to get the single word out into the air. You retrace your steps back to his hands, squeezing them tight, as if he'll evaporate in your grasp.
"I... I don't know. I just sat down and all of a sudden, there was all this rage, all this sorrow. I can't even see myself and everyone just decides everything they need to know about me based on something I'll never be able to comprehend. A barmaid assuming I'll flirt to get a free drink, a stranger whispering to a confidant whilst eyeing me up and down. This body, it's only ever been a facade, a trap to pull people in, a tainted memory of Cazador's reign. And I thought about upkeeping it once again, and I just-"
He is cut off by another sob. You have no idea what to say. You had no idea he was struggling like this, that he felt so judged.
"It's okay darling, it's okay."
There's nothing. You are filled by the void. You've heard the stories, Astarion going through hell and back. You've been awoken by the nightmares, you've had the long talks about his boundaries, but you never thought he would ever hurt himself. Somehow that twists your heart worse than any stories of vampire lords and monster hunters. But right now, it's not about you pitying him. He needs you.
You wipe at your eyes once more and go to check on his wound. You silently thank the fact that he's as meticulous about sharpening his weapons as he is about everything else. As you dab at the wound again, he tries to speak. You pause, to try and let the words come out. He grabs onto your forearm, holding on as if you're going to disappear.
"Do you think it'll scar?"
You shake your head immediately.
"No, it won't. I'll get whatever healer we have to, I'll pay whoever we need to."
A vampire bite, a cruel poem, he didn't need one more reminder of the past.
"I'm sorry."
You hold his head in your hands, wiping away at the mist falling down his face.
"It's okay. You'll be okay. We, are going to be okay."
He gives you a pain-ridden smile, something unsure resting on his lips, but he trusts you. He trusts that you're there for all of it, the drunken nights in town, the flirtatious glances, the moments where he forgets he's home. He reciprocates your affirmation.
"Okay."
Somehow you feel a little bit better, that you're here for him. It's going to be a lifetime of ups and downs, but you'd only want to share them with him, and he's grateful. The good, the bad, and the ugly, that's what they all say. And you'll be there for all three.
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licorice-tea · 2 months
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You Feel Right; Stay A Sec
Pairing: Trafalgar Law x reader
Content: pining, yearning, wanting, and needing <3 no smut just fluff! kissing and smooching, just one mention of “going further”! reader is a heart pirate and likes reading :)
Word Count: 1.4k
A/N: it’s been a while since i wrote something for my man (Law <3) so i had fun with this😇☝️inspired by lyrics from the song “Hostage” by billie eilish… i love writing based on songs, it’s probably bc i have music playing 24/7 in either my headphones or on a speaker, and i just love music! so it’s easy to get inspo or create scenarios while listening to it, yk? anyway, hope you enjoy! <3
I wanna be alone
Danger around every corner, piles of work, tasks demanding his attention, and crew members in need of their captain’s opinion are all sources of constant stress for one Trafalgar Law. It’s not that he doesn’t love being a surgeon; it’s his passion, nor his crew; they’re the closest thing he has to a family now. It's just that his battery in all aspects- social, mental, physical- is constantly drained.
The only things keeping him going are steaming cups of black coffee and the rare moments of quiet before he passes out on top of his comforter. And, no matter what form the momentarily relief from life takes, it most always comes when Law is alone. He prefers it that way, anyway.
Alone with you, does that make sense?
He prefers being alone, really. Which is why nothing about you makes sense. Right off the bat, Law has felt differently around you than others. He made an effort not to show that difference in opinion no matter how strong it came to be at times.
Times like now, where sleep eludes Law despite how damn tired he is. For whatever reason, all he wants is to hold something- no, someone… you. Law wants to hold you. Or maybe you could hold him, who cares about the specifics?
Law flips on his stomach and groans into his pillow. This is new territory. He’s never wanted someone the way he wants you. A partner to hold close on nights like these, or to simply be alone with.
I wanna steal your soul
He has considered, on multiple occasions, telling you how he feels. But Law would never actually do such a thing. It would be a complicated and messy affair, surely, thanks to your positions. (His as your captain and yours as his subordinate.) And he wouldn’t want you to feel like you had to accept his confession, either.
Still… he wishes you were his, in every way a person could give themself to another.
And hide you in my treasure chest
At least you’re on his crew. You’re always nearby, should he need you, which he often does. Sometimes, Law likes to call you into his office for a made up reason. “Y/n-ya,” he’d say, “give me a rundown on tomorrow’s conditions at sea.” Though you’re not the navigator of the ship, you still know plenty about seafaring, so you’d comply. Then he’d find some other trivial matter to discuss, or offer you a new book so you could later exchange thoughts on it. Just something- anything to keep you around as long as possible. It’s so much more peaceful with you.
I don't know what to do
But how to make your role in his life a more permanent one? Law hasn’t a clue. Tonight, like many others, you sit on a couch in Law’s office. Neither of you speak, but the atmosphere is calm and comfortable.
Or it should be. Law discreetly looks your way every few minutes, then every few seconds. His eyes follow the way yours scan side to side over a page of your book. From the lines of your jaw and neck, to stray hairs falling over the curve of your cheek.
The usually undetectable tension seems to be coming to a point tonight, and Law doesn’t know how to resolve it. But he wants to, almost as much as he wants you.
So, for once in his life, he moves without much planning. Law rises from his desk and crosses the room to sit beside you. He (stiffly) puts his arm around the back of the couch. Naturally, you give him a perplexed look- it’s not like Law to suddenly reach out like this, physically or otherwise.
“Good book?”
“Yeah, thanks for recommending it.”
“For sure.”
“…Is that all?”
He nods, then pulls his hat lower over his eyes. Silently, he makes a plan to abort this failed mission.
Luckily, you stop him and take the initiative.
To do with your kiss on my neck
Law lifts his arm back off the couch and over you. But, you gently grab his wrist before he can go any farther. “Law, is there… You know you can tell me anything, right?”
Again, he simply nods. A moment of silently staring into each other’s eyes passes, and he leans forwards extremely hesitantly. Your hand moves from his wrist and tentatively rests on his shoulder. Still, Law doesn’t break eye contact (for once in his life), continuing to lean forward at a painfully slow pace. So you allow your hand to travel up to the side of his neck.
“You can kiss me.”
He nods again slightly, “I know. I- I will.”
I don't know what feels true
At long last, Law places a featherlight kiss on the corner of your lips. It’s an unsure, awkward action, but welcome nonetheless. His lips linger on yours, not quite aligned for a moment. Despite your breath being held, you allow your eyes to close and savor the feeling. You want more than this chaste kiss from him, of course, but you’d take your time with it. Law isn’t the kind of man you’d want to have a touch and go experience with. No, he’s the kind the one that you want to savor. The one that you want to take your relationship slow and steady with as he wants, and as a result get to spend even longer in his company.
When he pulls away, you can’t help but smile. Law’s parted lips close into the gentle curve of a smile as well, his usual smirk appearing much more bashful. The two of you lean back into each other. Your noses are nudged and warm breaths mingle before your lips can meet again.
But this feels right, so stay a sec
Law realizes he’s never done this before; kissing. But now, he’s hooked. He still doesn’t really know if he’s doing it correctly; if you’re enjoying the experience as much as he is, but it feels good. Therefore, he must be doing something right. Plus you only pull away from him to take breaths before immediately returning your lips to where they belong (on his), which confirms his hopes.
What started as a sweet and slow kiss ends up becoming a much hotter make out session. Months of pent up attraction and feelings for each other spill over, out of your mouth into his (and vice versa.) He’s the first to swipe his tongue across your bottom lip and get you to open up, and proceeds to groan into your mouth in a way that’s surprisingly communicative of how strongly he feels. It gets to the point where, besides your hands roaming over each others backs, you feel that your saliva must also be permanently entangled.
But all good things must come to an end. You pull back completely so that you and Law are properly facing each other, rather than within kissing range. “Law, I… We should talk about this. Before we go any farther.”
His face heats up at the implication; he hadn’t even thought that far ahead, too lost in your sweet taste, warm skin, and soft lips to do so. He nods and just murmurs, “Okay, let’s just keep doing this.”
You agree and kiss him without another word.
Yeah, you feel right, so stay a sec
When you do both finally wind down, and are left as nothing but half-sleep puddles in each other’s arms, Law murmurs something unintelligible into your hair.
Silence passes, though you can practically hear the gears in Law’s head turning. Finally, he speaks his mind. “Don’t go.”
A smile graces your features. How pleasantly surprising it is to have your captain- possibly the most closed off man you’d ever known- asking for you to stay. Of course, you hum in negation. “Wasn’t planning on it.”
His arms seem to tighten around you- though whether it’s reflexively or to keep you close, you’re unsure. “Good.” Then, Law murmurs something unintelligible against you.
“Hm?” He can feel the vibration on your lips against the side of his face more than he can hear it. That’s how closely you’re pressed into him.
Law clears his throat. “You feel right.”
“So do you.”
