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thatgirlwithasquid · 3 days

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Dear Moor Monster of Mine - Chapter 2

7,268 words || read on ao3

Have thought about posting the next chapters of this fic to tumblr for a lil while but talked myself out of it. Finally decided to screw that cause this is my fic and I'm proud of it... even if I still haven't gotten around to finishing that last chapter (whoopsie!)

You can read chapter 1 on tumblr or ao3

---

“What do you mean you’re not going to come in and do anything?” Steve scoffs as his mam pulls up to the front of the school.

“I mean exactly what I said,” she answers, not even looking at him as she slows the car to a stop.

Steve doesn’t reach for his door handle, instead turning to look at his father incredulously. He leans into the front of the car to force his attention when the man simply looks back at him impassively.

“Don’t expect me to fight back against your mother, we both know who’s in charge here.”

“But you agree with her?”

“Of course I do!”

His mam reaches across to pat his arm with a smile.

“Right answer. We’ve told you, Steve, you just have to go into school like normal today. We’ll sort this.”

“By ignoring him being here on our territory—?”

“By going to his pack, not harassing a fifteen year old boy at school,” his mam cuts him off, voice stern with finality.

“Besides,” his dad soothes, playing mediator, “what would it look like if two grown adults walked into a school to have a stern chat with a kid they don’t know?”

Steve huffs, snatching up his bag and letting the topic lie. He guesses he sees their point, but he still isn’t a fan of this. The idea of leaving this be for now doesn’t fully appease him; they don’t even know who Billy’s pack are, who knows how long it’ll take to track them down to talk to. Sure, Hawkins isn’t the biggest place, but there’s still enough people here for that to be a daunting enough task.

He tries to shrug the discontent off. It feels weird, knowing he’s going to walk into that building and share the space with some other wolfblood that isn’t his family.

“Hey,” his mam says as he reaches for the door.

She crooks a finger and Steve leans back over with a sigh to let her peck him on the cheek. His dad claps him on the shoulder before he leans back, offering him a smile, and then Steve slips out of the car.

Behind him the front window rolls down for his mam to call out a final: “You just be sure to keep your distance from that kid, okay?”

And then the car rolls on away, making room for the next car to pull in and drop off their kids.

“Alright, Steve?” Jonathan asks, jogging to catch up with him as he heads inside.

“Yeah,” he sighs, “I just got a lecture.”

Jonathan sucks in a wince between his teeth, offering Steve a sympathetic look. Together they walk into class, Steve letting Jonathan lead the conversation towards lenses and other things photography related that Steve will never understand, no matter how many times his friends try to explain it to him.

They get into form early and settle down in their seats, greeting Nancy and Barb who are already there.

Cool light spills in through the windows next to their desks, the grey sky not darkening the morning in the slightest, even as the unbroken sky of grey makes for a dreary sight. Steve shrugs his coat off his shoulders to hang over the back of his chair, the waterproof fabric crinkling loudly as he does.

“Looks like it’s going to rain. Are we still planning on going out later?” Jonathan asks them.

“A little rain never killed anyone,” Nancy answers. “We can walk over to Benny’s after school.”

Barb approves of the plan and Steve shrugs his approval. Maybe this is what he needs. The smell of rain might wash away the traces of unfamiliar wolfblood scent so that he can do as everyone keeps asking and mind his own business.

“Hey, Nance,” Steve asks, “you’re still going to help me come up with a homework plan at lunch, right?”

She smiles at him, nodding in agreement before turning to start chatting with Jonathan instead. Barb nudges him, smiling, and he turns to talk to her instead.

“I wouldn’t have expected you to be so on it. Wasn’t it you who kept distracting Nancy from studying last year.”

“Yeah, well,” Steve dismisses, too fond of Barb to be insulted by her, admittedly, fair assessment of his work ethic, “last year wasn’t GCSE year.”

Besides, he’s trying not to be the same person as he was last year. That means putting more time into his schoolwork than hanging around with assholes like Tommy and Carol. He doesn’t even know what they wasted their time doing but back then it had felt like he never had time for homework. Now it’s different.

Different friends bring different expectations and free time. He doesn’t want to end up being that one friend relying on the others for help studying every time mock exam period rolls around. No matter what, he wants to show them he’s trying, and taking homework seriously is a good start for that.

It’s something the teachers will surely appreciate too. All of his homework last year was either handed in last minute or hastily scribbled in while clowning around with Tommy. Safe to say, he hadn’t really set any high expectations for himself; maybe that’s why he got his fair share of detentions.

Actually, that’s probably where half their free time had gone. It would explain his sudden abundance of it since cutting Tommy from his life.

Slowly but surely, the class fills out. A few final students shuffle in just before the second bell, and then Mrs Click starts on the morning register.

—

Steve actually is trying to mind his own business, but keeping his distance from Billy proves even harder than he had been expecting. Sure, he’d have to deal with being in the same form group as the guy, but for the rest of school he could more-or-less steer clear. With the benefits of wolfblood senses, that should have been a piece of cake, especially since it wasn’t like they had sat next to each other in any classes so far.

That is until their first PE class of the year. Because of course luck couldn’t just be on his side for this; they ended up being put into the same group.

“Right,” the PE teacher calls out to the group. “Can I trust you kids to pick your own teams or do I have to pick for you?”

The chatter dies down as attention snaps to them as they give the boys a warning look. They all get the message that they will be taking no nonsense. With GCSEs taking priority, general PE classes are a welcome reprieve from the serious teaching and stress of teachers reminding them all of what’s coming at the end of the year. Even a group of rowdy boys like this are willing to quiet long enough to form their own groups.

Playing it safe, Steve settles himself on the team away from Tommy; it doesn’t seem like a wise move to be on a team with someone who hates his guts. As seems fitting considering Tommy and Billy’s fast forming friendship, doing so puts him against Billy as well.

He’s not really sure if that’s a good or bad thing. Being on opposite teams at least puts a bit more distance between them rather than if they had to work together… But with the way Tommy jeers at him as Steve pulls on a red bib and Billy’s eyes snap over to him, dark with competitiveness, maybe this isn’t the best either.

Steve tries his best to ignore it.

They end up playing football, which the majority of the boys seem content with. Ominously, Billy seems to settle into a silent preparedness.

