keaganz
keaganz
Unhinged shipper
516 posts
35+, She/Her, but really, any pronouns are fine. Aegosexual/GrayAce. Multi shiper for multiple fandoms.
Last active 2 hours ago
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keaganz · 2 hours ago
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Chapters: 43/? Fandom: Supernatural, The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead, The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester/Daryl Dixon/Rick Grimes, Daryl Dixon/Rick Grimes, Daryl Dixon/Sam Winchester, Andrea/Michonne (Walking Dead), Lori Grimes/Shane Walsh, Maggie Greene/Glenn Rhee, Rick Grimes/Sam Winchester, Daryl Dixon/Lucifer (Supernatural) Characters: Sam Winchester, Daryl Dixon, Rick Grimes, Carl Grimes, Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Carol Peletier, Glenn Rhee, Merle Dixon, Crowley (Supernatural), Bobby Singer, Gabriel (Supernatural), Philip Blake | The Governor, Lucifer (Supernatural), God | Chuck Shurley Additional Tags: Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Omegaverse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Omega Daryl Dixon, Alpha Rick Grimes, Alpha Sam Winchester, Alpha Dean Winchester, Alpha Carl Grimes, Beta Castiel (Supernatural), Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Daryl is Carl’s Mom, Insecure Daryl Dixon, Protective Sam Winchester, Protective Rick Grimes, Mating Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Pre-Relationship, Past Child Abuse, Past Violence, Found Family, Past Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Hellhounds, Double Penetration, Anal Sex, Polyamory, Angel Powers (Supernatural), Physical Abuse, Mpreg, Harm to Children, Wendigo, child birth, Crossroads Deals & Demons, Protective Crowley Series: Part 5 of Omegaverse Alpha Beta Omegas, Part 1 of TWD/Supernatural Crossover (SuperDead) Summary:
When the dead start rising and the bodies pile high Rick Grimes knows he needs to call the Winchesters to join his group. To keep his mate and pup alive Rick will do whatever it takes. Sam Winchester had never seen himself having a mate, but when he first met Daryl Dixon saving his life and the unborn pup he was carrying Rick had told him if he wanted to claim his mate he had him.
Daryl doesn’t want to be seen as just an Omega, as just a toy to alphas. He isn’t weak, he isn’t typical.
To keep their pack alive through the topsy-turvey world of monsters and walkers Rick and Daryl will do whatever it takes, and that includes Daryl taking two mates to hide his scent the best he can. What will happen when they continue on as a family, as a pack. How will they handle losing lives, how will they handle knowing that living people can be worse than the monsters and the dead?
Will Sam and Rick be able to keep their mate and pup alive?
Will Daryl be able to prove he is more than just an omega?
The Winchesters family business isn’t just about keeping others alive now, it’s about their own survival. Because even God can’t help them.
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keaganz · 1 day ago
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i've had so many conversations with people in fandom/creators' circles who are genuinely afraid to make the stories or art they want because they fear (often with good reason!) that their friends might kick them out of their circles, or worse, launch a public harassment campaign against them.
as someone recovering from this fear-based mindset, i want to affirm:
- friends who use implicit or explicit threats to maintain social control are not your friends
- communities that monitor your social media and ao3 to surveil you for perceived transgressive content are not safe communities
- the vast majority of people are NOT going to hate you if you make the art you want
- if you find yourself in a friend group that makes you feel afraid to speak your mind, it's in your interest to disentangle yourself from that group as quickly as possible
- real, honest disagreements between friends can be solved respectfully without the use of public shaming
- if you're feeling afraid in a community, it's likely that others are feeling afraid too. support your friends who may be struggling to leave an abusive fan or creative community, and let them know you're a safe person to voice doubts and disagreement to.
- if you're feeling like you'll never find a safer community of people, i promise there are others who feel that way too. it may take some time, but you'll find people who treat you and your ideas with respect. a good place to start is the people who make the type of art that you admire but that you're too afraid to make yourself.
ok that's all, take care of each other and be nice 💜
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keaganz · 1 day ago
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Steve starts telling Billy how weak and soft he is. How he's sweet, caring, thoughtful, and empathetic. He realises this is his ticket out of Hawkins, and he grabs it with both hands.
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"And I don't like being weak, Harrington. In fact, I am not weak, I am never weak. So here's what we're gonna do. I'm gonna head for the interstate, and you're going to start telling me how strong I am, and then maybe if you're convincing enough, I'll turn around and bring you back home."
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keaganz · 2 days ago
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|| reverentia ||
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Pairing: Geta/Reader
Summary: Geta is afforded a rare, quiet morning with his Empress. He refuses to let even a second of it go to waste.
Word count: 2.5k
Tags and warnings: Smut (not overly explicit, but still very obvious!), fluff, Geta adores his wife, Geta's POV, reader is she/her, no use of Y/N. 18+!! Minors, please do not interact!!
(Once again, the lovely @getaapologist gave me a little thought and here I am, turning it into a whole thing. Please check out her fics, they're so good! This can also be read as a vague continuation of this fic.)
Geta Masterlist || Fic Masterlist || Taglist
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When Geta awakens, the sun has yet to breach the horizon. The hour is somewhere between night and day; that strange time where he can merely exist as he is. The burdens that come with ruling have been taken from his shoulders, laid to rest elsewhere for a brief moment.
Now, he is a man, no more and no less. It is a strange comfort to him.
He turns his attention then to you, asleep in his embrace. Your head rests against his chest, tucked under his chin. As if you were made to fit so perfectly in his arms as you do.
His beautiful Empress. His beloved wife.
A soft sigh falls from your lips, your warm breath ghosting along Geta’s collarbone, and he cannot help the shiver that runs along the length of his spine. The movement jostles you ever so slightly, but it is enough for Somnus to lift his spell from you.
A sleepy little groan leaves you, and Geta holds himself completely still, lest he disturb you further.
But it is too late.
“Good morning,” you manage to say through a long yawn.
Geta pulls himself back, just enough that he can see your face.
How he finds himself clinging to little moments such as these. When the greedy, unsatisfied child that is his Empire still slumbers on, and his only thoughts can be of you.
He says nothing, yet his mind races with words that he still stumbles over. Words that you are fluent in, that are still foreign on his tongue.
He has always seen vulnerability as a weakness, and yet he does not with you. How you hold your heart out to him, so fragile, so easily crushed by a man who has known only to conquer, to destroy. And yet still you offer it to him, this delicate, breakable thing.
Once he thought you foolish for it; now it only urges him forward to learn to do the same for you.
He does not know how to say it, and so he decides, as he so often does, that he must show you instead.
For rarely does a man of his lofty position ever truly have to think of what he must say. Why would he ever need to, when he has a sea of sycophants at his command?
Simpering sheep with daggers hidden in their wool. Dangerous to turn one’s back to.
But Geta is no less dangerous. He has had to learn from a young age that there are few he can place trust in. The Empire will take and take and take, until he is little more than a husk, picked clean by scavengers.
His teeth have grown long, his claws sharp in his years on the pedestal he has been placed upon. He is versed in swordplay, but will surrender to the animalistic violence more commonplace in his brother when he must. They are two of a kind, after all.
And he will fall prey to his baser urges to protect you, again and again. Without thought, without fail.
You are more precious to him than any jewel, any land, even his title.
He places a hand beneath your jaw, gently tilting your head up to look at him. Truly he is privileged to be the only man to see you as you are now - your face bare, a soft smile pulling at your lips as you look up at him through half-lidded eyes, still tipsy with sleep.
He cannot bear the thought of another seeing you as he does now. Even his own brother.
There was a time when he might have lost your love to Caracalla, and it is the only time in his life that he has ever truly considered taking the very breath from his body. His own flesh and blood. The only other to hold Geta’s heart as fiercely as you do.
You bring a hand up to rest over his, and it is only then that he realises how he trembles. You overwhelm him, like nothing ever has.
Like no one ever will.
He leans in, brushing his nose lightly against yours before he kisses you. His mouth is firm against yours, and as always, you lean into it, allow him to take what he will. You submit so readily to him, and yet he is very aware of how much power you wield over him. He wonders if you know this too.
He nips at your lower lip, and you gasp softly, allowing him entrance. He licks at your mouth; soft in his actions, knows that you will not disappear. That in this moment, he can take his time.
Your hand tightens against his, your body pressing closer to him. He knows that your need for him is gradually growing, as his is for you. He has each little movement, each touch, each sound, committed to memory.
If he were to forget everything, let it not be this.
Let it not be you.
It is with reluctance that he parts from you. He slips free of your gentle hold, placing a line of kisses along the length of your neck, down your shoulder, the crook of your arm, the delicate skin of the inside of your wrist.
He looks up at you, as he presses another kiss to the back of your hand. What a vision you are in his eyes. Venus herself would dare have your head in her ire.
You reach for him then, as if to coax him back to you, and he forces himself to resist the siren song of your embrace, persuaded elsewhere by more pressing matters.
He slips under the covers as he moves lower still, continuing a path of kisses across your stomach, your hip, until he has settled himself quite comfortably between your legs. His hands drag softly along the lengths of your calves, back and forth, until he feels the beginnings of gooseflesh erupt beneath his fingertips.
You offer no resistance, allowing him to arrange you as he likes. It does not escape his notice the unwavering trust that you place in him in these moments.
How he would never dare to lose it.
His hands push at the fabric that covers you from him, over your knees, past your thighs, until it is no longer in the way of what he seeks from you.
He stops for a moment, if only to admire you; beautiful creature that you are, laid almost entirely bare before him. He will never tire of this view, even after his very last breath.
To him, you are a goddess made flesh.
He dips his head to the insides of your thighs, where his cheek, still rough at this time of the morning, scratches against the sensitive skin there. You let out a gasp, and a low chuckle escapes him as he does it again.
“Geta…”
He sucks in a breath at the sound of his name leaving you in such a manner. There are few who will use his given name, fewer still who have earned the right to address him with anything other than his titles.
There is Caracalla, who says his name with such familiarity, as though he was born with the word already on his tongue. And there is you, speaking his name with such care, such fondness, that he finds himself overwhelmed with feelings he does not yet have words for, each and every time he hears it.