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flw3rrr · 3 months
Text
A drunken' gamble
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Paring: Billy the kid x fem!reader
18+ MDNI NSFW
Warnings: Alcohol, cursing, Smut, PNV (wrap it up guys) Cream pie, Breeding kink, Top/bottom Billy, kinda sub billy, riding (save a horse ride a cowboy), oral (fem, M receiving) Fingering, gambling, drunk billy but not super drunk so they are both able to consent, Degradng (feel free to let me know if i missing💖) no description of reader
Word count: 1.6k
Summary: You and Billy run along with the same gang. Taking a break at the local saloon for a quick drink and a game of poker. leading to Billy becoming slightly drunk and ending up taking a good ride! + Bonus smut again at the end <3
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The night took over the land as the lights started to appear around the small town. The saloon was busy as ever at night, with men drinking and women working to make their pay. and you just sat at some table drinking whiskey as Billy played some poker with some gentlemen. You'd watch from afar, seeing who'd get pissed and storm out and leave after losing half of their money during the game. It was a time for some nice relaxation after a tough day trying to do whatever stupid job you had.
Watching Billy as he took a swig of his whiskey and slightly leaning back, legs spread open as he waited his turn. You and Billy had something going on between you both. but nothing dramatic—a few flirting here and there and a hungry look once. But damn, how much you’d wish he'd take you, bend you over any surface, and just take you.
Upon your little session of just watching him, he turned his head slightly and looked at you. Something was held in his eye, like some type of shine you couldn't describe. But as he looked at you, his features were most admirable, like God sent him from above just for you and you alone. Turning back to the table once it was his turn, you looked down at your half-empty glass, feeling the arousal grow within you. How badly you wanted to get a taste of him. The alcohol was taking some part of you, but you were still able to keep a full mind.
You notice some man appear near you; he kept looking at you like he wanted to devour you. It disgusted you; he smelled like hard alcohol and truly made you want to escape. "Well, what's a nice, pretty lady just sitting here all alone, hm?" He said his face looked sinful and dangerous. Looking at him with a puzzled gaze, you tried not to respond and turned your head away from him. "Excuse me, I'm talking to you; didn't you hear me?" Not wanting to start a commotion and be saved, you sighed deeply and looked right at him.  "Sir, I kindly thank you for wanting my attention, but I'm afraid I'm not worthy of your attention. I'm sure some of the other nice ladies are begging for yours." Pointing to a group of working girls who are looking at him.
It seemed to work as he wandered off, stumbling his way over to them. sighing to yourself, you down the rest of your whiskey and look back at Billy, seeing how they just ended their game. With him walking towards you and smirking. "Looks like I didn't have to save you, did I?" He said it smugly. "And it seems you're right, sir." Pushing the playful game between you both forward. Billy looks at you and then at the stairs that lead to the rooms that could be rented. "So.. why don't you say we should get some shut eye, hm?" biting his lip slightly, his teasing manner showing as he looked back at you. Grabbing his hand, you lead him, holding your laughs as you pass by those who lost in the game of poker.
The door slams, and your lips land on Billy. His hands are around your waist, gripping yours tightly. He moves his lips down, kissing your jaw line down to your neck. Working to take off your shirt with his hands, desperately needing to feel you. "Oh fuck..." He groans once he sees your bear breasts. Smirking to yourself, you unbuckle his belt, throwing it to the side somewhere. slowly falling to your knees as you look up at him, filled with hunger. Looking back at his bulge,you take your hand and free his cock out. The tip is hard and slightly red, with pre-cum dripping out. Wrapping your hand around it and pumping it. Billy's head throws back.
Letting a small giggle out before taking his length into your mouth, taking how much you could, and putting your hand to whatever place you couldn't reach You began to swirl your tongue around him, moving your head back and forth, pumping the rest with your hand. Feeling his hand grip onto your hair tightly as his head falls back with his eyes tightly shut. "God, I knew you'd be this nice sucking on my cock like a desperate whore?" using his hand to move your head faster and faster.
His breath got heavier and faster. "God damn, I'm gonna' cum..." Billy groaned out. Seconds later, hot ropes of sticky cum shot through down your throat. Pulling back your head, he took your body and laid you on the bed. Removing your pants, leaving your body fully naked along with him. "You're so wet for me, God," he said, looking down at you like a starved man who just found his first meal in months.  Getting down on his knees, he placed your legs over his shoulders. Moving his face into your cunt, he slid his tongue down slowly, throwing your head back and gripping the sheets.
"Billy Oh my god," you cried out, your eyes shutting tightly as you felt him lapping over and over,bringing his thumb along and rubbing circles around your clit. Your hips stutter as you feel your orgasm approach by the second. "I'm so close right here, oh my god, please don't stop!" whining out as your hand moves to grip his hair tightly as if you were going to die. "Let go for me," he mumbled against you, his thumb going faster rubbing the right places as he continued to fuck you with his tongue. You moan loudly as you came your vision going blurry and cloudy.
Leaning back up, Billy hovers above you. Getting an idea, you flip him around and straddle him on the bed, kissing him deeply. Tasting yourself on him sent a shock of pleasure through you. Feeling his hands as he wrapped them around your naked waist, guiding his cock to your entrance. "You've been so nice to me; let me show you how much I fucking love you." Your breath heavy from your previous orgasm. Sliding fully down onto him, your cunt squeezing tightly around him, sitting still before moving.
Slowly moving your hips back and forth, your hands hold his face, making you both look at each other in the eyes. His blue eyes looking at you filled with passion, desire, and an intense stare. Letting out a quiet moan as his hands guide your movement. "Fuck, just like that, don't stop." He let out a slight whimper. Biting his lip as he glanced down, your bodies connected, a white cream ring slowly appeared. Throwing your head back as he hit your G spot gave him a chance to leave markings on your neck. The room getting hot, sweaty, and sticky. "Fuuuuckkkkkk," Billy rasped out, his head throwing back as he felt your cunt tighten more, feeling your orgasm approach.
"Cum with me, Billy; I know you want to... fuck! Gonna get me pregnant too, hm?" You said Making him look back at you. "Fuck yeah, I am. You'll look so good all round my child." He huffed out, taking his hand to circle once again on your clit. That made you even more turned on, quickening your pace to bring you both to your orgasm. Both letting out loud cries of moans out as he filled your womb with his hot sticky ropes of cum as yours slowly dripped out.
Sitting still, the only thing heard was the sounds of your breathing. your head resting on his shoulder as he placed soft kisses on your neck once more. "I wouldn't be ashamed to do that again once more," Billy joked out as he helped you slide off and lay next to you, keeping you close to him. "I agree. You were... okay." You chuckled. Rolling his eyes, he kissed you deeply once more before falling asleep in one another's arms.
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Bonus: Kissing against an abandoned barn as the hot sun beamed onto you both, your breaths were hot and heavy as Billy groped your breasts, squeezing them, causing a moan to slip out. "Hurry, Billy, they'll start to wonder where we are," stating as you unbuckle his belt. It was after a fight with some men and then being chased. Both filled with adrenaline, and needing to get some steam out of you both. "I'm trying, darling, but you know how much I love taking my time with you." he said, kissing your neck as he lifted one of your legs around his waist.
Taking his cock out and pumping it before sliding into your cunt, as much as he wished he could take his time, he knew they'd both have to be quick with this. Both of your forheads leaning onto each other, mouths opened, feeling him filling you up to the brim bottoming out, "Fuck!' You screamed as he began to thrust, leaving no time for you to settle. "God, I always love how you feel around me. Cmon' I know you can cum for  me.''Rubbing your clit as he thrusted more, which started to becoming sloppy
Slamming your lips onto his, silencing both of your moans as you both cum. Grinding your hips into his to work through it "That's it. Fuck yourself on me." Hands tighten around your waist. You both, after hearing your names being called, "Where the fuck are you guys?" Both quickly parted ways before putting the missing clothing on, quietly giggling to yourselfs.
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famwhy · 10 months
Text
Right Way Up (03)
Stranger Things
Yandere! Steve Harrington X F!Reader, Yandere! Eddie Munson X F!Reader, Yandere! Billy Hargrove X F!Reader
Synopsis: You always hated when your favourite characters died in shows or movies; always longed to have the opportunity to save them. So when you're transported into one of your favourite shows of all time, what else are you supposed to do besides save your beloved characters?
Warnings: Threat/violence, Gore, Mentions of sexual content (implicit), Death, Manipulation, Depictions of toxic relationships, Drugs and alcohol abuse
Note: I know Steve's initials are on this chapter but that doesn't mean this chapter is focused on him, just a head's up.
prev part. masterlist. next part.
03. bring unto me altruism
trait: s.h.
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"YOU know him?"
Your gaze wandered over the top of the BMW, breaking away from the (very sturdy-looking) back of Billy Hargrove to instead lock eyes with Steve Harrington—the latter of which had his own optics thoroughly narrowed in your direction.
"Huh?"
"The new guy—" he scoffed out, and you watched as his lips tugged down, brows furrowed very harshly, "—do you know him?"
Ah, shit. You have got to stop slipping up, Y/N.
"No." The response came out quick—and you turning around to face Billy again came quicker. He was still walking off—skinny jeans making it almost impossible to ignore his figure, very clearly outlining his... ahem just as they had in the show. "I certainly wouldn't mind getting to know him, though."
"Ew, gross."