Steve gets himself set up for the game to begin, around him others do the same. It’s nothing serious, just a way to let loose some pent up energy, and Steve almost relaxes into it. That’s when their paths cross.

He’s playing midfielder, halfway down the blue-bib team’s side of the pitch, keeping his eye on where he’s dribbling the ball, when something solid collides with his side. It sends him stumbling. By the time he rights himself, Billy has sent the ball back towards Steve’s team’s goal and is sending a smug smirk his way.

Great.

The guy’s encroaching on territory that doesn’t belong to him and he’s an asshole.

Throughout the class, Steve does his best to keep away from Billy, but there’s only so much to do when Billy is playing defence on the opposite team. Every time Steve looks up, there he is. It heightens the sinking realisation that, until his parents chase his pack out of Hawkins, he’s going to be feeling like this constantly.

In every class, at every lunch, maybe even outside of school if he’s unlucky. So far Billy seems the type to show up where he’s least wanted to rub in his presence. The guy is obnoxious and unignorable. No matter how hard he tries, Steve just can’t seem to keep his eyes off him for long.

By the time the teacher blows their whistle to mark the end of the lesson, Steve is sweaty, worn out and ready to go home already.

They all file into the boys�� changing rooms, quickly rinsing off under the showers before changing back into their uniforms. Steve’s shrugging his shirt on when Tommy sits himself down, obnoxiously, on the bench next to where Steve is dressing.

“Oh, how the mighty do fall, Harrington.”

“The hell do you want, Tommy?” Steve hisses back, starting on his buttons.

“Nothing, man,” he responds, not too convincingly.

“It’s just not your day,” Billy joins in, victorious smirk still firmly in place, as he sets up his bag beside Tommy and starts dressing.

Tommy snorts.

“Yeah, not your year either, is it? How’s it feel hanging around the guy that stole your girlfriend every day?”

The changing room reeks of the swirling spray of at least twelve different deodorants and the stale sweat clinging to hastily tucked away PE kits. That’s what Steve tries to focus on as he rifles through his bag for a water bottle. Not Tommy and whatever rubbish the other guy lets spill from his mouth, and definitely not Billy watching from over his shoulder with a raised brow. They might linger in the corner of his periphery, but it doesn’t matter.

“Y’know, I bet they’re getting real cosy right now. I saw them getting permission to skip this period, how much do you wanna bet they’re getting cosy off somewhere alone again?”

Steve’s eyes dart to Tommy against his will.

They didn’t tell him that they were going to do that. Something on his face must give that away because Tommy grins.

“Oh shit, you don’t even know.”

With a cackle, he shoulders his bag and strides out of the changing room, not leaving room for Steve to get the last word in. Not that Steve would want to. He just bites the inside of his cheek as he unscrews the lid of his drink.

It doesn’t matter. Him and Nancy are over, and she wasn’t cheating on him last year. He just wishes he didn’t care about the jibe in spite of that.

Tommy has always been a bit of a dick, even when they were friends. With his parents going off somewhere Steve couldn’t explain once a month, Tommy used to come up with some pretty colourful theories of his own: that his parents had secret other families that they were keeping from Steve; that Steve was a secret lovechild they could only see some of the time; and, his favourite, that one of Steve’s parents was a dirty cheater that the other had to keep an eye on.

Being on the wrong end of teasing about possible cheating for so long got old really quick. It didn’t matter that Steve knew, without a slither of a doubt, that it was all bullshit, it still got to him.

“Don’t worry about it, man,” Billy’s voice says, cutting through Steve’s thoughts.

He leans one arm up against the changing room coat hooks and levels Steve with another one of his taunting looks. It makes Steve want to punch him.

“Pretty boy like you’s got nothing to worry about, plenty of bitches in the sea.”

Steve refuses to give Billy the satisfaction of meeting his eye.

What the hell did Billy think he was doing saying shit like that, goading a wolfblood whose territory you’re trespassing on? All Steve can do is grit his teeth and bear it, because that’s what his parents had told him to do. He hates it. He hates that his parents are treating him like he’s some pup just cause he hasn’t had his first transformation yet, and he hates that this asshole can just walk up to him with that shit-eating grin and talk down to him without Steve being able to do anything about it.

The guy even has the nerve to lean right into his personal space, clapping him on the shoulder and marking his scent all over Steve’s school clothes. Steve freezes, body taught with a rage that the other just ignores. Instead, Billy grabs his school bag and swaggers out, tie hanging undone around his neck.

“Hargrove, tie!” Steve can hear one of the teachers scolding before he snatches out his spray to drown out the guy’s scent.

—

When lunchtime rolls around, Nancy is nowhere to be seen. Neither, as it so happens, is Jonathan. Something ugly and green curls around his gut as Steve sits there in the cafeteria, nudging his half-empty bag of crisps half-heartedly.

Across the room, Steve’s hearing can pick up Tommy and Carol snickering at where he sits, alone. It makes him wish he had asked Barb to stay with him while he waited instead of assuring her that she was fine to leave him while she did some research for her beast in the dark room. At the time he’d wanted nothing less than to hear her go on about monsters, but now he’d happily take that discomfort over this humiliating loneliness.

The doors to the room swing open and Steve’s eyes dart over there again, hoping against hope to see Nancy walking over to help him with his homework plan like they had agreed. He doesn’t. Instead, in struts Billy Hargrove.

One day. His parents told him to keep his distance for one day and yet, everywhere Steve looks, there he is.

Blue eyes snap to his and Billy—the arrogant, trespassing bastard he is—fucking winks at him.

It’s about at that moment that Steve gives in. It’s been fifteen minutes; lunch is nearly halfway over and there hasn’t been any sign of Nancy or even Jonathan. Neither of them have even texted him, so Steve’s holding little hope that they even remember that he’s waiting there for them. He’s not gonna sit here, overhearing all of the jibes thrown his way, waiting for someone who isn’t going to show.

He snatches up his crisps and heads out of the room, the doors closing with a satisfying thud behind him. At first, he really has no direction in mind, just walking for the sake of walking, but then he catches sight of a familiar head of brown curls.

“Henderson!” he calls out, striding up to the kid. “What’re you doing all by yourself?”

The kid shoots him an embarrassed grin.