"Whatever is the matter?" he asks, composing himself, as though he is unaware of the part he now plays.
"Surely you have teased enough," you reply, with an impatient little huff.
How sweet you are in your desire for him.
"You would accuse me of such a terrible thing?" he asks, the very picture of innocence. "Such treasonous words cannot be ignored."
"Oh, please, you exaggerate- Oh-"
Geta deliberately waits until that very moment to strike, distracting you entirely with his tongue. You jolt at his sudden movement, and he places his hands on your thighs, holding you firmly in place. He is well-versed in making you squirm, but he cannot allow himself to become distracted from the task he has so greedily set himself.
There was once a time when he thought an act like this to be degrading, particularly to one of his lofty position. How he has most assuredly realised his error in judgment.
For how could he possibly see you, as you are in this very moment, as anything less than magnificent?
He has grown far more adept since the first time he had you in this way, and will use every trick at his disposal to leave you a quivering mess beneath him. Little else provides him with as much pleasure as watching you fall apart so beautifully.
If he could keep you like this for eternity, he most certainly would, and judging by how your fingers thread tightly into his fiery locks, free as they are now of the weight of his laurels, you would let him. Let him worship you as you deserve.
He continues to move his tongue against you in that devastating way, until you are able to do little else but let him take what he wants from you. The sounds of your breathless sighs, as they rise slowly in volume, are sweeter than any music to him, little song bird that you are.
"G-Geta," you manage to whisper beneath quick, little breaths.
Your grip tightens in his hair, and sensing your growing need, he works harder to tip you over the edge that you are so desperately teetering from.
"Please- Stop-" you gasp out suddenly.
At that, he lifts his head immediately.
"Are you alright?" he asks, concern evident in his voice.
You nod shakily, and his shoulders drop in relief. To think that he might have hurt you-
"I am- I am more than alright," you reply, a tremble in your voice. "But..."
Geta rises then, moving until his body is over yours, his hands pressed to the bed on either side of you.
"But?" he echoes, his gaze focused so intensely on you. "Whatever is the matter?"
You cannot quite meet his eye, and he realises that it is not from fear or worry, but embarrassment.
"It...It is not enough," you admit quietly, finally meeting his gaze.
Geta's eyes widens for a moment, before his lips curl into a knowing smile. When once this would have provoked a childish reaction from him, now it only strokes his ego. Affirms how you feel for him.
"Oh. I see," he replies, crudely running a hand over his mouth. "What would you have me do then?"
As if he does not already know. In answer, you reach for him, your hands gripping his shoulders, as your heels dig gently into the backs of his legs, urging him closer.
Up until now, he has been able to ignore his own urges for the most part, but no longer can he cast them aside. Not with your soft touch against him, the warmth that radiates from your body, how you look at him, with such desire in your eyes.
To deny himself of you any longer would be to deny you both, and so he moves, his patience swiftly on the brink as he lines himself up and pushes into you. It takes everything in his power to stop himself from collapsing on top of you, but the feeling of you - that heat - around him is intoxicating. He is but a man, after all.
He gives you as much time as he can to adjust, but it is you who breaks first, clutching at his strong arms.
"Geta...If you do not move soon, I shall be driven to madness," you tell him, your need for him so evident in how you speak.
He needs no more convincing, and so he does as you command. He moves, and a groan slips through his clenched teeth at how perfect you feel. He is far too proud to admit it, but he knows that he will not last long.
He forces himself to focus on finishing what he has started, managing to build a somewhat steady rhythm, as he grows more and more pent-up with lust.
You only serve to make matters worse, clinging to him in a desperate manner as you urge him on. Your breath stutters, your nails scratching at his skin, and he knows that you draw close.
Geta's arms are tight around you, his fingers sure to leave bruises with how hard they press into your skin. He is animalistic in his need, yearning for release - both his and yours.
"Let go, mea lux," he all but pleads, as his hand slides between your bodies to push you further. "Let me see you."
It is not much longer before you are at last overcome, your back arching in his hold. He swears under his breath at how you squeeze him, and he is losing what little patience he had, he cannot last, he cannot-
His hips jerk forward as he spills into you, a growl working its way out of his throat as that wave of pleasure finally crashes over him. He ruts against you until he is finally spent, suddenly exhausted.
It is some time before he is able to move again. He manages to push himself up onto his elbows, and his breath catches in his throat at the sight of you. Your face is flushed, lips parted as you try to steady your breathing. He gives in to the sudden urge to kiss you that overtakes him, taking pride in how you gasp in surprise.
Neither of you speak for a while, content to quietly bask in the afterglow of it all together.
But there is only so long that Geta can ignore it. The unwelcome visitor in the room.
Sunlight is already beginning to peek through the slit in the curtains, slowly spilling across the floor, and breaking the spell that Geta has allowed himself to fall under.
"The hour grows later," he says softly.
It is with reluctance that he utters those words. He would give anything to remain as he is.
"Do as you must," you tell him.
He looks down at you, to find you staring up at him. He knows that look in your eyes all too well.
Stay here with me, you silently plead.
Geta lets out a quiet breath. Perhaps he can indulge himself a while longer. He lies down once more, pulling you into his arms as he does so. With your head once again against his chest, your soft breaths against his collarbone, it is as if he had never woken you at all.
Although he is most certainly glad that he did.
"Surely the palace can remain in one piece without me for a few minutes more," he murmurs.
You hum in agreement, wrapping your arms tightly around him in turn. Geta cannot resist the smile threatening to break across his face, and so he allows it. Allows himself another small moment of peace.
There is nowhere in the world that he would rather be right now, and certainly no one else that he would rather be with, than you.
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Taglist: @lover-rep-fanfic @x-vadon @dubiousmetamorphosis @hikohyuuga @iitsmandii @medievalharlot @glassbxttless @getaapologist @fandom-princess-forevermore @robinbuckleywife @bib200 @samslvrgirl @cheesesandwichsanto @magikdarkholme @spider-starry
(You can join the taglist here! You can also ask to be removed through the same form!)
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keaganz · 2 days ago
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Silly doodle of Dustin reunited with Steve, but the demo boy doesn't want to be seen with that mouth
[P4tre0n] [Linktr.ee]
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keaganz · 3 days ago
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PSA!
THIS IS AN AI CREATED FIC!
closed doors
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pairings harry castillo x reader
summary you had his cock in your mouth under the desk when his clueless assistant walked in with a clipboard in hand, rambling about contracts while harry kept a straight face, only to bend you over that same desk the second the door closed as he fucked you like the spoiled little brat you are.
“do you feel me? this is how deep i am inside you.”
content nsfw 18+, explicit sexual content, semi-public sex (office setting), rich bratty reader, power dynamics. established relationship, unspecified age gap. proceed with care.
masterlist
you’re curled up on the velvet chaise in the corner of harry’s sleek glass-walled office, swinging one leg lazily, wearing a minidress that really shouldn't be appropriate for a business visit. but it’s harry. and you’re not just anyone.
he’s seated at his desk, speaking sharply into a call. you watch the way he moves.
fingers tapping, jaw tight, voice low and commanding.
and he hasn’t looked at you in twenty full minutes.
you rise slowly, crossing the polished floor without a word. he notices you in his peripheral but keeps speaking.
you perch on the edge of his desk. then slip down beneath it.
"get—get that document signed by noon," he says tightly.
you grin against the fine wool of his trousers as your fingers slowly trace his thigh. you tease.
you take your time undoing his belt. he’s gripping the desk now.
harry pauses, hand covering the mic. “don’t start something you can’t finish,”
you look up through your lashes, sugary sweet. “watch me.”
you palm him first, lazily, until he’s thick and twitching beneath your touch.
you draw his big thing out and lean forward to press a kiss to his tip. not a real kiss. a tease.
you swirl your tongue around the head. slow and wicked.
harry’s voice falters on the phone. “yes, we’ll finalize the contract.”
your tongue flicks the underside of his crown, and he grips the desk with white knuckles.
you don’t take him in yet. you smile, kiss him again. whisper, “why aren’t you watching me, harry?”
harry end the call and finally looks down. his jaw tight and eyes dark.
just as you begin to close your mouth around him, there’s a knock.
“mr. castillo?”
you pause. look up. smirk.
“let him in.”
harry glares at you like he might drag you to hell. then clears his throat.
“come in.”
his assistant walks in, clipboard in hand. business as usual.
except you’re still under the desk.
you drag your tongue up his shaft. slow strokes of your hand. sucking just the tip, softly. he bites the inside of his cheek.
“move the contract to next week,” he says, voice strained. “and tell legal to revise clause four.”
the assistant eyes him warily. “are you sure, sir? you told legal to finalize it today.”
harry clears his throat, jaw flexing. “yes. i changed my mind.”
there’s a beat of awkward silence. you suck him deeper.
“sir… you seem a little… tense,” the assistant says hesitantly.
harry’s voice is hoarse. “it’s been a long day.”
“would you like me to reschedule your 3 p.m.?”
you flick your tongue. harry exhales sharply. “no. keep it. anything else?”
the assistant flips a page. “only the fundraising gala. you’re supposed to finalize your guest list.”
harry locks eyes with the wall. “i'll put you on it.”
pause. “me?”
harry’s voice turns deadly calm. “do you need me to spell it out?”
“no, sir. i’ll take care of it.”
when the door finally closes behind the assistant, harry's grip is firm when he yanks you up from under the desk, and he doesn’t say a word at first.
not with his jaw clenched like that, not with his cock slick from your mouth and his knuckles white from how hard he’d gripped the chair.
"you want to act like a brat in my office?” he hisses. “fine.”
he throws you onto the desk, dress bunched at your hips.
you gasp, breath catching. he slides your panties with one hand, the other tight at your back.
“now you get to take it.”
“hands on the desk,” he murmurs, voice like velvet and command all at once.
you obey without question, your palms on the cool wood.
the city stretches behind the glass walls, glittering and unaware. this world. yours and harry’s.
his hand drags down the curve of your spine as he steps behind you.
“you know what this does to me,” he says, breath rough at your ear. “knowing no one can see you like this but me.”
you glance back at him with a playful glint in your eyes.
harry slides in from behind in one long, punishing thrust. your moan shatters the quiet.
he moves inside you like he’s trying to memorize the way you feel.
“sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice soft against your skin. “you undo me.”
“you wanna tease me like that again? make me sit through a meeting with your lips wrapped around my cock?” you nod.
“you’re soaked, i could live inside you.”
he thrusts hard. the desk shakes. you cry out.
“you gonna be good now?” he pants.
you grin through glassy eyes. “probably not.”
“then i’ll fuck the attitude out of you.” he brushes your hair back and presses a kiss on your shoulder.
he keeps moving inside you. the city glows, but he’s the one setting you alight.
“this little act of yours,” he mutters, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck between movements, “your mouth on me with my assistant a feet away…”
“you let him in,” you gasp, voice shaking. “you could’ve said no.”
he laughs against your skin, deep and breathless. “you’d already wrapped me around your finger.”
you arch into him, and his rhythm falters. harry groans your name like it’s sacred.
“you’re mine,” he says,
you breathe. “i’m yours.”
“you are. every spoiled inch of you.”
his hand slips from your hip to your stomach, pulling you back against him while he keeps moving inside you slower now.
“do you feel me?” he murmurs at your ear. “this is how deep i am inside you.”
when you come, shaking around him with your cheek pressed to the desk and his name breaking in your throat, he follows with a low shuddering moan and a kiss to your shoulder.
he’s gives you all the parts of him no one else gets.
when he pulls out, he doesn’t move far. just wraps an arm around your waist and rests his forehead to your back, breath still uneven.
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keaganz · 3 days ago
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happy slick sunday! steve works at a nesting supply boutique and eddie won a gift card in a raffle, so he's really out of his depth. steve is so helpful and sweet (he special orders a body pillow in the black satin eddie likes). and eddie keeps bringing in a new friend each time he visits because he knows better than to ask someone out in their place of work, but he likes to chat with steve, fellow omega to omega. they end up seeing each other at the local gay bar's o4o night and are almost caught fingering each other in a secluded booth, the end 🥰
yes!!! omega4omega!!! they’ll have the best and coziest nest ever!!
also i would pay to see them fingering each other other in a secluded booth at the bar
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keaganz · 3 days ago
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Harringrove Exchange 1/2 for @dame-zoom-a-lot -- Meet me At Lovers Lake
Read on a03 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/66736144
This is for the @harringrove-summer-exchange this is my 1st of two fics *so now you know youre getting another one but here we are lol* their prompts were very fun but I felt I could do the prompts better justice with two fics since they were a bit oppostie of one another
So here is the Fluffy Teen Rated fic!! Tags - Skinny Dipping.
Read below
When Billy Hargrove had first moved in Steve thought he was stuck up, but after getting to know him a bit more through playing sports together and going to see him at his job and vice versa he felt Billy wasn’t too terrible. Steve opened his locker to find a note twirling through the air, he reached out and grabbed it with a grin. He opened it up to find it was from Billy.
Hey meet me at Lovers Lake 2night see you there. BH
Steve felt his heart beating quickly, that was a good sign, he had started to form a crush on Billy for a while now and so he was hoping that this would be the start of something between the two of them. Their friendship had started out slow, but once they started to actually hang out their bond began to form. 
Steve sighed knowing he wouldn’t see Billy at school that day, they had no classes together and gym was canceled for the last few days of school. He went through his classes daydreaming about what would happen between them at the lake. 
Billy was doing the same, going from class to class hoping he would see Steve and make sure he got his note, but he could only hope he showed up. 
Steve had been more welcoming then some when he moved in and he was great with kids, it helped him when he needed someone to watch Max. He knew he came off wrong sometimes, and was a bit aggressive when it came to someone pissing him off. He blamed it on his father, but he knew he could be nicer, and Steve was helping him be a better and kinder person. 
Billy had it all planned out, he was going to confess his love for Steve at Lovers Lake and hope that he felt the same way. 
Steve pulled up to the lake after an hour of changing his clothes and doing his hair. He wanted to look perfect for Billy, Robin had laughed at him and said he was acting worse than a beauty queen at a pageant but he needed to make sure he looked presentable.  
Steve looked around and spotted Billy’s car, he hoped he hadn’t been waiting long. There hadn’t been a time on the note. 
Steve walked out towards the lake and smiled as he spotted Billy. The blonde was sitting on a blanket, tossing rocks into the dark water. Billy’s head turned at the snap of a twig, his stoic face twisted to a smile. He stood up quickly, nearly tripping over his own feet. “Hey, you came.” “Of course I did. You asked, I came.” Billy felt his face growing hot, and Steve couldn’t help but smile at how pink his cheeks were. Billy looked across the water trying not to ignore how warm he felt. “Thank you.” “For what?” Steve asked, his nose scrunched. 
“That you came, I just you know… Didn’t know if you would come.” Steve smiled softly. “Of course I wanted to come, you mean a lot to me Billy.” Billy’s eyes widened. “I do?” “Of course you do,” Steve smiled, the two walked to the blanket Billy had set out. “Well, Steve, uhm… I- You mean a lot to me too… Which is why I asked you to come here. I- Steve I love you.” 
Steve’s eyes widened in surprise, before they softened. “You do?” 
Billy was staring down at him, his eyes twinkling with hope. His stomach was in knots, his palms were sweaty. All he wanted was for him to love him back.
Steve grabbed his hands with a wide smile. “I love you too, I really do.” Billy sighed in relief, bringing his lips to his. They pressed against one another, before Billy lowered Steve on his back. Steve continued to kiss back, before he felt Billy’s hand running up his top. “Billy…” “If you don’t want me to do this, I will stop.” Billy whispered to him. “Whatever you want.”
Steve grinned into the kiss returning it with soft breaths of excitement, ever since he had met Billy this was all he could think of. Billy ran his hands through Steve’s well kept hair. “You’re perfect, you know that right?” 
Steve couldn’t help but feel himself blush deeply. Billy straddled him, pinning him to the floor as he continued to kiss him. The sound of the lake calming in the night. 
“I love you Steve Harrington, I want to take you with me back to California when we graduate.” Steve couldn’t help but groan against his lips. He wanted to go anywhere that Billy wanted to be. He was on cloud nine. “Want to skinny dip with me?” Billy’s brain nearly went haywire. “Yes… I do.” The two were quick, pulling at one another's clothes with quick succession. Steve’s top flew, landing on a branch. Billy was pretty sure one of his shoes ended up in the lake but he could care less. All he wanted was to spend this moment with Steve, he wanted to see him in all of his glory but all he truly cared for was being his. All he wanted was Steve.
Billy picked Steve up in his arms, Steve yelped in surprise as Billy started to rush towards the water with him securely in his arms.
“Billy.. Wait B-Billy!”
Billy laughed as he tossed Steve into the water, he landed with a splash. Fish swam away quickly at the sudden disturbance. The water rippled around them as Steve resurfaced. Billy grinned as Steve tossed his hair back. “My hair…”
“You’re in the lake Stevie, not modeling.”
“I could be.” Steve teased as he leaned against a rock. Billy felt his stomach twisting, god was Steve handsome. Steve leaned into him as he swam towards him. Kissing him softly. “I’m yours Hargrove.”
“Good, because I love you… I really love you.”
Steve kissed him softly as the moonlight cascading around them, the lake was their little slice of heaven at that moment. This moment was theirs.
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keaganz · 3 days ago
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Silly doodle of Dustin reunited with Steve, but the demo boy doesn't want to be seen with that mouth
[P4tre0n] [Linktr.ee]
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keaganz · 3 days ago
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BILLY HARGROVE X READER
You’re mine, you know that. Pt.4
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Click here to read Pt.1 - Pt.2 and Pt.3 first !!!
**SUMMARY - Billy is haunted by last nights events, so you decide to go over to his place and help him clean up this mess in an attempt to clear his mind, until Neil shows up and tries to sabotage your relationship, you seek comfort at Eddie’s, but soon, Billy arrives.
Angry Billy, Upset Billy, Comforting Billy. Happy ending.
**TRIGGER WARNINGS - Mentions of Billy’s abusive father. Heavy swearing, kissing and anger outbursts. Slight violence. Possessive nature.
WORD COUNT - 8k !!!
MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY !!!
I do not own the rights to the following characters, all characters created and owned by the Duffer Brothers- Stranger Things.
I do NOT consent to have my work posted , translated or published to any third party site or app. If anyone sees my work anywhere but here, it has been posted without my permission.
Requests open !!!!! :)
—————————————————————————————-
The morning sun was a golden intruder through the gap in the curtains. You stirred, consciousness returning in a hazy wave, the lingering sense of safety you always felt when sleeping beside Billy.
The dramatic events of the previous evening had clearly taken their toll, pulling you into a deeper sleep than usual.
You stretched long, a soft smile playing on your lips, before rolling over, your hand instinctively reaching for the warmth that should have been there. Instead, your fingers met the cool, empty space where Billy had been, the imprint of his body still molded into the mattress like a ghostly reminder of his presence.
A slight frown creased your brow as you fully woke. He must be downstairs, you thought, he was probably waiting for you.
Your father, as usual, would have already left for work before the crack of dawn, leaving the house quiet and still. A quick glance at the clock confirmed your suspicions.
You'd overslept by a good few hours.
As you sat up, pulling the tangled sheets around you, you remembered Max. She had retrieved her skateboard from the trunk of Billy's car earlier that morning and slipped out of the house about an hour before you woke, a flimsy excuse about needing to “study" hanging in the air. You knew she was lying to Billy, she’d skated off to meet Lucas Sinclair. A familiar feeling of guilt tugged at your conscience but you soon brushed your focus to your missing boyfriend.
Driven by a sudden urgency, you threw the covers off and swung your legs over the side of the bed, the cool air sending a shiver up your spine. You quickly searched the house for Billy, your bare feet padding against the soft carpeted floors as you shifted from room to room. A quick glance in the kitchen, the living room and even the small, cluttered pantry held nothing. The silence of the house seemed to amplify your growing unease.
After a few short moments, the realization that he was nowhere inside washed over you, leaving you with a blank, unsettling feeling. A wave of concern crashed over you, your mind struggling to make sense of his absence after the fright of the events from the night before.