"Oh please, like you can talk."
"I can talk, actually, and—hey! Where are you going?" 
Midway through his sentence, you had started off towards the school, strutting after the dirty blonde with just as much feigned confidence in your walk as he.
It was rude to walk off halfway through a conversation but that was probably the least of your worries right now. You had a plan and if you wanted to execute it, you couldn't let Billy out of your sight.
"Y/N?"
"Just heading to class, don't worry. Walk Nancy to her first period then head to yours, 'kay? I'll be fine."
What exactly were you doing? Simple—remember the other day when you had no clue where you were going and had to rely on Steve to get you to your classes? Well, today, you could follow Billy Hargrove and, with any luck, you'd end up finding the counselor without having to ask for help and sounding suspicious.
Although, the last of anyone's guesses as to why you were acting peculiar would be that you came from a whole other world; one wherein they were all characters on a screen with almost three-quarters of them being completely irrelevant to the plot and, therefore, not even paid the littlest of attention to by the audience.
Still, better to be safe than sorry.
You had many more worries running rampant in your mind, all loud and overwhelming, grand and all-consuming—almost to the point where you had bumped into the defined back of the 80s bad boy; a defined back which, all of a sudden, wasn't moving like it was just moments ago. 
Why did he stop?
The answer to that question was written clearly on the solid plate stuck to the blank, beaten door before you: COUNSELOR.
Your ears perked up as a jingle sounded from the metal knob, a strong, slightly-tanned hand wrapped firmly around it.
The door refused to budge.
"Ah shit," came the steady curse of the broad male. His body had shifted after that, and even an idiot could tell that he was about to turn around, so you did what any sane person would do—you flung yourself to the side and crashed your butt against one of the chairs snugly tucked against the wall.
Ouch... you'd think the chairs next to the guidance counselor's office would be a little more comfy to land on. 
If Billy had found your actions at all weird, he showed no signs of it—choosing, instead, to plop himself down on the seat next to you; pink lips pulled into a straight line and ocean-blue gaze as cool as steel. If eyes were the windows to the soul, then Billy's glass panes were sure-as-hell foggy beyond belief because you hadn't grasped a single glance at his soul.
But... you still knew what it looked like, the shattered crystals left behind in the wake of his past, ready to prick whoever dared come near with their razor-sharp edges—and that thought had your heart squeezing painfully, both in sympathy and guilt; sympathy for his unfortunate circumstances and... guilt for knowing so much about this boy who hadn't a single clue that you existed before... well, any of this.
"'S there a reason for your staring, princess?"
You blinked, all of a sudden being the recipient of a grin that didn't quite seem to reach the eyes of the sender.
"Huh?"—damn, caught lost in thought again—"Oh! Uh, you're my new neighbour, right?"
He arched a brow.
"Cherry Lane?" You added. "My brother told me someone moved in and you don't look like anyone I know."
His mouth stayed sewn shut and you chose to keep going.
"I think I saw you get out of your car earlier too, there was a California tag on it, is that where you used to live?"
Again. No words. Though, this time, his lips pulled taut and any sign of that previous expression had vanished.
"I always thought the Golden Coast was pretty." You weren't an idiot, you saw the change in his expression—the shift in his gaze—but you didn't let it stop you, continuing to speak with a small, gentle smile, "I'm thinking of going one day."
His eyes had softened a little at that, and he parted his lips—looking as though he was about to speak—when, all of a sudden, a sound reverberated through the near-empty hall, and he closed them once more, raising a brow before sending a pointed look your way.
You felt it coming, the rumble deep down in the pits of your stomach, but you were helpless in stopping it—in containing it—and it arrived before you could even blink—
—a low growl.
Your fist rose up, a light cough leaving your mouth as your gaze awkwardly drifted to the side. "I, uh, didn't eat this morning."
Silence.
Then—to your utter surprise—soft, mirthful chuckles flooded your ears, causing you to whip your head around so fast, you almost sprained your poor neck. Beside you was a sight for sore eyes; one that resulted in your jaw dropping all the way to the floor and your eyes practically bulging out with how much they'd widened.
Billy Hargrove—the Billy Hargrove—was laughing.
His soft, golden curls bounced with each bout of snickers that left his mouth—beautiful, azure eyes crinkled and barely visible past his squinted lids—and yet—they still looked just as striking as usual, as mesmerising and jaw-dropping as on TV—if not, more so.
And then, it really sank in.
You made Billy Hargrove laugh.
And it wasn't some fake, obligatory giggle—nor was it that little, psychotic laugh he did when hysteria clouded his usually-cold gaze—no, it was full-blown, genuine laughter. And you caused it.
That thought had your chest swelling with a lot more pride than it probably should've—
"What's up with the tattoo?"
The question left his mouth much more comfortably than his previous words, flowing out with a small, slightly-smug quirk of his lips, and it took you a moment to register the fact that he had stopped chuckling, his gaze having drifted down—specifically, towards your wrist.
You trailed his gaze, finding yourself being met with the three, thick lines that had been there since the day you arrived in this world and—unsure of why they were there yourself—you shrugged. "Dunno, I think I got it while blackout drunk once."
Something about your response must've been funny because he officially chuckled for the second time since meeting you. "I didn't know you country folk knew how to party that hard."
Now, you might've not been from Hawkins yourself but... something about the way he said that had your eyes narrowing slightly in his direction, and you sprung up from your seat, the underside of your thighs suddenly being greeted by cold air.
"Watch it. We can party just as hard as you Calis."
Your pupils grew shaky as you stood there, watching the next set of his actions with a tingling feeling deep down in your stomach.
One hand on his denim-clad knee, defined biceps flexing as he slowly rose up—your eyes rising with him. And as he took a step closer to you—lips twitching further up with a glint in his eyes you couldn't quite discern—you found yourself starting to slowly lose your breath, hands growing just the slightest bit clammy with the sudden blaze of active nerves you were struck with.
"Yeah?"
You gulped. "Yeah."
You felt hyper-aware as a rough, sun-kissed hand slid around your waist—fitting perfectly against the curve of your back, slowly dragging you closer, and sending a flurry of pleasant tingles straight up your spine to meet with the group that started to steadily arise in your chest; a chest that was mere millimetres from the thin, cotton material that covered his own.
Then, he leaned towards your ear, lips grazing the lobe as he whispered—a sultry lull bleeding into his tone—"Why don't you show me just how hard you can party, huh?"
Your breath audibly hitched in your throat but—before you could fret over what he'd say next, how he'd respond to your silly, little fumble—a 'click!' sounded from your side, and you threw yourself straight out of his sturdy arms quicker than a bolt of lightning—just in time, too, for the face of an older woman emerged from within the office not even moments later.
"Ah," the lady nodded, "you must be William."
Your eyes flitted over to him just in time to catch the way his jaw ticked.
"It's Billy, actually." And when he responded, his voice came out cold, different to the playful lilt it held just moments before.
It didn't take a genius to figure out the name struck a nerve.
"Ah, my bad. Would you like to come in and grab your schedule, Billy?"
He didn't respond but did as she asked, brushing past you to walk into the smaller room, only sharing a brief few seconds of eye-contact as he walked past—but those brief few seconds were enough to grant you just a tiny glimpse into the thunderous storm hidden within the pools of his irises—
—and as the door shut behind him, your lips tugged down.
You couldn't help but let your mind wander to the way his muscles seemed to tense up at the mention of California, freeze in what you could safely assume was caused by his longing to return to the freedom of his home state.
To be forced to depart from your home was nothing new, but you truly felt for Billy and his circumstances. His dad was more than hard on him—he was downright abusive, and Billy was forced to endure it without a single soul in his corner to help him through it, to guide him down the right path and teach him how to break out of the cycle of abuse he was forced into upon being born.
He was only eighteen. A goddamn child. He shouldn't have had to go through what he did.
He should've had the chance to redeem himself.
But that chance was squandered in Season 3, ripped from him akin to how his life was—a grotesque limb of mixed flesh having pierced through his chest, several other messed-up tentacles latched painfully onto his sides, bleeding him dry, draining the life from his eyes.
He didn't deserve to die.
Officially bummed-out by your own trail of thoughts, you heaved out a sigh before your ears perked up at a familiar 'click!' and your head snapped to the door again.
Out came Billy, the smug twitch of his lips back on his face—it was so comfortably situated there, in fact, that if any other person had seen it, they'd have assumed it was there the whole time.
But, despite him looking perfectly fine as he walked out of the old office, you still felt the urge to fly into his arms and wrap him in an embrace filled to the brim with promises; promises to at least provide him some level of support for what he was going through and what he would go through. Though, unlike with Eddie, you couldn't act upon it.
See, Billy and Eddie were two completely different people—where Eddie had brushed off your sudden hug quite easily—happily welcomed it, even—Billy would definitely question it, especially considering the fact that he didn't even know who you were.
And so, although it took all of your willpower, you refrained from throwing yourself onto him—choosing, instead, to stand still as he sauntered over, fingers rising up to brush against your shoulder gently; teasingly.
"See ya 'round, princess."
Instantly, a flurry of tiny, winged creatures erupted in your stomach, sending tingles through your body—up your spine to seize you at your throat, clawing into your windpipe and rendering you motionless in astonishment and awe and—
Was it just you or was it getting hot in here?