Steve doesn’t mind Dustin, the kid seems alright and warmed up to him pretty quickly after he and Nancy broke up. Him and his group seem to spend their time split between each other’s houses, more often than not ending up at the Wheelers’ place. It ends up with Steve getting stuck keeping an eye on them all alongside Nancy whenever they’re all around there at the same time.

He’d begrudge it more if the kids weren’t actually kind of okay. Mike is annoying and Will is a bit shy, but Lucas and Dustin are actually pretty great.

“I got lost.”

Steve huffs a laugh but decides to help him find his friends without any teasing. He remembers his own first-week nerves, as long ago as that seems now. If he was still the same person he was last year, Steve would probably have just laughed along with Carol and Tommy at the little Y7s getting lost on their way to class. It feels pretty good to realise how much he’s improved in such a short time.

The kids are hanging around outside the computer rooms, sitting up against the wall as they eat their lunches from boxes on their laps. It’s something Steve shakes his head at in amusement as he steps over Mike’s sprawled legs.

“You’re lucky there aren’t many people over here, or else you’d all be getting kicked by everyone walking by,” he tells them as he settles down on the opposite wall, Dustin taking up a seat against his side.

Mike wrinkles his face in annoyance but Steve pays it no mind, simply tilting his nearly-finished crisps over towards Dustin in offering. The kid happily sticks his hand in, emerging with practically a fistfull of them, crumbling to pieces in his grip.

“Dude…” Steve sighs mourning the loss of his lunch.

Lucas snorts.

“You get what you ask for.”

“Hey,” Steve says, brandishing his final crisp with playfully narrowed eyes, “I didn’t ask for that sass, Sinclair.”

“Your face asked for that sass,” Mike grumbles.

Steve decides only to let it slide because it makes Will laugh and he’s still working on getting that kid to open up to him.

“Thin ice, Mini-Nance,” he still warns and, with the look that puts on Mike’s face, Steve maybe gets why Mike likes him the least. “So, how’s your guys’ second day of year 7 going?”

That gets them to perk up and inwardly Steve sighs. Of course they’re enjoying school. He’s now doomed to being friends with nerds, and these ones don’t even have the benefit of being his own age.

Sometimes Steve really thinks he may have dug a hole for himself here.

“It’s been great—” Lucas starts.

“So great!” Dustin cuts in.

Even Will comes out of his shell at the chance to gush, offering a genuine: “There’s so much stuff for doing chemistry practicals, it’s awesome.”

“And there’s this new girl in our classes who didn’t go to our primary school,” Lucas tells him.

“I think she moved up from the south,” Will agrees.

“Who cares?” Mike huffs. “She’s not important. Our party already has an unwanted tag-along.”

“Ouch,” Steve says when Mike’s eyes dart pointedly over to him. “Point taken.”

“Hey, Steve’s cool,” Dustin stresses, and Steve maybe shouldn’t feel as pleased as he does by the sentiment. “Besides, have you seen Max? She’s awesome. Why wouldn’t we want a cool new girl in our group?”

The topic, annoyingly, only serves to send Steve’s own thoughts back to the new kid in his own class. He knows embarrassingly little about either of them. For all he knows, they might have come here together—they did both start at Hawkins High at the same time. Though, Steve hasn’t caught any hint of another wolfblood at the school other than himself and Billy.

With how quickly he picked up on Billy’s presence, he highly doubts he’d have missed another. Even if it had only been a day and a half, the new girl must be leaving trails of her scent all across the building and Steve hasn’t picked up on a singular thing so it seems highly unlikely.

Still, he doesn’t enjoy the topic purely on the basis that he doesn’t want to have to consider Billy in the slightest. He’s not going to let that guy drag down every moment of his life, not even for the short time he’s going to be sticking around.

“Let’s maybe not argue about that,” he uses as an excuse. “I don’t want to have to tell your sister that you were fighting with your friends.”

“Then keep it to yourself,” Mike mumbles petulantly.

Lucas laughs.

“Sure, like Steve could keep a secret to save his life.”

That makes Steve wince. Will shoots him a sorry look which he just waves away.

The kids keep bickering on for a while, friendly enough that Steve is content to lean back and let it all wash over him. Their lunches dwindle as they eat them between discussions about something to do with their last D&D campaign.

Steve really has no clue what they’re talking about with all of that, even though he was in the room for their last one. The Wheelers had gotten snacks for all the kids but made sure they were actually sharing. That left Steve and Nancy hanging out in the basement while the kids were playing. Didn’t mean that Steve listened to a word of it, and it’s not like any of it would’ve made sense if he had.

“Steve should join us next time,” Will says.

He says it pretty quietly, but it’s apparent that everyone else hears him given the way their chatter falls suddenly silent.

Steve would spend more time insulted by that reaction if he wasn’t already so flabbergasted by the fact that that suggestion came from Will in the first place. He really didn’t think the kid liked him that much. Or, okay, maybe he liked him fine enough because of that time he brought that box of ice lollies over to the Wheelers’ place for them—even Mike had somewhat warmed up to him after that—but Steve hadn’t thought the kid was that comfortable around him yet.

When the others just keep staring at him (Steve included), Will just shrugs unapologetically. Steve makes a mental reminder to sneak the kid some extra crap the next time he’s feeling affectionate enough to the party. He’d never have expected a Fab to earn him that much of Will’s respect.

Dustin has seemingly come back to his senses by now, because he’s begun nodding fiercely.

“Yeah, dude,” he grins, “that would be awesome.”

Even Lucas seems to like the idea a little.

“Seriously?” Mike complains, with a touch less petulance than Steve would have actually expected. Holy shit, does Mike actually secretly not hate him?

“Consider it this way,” Lucas offers. “We can laugh at him when he gets himself killed.”

“Hey,” Steve grumbles. “I haven’t even agreed.”

“Please?”

“Yeah, please Steve?”

“C’mon it’ll be fun.”

Steve sighs and resigns himself to a night of bullying from Y7s. What even is his life anymore? On the plus side, maybe if he’s worrying about dealing with these assholes he won’t be so disturbed by Billy being around.

It’s a long shot but, hey, a guy has to have hope.

When he turns away from the kid’s excited planning, wanting to head towards a water fountain and fill his bottle before last period, his eyes meet those of Nicole. She’s standing there, smirking down at the group's antics with an annoyingly superior look on her face.