You rushed to the nearest window, peering out with a growing sense of unease, half expecting to see his car missing from the driveway. To your surprise, his Camaro was still parked there, still and gleaming under the shimmer of the morning sun.
And then you spotted him.
Billy was sitting in the driver's seat, his posture rigid, his gaze fixed on something unseen. Relief washed over you, quickly followed by a renewed sense of concern.
What was he doing out there, alone in the car?
You hurried back up the stairs, your heart pounding in your chest, searching for a blanket to ward off the morning chill.
After rummaging through the closet, you finally found a soft, familiar throw. Wrapping it tightly around yourself like a comforting cape like shield. You made your way back down the stairs, out of the front door and onto the cold pavement beneath you, the shock of the ground against your bare feet stealing your breath for a short few heartbeats.
You walked cautiously towards Billy's car, the blanket cocooning you in its warmth and with a gentle tug, you opened the passenger side door and slid inside, settling into the seat beside him.
The sudden sound didn't trigger a flinch, nor did it draw his gaze. Lost in a world of his own, a world he desperately wanted to be in right now, Billy remained motionless, his eyes were fixed onto his lap , obsessively spinning the lighter with his fingertips.
“Billy…” (Y/N) asked, voice soft with concern, tilting her head to try and catch his eye. “What’s wrong?” She questioned with care.
Billy didn’t move, his eyes still wide , the lighter a blur as he continuously spun it.
“Hey.” (Y/N) said, hand covering his, stilling the frantic motion of the lighter.
Billy blinked rapidly , as if he was waking from a dream and swiped at the tears that had gathered in the corners of his big blue eyes.
“Hey sweetheart.” He managed, his voice a little shaky.
“Whatcha doin out here, huh? You wanna come inside? Get something to eat?” (Y/N) questioned, anything to get him out of his spiral of overthinking.
You reached for his hand and the chill was startling, your warm skin against his that felt like ice.
“Jesus, Billy! How long have you been sat here?” (Y/N) asked glancing around wondering if he’d been sat out here for hours.
“Not long, what time is it?” Billy inquired.
“It’s almost twelve p.m.” (Y/N) told Billy.
The leather of his brown jacket creaked as he lowered his head, loose curls escaping his mullet and dropping effortlessly onto his forehead.
“Shit.” He mumbled into the stiff collar.
“Well… how long were you out here?” (Y/N) repeated with curiosity.
“Since like, six a.m, I think.” He said hesitantly. “I couldn’t sleep. Your father came out though, when he was leaving for work, asked me to make sure my car was off his driveway by the time he got back.” He chuckled softly.
“Billy you’ve been sat here for almost six hours, what is wrong with you, you’re freezing.” (Y/N) added, her brow slighting furrowing.
You reached for the blanket, intending to pull it away from you and over Billy, but Billy's hand shot out, his fingers wrapping gently around your wrists.
The contact was soft, almost hesitant, yet firm enough to stop you.
“Don't.” He murmured, his voice rough around the edges.
"You need it more than I do." He added.
His thumb brushed lightly across your cheek, leaving a trail of warmth before retreating his hand to his lap, disappearing from the folds of the blanket.
He slumped further into the worn leather seat, his gaze fixed on something beyond the glistening windshield of his Camaro. A deep exhale rattled through him, fogging the window for a brief moment.
“You wanna head back to your place and clean up together? Distract you from whatever’s spinning in that crazy mind of yours?” (Y/N) asked softly, a small smile playing on her lips as she threaded her fingers through his mullet, gently massaging his scalp.
He leaned into her touch, a slight sigh escaping his lips, a clear sign of the comfort it brought him.
"Yeah, sure, alright. But if he comes home-"
You stopped Billy mid sentence.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll leave through the window.” (Y/N) sighed, rolling her eyes playfully.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, a familiar gesture of frustration and started the engine, the rumble vibrating through the car, he turned to you, slowly flicking his head back towards the the window of the drivers side door. A silent invitation, a signal for you to come over and kiss him.
Without a second thought, you straddled his lap, your legs settling on either side of him in the cramped front seat of his Camaro.
The worn fabric from his blue denim jeans pressed against your thighs. You cupped his cheek with one hand, feeling the faint stubble beneath your fingertips, the other hand gently found its place at the nape of his neck, fiddling through the strands of his hair.
His head tilted back against the headrest, his heavy blue eyes, framed by thick lashes, flickered down to your lips. A moment of hesitation hung in the air, thick with unspoken emotions.
The scent of his familiar cologne filled your senses.
You closed the distance, your lips meeting his and latching on. The kiss was soft, gentle and filled with pure love.
“Everything will be okay.” (Y/N) reassured. “Stop thinking about it, I don’t hate you, okay. I love you, you are not your father, it was an accident, we’re okay, I promise.” (Y/N) added trying to bring him a sense of relief.
Billy nodded his head , his hands still pressed against your thighs.
“I love you too, I’ll go check if he’s home while you get ready and then I’ll come back to get you.” He whispered.
You pressed a lingering, warm kiss to Billy’s head, the scent of his hair filling your nostrils.
“See you in 10.” (Y/N) blurted out in a hurried tone, already halfway out the door.
You scrambled out of Billy’s side of the car and made a beeline for your house, the blanket you’d brought along flapping behind you like a makeshift cape. The front door loomed closer and upon arrival you fumbled with the handle and let yourself inside after watching Billy reverse out of your driveway. disappearing up the street.
The sound of his engine faded into the distance, leaving a sudden quiet in its wake.
——————————————————————————-
After rummaging through your closet for something to wear, you finally settled on an outfit.
You'd already completed your morning routine of brushing your teeth, washing your face and carelessly shoving your hair into a messy bun, the hairstyle that had become your go, to.
After all, you were only going over to Billy’s, so there was no need to make any extra effort.
You exited your bedroom wearing a pair of dark blue skinny jeans complimented with a black leather belt, a white off the shoulder t-shirt that you’d tucked into the hem of your jeans just enough to give it a casual look and your white Converse shoes that Billy had slipped off the night before, leaving them neatly beside your bedroom door.
You grabbed Billy’s denim jacket, something you never left the house without, just in case it got chilly, though you doubted you’d need it.
A few more moments passed until you heard the unmistakable roar of your boyfriend’s Camaro pulling up out front.
You quickly ran to the kitchen, poured yourself a cup of water and took a quick gulp before darting to the door.
When you opened it, Billy was standing right there, both hands mysteriously hidden behind his back.
"Hey pretty girl.” He grinned, chewing his gum on the right side of his mouth, it slowly peeking through his perfectly shaped teeth.
"Uh- hiiii.” (Y/N) responded with a chuckle and a questioning tone.
Billy revealed his hands from behind his back and with one hand, presented a small bouquet of white roses he'd carefully chosen out for you, knowing you preferred them over the red ones. His other hand offered a teddy bear with 'I love you' stitched across a soft, red heart that sat in its stuffed paws.
“Here, these are for you. I'm no good at this shit but I uh- I thought it might cheer you up.” He said, a hint of vulnerability in his voice.
Your face lit up with genuine happiness.
“Oh my god, Billy, who are you?" (Y/N) joked while giving him a playful nudge. "What have you done with my boyfriend?" (Y/N) questioned with a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips.
"Take it, go on, before I change my mind.” He chuckled, trying to mask his nervousness.
He didn't usually do things like this, with his dad often calling him ‘faggot’ or a ‘pussy’ for showing any sign of emotion or empathy.
But he was trying his best to show you how sorry he was and how much he cared, hoping these small gestures would express what words often failed to.
You took the gifts from Billy and thanked him after placing a soft kiss to his cheek and set the gifts at the foot of the stairs, you’d left them there to await your return home.
Before standing and turning back around to face Billy , he let out a loud, wolf whistle that echoed through the doorway of your home.
You pivoted , a small smirk tugging at your lips.
“Finally checking out my ass more than your own?” (Y/N) chuckled.
Causing laughter to bubble up from the both of you.
“Come on, get in.” He said, gesturing towards the car with a wide spread grin.
——————————————————————————
The drive to your boyfriends house was short, but the silence felt heavy.
Billy pulled up, parking the car against the sidewalk and killed the engine. An obvious tension hung in the air, thick enough to taste. You both stared through the window of the car and Billy broke the silence.
"Listen.” He said, his voice low and serious.
“If he comes home, and anything goes sideways in there, you get out. You hear me? No excuses. I mean it." His eyes locked onto you, pleading for you to understand the weight of his words.
"Dave.” You blurted out, the name a sudden, unexpected thought.
"What?" Billy questioned, his expression a mix of confusion and concern.
"Dave. That's what I'm going to call him. The teddy bear you got me." (Y/N) said, managing a small smile.
"Jesus.” Billy chuckled, a nervous sound. "Get out.”he demanded, squeezing your thigh before opening his door.
Hand in hand, you walked up the cracked concrete steps to the front door. The paint looked fresh and the porch was clean.
Billy often referred to it as a dollhouse. ‘Pretty on the outside, ugly on the inside.’
He was right.
Inside the house was extremely quiet. Neil wasn't home and neither was Maxine.
A frown creased Billy's forehead. His mind raced, wondering where she could be, the worry washing over his eyes. He knew she had lied to him about her plans of doing homework and he clenched his jaw at the thought of her with Lucas.
You squeezed his hand, offering silent reassurance.
"She's fine, Billy.” (Y/N) insisted gently. "Let her be a teenager.” You finished.
You both turned to his bedroom door and stepped inside. It was a disaster zone. Clothes were thrown everywhere, glass scattered, his bed flipped along with pretty much everything else in there, nothing was where it should be. And to finish off the rooms new look, the hole in the wall, a reminder to last night's anger, was still a prominent feature.
"Well shit.” Billy said, raising his eyebrows.
"Yeah, shit.” You replied playfully, mimicking his tone.
Billy cocked his head to look at you, a look of déjà vu washing over him. He remembered him saying the same thing back at the diner the day his world spun upside down, a lifetime ago it seemed. He knew you were mocking him.
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, he was almost proud at you for reflecting his own sarcasm back at him, he taught you well. He loved watching you turn into a mini version of himself.
But despite everything, you always had a way of making him laugh.