"Y/N?" You blinked, attention turning to the dark-haired female suddenly stood before you. "What are you doing here?"
Forcing yourself to forget that... whatever that was, you let a small, sheepish smile curve onto your lips. "Actually, miss, do you mind if I ask for a reprint of my schedule?"
"A reprint?" She rose a brow, arms slowly folding over her chest. "I thought you already had it memorised."
"Oh, uh,"—cue a small, nervous giggle—"you see, it kinda like... slipped my mind, y'know? And I already lost my old one so... can I have that reprint?"
She stood there for a little while longer—letting you really bask in the glory of her heavy judgement—before finally heaving out a sigh through her nose, sounding like she just aged up another ten years as she spun on her heel, full, brown curls bouncing after her.
The ground was smooth, friction practically non-existant as you rocked on your heels, awaiting the piece of paper with bated breath. The ticks of the clock suddenly didn't seem so much like white noise anymore as impatience furrowed your brows and your teeth jutted out, sinking a little into your bottom lip in anticipation.
Then, with a loud, echoing, "Y/N!"—someone had called out to you, but their voice was too high-pitched to be the one you were looking to hear—not to mention the fact that it came from the hall to your right as opposed to the office in front of you.
Your head whipped around just in time to have your whole body jerk a little as a girl skidded to an abrupt stop right next to you, her brown, soft-looking hair bouncing with an almost unnecessary amount of volume.
In her hands were several pieces of bright orange paper, all inked with a few words you couldn't quite make out—not without squinting at least.
"Hey!"
"Uh, hey..."
Who the hell was this again?
"How have you been? You haven't been to practice for a while now, the girls are pretty worried." As she spoke, she tucked a stray strand behind her ear and you squinted—trying to figure out where you'd seen her in the show.
"Oh, uh, I've just been a little sick, that's all."—seriously, who was this girl?—"I'm fine now though."
"That's great to hear!" She beamed, though her smile didn't quite seem to reach her eyes. "Listen, I'm having this party on Halloween and... I wanted you to be the first invite."
She extended one hand—flyer fit snugly between her fingertips—and you reached out, wrapping your fingers around the other end before she released it.
Eyes falling down, you took in the words written in... well, you didn't even know what font that was: TINA'S HALLOWEEN BASH. Come and get Sheet Faced.
Oh, so this was Tina.
"You'll be there, right?"
Your eyes flew back up and you were met with her intense gaze, swirling with a desperate, expectant plea you were almost saddened to see.
"Yeah," you nodded, "I'll be there."
If anyone saw the way her shoulders fell and the muscles on her face relaxed at your words, they would've assumed you took some sort of heavy anvil off her shoulders, freeing her of some sort of imaginary weight that was supposedly weighing her down.
"Thank you," she breathed out, voice practically inaudible over the air leaving her lungs.
Damn, were you that influential?—so much so that your presence would make or break a party?
"No problem?" 
If you were being completely honest, you had no idea what to think of Tina—her character wasn't very explored in the show considering the fact that her role was very minor, the only thing she was really used for was the Halloween bash. But just from these few minutes with her alone, you could tell she was someone who heavily valued reputation.
"Okay, well, I should go," her voice pierced through your thoughts. "I'm thinking of inviting the new kid."
You parted your lips—about to say goodbye—when she twirled around and took off running, not even bothering to spare another glance your way.
Rude.
But as your gaze drifted down to the piece of paper in your hands once more, you found yourself uncaring of her rather unorthodox departure—too busy thinking about... something else.
"Y/N, here's your schedule."
Ah, nevermind the bash, you had your schedule now. You could finally know where you were meant to be for each period—albeit, it would take you a while to actually find the places but at least you knew what subjects you were meant to be in during the week. It wasn't much, but it was something.
Speaking of class, you were long overdue for your first period—
—and your teacher seemed to agree on that too, judging by the harsh glare situated on his face as soon as your sheepish form walked through the door. But hey, could he blame you? No, you were just trying to find your way around this stupid maze of a school.
Luckily, getting to your second class was much easier seeing as you passed it on your way to the first—but that didn't make it any less difficult to have to sit through. You were in Stranger Things—for fuck's sake!—what the hell did Newton's Third Law have to do with it?
You weren't ashamed to admit that you didn't pay attention to any of the other classes leading up to lunch—nor were you opposed to confessing the huge sigh of relief you let out once the long break period finally arrived, because—c'mon—who the hell paid attention to class when they just got transported to another world?
Not you.
So yes, you were currently happily strolling through the halls with your arms crossed over your books as you hugged said items to your chest, no sign of Steve in sight—but, you did catch a glimpse of a very familiar Lion's mane by a set of grey lockers in the corner of your eye.
"Eddie!"
Your voice must've come suddenly because he jumped as soon as you called out to him, head turning your way and one hand situating itself above his heart after he saw you. "Oh, Y/N!"
Your lips twitched up at just the sight of him. "What happened to 'sweetheart'?"
"Oh, uh, you want me to call you that? In front of all these people?"
And just like that, your lips tugged down. "Of course, why would that be a problem? Unless you're uncomfortable with it yourself—in which case, you don't have to call me by it."
Immediately, his head shook from side-to-side, messy hair bouncing crazily along with it. "No, no, not at all... sweetheart."
You'd be lying if you said that the nickname didn't garner a reaction from you; didn't result in your chest swirling with a blazing warmth.
Though, it also seemed to result in the jaw of the person stood next to him dropping to the floor; the same person you had just noticed was there in the first place. He had hair that was just as curly as Eddie's, but—unlike the male you knew—his was cut shorter, barely reaching past his ears really.
You knew this guy, he was one of Eddie's friends.
What was his name again? It started with a G. Let's see... Gavin..? No... Gary..? No...
Oh!
"Gareth right?" Relief washed through your insides when his head nodded, eyes wide and seeming to look through you, almost as if he couldn't even believe you were there, "It's so nice to meet another friend of Eddie's!"
"Another?" He seemed to have shot out of his trance at that, and it wasn't long before he gave you an incredulous look, gaze flickering over from you to Eddie, to you to Eddie, over and over again.
Then, all too suddenly, he pulled on the other male's arm and yanked him to the side—not even 3 feet of you—before resuming, "You're friends with the Queen Bee? How the hell did that happen?"
"You think I know?!"
Eddie's response was enough to garner a chuckle from you, causing both boys to quickly return their gazes to your form. Before they could comment on their fuck-up however, another voice came bellowing down the hall, calling out to you.
"Y/N!" 
Unlike with Gareth before, you recognised that pretty face paired with those luscious ginger strands of hair straight away. How could you not? You had practically seen a thousand edits of them along with the 'Chrissy Wake Up' song on TikTok. Kinda hard to forget her after the Internet did its magic.
Though, it wasn't exactly unpleasant to be meeting her, and so, you gave her as bright a smile as you could muster. "Chrissy! Hey!"
"Hi!" She beamed right back at you, but unlike Tina, Chrissy's smile genuinely reached her glinting eyes, even going as far as adorably crinkling them up a little. "Tina said you were feeling fine now, do you mind coming to practice today? Only if you're okay! I know you've been sick so take as much rest as you need and don't feel pressured."
How the hell could you say no to that?
"Yeah, okay, sure! I'll come with you to practice."
You weren't sure how it was possible, but she seemed to light up even further at that, almost blinding you like the little ball of sunshine she was.
In fact, she was so distracting, you almost forgot the presence of the two boys dressed in a completely different colour pallet to you. Keyword: almost.
"Looks like that's my cue." You turned their way—if only to save your eyesight from genuinely deteriorating due to the light that was Chrissy. "It was nice meeting you, Gareth. Good to see you again, Eddie."
Just before departing, you ghosted your fingers over the covered shoulder of Eddie, wiggling them about like you had done to Steve just the day prior; a signature goodbye, if you will.
And as you walked down the halls, you picked up on one last thing coming from Gareth's mouth... one last thing that was enough to drill your feet straight into the ground.
"Eddie? Eddie, wake up!"
That phrase... 
Flashes of Season 4 infiltrated your gaze; of the unfortunate victims that had their lives stripped from them; of the very girl stood next to you's body flying up, limbs distorting as they snapped irregularly, eyes not even having the pleasure of losing light with how unjustly they were gauged out from her.
Had you messed up somehow?
Had the events of Season 4 ended up being triggered too early by your mere existence?
The questions overwhelmed you—flooded through your senses and clogged up your airways with their untimely arrival. You were a puppet and they were the strings, ushering you to turn around; to rid yourself of the wool pulled over your eyes—of the blissful ignorance surrounding your form—and, helpless to their influence, you did exactly that.
Slowly, your head reared backwards—the room spinning around you—and your eyes were greeted by a welcome sight; one that breathed life back into your limbs.
Eddie stood there—eyes still very much on his face—with a familiar, light blush spread across his cheeks. Even as his form was being rapidly shook by his dear friend, he remained still, gaze trained on you. He only seemed to have snapped out of it after making proper eye-contact with you.
Two blinks. A small, shy raised hand. And a tiny wave.