Well, great. Just brilliant. Nicole is the biggest damn snitch in their year and there isn’t a single chance that she isn’t going to tell Carol about this. And Carol knowing about this means that, by tomorrow, Tommy will know about this.

It’s not that Steve is embarrassed to be seen around these guys—they’re great kids—but Tommy would never have let him live this down back when they were friends. Now that they don’t even have that marginal buffer between Steve and Tommy’s brutal teasing, Steve’s fucked.

With a subtle sigh of despair, he flops back against the wall. There’s no point in trying to catch up to Nicole’s disappearing back as she walks away; no bargaining with that girl will give him anything better than a bruised sense of dignity. Well, as flimsy as his dignity already with everything else considered.

He tries to enjoy the precious last few minutes of his lunch break in quiet acceptance.

—

By the time the final bell of the school day rings, Steve is just shy of having already been lined up directly at his classroom door. With the way Billy kept shooting him more and more frequent looks, Steve wasn’t willing to chance hanging around. It was like the guy was thinking about cornering him and, even despite knowing full well that he shouldn’t, Steve thinks he might have actually hit the guy if he tried something like that.

It’s easy enough to shrug his bag up onto his shoulder and get lost in the flow of kids rushing to finally escape from the building. Within a minute or two, Steve is already standing at the school gate and waiting.

His parents aren’t picking him up today since he already let them know he had plans, so instead he looks out into the coming swarms of other students for his friends. With any luck, it won’t take them too long to get out—the clouded-over sky from this morning has only darkened with a swell of soon-coming rainfall and Steve would very much like to avoid the beginnings of it.

It isn’t long before he spots a familiar head of ginger hair. Barb makes her way over to him, meandering through the flow of kids to stand beside him.

By the time they start exchanging concerned looks, it’s started spitting with rain. Steve’s hood is pulled up over his head, no doubt ruffling his hair into a real state, when he turns to Barb.

“Do we just… keep waiting?”

Barb shrugs helplessly at him.

“I can text her again to ask but I don’t know. I don’t know what would keep them behind. Did they say anything to you at lunch time?”

Steve shakes his head.

“They never showed.”

“Neither of them?”

“Neither of them,” Steve agrees. “Tommy mentioned that they’d gotten permission to skip third period, but that shouldn’t still have them doing stuff, surely.”

Barb swipes little droplets of rain from her phone screen and sends a third text, teeth worrying her lip between her teeth.

“I’m sure they’re fine,” Steve soothes. “Maybe her phone just died and so she can’t tell us about whatever’s holding her up. They could’ve just gone home sick?”

“Both of them?” Barb asks with incredulously raised brows. “They seemed fine this morning.”

Steve shrugs helplessly, unable to offer a better explanation. Truth be told, his fingers are twitching a little anxiously. He’s sure they’re fine… or he would be if there wasn’t that slight worry that this could be related in some way to the intruders on his territory.

Rationally, he knows nothing should be wrong there, not like this at least. It doesn’t matter how rude and standoffish Billy has been, wolfbloods at the end of the day are just people like everyone else. Just because he doesn’t like the guy doesn’t mean his family have gone and kidnapped two kids just because they’re friends with the current pack’s son. That would be deranged and, as every wolfblood knows, you can’t just go out and do things that would give away the secret.

It doesn’t stop that over-stressed part of his mind from worrying. Or maybe even hoping. Even if he and Nancy are over, he doesn’t want to think about her and Jonathan getting together, no matter how much sense that might make. It would explain their strange absence together, but the thought of it stings with a subtle sort of betrayal.

Barb’s phone chimes and she tilts the screen for Steve to see too. It’s a text from Jonathan’s number, but one that Nancy apparently sent:

Phone dead, sorry for the hold up. Head to Benny’s without us, we’ll catch you up -Nancy x

With that worry settled, Steve and Barb shrug off their anxieties the best they can and walk off down the path into town.

“So,” Barb asks him. “If you weren’t with Nancy, what were you doing all lunch?”

“Herding lost ducklings,” he shrugs, smirking and explaining: “Nancy’s brother and his friends” at Barb’s confused look.

“Good,” she says with a smile, “then I don’t have to feel so bad about abandoning you to yourself.”

“Awh,” Steve coos, wrapping an arm around Barb’s shoulders as they keep walking, “I knew you loved me.”

“Shut up,” she huffs with a roll of her eyes, batting Steve’s hand away. “You’re lucky I actually do.”

“Yeah, I am.”

His sappiness earns him an amused look.

“So,” she asks instead, blessedly not teasing him because Barb is a saint, “you know what you’re going to do when you get home?”

Steve shrugs, turning the corner and feeling thankful that it’s not too much further of a walk to the café from here. The rain is picking up now, tapping against the hoods of their coats. Steve can’t remember if Jonathan and Nancy brought coats today, but he hopes for their sakes that they did, or that they’re not far behind them if not.

“Having dinner with my parents, which will be thrilling. A proper family meeting.”

Barb shoots him a frown.

“What’s the occasion? Is everything okay?”

Steve lets out a huff of breath, determinedly not thinking about everything that’s going to be discussed this evening.

“Yeah, it’s fine, something just came up recently. Borning family stuff, nothing you need to worry about. How about you?”

“I’m going to go through all my photos from the moors. I know there’s something up there, Steve. That paw print means something. There has to be something more there, I just need to look harder.”

Steve’s face twitched with a suppressed cringe, but he listens dutifully as Barb goes over her plans of where to start and what she thinks her best guess of what her monster could be is. He wouldn’t have taken her as the type to believe in cryptids and folktales but she seems to have seriously considered a great number of things.

A better friend might have entertained her theories more, asking questions about what she’s telling him, but the best he can manage is his held breath and a silent prayer that the word ‘werewolf ’ never passes her lips.

It doesn’t seem to bother Barb that her audience is silent, just that he’s willing to listen at all. That makes him feel both sad and a little thankful at the same time, which only serves to raise more guilt inside him. It squirms like a living thing and there is no word for the immensity of his relief when the door to Benny’s is before them and they can duck inside.

That serves as the disruption necessary to quiet Barb’s rambling as they wander over to the counter and ask Benny for four hot chocolates to warm up from the cold rain. The warmth of them stings against Steve’s rain-cooled fingers through their cardboard cups. He hands over the money for them, ignoring Barb’s attempts to pay for half, and then they settle themself in a table by the window.