——————————————————————————-
It had taken you both two long hours to fully blitz his bedroom and now, as you surveyed the aftermath, it was hard to believe anything had truly happened at all.
The room looked almost untouched, apart from the obvious absence of the tall mirror that once stood proudly against the wall and the old crumpled poster now hastily taped over the hole beside the door. You felt a wave of relief wash over you, certain that Billy would escape his father’s wrath this time.
As Billy finished reattaching his closet door, you carefully scraped the last shards of glass into the dustpan, the sound of crunching glass echoing in the quiet room. With a final flick of your wrist, you discarded the remains into the trash can, the clatter of the shards marking the end of your chaotic project.
“Done.” (Y/N) declared, a sense of accomplishment fizzing within her.
Billy, blissfully unaware of the impending storm, thanked you and headed out to discard of the trash.
Outside, the sun dipped low in the sky, casting long, golden shadows across Neil’s truck, that sat sinisterly parked in front of the house. Billy was oblivious , he walked straight past and didn’t notice at all.
You didn’t have long to celebrate your small victory before the sound of the front door creaked open and reached your ears.
Neil and Susan walked in with laughter spilling from their lips. They passed Billy’s room and you caught Neil’s eye, an unsettling chill ran down your spine as you shifted yourself to stand straight. He took a few steps back with his gaze locking onto you with an intensity that made it hard to breathe.
“And you are?” Neil asked, his voice low and intimidating, the atmosphere shifting around you.
“Uh-hi, Neil, I’m, um… I’m Billy’s girlfriend.” (Y/N) stammered, her voice shaky as she tried to muster confidence.
“And where is Billy?” He questioned, his tone leaving no room for avoidance.
“He’ll be back in a second, he’s just taking out the trash.” (Y/N) replied, her heart pounding in her chest.
“Hmmm.” Neil grunted, his expression unreadable as he moved closer, invading your personal space.
The air thickened with tension as he leaned in, whispering a jumbled mix of words in a deep, menacing voice.
“You know… you’re not the only whore he brings around here, right?” Neil hissed, the accusation hanging heavily between you.
“Neil!” Susan interrupted, her tone a desperate plea for him to stop, casting you an apologetic smile that did little to ease the weight of the situation.
But Neil’s focus remained on you, his gaze piercing through yours as he cocked his head slightly, a predatory glint in his eyes.
“What, she oughta know who she’s dating, right? My son doesn’t love you, you’re just another toy to him and you’re not going to turn him into an even bigger pussy than he already is, do you understand me?” Neil demanded, the venom in his words cutting deep.
In that moment, the world outside faded away and all that remained was the silence of the room and the weight of Neil's gaze.
Your mouth opened, but the words caught in your throat like a tangled fishing line. Your mind was a racing, the thoughts crashing against each other.
You desperately wanted to believe in Billy, in the love you shared, in the promise that he would never betray you. But the insidious whispers of doubt, planted by others, now bloomed into full blown paranoia. Everyone had warned you about Billy, about his reputation, his wandering eye. You always ignored it, but now, doubt clung to your mind like a persistent shadow.
Neil chuckled, a sound as grating as nails on a chalkboard and peered over your shoulder with a predatory glint in his eyes, before turning his gaze back to you, a smug expression plastered across his face.
"Bedside table, first drawer. Take a look for yourself if you don't believe me." His words were like a poisoned dart, lodging themselves deep within your heart, confirming your worst fears.
A familiar voice, warm and comforting, cut through the tension as Billy peeked through the doorway.
"What's wrong?" He asked, his brow furrowed with concern.
His father turned to face him, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.
“Oh, nothing, son. Just saying hello to your sweet little girlfriend over here." He chuckled, the sound hollow and insincere, before walking away, Billy following him with his eyes, confusion obvious on his face.
"You okay?" Billy asked, stepping fully into the room, his gaze searching yours.
"Yeah, fine.” (Y/N) replied, the word sharp and clipped.
"Alright, I'll be back in a second.” He said, offering a reassuring smile before disappearing down the hallway.
Billy knew something wasn't right. His father, who usually made no secret of his disapproval of Billy having girls at the house, had been uncharacteristically welcoming. A whirl of unease spiralled in his stomach.
While Billy was gone, the words Neil had spoken repeated in your mind like a never ending loop.
You didn't want to snoop through Billy's things, to betray his trust by invading his privacy. But the need to know, to ease the rising tide of panic, was overwhelming.
Driven by a desperate need for answers, you rushed to the bedside table and yanked open the drawer. And there, nestled amongst old, crumpled cigarette packs, lay a vibrant selection of scrunchies in colors and patterns that were scarily unfamiliar. They did not, belong to you.
Shock washed over your face, leaving you cold and numb. A knot formed in your stomach, twisting and tightening with each passing second. Tears welled in your eyes, blurring your vision. You slammed the drawer shut as you heard Billy’s footsteps slowly approaching.
Billy came back into the room, oblivious to the fear brewing within you and you rushed past him, desperate to escape.
"Hey, where you going? I'm about to take you home.” He shouted down the hallway, his voice coated with confusion.
"I'm good, I’m uh- i’m gonna walk. I feel a little sick, I could do with the fresh air anyway.” (Y/N) said, turning to face him, her hand gripping the doorframe as if it were a lifeline.
"Okay, wellll, I'll walk you home then.” He stated, taking a step towards you.
"No! I- uh- I'm fine. I want to go by myself, have my own space, you know?" (Y/N) replied, her voice trembling slightly.
Billy's face clouded with concern. He knew you'd been helping him all day and he didn't want to pressure you into doing something you didn't want to do. Not after you'd been so good to him.
"Okay, well be safe. Call me when you get home.” He insisted, his eyes filled with worry.
"Yeah.” (Y/N) said, offering a weak smile before turning and leaving his house, closing the door behind her.
Your stomach kept twisting and turning, a nauseating reminder of the betrayal you felt. You didn't know what to do or where to go. You didn't want to go home, or anywhere else. Everywhere and everything reminded you of Billy, of the life you thought you had. In a moment of desperation, you decided to go to an old friend's place.
Eddie Munson.
Eddie had been your best friend for quite some time, Billy had never met him, but he knew of him and disapproved of the friendship, claiming that Eddie's life revolved around trouble and illegal activities. He had asked you, pleaded with you, not to be around him. But now, with your world crumbling around you, Eddie was the only person you could think of turning to since Steve was no longer an option.
——————————————————————————-
The walk to Eddie's had been brutal, leaving your legs screaming and hair drenched from the rain that entered unexpectedly through Hawkins.
Your skin glistened with a thousand tiny rain drops , each one reflecting the dull, grey sky above. The rain was heavy and harsh, almost sharp against your skin. You desperately hoped Eddie would be home and finally, after 45 minutes of walking, his trailer appeared ahead.
It wasn't much, just a weathered box on wheels. Mud caked the siding and a scattering of beer cans littered the small yard along with Wayne’s worn out deck chair that sat on the tiny porch.
You gathered the last of your strength , climbing the rickety steps and knocked.
"Coming!" Eddie's voice screeched from inside.
The door swung open with a bang and Eddie filled the doorway. His dark, deep, brown eyes softened as he took you in, a genuine smile spreading across his face.
“(Y/N)! What brings you all the way out here?" He asked.
You started to sob uncontrollably.
“Billy, he- I-“ (Y/N) choked , each breath a ragged gasp.
“Billy cheated on me.” (Y/N) cried.
“No.” Eddie said In disbelief.
“God, I’m so sorry, here , come in I’ll get you something do drink- uh , I have a couple friends over but they won’t bother you, they’re cool dudes. I promise.” He said scanning you with concern. “And I’ll get you a fricken blanket or something too jeez. Did you walk here?” He asked.
“Yeah.” (Y/N) sniffled.
“Jesus, come inside.” Eddie insisted.
——————————————————————————-
Billy’s pov -
Billy had been chain smoking for the past eight hours, the silence of the unringing phone grating on his nerves.
Growing Impatient, he dialled your number, only to dial it again when it went unanswered.
He sat on the edge of his bed, leg bouncing nervously, drawing a long drag from his cigarette.
Should he give you the space you'd asked for, even though he couldn't understand why? Or should he rush over, driven by the fear that you weren't safe?
The memory of what happened at the mall, when he hadn't been there to protect you, gnawed at him.
He exhaled sharply, a decision hardening his features and shot to his feet, rushing down the hallway to the front door and slamming it with an unreasonable force behind him.
Billy opened the door to his Camaro, slamming himself down into the leather seat, his gaze snagged on the denim jacket of his you'd left behind. His mind racing with unwanted thoughts. Were you cold? Were you even safe? Were you caught up in the rain? Were you alone?
He grew angrier with himself for leaving it as long as he did, he knew he should’ve checked on you sooner but he tried to do what you’d asked of him, to let you walk alone and give you the space you needed. The thought’s sent jolts of fear through his body and with that, he roared the engine to life and sped towards your house.
When he arrived, the porch light cast a long shadow, a tide of warmth pulled through his chest at the thought of seeing you. He darted out of the car and rushed up to the front door, the worn wooden planks groaning softly under his boots, each creak increasing his anxiety.
He knew that if you wasn’t home, it would be your father who answered, a fact that always sparked a flare of frustration within him. They didn’t always see eye to eye , but they both had one thing in common, they both loved you and wanted to keep you safe.
So… he knocked. almost hesitantly, a soft tap against the glass.
The door was wrenched open with surprising force, revealing your father, Hopper standing there before him, a silhouette framed by the dim interior light.
“What can I do for ya, Hargrove?” Your father asked, his voice deep and laced with suspicion.
A cigarette dangled loosely from the corner of his lips, smoke curling lazily around the roughness of his moustache, the orange glow momentarily illuminating the deep lines etched by years of hard living.
“Uh-hi Hop, is uh-is (Y/N) home?” Billy asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, trying to appear casual, but his heart hammered against his ribs like a caged bird.
“Nope, thought she was with you.” Hop stated, his eyebrows drawing together in a thunderous expression.
“Right, yeah, sorry, I uh-I just remembered she went over to Nancy’s house to um-to grab some of her things, right, yeah.” Billy stammered with a nervous laugh, the lie feeling like a harsh weight in his stomach.