False alarm. He was just flustered.
It made sense, your previous actions could be interpreted as flirting after all—and to be honest, you didn't really mind if it was (again, the Eddie Munson)—but, you'd be lying if you said he didn't just give you a bit of a scare there.
The sentence that just came out of Gareth's mouth was the very same, infamous sentence uttered by Eddie's lips just before the first death of Season 4—a rather brutal death involving the very ball of sunshine that was just tasked to retrieve you.
Speaking of that ball of sunshine—
"Y/N, you coming?"
You blinked, quickly returning Eddie's wave before whipping your head back around to face the ginger next to you once again.
You had to admit, it was very surreal coming face-to-face with people from the show who were meant to die—it felt kinda like seeing a ghost, and a part of you (just a teensy-weensy, little part) found it... well... unsettling.
But, that was just a small part.
"Yeah. Let's go."
You shook off the residual fear that lingered from that little moment before finally continuing to follow Chrissy down the hall. 
The whole walk was full of her detailing you on the failed practices of the cheerleaders in your absence. Apparently, Heather tried and failed to do a cartwheel into a back-flip as part of one of the routines before dramatically throwing her pompoms to the ground and angrily muttering that you could do it instead.
You had no idea who Heather was but you wished you were there to see it.
Oh, and—with you gone—it seemed as though a lot of the girls had taken to slacking off, opting to gaze longingly at the sweaty boys that played basketball just across the Gym instead of actually being productive.
You doubted that would get any better with Billy around now.
"Well, well, well," a high-pitched voice sliced through your thoughts and you blinked, finally noticing that you arrived at the Gym. "Look who finally decided to show up."
You recognised that puffed-up, blonde hair from the first day of your arrival, the stance she took on being an almost-exact replica of the one back in the infirmary.
"Finally done punching the daylights out of some random freak in school?" She scoffed out.
"Sarah," Chrissy hissed from beside you, "don't say that. Y/N's been sick recently."
"Sick of being just as aggressive as her brother?" Sarah rolled her eyes.
Before you could retort with your own defense, however, someone else had piped in—that person being a brunette with rather short, straight hair, "You're talking like you don't wanna fuck him."
Uh—what?
"Jenny!" Your eyes flitted over to the blonde just in time to catch her reddened cheeks.
"What? It's true, isn't it?"
"Whatever, let's just..."
Sarah trailed off there, jaw hanging open as her eyes seemed to land on something not within your immediate eyesight. And when you found yourself following her gaze—you located the subject of her interest, the lack of words suddenly making sense.
Golden curls you had the pleasure of seeing up close just this morning were farther now, having just barely passed through the entrance. A cigarette hung loosely from his lips as the electricity in his eyes zapped through the Gym before finally landing on you, lips edging up into what you could only call a smirk.
It wasn't long before he sauntered over, practically demanding all of the attention in the room with his walk; attention which was happily handed over to him on a sleek, silver plate.
"All this time I've been calling you princess... when you've really been a queen," as he spoke—voice as husky as ever—a teasing lilt laced into his tone, intensifying his gaze and overwhelming you with his suffocating presence. "Why didn't you say anything, dollface?"
Breathe, Y/N, breathe. Stand your ground. 
You tried to, you really did—but, the only way you'd be able to keep your composure right now was by closing your eyes and pretending you didn't see him—
—so you did exactly that.
Your lashes fluttered shut and you envisioned a blank sea of darkness before uttering out a response, "Didn't think it was important."
"Yeah?" Now, while you might not have been able to see him, you could still very well hear him, and his voice was nothing short of the perfect mixture between smooth and rough and—
Stop. It.
For your own sake—and for fear of further falling apart—you chose not to say anything and only nodded.
That was a mistake.
Instant regret hit you square in the face when you felt the gentle touch of a few, rough fingers against your chin, tilting your head just enough to rest at an angle before a surge of warm air tickled your lashes.
And as he spoke—lips almost grazing your closed lids—those familiar flying pests made their home in your stomach, "Where'd those pretty eyes of yours go? Didn't seem to stop wanting to use them this morning."
Damn him and his smoothness.
In an effort to continue to save face, you resorted to squeezing your eyes even further shut—paying no mind to the blissful warmth slowly coating your form or the teasing snickers that left the bad boy's mouth; snickers which you could practically feel the vibrations of.
"What's the matter? Have I rendered Miss Queen Bee speechless?" 
Your vision was dark but you could still see the smug smirk on his face. Just wait until you gathered yourself, you were gonna make him ten times more flustered than you—just wait.
The light clearing of a throat suddenly served as a reminder that you two weren't the only ones in the room and you found yourself feeling a little... cold when Billy pulled away.
Cold? Ugh, once again, damn him and his smoothness.
Finally deeming it safe to do so, you opened your eyes, blinking a few times to adjust to the light once more before you were finally able to make out the slowly-shrinking figure of Billy Hargrove. But just as he reached the entrance of the Gym once more, he paused, one hand firmly gripping onto the frame as he called out to you over his shoulder.
"Keep your bed nice and warm for me, will ya, dollface?"
Your jaw dropped.
Someone else then said something along the lines of 'oh my god' but—if you were being honest—you were barely able to hear it over the echo of Billy's snickers as he walked away, completely amused by your reaction no doubt.
He was so unequivocally bold, you almost couldn't believe it.
"Uh, guys, I think I'm gonna take a raincheck on practice today." But, it seemed as though the other girls definitely could—judging by how the very girl who said this rushed right after Billy.
"Me too!"
"Yeah, uh, I think I'm feeling a little sick."
"Well, I, for one, am chasing up that boy."
"Not if I get him first!"
And as a majority of them rushed after the handsome male, you found yourself deadpanning.
"Bruh."
You definitely couldn't blame them though, the rest of your day was spent recalling all those scenes with him after all. Even Steve noticed your absent-mindedness in the last period of the day—trying several outlandish things to grab your attention that he only informed you of once the lesson was over.
You didn't even notice him waving his arms wildly in front of your face while the teacher's back was turned.
And even as you walked beside him, Nancy strutting ahead of the two of you after you'd picked her up from class, you still had your head roaming around in the clouds.
"Hey, Y/N?" 
You hummed, half-listening, half-not.
Steve then leaned further your way, shoulder brushing your own as he whispered against your ear. "Wish me good luck?"
You blinked up at him, having paid enough attention to scrunch up your nose in confusion and ask, "Good luck for what?"
"The dinner. At Barb's?" 
A few more blinks.
And then—
"Ohhhhh."
Nancy turned around at that, and Steve was quick to hush you. He only resumed talking when she faced forward once more—albeit, slower than she turned around.
"What are you doing? Trying to get me in trouble?!" His whisper came out harsh, and you winced a little.
"Alright, alright, gheez." 
His attitude seemed to be at an all-time high because he rolled his eyes after that. "I just... don't get why I have to go to this stupid dinner anyway."
"Steve." It was your turn to harshly whisper. "Don't say that. Nancy needs closure, this dinner is exactly that."
You felt for Steve just a tad bit, it wasn't his best friend that died after all (thank god for that) but that didn't mean he got to complain about attending a dinner his girlfriend wanted him to be at because he was there the night of the first attack; of the first murder.
See, Barbara (or Barb) had been Nancy's best friend—the two being practically attached by the hip—so of course the night she died would be one that Nancy deeply regretted, and of course she would want closure with the parents of her best friend. It just made sense.
In fact, the whole reason why she did any of what she did in Season 2 was so that she could inform Barb's parents (who still thought their child was out there somewhere) that their kid was, in fact, dead.
"Y/N, you there?"
Caught in a monologue? Seriously, Y/N? What are you, the main character?
"Yeah, I'm here."
Seeing as you were already outside and stood right by Steve's car—you slotted your hand between the cold of both the handle and the door before pulling it open, leaping straight in, and causing the whole vehicle to jerk in a symphony of loud clangs from sheer force.
"Hey! Careful!" It seemed like your music wasn't appreciated by Steve though.
"Relax. It's not like I broke it or anything—" feeling like messing with him—because duh—a smirk slowly twitched onto your lips, "—besides, it's excited to see me, aren't you, girl?"
Steve let out another hiss when you patted the seat a little too harshly—sounding akin to a pissed off feline which just made him seem less menacing and more adorable.
Ha, you tried, Steve, you tried.
The click of the passenger door drew your eyes over to Nancy's form, watching as her legs entered one at a time before she took a seat and turned your way—"We're dropping you off then heading straight over to Barb's."—then, turning to Steve, "Right, Steve?"
You could already hear the grumbled out 'yes' coming from him and you only sent him a grin seeping with amusement when he met your gaze through the rear-view mirror—your lips stretching further as he mouthed the words 'help me' with anguish in his eyes.
"You two have fun, yeah?"
You said the sentence to piss Steve off even further but when you caught a glimpse of the look on Nance's face, a pang shot straight through your chest.
Her eyes had this far-away look about them as her lips curved up by a very small amount—though there was no joy in it, only grief.
"Hey..." you placed one hand on the shoulder of her seat, using it to pull yourself forward as you furrowed your brows, worry clouding your gaze. "You alright?"