Barb sighs from between sips of her drink.

Against the glass, the rain begins to hammer down. For a moment, Steve just watches the droplets racing down the plane and thinks about how they’ll be washing everything clean. It would be nice to go out and run when the weather passes, basking in the petrichor and the way it brings out the smell of the woods stronger than ever, but that’s not wise right now.

Hiding his disgruntled expression, Steve takes a sip from his own drink and immediately hisses as the hot liquid burns the tip of his tongue.

“How are you just drinking that? This is boiling still.”

Barb just shrugs, taking another long gulp and Steve takes a moment to feel sorry for her internal organs cause surely drinking something that warm cannot be good for them.

“Don’t be dramatic,” she smiles at him, as if she can read his mind.

God, would Steve be fucked by now if she actually could.

The door opens with the chime of the shop bell and Nancy and Jonathan slip inside, dripping with rain.

Jonathan’s hair is plastered to his forehead when he slips into the seat across from Steve, grasping for his drink with a thankful expression. He doesn’t even raise it to his mouth, simply cradling it in his hands and leeching the heat away from the cardboard. Nancy, however, fairs a lot better, lowering the hood of Jonathan’s coat.

“It’s freezing out there,” Nancy winces, also taking her seat now.

“You’re more of a gentleman than me, Jonathan,” Steve laughs. He can’t help himself.

The guy looks like a drowned puppy, looking up with sad eyes at the dryness of Barb and Steve’s own clothes.

“Thanks again, Jonathan,” Nancy smiles, looking a little guilty but very appreciative. “I owe you.”

“You could cover the cost of his drink,” Steve suggests, and Nancy looks like she’s actually about to pull out her purse when Barb speaks up with an admonishing look in Steve’s direction.

“You didn’t make me pay,” she points out and Steve pouts.

“Well, now you’ve done it.”

Nancy shakes her head, amused, and tucks her purse back away.

“You’re an idiot, Steve,” she informs him with a fond look.

“So I’ve been told.”

Nancy just smirks and sips at her drink. Barb sends Steve a pointed look as if to say ‘see, it’s not too hot, you're just ridiculous’.

“So,” he asks instead, voice coming out impressively casual, “what kept you two so long anyway?”

“Ah, yeah,” Jonathan says with an embarrassed chuckle, “sorry we were so late.”

“We were talking to some year 8s about signing up for photography club. They saw us sticking up sign-up sheets at lunchtime and had some follow up questions.”

“We might have some new members,” Jonathan says to corroborate her story, a pleased little smile on his face.

Ah. Right. Steve schools his expression into a plastic smile, ignoring the way Barb sends him a quick little sorry look.

“So that’s where you were. I was wondering.”

Nancy’s face seems to suddenly drain of colour as she pops her cup back onto the table. She sends Steve her most sorry look, complete with pitiful wide eyes. If anything it makes him feel suddenly worse.

“Oh, crap! Steve, I’m so sorry. I completely forgot that I said I’d—”

“It’s fine, Nance,” Steve says quickly, cutting her off.

He doesn’t want to get into it. Really, he doesn’t. It’ll just remind him of the way she looked at him when they broke up, and Steve thinks he doesn’t quite love Nancy in that way anymore but it still hurts to be reminded.

He’s much rather just press on, sweep this all under the rug and act like everything is normal. He needs that, especially with every other chaotic aspect of his life right now. His friends are supposed to be easy, not be another source of stress. And maybe it’s a bit selfish to want other people to just be simple and how he needs rather than their own complicated selves, but he’s just already so tired.

“How did it go anyway? They the right kind of nerds for your loser club?”

Nancy seems relieved that he’s back to his usual self, giving him another one of those indulgent looks.

“Yes, they’re ‘the right kind of nerd’. They seem really nice.”

Jonathan nods his agreement.

“I hope they do sign up, it would be nice to have some new people around in the dark room with us.”

“Well, you have fun with the Y8s. I’ve apparently befriended your brothers and their friends, so I’ll be hanging around with them instead.”

“You did?” Jonathan smiles, always so openly affectionate when Will gets brought up.

Steve doesn’t think he’s imagining that flicker of gratefulness in his eyes, either. It’s been hard on him and his mam since Will was found, each of them worrying about how he’s doing after being lost out in the woods for days. His mam’s been taking it worse, but Jonathan’s been keeping a closer eye on him, too.

It occurs to Steve that he’s probably glad to find out someone else a bit more mature will be keeping an eye on him too. He thinks he might actually be okay with being that guy for him—it’s nice to be trusted so clearly.

Of course, because Steve can’t have a moment’s peace, when the door next opens Tommy strides in, followed by a grinning Billy Hargrove. Maybe Steve would hate the guy less if he didn’t look so pleased constantly, grinning in that obnoxious way he has. It just oozes tauntingness. He also might at least pretend he was less bothered by the guy if he wasn’t fucking everywhere Steve looked.

When Billy notices Steve glaring him down his smile widens, the prick.

Tommy delights in Steve being there too, laughing at him the second he sees him there.

“Look who it is,” he calls out. “I heard you were making friends with some year 7s today, Stevie. Are you really that desperate now? I really didn’t think you could sink any lower after...”

He trails off with a pointed look at his friends.

It should be ridiculous for him to have the gall to say that, half-drowned-looking himself from the rain. Billy’s fairing little better, blonde curls darkened by water and dripping from the tips to soak into the collar of his jacket and run in little lines like artificial tear-tracks down his stupid face. They really don’t make the best picture, certainly not enough for Tommy to be snickering at Jonathan’s state at any rate.

It makes Steve grit his teeth to avoid saying anything, instead glaring back at them with a malice he cannot suppress. Perhaps it should be surprising for him to see the irritated look Billy is giving Tommy behind his back, but it’s easy enough to brush off. If Billy really is so set on ruining Steve’s day then maybe he wanted to be able to jump on that opportunity to insult Steve and his friends instead of Tommy taking it for him.

Hell, maybe the guy is even just mad that Tommy went for such low-hanging fruit… again. Maybe Tommy being so predictable in his insulting Steve that it’s cramping Billy’s style. He should probably concede that it’s at least effective, though.