He tried to meet Hop’s eyes but found himself looking at the worn collar of his half buttoned maroon shirt instead.
“Sorry for bothering you, have a good night.” Billy said, already backing away, not wanting (Y/N) to get in trouble for wandering the streets alone, if that’s what she was even doing.
Your father shot a deathly glare into the back of your boyfriend’s head, but trusted his words as he closed the door. The second it shut, Billy pivoted sharply, a caged animal finally unleashed.
He darted for his Camaro, the vibrant blue glistened under the streetlights. He launched himself inside and turned the key to fire up the engine and within seconds, he’d left your street and raced to a new location.
Billy drove recklessly around Hawkins, the wipers struggling to keep their pace with the down pour.
He screeched to a halt outside Nancy’s Wheelers house, the rain plastering the curls of his mullet to his forehead as he pounded on the door, his knuckles raw. Empty. You weren’t there.
He sped off again, the Camaro a dark blur against the night, to Robin’s, the same frantic energy driving him and the same crushing disappointment awaiting him. You weren’t there either.
He knocked from door to door at every possible house you could have gone to, his desperation growing with each unsuccessful attempt. He even stooped to the point of asking Steve Harrington. But again, as he expected, you weren’t there.
Billy sat for a moment inside the comfort of his own car , the rain having soaked him completely, he was out of options , with no idea where to go, where you were or what to do. Panic had settled in and taken a hold completely at this point, until a thought ignited in his mind, one he’d never entertained before.
Eddie Munson.
Billy got back out of the Camaro that now sat in a pool of rain, rushed back up to Steve’s front door and knocked for the final time, this time more aggressively.
"Hargrove, weren’t you uh- weren’t you just here? I already told you man, she’s not with me.” Steve said, with a familiar annoyance in his voice.
“I know, Harrington, could you just shut the hell up for a second, god.” Billy snapped, rubbing his hand down his face, trying to clear the rain and the frustration that clouded his vision. "Eddie Munson, you heard of him?" He asked.
"Yeah, sure… I know him, actually. Why? You gonna beat his ass to?" Steve huffed, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.
"Where does he live?" Billy demanded, his voice tight with a burning rage.
"Why would I tell you-“
Billy stopped his sentence.
"Damn it, Harrington! Just tell me where he lives. (Y/N) hasn’t been home all day and if you care at all for her, even just a little bit, you’ll tell me where he lives. Now.” Billy pleaded, his front of anger cracking, revealing the raw fear beneath.
Steve sighed, the fight draining out of him. He gave in, not for Billy, but for you.
“He lives on the outskirts, like… I mean right on the outskirts of Hawkins… Forest Hill’s Trailer park. You’ll know which one is his when you see it, she’ll be there man, I promise, if she can’t come to me he’s the person that’s always next on the list." Steve answered.
Billy nodded, giving him a silent thank you and rushed back to his car.
He fired up the engine and sped towards the trailer park, a longer ride than he expected.
The rain hammered against the windshield as Billy muttered to himself, harsh words of disbelief and denial.
“A fucking trailer park… A trailer park, is she fucking serious? I swear to fucking god (Y/N). What the fuck. You know better than that, to not be around fucking filth and dirt." He whispered in low raspy whisper.
Billy, a man known for his harsh judgments, despised the trailer park. It was something he deemed utterly disgusting.
He finally arrived at Forest Hill’s Trailer Park, the scene illuminated by the sharp glare of his headlights. Rows of battered trailers stood in silence. He took in the view, his lip curling in disgust as he glanced around , finally spotting Eddie’s trailer, a paint peeling, porch drooping mess.
“Fucking Munson.” He spat, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel.
——————————————————————————-
(Y/N’s) pov -
Hours melted away as you, Eddie and Eddie’s friends immersed yourselves in horror flicks. He eagerly introduced you to his collection of music tapes, filling the trailer with heavy metal that vibrated through the entire park. You were shocked that no one complained, everyone here was so laid back.
Eddie piled you with blankets, offered an endless amount of drinks and handed you stacks of towels for your hair, unsure how many a girl might need.
He was doing everything he could to distract you from the pain you were feeling. Your face was puffy, eyes bloodshot and red raw, hair still damp from the rain and despite the blankets, you were still freezing.
Surprisingly, Eddie managed to keep you laughing, but the laughter died quickly as the roar of Billy’s Camaro ripped through the trailer park, headlights cutting through the windows and blinding both of your visions.
“What, the fuck.” (Y/N) whispered.
“You okay?” Eddie asked, not aware of who was outside.
“Billy, he’s here. I don’t know how but he’s here, that’s him-“
Eddie cut your words short.
“That’s him! God, way to make an entrance man.” Eddie joked nervously, his friends laughing at his comment.
“I’m not ready to talk to him yet, Eddie. I don’t know how he found out where you lived, but please don’t tell him I’m here, please make him go away.” (Y/N) begged.
“Okay, okay.” Eddie huffed, standing up to leave the trailer and you behind with it.
You scrambled to the corner of Eddie’s sofa, landing next to a familiar face, Tommy H. What was -he- doing here?! You pushed the question aside and decided to just roll with it. Tommy clearly kept this side of his life hidden from Billy, probably afraid of being labelled a freak.
Billy took a long drag from his cigarette, the cherry glowing bright in the darkness of the night as he stepped out of his car.
The air was thick with the smell of the damp earth beneath him and sludges of dirt that was left from the recent storm, spread evenly across the trailer park.
He spotted Eddie heading his way, a lanky figure emerging from the shadowed doorway of the trailer. Billy smirked, resting a hand on the car roof.
“Can I help you?” Eddie asked, his voice confirming his identity, that slightly higher pitch and off key American accent you'd mentioned more than once, which didn't quite belong in Hawkins.
Billy chuckled, a nasty sound that echoed through the trailer park.
“So… You're the infamous Eddie Munson my girlfriend always talks about.” He sneered, laughing as he said it, a puff of smoke escaping with his words.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about, what can I do for ya, man? Need help finding the right trailer?”Eddie shot back, his eyes narrowed.
Billy slotted his cigarette between his lips, the movement sharp and deliberate. He shrugged off his brown leather jacket, the worn leather creaking as he discarded it to the ground behind him. He stepped forward, boots sinking in the mud beneath him and Eddie met him halfway, closing the distance between them until they were standing toe to toe, the air crackling with unspoken threat.
Eddie looked up to the man that towered him and you watched from a careful distance through the window.
“I’m looking for my girlfriend, little birdy told me she was here.” He revealed.
“Yeah uhh, I don’t know who you’re talking about man, must’ve got the wrong trailer.” Eddie replied, not knowing what to say.
“You sure? She’s small, long haired, bit of a bitch.” He joked, trying to rile Eddie up into admitting you were inside.
“Doesn’t ring a bell, sorry man.” Eddie said trying to sound convincing.
Billy nodded as he took another long drag on his cigarette before pulling it out sharply.
“You know, I don’t know this-“ Billy pauses, kissing his teeth with his tongue.
“This whole situation Munson it’s… it’s giving me the heebie jeebies.” Billy stated through a deep exhale of smoke.
“Why’s that man.” Eddie sighed, clearly annoyed.
Billy takes a final pull on his cigarette, blowing it towards eddies face.
“My girlfriend goes missing, all day. And then I find her with you, in your trailer… And you lie to me about it.” Billy said, his anger simmering just below the surface.
“God were you dropped to much as a child or what.” Eddie joked, a sadistic laugh escaping Billy’s mouth as he flicked his tongue across the fullness of his lower lip at a rapid pace, his irritation towards his comment extremely obvious.
“I don’t know what you don’t understand about what I just said man, she’s not here.” Eddie added, trying to play it cool.
Billy sighed and pointed his cigarette towards the window of eddies trailer.
“Then who is that.” Billy questioned, his tone sharp.
Eddies head snapped back and he quickly realised you weren’t as hidden as you both thought. Billy knew you was in there the moment he laid eyes on the trailer.
“Oh, shit.” Eddie sighed. “Listen-“ He started, but didn’t get to finish.
Billy shoved Eddie to the ground.
“Next time plant your feet.” He demands, delivering a painful blow to Eddie’s stomach with the boot on his foot.
You glanced over to the door of the trailer when you heard Billy’s heavy footsteps approaching.
The door slammed open, the sudden noise jolting everyone inside. Billy's eyes widened in disbelief as he took in the sight of Tommy H sitting extremely close to you.
"Well, well, well. Tommy Hagan. What a surprise." Billy spat out in a sinister tone.
Tommy immediately stood up, but Billy was quicker, rushing to stand directly in front of him, blocking any chance of escape.
Panic surged through you as you scrambled to your feet. The situation was spiraling out of control faster than you could process.
As if on cue, Eddie's friends began to file out of the trailer, sensing the tension in the air. Soon, it was just the three of you inside, with Eddie still sprawled on the ground outside, oblivious to the escalating conflict.
"It's not what it looks like, man.” Tommy stammered, desperately trying to diffuse the situation.
"Yeah, sure looked pretty fucking cozy to me.” Billy stated, his eyes burning with anger.
In one swift motion, he pinned Tommy against the flimsy aluminium wall of Eddie's trailer.
“If you go near her again I will break every bone in your god damn body, do you understand?” Billy demanded.
“Yeah man. I won’t, I swear.” Tommy choked in fear.
Billy let go, tossing Tommy to the side. Tommy scrambled up and bolted out of the trailer. Eddie appeared right after him, clutching his side and wincing.
"You okay, (Y/N)?" Eddie gasped, leaning heavily against the doorframe.
“Yeah, Eddie, I'm... I'm okay." (Y/N) managed, though her voice trembled slightly.
Billy turned to Eddie, a harsh laugh escaping him as he watched Eddie struggle to catch his breath.
“Seen as though (Y/N) won't listen to me, maybe you will. Stay away from her. STAY, AWAY FROM HER!" Billy's voice was a loud, menacing growl.
Eddie, despite his pain, smirked and huffed.
“You bet." He said, having no intention of following Billy's order.
"Let's go, now." Billy said, turning his intense gaze on you. He held out his hand, palm up, a silent command.