She sniffled a little before waving her hand and nodding in response. "Yeah... yeah, I'm fine. Let's go."
Your lips tugged down and you shared a look with your best friend before he started the engine, breathing life into the vehicle as you slowly lowered your body back down onto the leather seat.
She wasn't fine; even without knowledge from the show, you could tell. She might not have been crying but her lip was definitely quivering a little and her eyes... well, they just weren't all... present in the moment.
But, she would be fine. And that was enough.
Besides, though it was cold to say, you had bigger things to worry about. Nancy would get help from Jonathan in order to come to terms with Barb's death—meanwhile, you had no one to help you out with all the spare knowledge you stored in your brain; with all the premonitions (if you could call it that) you were blessed with.
Perhaps it was time you started preparing for another bout with the demodogs—you were Steve's best friend, after all; that probably meant you'd most likely end up facing the dogs together with him later on in the Season.
"Y/N."
You perked up at the call of your name, shaking away the thoughts clinging to your brain.
"We're here."
Lo and behold, so it seemed you were, the familiar sidewalk leading up to your house being visible through the clear glass panes beside you.
Clicking open the door, you took one step out before swinging the rest of your body to follow after, and once you closed the door again, you walked over to the passenger-side window—shoes barely making a sound against the ground—before your knees bent down a little and you tapped lightly against the glass.
"Let the Hollands know I wish them the best, okay?" You offered a gentle smile to the girl sat before you, and she tried her best to muster one up in return.
"Okay..."
"See you guys." 
And with a brief wave, you quickly spun around and headed towards the relatively-normal house.
You now—thankfully—had keys of your own so there was no need to knock or anything. Well—it was more like you had them all this time but didn't know where they were and just so happened to find them the other day but—details, details.
After fiddling with the keys a little, you heard a 'click!' and pushed against the handle before entering, one hand moving behind you to carefully shut the door.
"I'm home."
Curt's voice was the first to greet you—albeit, not very genuinely. "Congratulations, want a trophy?"
Uh, yes, actually. You would very much like a trophy after coming back home in one piece in the world of Stranger Things.
"We're having pasta tonight!" Luckily, Cain's words were a lot more welcoming than the other brother.
So, as was your right, you ignored your second oldest brother in favour of responding to the first. "Ooh! Pasta?!"
You had to admit, his cooking the other night was rather good—okay, it was magnificent, you just didn't wanna admit it because you stormed off the other day before being able to properly finish it.
But now that you could—
Before you could finish that train of thought, three loud knocks resounded through the room, no doubt coming from the door behind you.
Huh.
Was that Steve? Did he forget to say something?
You lightly wrapped your palm around the handle, turning it slowly before the door was open once more, a sudden, light breeze hitting you square in the face—
—though, the breeze could never be more sudden than who you saw at the door.
It wasn't your swooshy-haired companion to greet you on the other side—no—but rather, an older woman with barely visible bags underneath her drooping eyes; eyes which seemed to have lost all light, almost appearing chillingly lifeless—
—well, that was until they lit up at the sight of you.
"Oh, Y/N! Baby! I've missed you so much!"
And as she threw herself onto your form—arms engulfing you wholly, emotionally—you found yourself blanking out for once, only one thought popping up in your head:
What. The. Fuck.
@bdudette, @tanyaherondale, @killerqueenfan, @l3xiluve, @thedoubleexposurephotography, @xxqueenofdemonsxx, @briarsheart, @nickey-diano, @uselessbutinteresting, @steeldaisies, @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom, @patheticreative, @majestichugs, @eddiesbitch83, @secretdryrose, @bloodywickedvamp, @charlizekkelly
Did Billy give you guys butterflies or what? 😏 (Srsly tho, I need to know if I'm writing him well—)
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dev-solovey · 7 months
Text
Reading up on the history of American Idiot (album) and realizing exactly how revolutionary it was and I just have to yell about it for a hot second
So, before they started working on American Idiot, the band was having problems and they were thinking they were going to break up. But for a couple of reasons, they switched directions, most notably because they all felt strongly about the Iraq War and how it was manufactured by greed and warmongering from the Bush administration, which was amplified by the news media. I read a quote from Billie Joe Armstrong where he talked about how the news media was becoming "more of a reality show" than it was news, and he couldn't have been more right. In fact, that problem got worse, and now we're living in an era of rampant misinformation where everything is politicized to a point where just supporting human rights for marginalized people is considered controversial. The song American Idiot came out in 2004, and when Donald Trump first visited the UK at the beginning of his presidency, it was the top played song on every UK radio station, 12 years after it was released. Most things would be culturally irrelevant at that point.
When creating the album American Idiot, a lot of thought went into it - they had a very specific message in mind, and their goal was to send that message to youth. This is because they realized at some point that their fanbase was a bunch of teenagers, and even though they hadn't necessarily intended it that way, they suddenly had a platform with the youth of America and they decided they ought to do something good with it. The drummer, Tré Cool, said something along the lines of "I've never really liked the idea of preaching to kids, but I realized we don't really have a choice at this point." And I love that so much because like, so many people who get rich and famous just become completely out of touch, and when they get a platform, it's very easy to exploit that platform, influence them with terrible ideas, or encourage them to act in terrible ways for self-serving reasons (ex: JK Rowling, Andrew Tate, Dream, Logan Paul, Onision, etc etc). Green Day refused to allow themselves to get to that point. They know the platform they had gave them power and they made an active choice early on to be responsible with it. And a lot of that moral code comes from the fact that they came up in the DIY punk scene in Oakland, which held its members to a very high standard of ethics, a code that they still follow even after they were disowned by that scene when they signed on with a major record label in 1994.
The song American Idiot has a message of "this mass media hysteria is manufactured bullshit, don't fall for it," and it is not subtle about that message. It punches you right in the face. I remember being 12 years old and listening to it and thinking, "yeah, I don't want to be an American idiot." And now, at the age of 28, I am a staunch leftist who is firmly against the atrocities the US government commits, and I feel strongly about stopping misinformation. So I can say with absolute certainty that they succeeded.
I also get like, really upset when people say that American Idiot is the album where they sold out, because that's objectively not true, both for the reasons I've provided above, and also because of the song Wake Me Up When September Ends. Not a lot of people know the story behind this song, but it's actually a song that Billie Joe wrote about the experience of his dad dying of cancer when he was 10 years old. The story, as he tells it, is that when he came home from school, his mom gave him the news, and being (understandably!) upset, started crying, ran to his room and slammed the door. When she knocked on the door to try and talk to him, he shouted "wake me up when September ends!!" in response. It took him decades to be able to write this song, and it shows because it's the perfect grief song, having been played at benefits for 9/11, hurricane Katrina, and so on. The first time I heard that song it reduced me to tears, because you can hear the intense sadness in it. A "sellout" would never write a song like that!! (Side note: maybe stop tweeting at Green Day to wake up every October 1st, it's super tone deaf given the subject matter,,,)
Anyway, I think I'm done being autistic about Green Day (that's a lie, they'll forever be my special interest), so TL;DR:
Thank you, Green Day, for creating a generation of leftists who aren't about the bullshit
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findafight · 1 year
Note
On the one-sided harringrove post- I feel it becomes infinitely funnier with bi steve. He likes men, just not Billy. Never Billy.
Oh yeah. When Billy fiiiirst comes to school with his music blaring Steve is head over heels for Nancy, so he might register that the guy with the Camaro and loud music has a good ass, but then billy opens his mouth and Steve is like "oh, no ass can make up for that personality." And continues with his life.
Just. Okay I like to project just a liiiiittle on Steve with him just. Not realizing his attraction to men isn't a straight thing. Like. Of course all straight people feel that way, you just kinda ignore it or don't do anything about it. So Steve is half way between being comfortable in his sexuality and being closeted to himself because buddy used Hawkeye Pierce as the blueprint of straightness.
So Billy is out here, wallowing in self hatred and internalized homophobia, hating Steve and wanting Steve and hating that he wants Steve and wishing Steve would pay attention to him enough for a hate fuck he can cry about later, and it's all very angsty. All the while Steve is just actually completely fine with thinking a dude is hot he's just got standards that include "not racist" "doesn't try to beat up kids" "hasn't made me blackout from head trauma"
Wait. Oh no. I feel an au coming on. Shit. Au where post S2 Robin hears piano coming from the band room after hours and is her curious self going "I must see who is this mysterious genius" and it's Steve. They get to talking and hanging out and all of a sudden Robin thinks they are actually good friends. Best friends. Somehow.
Cue them going to a band party together. Someone spikes their drinks with waayyyy more than they were expecting so they are blasted. Robin has to go pee but does not want to go alone so she drags Steve into the bathroom with her and makes him face away. He's like haha Woah you really had to pee. And she goes shut upppp and washes her hands but sits across from him. Steve smiles at her and gives her his speech about how amazing she is and how glad he is to be her friend (it is like March '85 so he is still not ready to get back out into dating yet). Robin tells him about Tammy. They sing. Someone slams the door open and kicks them out of the bathroom because there's a fuckin line.
They lay on the grass outside and look at the sky. Steve like. Caaaaasually mentions once having thought he was gonna marry Tommy when he was six and then realizing you just didn't do anything about those feelings and Robin's gotta shoot up going WHAT!! WHAAAT? Because it sounded like Steve coming out to her? Right after?? She came out to him??