Apparently everyone can see the strained edge to how Steve sits, even as he tries to relax his body. Doing so just feels stiff and fake, like he’s a plastic action-figure with limbs that fall just shy of settling in a natural-looking sort of way.

“Just ignore them,” Nancy tells him, like it’s that simple.

Steve has been ignoring so much from Tommy for so long now, but it’s not so simple when Billy’s staring at him again. Those big blue eyes are so intense, locked onto his, framed by those long bambi lashes, speckled with stubborn drops of rain. He can feel his brows scrunch further as he glares back at him and something in Billy’s face twitched in annoyance at that.

It shouldn’t feel good to bother Billy back, even just a little, but fuck does it soothe just a tiny bit of his own indignation to see the way something closes off in the guy’s expression.

When he finally tears his eyes away from Billy, trying to just block those assholes out and go back to pretending that pretending this insult away is working, he sees the squirmy discomfort written on Barb’s face. Shit, right. Barb must have had more than enough crap from other kids already, she really doesn’t need any more heaped on her as collateral from Steve’s stupid little rivalry.

Something in his body-language must have softened when he took note of Barb, because Tommy snickers again like some caricature of an immature bully.

“Awh, you got yourself a new girlfriend? In love again are you, Steve? I gotta say, I didn’t think crazy was your type. Real downgrade here.”

Barb just ducks her head and Steve seethes. He reaches out under the table and squeezes Barb’s hand without breaking his gaze from the cup in front of him. If he looks anywhere else, he thinks he’ll scream or swear or do something else stupid like throw a punch at Tommy.

“I mean, Wheeler was one thing, but at least she didn’t run around telling people about the ghosties running around in the woods at night. I mean, seriously.”

From between his fingers, Barb pulls her hand away. He can practically feel the shame radiating off of her. That’s what does it. He can’t just sit here and take this, not when he’s as angry as he is now, hands clenched into trembling fists over his knees and ears ringing under the rush of rage.

Tommy can say whatever shit about him he wants, but Steve will not stand for him coming for Barb’s feelings like this. He won’t just let Tommy humiliate her, no matter how much Nancy wants him to play nice. He can see it in the angry set of her own jaw—even as she tries to drown out Tommy by talking with Jonathan like everything’s normal—that she’s nearly as mad as he is, but he knows Nancy will keep his head down and pretend it all away.

He won’t. Right now, it’s just all too fucking much. He smells the intruding scent of Billy, and Barb is upset, and their conversation is tense, and Nancy abandoned him for Jon again and—

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Tommy. No one gives a fuck what you think so you’re just being pathetic.”

That stuns Tommy silent for a moment. Next to him, Billy’s shoulders shake in silent laughter.

“What did you say to me?” Tommy finally manages.

Steve pushes to his feet, chair screeching out behind him.

“I said to piss off.”

“Oi, boys!” comes the annoyed yell of Benny from over at the counter. “Either quit it or take that outside, I’m not having that in here.”

Steve takes a steadying breath and tries not to feel suddenly embarrassed by his outburst.

Billy, on the other hand… Billy cackles.

“So there’s that King Steve I’ve heard so much about.”

He tries not to glance down at his friends, but he can’t help it. The look on Nancy’s face is ashamed, but it’s more than that… It's one that makes Steve think that she never had much faith in him in the first place. She seems almost resigned, like she knew, somewhere deep down where she tries to hide it, that Steve would let her down again.

His bag gets shrugged onto his shoulder and then he’s making his way towards the door.

“Steve, you don’t have to go,” Jonathan tries to call out but Steve waves him off.

“My parents want me home for dinner, anyway.”

He looks back at Barb and she nods. At least she looks a little thankful that he stuck up for her.

“I’ll call you later,” he tells them, shouldering past Tommy and Billy.

“Going so soon, Harrington?” Billy asks him. “We were just getting started.”

That’s not something Steve deigns to give an answer to. He just heads out into the downpour, listening through the thundering of rain on the ground as the door to Benny’s swings closed behind him, cutting off Billy’s voice.

In that moment, Steve decides that he truly hates Billy Hargrove.

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #wolfblood au #I did not realise quite how long chapter 2 had ended up until I put it into a word counter just now lmao #i apparently got quite into this one #fanfiction

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i-dont-want-your-hysteria · 2 years

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Caught Up In You (Joe x Reader)

((This short little idea initially came into my head in August of 2020 upon listening to the song I stole the title from/song in the fic... and just a brief bullet point of this idea proceeded to sit in my drafts for nearly 2 years until I started writing this in May. It's dumbassbitchboyfriend!Joe time!))

Words: 1,565

Summary: You and Joe have your first fight as a couple, and Joe, being the clown that he is, finds his own "Joe" way of apologizing...

-----

(1984, Dublin, Ireland)

"Joy, I'm not in the mood to go out!" you insisted for at least the fourth time as she tugged your arm, "I'm too pissed..."

"But I don't want to go alone!" Joy whined back, "If I go alone, someone might ask me to sing!"

"Well I don't know what you expect from karaoke night at the pub!"

She'd been trying to drag you off the couch and downtown for the past ten minutes. It wasn't exactly like her to do that, as you were normally the one to drag her, but the tables had already been turned just a bit today.

When she let go of your arm, she adjusted her shirt and suggested, "Mind you, I was trying to give you a girls' night, if you must know. You can't deny it's what you need right now after you and Joe had it out today."

Your shoulders slumped down by a smidgen. A pinch of guilt crept up on your expression and in your body language as well.

Joy was correct, alright; you did need a girls' night.

She knew your reason for denying her so many times in the first place was because of men. It was because of men, and how upset they made you. More specifically, it was your man who had you so hung up and steamed.

Despite knowing each other for years, you and Joe had never started dating until shortly after the end of the Pyromania tour a few months prior. With the whole band settled in Dublin trying to bring to the next album to fruition, it caused you and Joe to finally settle and grow romantically close to each other.

Everything felt new and wonderful, but with this new relationship came new milestones, too. Today's milestone? It was the first fight you and Joe had as a couple.

It was stupid- you both new it- but tensions were fresh, and you still felt the sting.

"But it's his fault-!" you burst at Joy again.

"Oh I know it is! But are you just going to stay here and be upset, or are you going to keep your chin up and strut away from him in a super sexy dress?"