Your heart hammered against your ribs. You took a few shaky breaths, trying to regain some composure. You found a slither of courage, enough to say...
“No.”
“What?" Billy questioned, a mix of confusion and disbelief on his face at your unexpected outburst.
"I said, no." (Y/N) stated, her voice trembling slightly but holding a newfound firmness.
"What the fuck has gotten into you, huh? Do you know how worried I've been, how long I've looked for you, who I had to fucking go to?" He asked, his voice rising with each word.
"I don't care. Just leave. I'm staying at Eddie's tonight." (Y/N) declared, trying to sound braver than she felt.
"No, you're not. Out, now.” Billy said, his patience clearly wearing thin.
"Billy, FUCK OFF! Please, for the love of God!” (Y/N) exclaimed, the plea laced with a desperate frustration.
“Hey!" Billy's voice rose, his hands shooting out to grip your upper arms, not painfully, but firmly, holding you in place.
“Easy.” He said, his eyes narrowing slightly, trying to control your anger and calm you down.
“Or, what.” (Y/N) mocked.
“Watch it.” He said, his voice low and raspy.
You shoved at his chest with all of your strength, not that it moved him much, but the gesture conveyed your feelings and Billy seemed to understand, releasing his hold, a confused expression taking over his features.
"(Y/N), what the fuck is going on with you?" He asked, his voice laced with concern and a hint of frustration.
“You! You're what's going on! Did you think I wouldn't fucking find out, Billy? Huh?" (Y/N) demanded, her voice louder, echoing in the confined space.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Billy countered, his brow furrowed in confusion.
“Why don’t you tell me?” (Y/N) questioned with a hint of sarcasm.
“Because I don’t know.” Billy answered, growing more frustrated by the second.
"Your father... He told me everything.” (Y/N) revealed, the words hanging heavy in the air.
A flicker of understanding flashed in Billy's eyes and he realized that Neil had been injecting your brain with bullshit and lies. He should have trusted his instincts when his father hadn't caused a riot over you being in the house in the first place.
“And what exactly, did he tell you (Y/N)?” He asked, his jaw tightening and his words measured.
"He said that I'm not the only whor-“ (Y/N) choked out, voice cracking and tears welling up in her eyes. "That I’m not the only whore you bring around.” She sobbed.
"(Y/N), I spend all my time with you. How can you believe this shit? This is-“ He tried to continue but you cut him off.
"And then he told me to check your drawer if I didn't believe him, that I'd see the truth for myself.” (Y/N) confessed, her voice trembling, tears streaming down her face.
"You went through my shit?” Billy asked, his voice barely a whisper, a mixture of hurt and disbelief in his eyes.
"Yes, God, yes, Billy, I went through your shit and saw the fucking collection of hair ties you keep stored from God knows who!” (Y/N) cried out, her voice thick with emotion.
Billy paused, a single tear escaping and tracing a path down his cheek. He lowered his gaze, his shoulders slumping slightly.
"They're my mother's.” He said, his voice cracking with vulnerability.
"Wh-what?" (Y/N) stammered, her anger momentarily forgotten, replaced by a surge of confusion.
"They're my mom's, (Y/N)! They, are my mom's!" He repeated, his voice rising with emotion.
"And I don't care that you went through my shit, do what you want I don’t care, I have nothing to hide. But you could have at least told me what was going on before you stormed out of the house and disappeared for fucking hours.” He added, his voice laced with pain.
"Billy, I..." You started, reaching out to him, but he stopped you with a raised hand.
"It doesn't matter. This is my father's fault.” He huffs, dragging his sweaty palms down his face as he catches his breath.
“Here's what we're going to do. You're going to gather whatever you brought here and you're going to get in my car and we, are going to go home and forget this ever happened. Is that problem?" He asked, his eyes searching yours.
"No, I'm sorry, Billy. I'm so sorry.” You pleaded, your voice filled with remorse.
"What I just say, huh? It's not your fault. Just forget about it. Grab your things. Let's go.” He urged, his voice softer now, filled with a desperate need to fix things.
"My shoes are wet." You sniffled, holding up the soaked, white, converse shoes you’d trekked to Eddie’s trailer in.
You clutched them tight in your hands and without a word, Billy bent down and scooped you up into his arms, cradling you like a baby.
"Is that everything? Nothing else you need?" He questioned.
"No.” You responded softly, burying your face in his neck.
Billy's boot connected with the trailer door, sending it crashing outward. He spun around, slamming it shut as you tried to say,
"Thank you, Eddi-“ Your words were swallowed by the resounding slam. Billy, his jaw tight, moved away with you cradled in his arms. Relief washed over him, finding you unharmed and okay, but a simmering anger still bubbled at the thought of other guys being near you.
You felt a sharp stab of guilt, remembering your earlier doubts and a swell of sadness that pulled behind your eyelids.
"A fucking trailer park." He spat, the words laced with sarcasm and disgust.
"Shut up, it's nice.” you said, a playful challenge in your voice.
Billy shot you a look that screamed ‘you’re crazy’ then gently settled you into the passenger seat of his car. He reached into the back, retrieving your favorite blanket and draped it over you with a tenderness that masked his earlier aggression.
He shut the door with a soft click and rounded the hood, opening his door and sliding in beside you. The car filled with the sharp exhale of his breath. He turned to you, his head cocked slightly, eyes glued to yours.
"Don't ever pull that shit again, you hear me? 'Cause next time I'll make sure he can't walk. Same goes for the rest of the freaks that were in there with ya.” He threatened, the words a low rumble.
The engine roared to life and Billy raced out of the trailer park, the gravel and dirt spitting behind the tyres.
He drove you straight home, where he'd end up staying, again. It was becoming a routine, a comfortable habit neither of you seemed to mind. Billy might as well have moved in, he spent more time at your place than he did his own.
Your father, the chief of Hawkins police, had been called in for another late shift , one of the many perks of his position, or so he sarcastically claimed.
Billy carried you up the stairs, still cradled in his arms, his grip surprisingly gentle.
"You are not getting into bed with me like that, the smell of Munson's filthy trailer is still stuck to your skin. You're getting in the shower.” He declared, a playful mockery in his voice.
“Come on, it's not that bad.” You giggled, though you knew the stench of Eddie's trailer was, in fact, quite potent, a smell that clung to everything in its path. You buried your face in Billy's neck, playfully trying to transfer the smell.
After a few more teasing comments, Billy turned on the shower for you. The bathroom filled with the sound of rushing water and the air grew thick with steam. You stepped inside, the warm water rolling down your back, washing away the grime and the lingering scent of Eddie's trailer, along with the tension of the evening.
You jumped, startled by the sudden feeling of a presence behind you. Billy had gotten in to join you, a mischievous glint in his eyes, intending to help you wash your hair, in which he did.
After a few more passing moments, he whirled you around, him now under the shower head and you replacing his position, the curls of his mullet flattening against his face as the water rushed over him.
"I love you, okay?" He said, his voice soft.
One hand was firmly around your back, grounding you, while the other cupped your cheek, his thumb rubbing softly against it in a comforting rhythm.
"I'd never do anything to hurt you, or upset you and I definitely would NOT, cheat on you. You're the only person I want, I promise. No one else even interests me, just you. I love you… And only you, you got that?" Billy asked, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt.
"Okay, I got it, I love you too, Billy.” (Y/N) replied softly, her heart swelling with affection.
He spat water at you from his mouth playfully, breaking the intensity of the moment and you pushed his face back. He lifted you with one arm over his shoulder with surprising ease, his laughter echoing in the small space as he did it.
Stepping out of the shower with you still dangling from his shoulder, he slipped you off and placed you gently on your feet, wrapping a soft towel around you and cuddling you into his chest after he did it. The warmth of his body excited you, a comforting shield against the cool air.
Billy placed a soft kiss on the top of your head, a silent promise of comfort and affection, before pinching your chin and tilting your head up to meet his gaze. His eyes were filled with a love so profound it made your heart ache in the best way possible.
He had missed you all day, every moment feeling more and more empty without you by his side, he was so happy to have you back in his arms, exactly where you belonged. Not a single thought went through his mind before he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours.
The kiss grew hungrier, needier in fact. You allowed his tongue to enter your mouth and he flicked it against yours , latching back onto your lips after he’d done it. A few more seconds passed and he finally broke free, leaving a darker blush of pink swelling on your lips.
"You ready to go to sleep?" He asked, breaking the silence and smiling down at you.
“Yeah, I’m ready.” (Y/N) answered softly, leaning into his embrace, feeling safe and secure in his arms. The earlier anxieties of the day seemed to melt away, replaced by the simple joy of just being with him.
He kissed the tip of your nose gently and shook his head in disbelief, not understanding how he got so lucky with you.
“God, I love you.” He whispered.
“I love you too, Billy.” You whispered back, hands trailing from his abs to his chest, knowing exactly, what you were instigating.
“Bed, now.” He demanded.
Anyone for a part 5??? :)
Click here to read Pt.1 - Pt.2 and Pt.3
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keaganz · 3 days ago
Text
BILLY HARGROVE X READER
That’s My Girl. Pt.1
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Here's a little something while you wait for part 5 of 'You're Mine, You Know That.' This new fic actually goes back to the beginning, showing you how (Y/N) moved to Hawkins to be with Billy, which is before all the events in my previous fics. Enjoy!
**SUMMARY - A year after separating from Billy and settling into a new relationship, a call from Max changes everything. Her desperate plea to save Billy reignites old feelings, hinting at a reunion you've been waiting for, forcing you to confront where your heart truly belongs. Angry Billy, Soft Billy, Possessive Billy, Flayed Billy (only for a short while).
**TRIGGER WARNINGS - Violence towards an original character, Brody. Kissing, swearing, threatening language and possessive behaviour. I think that’s all :)
WORD COUNT - 6k
MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY !!!
i do not own the rights to the following characters, other than Brody Baker who I created myself, all other characters are created and owned by the Duffer Brothers- Stranger Things.
I do NOT consent to have my work posted , translated or published to any third party site or app. If anyone sees my work anywhere but here, it has been posted without my permission.