And Steve is like yeah. Like you don't really have to? Easier to ignore it and flirt with girls who I like or think are hot. And poor Robin's brain is melting she's like please Steve I'm really drunk are you telling me you sometimes want to kiss boys? And he's like yes, obviously, everyone does. Just like everyone also wants to sometimes kiss girls. Except lesbians I guess who only want to kiss girls? And gay guys only want to kiss guy? Yeah that makes sense and straight people don't care but go for the opposite ya know?
Robin is like NO!! And calms down some and says "okay I'm telling you this because you are my friend and you just told me almost the same thing. Steve. I like girls and only like girls. That not a straight thing"
"yeah. You've said."
"but I am ninety nine percent positive that just because you like girls doesn't mean you're straight because you also like boys."
"what"
"yeah dude, I do not think this is a heterosexual experience you're describing. I'm not an expert but. Yeah.
"oh. Huh."
"yep."
"I definitely thought it was."
"your brain is so weird I'm still kind of obsessed with you."
"haha. Honestly I'm kind of obsessed with you. This is wild."
"well. At least I know you're stuck with me."
"ohhh nooooo whatever will I do with my best friend always around..."
ANYWAYS THE ACTUAL POINT OF THIS is not in fact the stobin. It's actually that
Sometime probably in may, when Steve is ready to be on the dating scene again, he gets with Eddie. Robin is happy for him but also so mad because he went from "probably shouldn't act gay even tho everyone feels a little gay sometimes" to "hey Robin what would you say if I said I got a boyfriend?" In less than two months. How does he have straight AND gay game. That's not fair.
Steddie getting together is a non event. Eddie is still like ewww sports and yet somehow he made out with Steve Harrington and the next day Steve asked if he wanted to get milkshakes and throw rocks into the quarry to see the splashes. Eddie must restrain himself from thinking it's a date because he knows it's not but it'd also be the perfect date (Eddie is a simple man)
At the end of the night steve kissed his cheek and says "I had a really great time..."
Eddie just blurted "hey do you want to be my boyfriend?"
To which Steve perks up like "yes! I'd like that!"
And Eddie didn't actually think he'd get that far so he was like "neat!! See you tomorrow!" before slamming the door in Steve's face.
So they're dating and Eddie disparages sports but Steve is like haha aw you don't like watching me play? Which is sooo mean to Eddie because obviously?? He likes?? Watching his boyfriend??? Run around in tiny shorts and sometimes shirtless?? He has to reevaluate some things he supposes.
All while this is happening Billy is still on his Greatest Homoerotic Rivals shtick with Steve. Eddie notices and is like to dude...what is with Billy? And Steve just sighs. Says Billy is weird and obsessed with him and glares all the time. It's a whole thing. Billy is pissed because what is Steve, his epic rival, doing hanging around some random band geek, his sister's bitchass friends, and maybe the local dealer.
Alright. Grad happens. Yay Steve! Poor Eddie. They go to some party , hang out with people, sell some drugs, etc. Billy is unfortunately also at this party, and is like. Lazer eyes boring into Steve's back. Very annoying. At some point, he sees Steve slip away and is like this is my chance so he follows him.
Howmever he comes across Steve, his epic and totally heterosexual rival, making out with Eddie the freak Munson.
And listen this is a scary thing to be caught inna town like Hawkins, but that's not the point of this post.
So Billy goes "what the hell?"
They turn around. Billy is still spluttering.
"what are you-why would you-- with him?!" He says.
Steve raises his eyebrows, alllll cocky confidence. He smirks a bit. Drawls. "Well, yeah. I like cock, billy. Just not yours."
Because the point of this post is that Steve is a bitch.
Thank you.
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writing0305 · 5 months
Note
Baby/pregnancy prompt with Butcher prompt 7 and 10. Just some cute fluffy funny stuff during about the readers pregnancy. 💖
Baby.
Pairing: Billy Butcher x F!Reader.
Summary: You are pregnant with Butcher's son and he is extremely protective of you. So protective that he doesn't even allow you to put together the furniture in the baby's nursery.
Warning: Swearing. That's it I think?
Propmpts: Pregnancy/ child.
7 - "Go easy. You are carrying my child."
10 - "Well, we both made that baby." - "Don't remind me."
----
Thank you so much for this request!! I love writing dad Butcher so much!!
Billy Butcher was taken with you almost immediately after you joined the boys. You were soft and kind, but still witty with a strong backbone. You two grew close very quickly and for the first time in a very long time, Butcher knew what it was like to be put first in someone’s life.
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You adored and loved Butcher. You kept him grounded and gave him a reason to fight. But seven months ago, you gave him a reason to live. It came as a surprise to everyone when Butcher left The Boys and took you with him.
Finding out you were pregnant, and that he was going to be a father, was a turning point in Butcher’s life. Before, he would have died for the cause, but now he couldn’t see himself doing that. He couldn’t see himself leaving behind you or his kid.
He had managed to get help from Grace Mallory with a secure apartment for the two of you. For a few months, you were under witness protection until Victoria Neuman came forward, presenting Butcher with a secure and safe job at the FBSA. It was his ticket to take out supes without putting you or the baby in danger.
Things were good for you and Butcher, and all you had to do now, was wait for the arrival of your son. Never had you seen Butcher so happy and excited for something. Your pregnancy had brought forth a whole new man and you adored every last bit of it.
One morning you were in your son’s blue-painted nursery. Most of his things were already set up and ready for him, but you had bought a few extra things to put in the room. More furniture, toys, and clothes.
You were standing on a step ladder, screwing a hanging bookshelf into the wall. When you heard the front door open, followed by Billy’s heavy footsteps, you sighed softly. He hated it when you did things like this. He hated it when you strained yourself around the apartment. But to him, even standing up was straining yourself too much.
You focused on getting the bookshelf on the wall as you listened to Billy’s footsteps walking down the hallway and stopping in front of the nursery. “Oi, what the bloody hell are you doing?” He questioned.
You glanced at him over your shoulder, offering him a sheepish smile as you shrugged your shoulders. “I bought some things for his nursery.” You replied, even though you knew that wasn’t exactly what he was referring to. He looked like he was about to have a heart attack seeing you on the step ladder.
His gaze drifted over the few boxes and bags of purchased items that lay across the floor and he raised his eyebrows at you. “Some things? By that, you mean the whole fuckin’ store?” He asked as he stepped into the room.
“It’s not that much.” You replied with a shrug of your shoulders as you grabbed a second hanging bookshelf. They were both equally small, meant to only fit a small amount of lightweight books.
Butcher stepped forward when he saw you climb back onto the step ladder again and stretched out to angle the shelf perfectly in line with the first one. “You can’t put those things up yourself, luv.” He argued with a shake of his head.
“Why not?” You asked as you looked down at him with furrowed eyebrows. “I can reach them.” You said as you shrugged your shoulders again.
He sighed as he shook his head again. “Just because you can reach them, ain’t mean you should be putting them up.” He argued as he held a hand out, wanting you to hand him the small shelf.
“Billy, it’s fine.” You sighed with a shake of your head, not handing over the shelf. “I’m fine, he’s fine.” You assured as you placed your free hand against your stomach, offering Butcher a smile
Butcher pursed his lips as he motioned with his hand for you to give him the shelf. “Here, let me do it for you.” He insisted, his voice soft and gentle. He was always cautious around you, as you got further along in your pregnancy and you had absolutely raging hormones that could go from 0 to a fucking blood bath in mere seconds.
You sighed, shoulders slouching as you stared down into his determined hazel eyes. “You’re not letting me do this, are you?” You asked softly as your head tilted to the side.
He pushed his tongue around against the inside of his cheek as he gave you a firm shake of his head. “Not a fuckin’ chance.” He replied.
You let out an overly dramatic sigh as you nodded your head. “Fine.” You huffed as you handed him the shelf, he took it in one hand and pressed the other hand against your waist, his hold secure as you slowly stepped off the ladder.
He took your place and began screwing the shelf securely against the wall. You watched him for a few seconds with your hands resting on your hips. Then the box of the rocking chair caught your attention. You kneeled down and grabbed a boxcutter. Butcher didn’t pay you any attention, thinking you were cutting open smaller items to put together.
He stepped off the ladder when he was done with the shelf and turned to you. His face fell when he saw you putting together the rocking chair. “What the bloody hell are ya doing now?” He asked as he raised his arms up by his side, by now looking done with you.
“Putting together this rocking chair.” You replied with a shrug of your shoulders. “Got it for a fucking bargain and a half.” You informed him as you waved a hand through the air, a small smile tugging at your lips.
“Fucking hell, Y/n.” He sighed as he kneeled down on the ground next to you, taking away the large pieces of wood and sharp objects that lay around you.
Your eyebrows furrowed and a frown tugged at your lips as you stared at him. “Not, Billy I can do it.” You whined as you tried to grab the things back from him and both of you almost looked childish as he pushed it all out of your reach.