Your eyebrows scrunched together at her argument. You hated to admit you already had a dress in mind.

"Alright, fine!" you flung your hands up and looked at the floor, "We'll go to the pub."

She clapped her hands once in victory, "There she is! Now come on, make yourself up like you want to show that lump what he can't have."

-----

Smoothing out the tight dress you put on, you and Joy happily strutted up to the pub as the sun descended in the distance. For the first time all day, you actually felt excited and happy. With Joy kicking your feminine energy into power, you felt much more confident and not at all hung up and guilty; you felt nothing short of unstoppable.

And then Joy stopped you.

"What?" you halted yourself as she swung her arm out in front of you.

She appeared to be listening to the inside of the pub, but staring off into space.

"I thought I heard something," her face remained still and neutral, "-never mind."

"By the way, I wanted to thank you for getting me out of the house. I really do need some time with more... females, I suppose."

Your companion had a brief flash of something in her eyes that almost looked like guilt as she reached for the door, "Yeah, sure thing. Anytime, mate."

She opened the pub door, the sound of the karaoke already surrounding both of you.

As you strolled in with a smile on your face, one look inside was all it took for it to vanish.

"What are you guys doing here?" you asked the four Leppards.

"We're watchin' karaoke night!" Sav motioned to the stage.

When your eyes looked over to the stage in reference, you saw a tall man hop onto it from the side. In a flash, you realized you hadn't seen Joe in the group where he would normally be found.

At the same time, you realized you'd been duped. It was no wonder why Joy wanted to get you out of the house so bad, just as it was no wonder why she was listening outside the pub- and just as it was no wonder why Sav made you look at the stage when he did.

It was all carefully timed so you would be standing right where you were when Joe started to sing to you.

"I never knew there'd come a day," now on the stage, Joe bopped his hips from side to side, "When I'd be sayin' to you-"

You were only a few feet in front of the stage, so it was easy for Joe to direct his act to whoever was in the front row. In the few seconds you were in the pub for, Joy had somehow made sure that the front row was you.

"'Don't let this good love slip away, now that we know that it's true'-"

Your mouth fell open in surprise and frustration. Rolling your eyes, you looked back at Joy, watching her avoid eye contact and laughter.

The only thing you supposed you could've done at that point was heave a heavy sigh and continue to watch Joe with annoyance still on your face.

"Don't, don't you know the kind of man I am? No- said I'd never fall in love again-"

He strutted and acted as if he was really playing a show, but on a much smaller scale (and with a southern rock song that was most certainly not up his alley). It was very clear he was trying to get you to forgive him through song and humor.

But it wasn't going to work; it was too stupid. It was too hilarious. He looked like an idiot.

He was making a fool of himself for you, and it was your weakness.

Joe even further proved this as he stretched his arm to motion to you, "But it's real, and the feeling comes shining through- I'm so caught up in you, little girl!"

It was the chorus that broke you. He pointed right at you, and fuck, you couldn't fake being mad anymore. You let out a scoff and started to laugh at him quietly. Hell, you even started to move to the music with him a bit.

"And I never did suspect a thing- so caught up in you-" Joe flicked his hips to the side at you like some kind of bad David Lee Roth impersonator, "-little girl!'

The other Lepps and patrons in the pub whooped and cheered him on, and you pinched the bridge of your nose with embarrassment. This was Joe's own form of an apology, you concluded. He knew just how to press your buttons to get you to see it, too.

"That I never wanna get myself free- and baby it's true, you're the one who caught me, baby, and taught me how good it could be..."

He'd suddenly leaned down to you and carefully tilted your chin up towards him, caressing your jaw briefly before straightening back up to continue his "show". It was at that point you could no longer hide a bashful smile because god, you were so caught up in him. You couldn't help but love whenever he acted like a complete dork.

"It took so long to change my mind, I thought that love was a game..."

In terms of dorkiness, your boyfriend had somehow hit an all-time high. With his impromptu dancing and fake womanizer attitude on that tiny stage in front of everyone at the pub, you didn't know how he'd ever top it.

"I played around enough to find no two are ever the same- you made me realize the love I missed, so hot, love I couldn't quite resist-"

You puckered your lips and kissed the air in front of you, both proud of and embarrassed by your idiotic rockstar of a lover. He jokingly "caught" the kiss you blew at him by patting his cheek flirtatiously.

Despite Joe being a complete dumbass at the moment, it was unlawful how cute he was while doing do.

You knew Joe, and knew he wouldn't choose just any song if he was going to apologize via music. He wasn't one to be cheesy in that sense; he was always sincere and wouldn't ever make music tell a lie. Not only that, but no one had ever proclaimed their feelings for you like this before. That's how you knew Joe meant it.

"When it's right, the light just comes shining through..." Joe playfully winked at you. The words he borrowed from the song were the ones you completely understood; the irrelevant fight from earlier was water under the bridge.

Turning to Joy, you asked, "So, any other surprises for me tonight? Besides tricking me into watching my boyfriend sing southern rock?"

She giggled and looked over at you, "Just wait until the others join him for the harmonies."

"Wait- the what?" you barely had time to get the words out before the other four Leppards began standing up.

"Oh my god-" you framed your reddening face with your hands, "I'm banning all of them from karaoke night after this."

---

(Caught Up In You by 38 Special) (playlist of all songs I've used in my fics)

#def leppard #I HAVEN'T POSTED A FIC SINCE DECEMBER OOP #i haven't had motivation to write for months don't ask me why but i didn't wanna force it #THE NEXT COUPLE FICS ARE ALL JOE ONES I'M SORRY I PROMISE THERE'S A SAV ONE IN THE WORKS #def leppard fanfic #joe elliott #joe elliott fanfic #joe elliott x reader #def leppard x reader #original content #fun fact this song is one of the first songs i can ever recall hearing #fun fact number 2: when I say joe playfully ''caught'' the kiss the reader blows at him #phil lewis AKA the lead singer of Girl (the band Phil used to be in) and LA Guns did that to me irl #i STILL can't believe it #i was like ://O #I CAN'T BELIEVE I FINALLY WROTE THIS IT'S BEEN IN MY HEAD FOR SO FUCKING LONG #AND EVERY TIME I HEARD THIS SONG OVER THE PAST 2 YEARS THIS WAS ALL I COULD THINK OF #FINALLY

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justabookworm39 · 1 year

Text

Price of Knowledge (Whumpay fanfic)

@whumpay Day 4: Gore

Inscryption, Luke Carder-centric

Warnings: EYE TRAUMA HOLY SHIT. Eye trauma, gross sensory stuff relating to eye trauma (bone scraping and squishy stuff, etc.), torture, sensory overload (mainly that Thing where you’re in so much pain you can’t talk or think), non-graphic vomiting at the end. Also spoilers for the main game of Inscryption.

Notes: The uh. Eyeball sequence in Act 1. That’s all I have to say.

(I haven’t started Kaycee’s Mod yet so don’t spoiler it I swear to god-)

---

Everything went red.

His body curled in around itself, as if trying to get away from the pain. He wasn’t even able to scream, just barely able to force himself to breathe. The smell of copper flooded his nose, the stream barely touching the side of his mouth and a few tiny disgusting drops crossing his lips. The hand clenching the knife trembled, and he faintly heard something hit the floor with a wet *plop*.

“Good.” The phantom shape of a person stood on the other side of the table, speaking to him with a calm and airy voice. “Now the other one.”

“…What?” He struggled to lift his head, could barely make his eye focus in the darkness.

“The other eye.”

For a long moment, he just stared up at her, trying to form a coherent response, or even a coherent thought, through the pain. This wasn’t right, he shouldn’t need to– where was he even, this wasn’t the cabin, what was going on–

“Mr. Carder, please don’t make this difficult.”

Something about hearing his own name jolted him awake, and he knew he wasn’t just trapped in the game, this was something else. The knife fell from his grip, clattering against the table. That seemed to draw her focus.

As it did, he swiped his hand, throwing the knife aside and forcing himself to his feet as fast as he could, even as it made his head spin. He stumbled backwards a step and a half before a hand grabbed at his scalp, nails digging into skin. Glaring at the figure leaning over the table, he just barely spat out, “Go fuck y–”

The side of his head slammed into the table, rattling the empty socket and making him bite his tongue. No matter how he pushed against the tabletop, he couldn’t pry himself from under her grip as she lifted the knife–it looked to be the same knife, which made no sense because she never bent down to get it–

It hurt so much worse the second time.

The first time, it hadn’t felt real. It had felt like when he’d gotten his wisdom teeth removed, where it was just the shifting movement and the pressure but none of the pain. The pain hadn’t kicked in until it was over, and at that point it was a simple all-encompassing pain.

This wasn’t like that.

He felt the blade being shoved past the skin and bone at the edge of his eye, scratching against the inside of his skull. It cut the eyeball itself as it did, slicing into the soft tissue by complete accident and sending another trickle of blood down his nose.

He felt the pressure as the knife made its way to the back and was pushed, attempting to pry the eyeball from the socket. The hand on the top of his head pressed down, holding his skull as still as it could.

(And again, he couldn’t scream. He could just gasp and whimper, one hand briefly clawing at the arm of his attacker and trying to throw it off of him.)

He felt the tugging. He hadn’t even noticed the nerve the first time, but he did now, felt the last thing connecting his eye and his face being pulled taut. The pressure on the eye and his head let up, but only long enough for a hand to reach for his face and–

He felt a slight squeeze on his eyeball. He felt the briefest cutting sensation.

His body was carelessly tossed to the floor. He let out a tiny yelp of pain, hands instinctively reaching to cover and protect the open sockets. The mix of blood and jelly-like fluid smeared on his palms, and his head being forced sideways meant that it now coated two-thirds of his face. Every time he tried to scream his throat seemed to close up, what little noise he made probably going unheard by the figure standing over him.

“Let that serve as a lesson.” Another *plop*, this one right next to his head, and he recoiled away from it. It was followed by the sound of metal hitting the floor, probably a few feet away. “Don’t go looking where you’re told not to.”

---

The feeling of cold metal on his forehead did little to ground him.

Luke heaved again, but nothing came out this time. His arms trembled as he braced himself against the bathroom counter, and he’d resorted to resting his head against the running faucet. He hadn’t been sleeping well for a few nights, and he didn’t really have waking up from a nightmare needing to puke in him.

One hand traveled up his face, gently pressing at the dark bag under his eye. He could still feel the curve of something round beneath the skin, something resisting the light pressure he put on it. It was still there. Not that he should’ve needed to check, it should’ve been pretty damn obvious if it was gone. But instinct was instinct, he supposed.

He really needed to quit digging into that game. It seemed to be messing with his head.

Luke finally raised his head and saw his own half-asleep reflection. He stared at it for a while, holding his breath. Then, he slammed one hand on the counter and screamed.

He screamed the way he’d tried to in the nightmare. He screamed to let out the stress of the past several days, of countless rabbit holes and dead ends. He screamed for everything that sat in his chest, every minor annoyance at his day job and every loose shred of grief that you could argue led him to this point.

When he was done–when it finally died in his chest–he slammed his hand against the counter a second time, sucking in a deep breath. “Fuck… fuck.” He gagged, and he doubled over the sink again as he spat up a mouthful of bile. A cough rattled his chest, and he wiped his forehead.

He’d revisit this again in the morning. Maybe he’d throw that game out, maybe he’d decide that whatever this was would just continue until he reached the end. But for now, he needed to sleep.

#my writing #whumpay2023 #fanfic #inscryption #inscryption fanfic #luke carder #eye horror #ask to tag #was gonna be like 'yeah obviously I'm a luke carder enjoyer have you seen-' but I haven't. actually posted the 'fics I was gonna point to.#trust me if you've seen the horror series rambling I was doing late last year then you KNOW that this. checks out #daniel mullins handed me a dumbass (/affectionate) horror protag poking where they shouldn't #followed up with 'enthusiastic over his interests' 'annoyed with the weird happenings' and 'polite while asking folks for info'#and THEN capped it off with 'he started doing YouTube to cope with the grief of losing his sister who was his card game buddy'#WHILE I WAS PLAYING THIS WITH MY OWN SISTER NEARBY TO HELP WITH THE PUZZLES I WAS TOO DUMB FOR #I like this guy A Lot. so of course I had to be mean to him.#what no I didn't scream a bit myself when I found out what the dagger did what are you talking about haha....

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