You huffed as you stared at Butcher, your frown deepening. He sighed and pursed his lips as he stared at you. “Go easy.” He pleaded as he reached out to place a hand on your swollen stomach.“You are carrying my child.” He reminded you. “Let me do this.” He pleaded.
“I’m pregnant, not fragile.” You replied softly as you placed your hand over his, giving it a gentle squeeze before you reached out, gripping onto the crib and pulling yourself up with a soft grunt.
“I ain’t takin the fuckin’ risk.” He replied with a shake of his head as he picked up a screwdriver to begin putting together the chair.  “Not with you, or this kid.” He said, pointing the screwdriver up at you and then towards your baby bump. You smiled softly as you stared down at him. You truly found this side of him endearing, even if it sometimes got overbearing how protective he was. “What you smiling about?” He asked as he quirked an eyebrow.
You shrugged your shoulders as your smile grew a little. “I like seeing you this way.” You replied softly as you absentmindedly rubbed your bump.
Butcher stared at you for a second before his gaze diverted down to the rocking chair and his eyebrows furrowed. “What way?” He asked in confusion.
“All protective, all smiley.” You replied softly as you reached your hand out to him. He took your hand and pulled himself up to his feet. While one hand wrapped around your waist, his other free hand rested against your bump, rubbing it softly. “Not looking for a reason to get yourself hurt.” You added softly as you sighed.
“I’ve told ya, I’m done with that shit.” He replied with a shake of his head. He was fine with his office job. Never did he want to go into the field again. Never did he want to be on the front lines of danger again. “I ain’t putting either of you in danger.” He said softly as his gaze flicked down to your stomach.
“I know.” You replied with a nod of your head as you reached up and cupped his cheek, your fingers brushing over his beard.  “Still, it’s nice to see this side of you.” You said softly before standing up on the tips of your toes and pressing a kiss to his lips. He kissed you back, his lips working softly against yours. You pulled away, offering him a pleading smile. “Now, can I help with my baby’s room?” You asked as you quirked an eyebrow.
Butcher pursed his lips as he stared down at you, still rubbing your stomach. “Let me take care of it.” He pleaded softly, his eyebrows slightly knitting together.
You sighed, loosely wrapping both arms around his shoulders. “It’s my baby too you know.” You reminded with a light hearted tone of voice.
"Well, we both made that baby." He replied as he lifted his hand from your stomach and pointed at the bump.
You playfully rolled your eyes and shook your head. "Don't remind me." You muttered with a teasing voice as you took a few steps back, running a hand over your bump.
Butcher’s eyebrows furrowed and his eyes squinted as he stared at you. “Is that regret I hear?” He asked in a lighthearted tone as his head cocked to the side.
You raised your eyebrows, a smile tugging at your lips as you slowly shook your head. “No.” You assured softly as he took a step closer to you again, his hands reaching out to hold onto your hips. “There’s no regret.” You assured him. “Not about you, and not about him.” You said before standing up on the tip of your toes again and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Butcher tried to deepen the kiss but you pulled away, giving him a shy smile. “I have to pee…” You whispered.
Butcher rolled his eyes as he bit back the smile that tried to tug at his lips. “Way to ruin the mood, luv.” He teased as he pulled away from you.
“Your son thinks my bladder is a trampoline.” You huffed as your lips pouted out into a frown and you turned around, slowly making your way towards the door.
“Should you be wearing those adult diapers?” Butcher questioned, a lopsided smirk tugging at his lips as he stared at you walk away, or as he’d like to comment on, waddled away.
You spun around, giving him a pointed look. “I will fucking kill you.” You warned as you pointed a threatening finger toward him.
Butcher chuckled, putting his hands up in defense. “Just asking.” He replied with a shake of his head. He watched you turn around and waddle out of the room, waiting before he called out after you. “I can go out a buy some.”
“Billy!” You snapped as you reached the bathroom and you could hear his low chuckle coming from the nursery. You let a small smile slip as you shook your head at him.
You and Butcher managed to finish the nursery together. All you were allowed to do was hand him things and put away the new clothes and toys. Most of your time was spent eating pieces of toast with melted butter. After that, you went to take a warm bubble bath and Butcher went to pick up dinner.
When you got out of the bathroom, Butcher had returned and you could smell the warm aroma of pizza coming from the kitchen. You waddled down the hallway, following the smell that made your stomach grumble. “Oh…is that pizza I smell?” You asked as you went into the kitchen.
Butcher let out a breath of amusement as he opened the pizza box. “Got the nose of a fucking police dog you.” He commented with a teasing voice as he wiggled a finger in your direction. He pulled out two plates, handing you one.
Like always, Butcher let you get the first serving, so he stepped back, watching as you placed slices of cheesy pizza on your plate. “I’m starving.” You sighed softly.
Butcher raised an eyebrow at you, his head tilting to the side. “You just had five slices of toast.” He reminded you as a small smile tugged at his lips.
“And now I’m gonna have five slices of pizza.” You replied with a sassy shrug of your shoulders as you returned his smile, taking a big bite of one of the slices already.
“Brought you  a diet coke too.” He informed you as he pointed towards one of the two diet cokes next to the pizza box before he filled his own plate with a few slices of pizza.
“Thank you.” You replied, placing a kiss on his bearded cheek before grabbing your diet coke and heading to the living room. Butcher followed after you and you both made yourselves comfortable on the couch.  You rested your plate on your lap, moaning softly in delight as you ate your pizza. There was a bit of silence between the two of you, but you interrupted it with a sharp gasp when your son kicked you hard and your hand shot down to your stomach. “Oh-”
If you were a supe with super hearing, you would have heard Butcher’s heart drop. He immediately set aside his plate of pizza and turned his attention to you. “What? What is it?” He asked as he placed a protective hand against your stomach.
You gasped as your son began kicking more and more. “He’s kicking a lot right now.” You uttered and Butcher let out a sigh of relief as he briefly closed his eyes. You took hold of his hand and moved it to where your son was kicking.  “Here.” You whispered.
The smallest smile tugged at Butcher’s lips at the feeling of his son’s kicks beneath the palm of his hand. “Fuck…I’ll never get over this feeling.” He whispered softly. You let out a grunt as the tiny kicks on one spot started to become sore. Butcher gave you a worried look before turning to your stomach, rubbing soothing circles against the spot. “Alright lad, calm down.”  He spoke softly to your bump. “You kick and your mum gets pissy with me.” He teased.
“I will throw you with a slice of pizza.” You warned Butcher with a pointed side eyes as you picked up a slice of pizza as a threat.
Butcher scoffed in amusement as he pulled away and sat back in his seat. “We both know you ain’t wasting a good fucking slice of pizza.” He said as he pointed a finger down at your pizza.
You rolled your eyes, knowing he was right. “Fine.” You huffed with a shake of your head. “I’ll throw you with something else.” You told him.
Butcher’s gaze shot down towards your stomach. “See what I mean?” He asked your bump as he quirked an eyebrow.
You huffed, placing a hand over your stomach as you scowled at Butcher. “Billy, you’re asking for it.” You warned him and he let out another chuckle.
He finished his food first and put his plate down on the coffee table before he turned to you. “Wanna put a movie on?” He asked as he raised his eyebrows at you.
“Yeah.” You replied with a nod of your head as you munched on your pizza. “Let’s watch something scary.” You suggested and the two of you shared a smile. You had both always been suckers for scary movies and it was one of the many interests you shared.
Butcher put on a movie before shifting on the couch, getting into a comfortable position of half lying and half sitting. “Come here.” He called out as he spread his arm out and you set your pate aside as you scooted back, laying against his side as his arm wrapped around you and his hand protectively rested against your bump.
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half-oz-eddie · 4 months
Text
Imagine Heather blocking the Karen and Billy interaction
She asks Karen impolitely to stop distracting the lifeguard while he's on duty, then waits for her to walk away.
Billy scoffs, chuckling a bit. "Jealous, Heather?"
"Please, you're hardly my type. But you haven't even lived in this town a whole year. Do you really wanna get caught up in a cheating scandal with Karen fuckin' wheeler?" She questions, popping her gum.
He cocks his head, shooting her that mischievous smirk of his. " I don't mind shaking this boring ass town up a little. If the woman wants to engage in some...extracurricular activities, who am I to say no?"
Heather answers him with a dramatic eye-roll. "Luckily I'm here to say no for you. Now keep your eye on the pool. Maybe we can go to Scoops later if you behave yourself."
"O—"
"Before you even say anything, no! It's not a date!" She points a finger. "The person I'm into works at Scoops."
Billy laughs obnoxiously. "Oh, god, don't tell me you're into Harrington, of all people."
"Ew, no. He's more your type."
Billy's little smile fades in an instant. "He's—no!"
Heather grins at him. "Look at you! You've always got a line for everything, but the moment I say Steve's your type, you get all flustered."
"No, it's—"
"Shut uuup. You've been clinging to that stupid high school rivalry for too long. You won't shut up about him anytime someone brings him up. You're obsessed. Maybe in love, even."
"Don't take it that far!" Billy argues.
"Just do your job, okay? You know Ellen's got one foot out the door here, so don't get in trouble." She waves before walking off.
Billy stands by the pool, clenching his fists, wondering to himself how the hell he let Heather call him out like that.
Maybe she's right, he thinks...
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