Requests open !!!!! :)
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You and Billy were deeply in love, a connection so strong it was indescribable and it was obvious to everyone around you. With you, Billy felt safe enough to let his guard down, even showing vulnerability. You brought a genuine happiness to his life. Others saw him as a thoughtless jerk who treated everyone so poorly, but with you, he was gentle, loving, and incredibly kind. It felt like a perfect dream unfolding, a perfect, beautiful reality.
Then, with a suddenness that was both shocking and cruel, that dream was shattered. One minute you were making plans for a future filled with promise. The next, a harsh twist of fate intervened, tearing you apart.
About a year ago, Billy moved from your sunny California hometown to a place you’d never heard of before, Hawkins, Indiana. The decision made by his father, Neil, had followed a painful realization that the distance between you both was simply too far to sustain your relationship. You'd made the difficult choice to break up, hoping that the separation would allow both of you to move on and build new lives, not that you could imagine yours without Billy.
However, Billy never truly moved on. He was miserable in Hawkins, constantly haunted by memories of your time together. He repeatedly told you that he would come back for you, willing to make the long journey to California whenever possible. But you wouldn't allow it. You insisted that the constant travel would be too much of a struggle for him and you genuinely hoped that he would find a way to start a better life in Hawkins.
Despite your attempts to encourage him to move forward, Billy remained fixated on the past. He would call you late at night, his voice filled with longing and regret, recounting cherished moments and vowing to return. Each conversation was a painful reminder of what you had lost, a pain that teared through your chest, even across the miles. The weight of his unhappiness was a heavy burden for you to bear, knowing that your decision to end the relationship had caused him so much pain.
While Billy was struggling with his unhappiness in Hawkins, you found yourself seeking solace in the arms of a new boyfriend, Brody Baker. It was no secret that Billy despised Brody and that’s why you could never bring yourself to tell him about your relationship. Oddly enough, Brody reminded you of Billy in some ways, a similarity that both attracted and disturbed you. In truth, you had gotten together with Brody as a distraction, a way to numb the pain of missing Billy so intensely. But as your relationship with him deepened, you found that Brody wasn’t actually very nice to you at all, he’d often make fun of your clothes and the music you liked, leaving you humiliated and hurt.
Billy found it increasingly difficult to contact you with you never being home to pick up his calls. You spent most of your time at Brody's house, immersed in a new routine that seemed designed to keep Billy away. Yet, despite the physical distance and the new relationship, Billy never truly left your mind. You loved him, you’d always, love him. Something you couldn’t feel for Brody, though you’d tried.
Fleeting memories of your shared past would surface unexpectedly, stirring up a mix of longing and guilt. You told yourself that you would likely never see Billy again, that the chapter of your life you shared with him, was closed for good.
That was, until, last night, when the fragile sense of closure was shattered by a terrifying phone call from his sister, Maxine. Her voice was filled with panic, hinting at a crisis that threatened to unravel everything you thought you knew about Billy's new life in Hawkins.
“(Y/N), hello!" Maxine's voice burst through the phone, laced with a desperate urgency.
"Hey, Max, what's going on?" (Y/N) asked, her brows furrowing with concern.
"(Y/N), Billy needs you, I need you! I don't have time to explain right now, but can you please come to Hawkins? As soon as possible, please!" Maxine pleaded, her voice cracking with emotion.
"Max, me and Billy have been over for over a year. I can't just-" (Y/N) started, but Maxine swiftly cut her off.
"No, you don't understand. Things are happening in Hawkins, very BAD things. The Mind Flayer got into Billy. He keeps switching from Billy to someone I don't even recognize. He's hurting people, not like before, he’s really hurting people and-" You interrupted her, your mind reeling.
"Mind Flayer?" (Y/N) questioned, the words sounding like something out of a nightmare.
"It's like... a huge shadow monster. I know it sounds dumb, I didn't believe it at first either, but please, (Y/N), please believe me. You're our last hope, our last chance at helping Billy, please.” She begged, her voice trembling.
The call left you shaken and disoriented, Max's words echoing in your mind like a broken record. You struggled to make sense of the bizarre claims, but you trusted Max’s words. If Maxine, of all people, was saying things as strange as this, it had to hold some truth, no matter how unrealistic it seemed. You pushed aside your doubts and resolved to do what she asked.
"Alright, Max, I'll come. Just calm down and sit tight, okay?" (Y/N) said, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves.
"Okay, got a pen?" Max asked quickly.
You grabbed an old pen and a crumpled piece paper, jotting down a time and directions Max rattled off, guiding you to the community pool where Billy worked. You couldn't fathom why Max wanted you to go there instead of their house, but you trusted her judgment and her plan, clinging to the hope that you could somehow make a difference in this unfolding nightmare.
The conversation with Maxine lingered in the air, each word a heavy weight. You took a shaky breath, the scent of vanilla from your half burned candle doing little to calm your nerves. Hesitantly, you picked up the phone, your thumb hovering over the familiar digits before finally making the call. Brody answered on the third ring, his usual laid back tone grating against your frayed nerves.
"Hey.” (Y/N) began, her voice trembling slightly. "Maxine needs me... Billy... he needs me too. Something's happening and I need to get to Hawkins." She rushed the words, a desperate plea laced within them.
There was a pause, a beat of silence that felt like an eternity.
“Are you crazy? Hawkins? Do you know how far that is? You're asking me, your boyfriend, to take you to Billy, your ex-boyfriend, to help him because he's having a hard tim-“ Brody stopped abruptly, the air thick with unspoken resentment.
A sinister chuckle then filled the line.
“Sure, I'll take ya." He said.
Relief washed over you, but it was quickly tainted by the unsettling tone in his voice. It wasn't about helping, it was about something else entirely. Brody wanted to take you, wanted to parade you in front of Billy like a prize, a trophy. He wanted to see Billy's reaction, to assert his dominance.
It wasn’t long after the phone call until Brody beeped the horn outside of your house, the sound a sharp, impatient blare that echoed in the tense silence. You’d thrown on whatever clothes you could find. Tight black shorts that hugged your thighs like a second skin, a faded black tank top clinging to your torso and Billy’s old denim jacket that Brody thought was yours, the worn fabric still carrying a faint trace of his familiar scent. You paired everything with your black Converse to match the look. Usually you’d go for the white option, preferring lighter, brighter clothes, but today, you felt like matching your clothes with your mood, dark and heavy.
You rushed outside to get inside the car. The gravel crunched sharply under the hard soles of your shoes as you practically yanked the passenger door open. Brody was already smirking and leaning back in his seat like he owned the place… And you. You slid in, avoiding his gaze and slamming the door shut with a hollow thud. The sooner you got this over with, the better.
——————————————————————————-
The drive was an endless blur of long, winding roads and hazy landscapes, the only thing you’d seen for hours were gas stations and public bathrooms. Each pit stop was a fresh wave of exhaustion, impatience gnawing at your insides like a persistent hunger, until finally, the headlights of the car caught the faded wording of the 'Welcome to Hawkins' sign. A wave of relief washing over you.
Driving through Hawkins, you kept your eyes peeled, judging every little detail of the town Billy was forced to call home. The cookie cutter houses, the overgrown lawns, the crushing stillness of the air. You started to realize why Billy hated it here, why he felt trapped and suffocated.
You pulled out the crumpled piece of paper from your pocket, the edges softened and frayed from repeated folding and unfolding and started navigating your boyfriend, Brody, to the community pool. You took a few wrong turns down eerily quiet streets, each one more unsettling than the last, until finally, you spotted a familiar shock of red hair in the distance.
Max.
You could spot that vibrant, defiant red head from a mile away.
Brody cut the engine and you practically dove out of the car, the sudden movement startling Maxine. She snapped her head back, her eyes widening as she saw you emerge from the darkness of the night.
"(Y/N)… You’re here!" Max exclaimed, her voice a mix of relief and disbelief.
"Wait there.” (Y/N) said to Brody, her voice sharp and tight, before rushing towards Max.
"Max, what's going on? Why are we here?" (Y/N) questioned, her eyes darting around the community pool, the only light source coming from the pale glow of the moon.
"Uhh- I thought you could just speak to Billy and, and, and make things better, you know? But things got worse, much, worse and now I don't know what to do. My friends are over there planning something.” Max said, pointing towards a small bunch of teenagers huddled near the pool entrance.
Lucas, Max, El, Will and Dustin were their names.
"Where is Billy?" (Y/N) questioned, her voice barely above a whisper.
"He's inside, showering.” Max said, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and desperation.
Fifteen minutes had crawled by, each second stretching into an eternity as Max explained the whole horrifying situation. You were startled, scared, even. This all seemed impossible, ripped from the pages of some twisted comic book, but you knew that Max was telling the truth. She'd never call you all the way out here in the dead of night if it wasn't.
The group of teens, their faces grim and determined, came over to the three of you and declared their plan to release the ‘Mind Flayer’ from Billy's body. 'It likes it cold'. The words echoed in your mind, a brief, chilling memory of Max's explanation. So, when they told you about trapping Billy in the sauna, a horrifying kind of logic clicked into place.
The teens made their way to the building of the community pool, gathering outside of the sauna, the humid night air heavy with tension. A human dummy was placed inside to catch Billy’s attention. Mike, on the other hand was the only one who went a different direction, disappearing into the shadows. He was going to be the one to lure Billy in, the bait in their desperate trap. And you, stopped back to inform Brody of what was about to happen.
——————————————————————————-
Billy’s pov -
Billy, fresh from his shower, tugged on his denim jeans at his locker, jumping up slightly as he did it, the damp denim clinging uncomfortably to his thighs. Before he could reach for a shirt, a sharp bang echoed from around the corner.
“Pool's closed.” He announced, followed by the unmistakable clatter of chains.
Irritated, Billy's wet feet slapped against the tile as he stalked toward the sound.
"Hey! Did you hear me? The pool is closed!" He yelled, hammering on the door, only to find it locked from the outside by strong, thick chains and steel padlocks.
"Billyyyy.” A sing-song voice taunted.
Billy spun around instantly.
“Who's there?" He asked, his voice low and menacing.
The taunting continued.
“Billyyyy."
“Who’s thereeee?” Billy sang back, voice still low and increasing with anger.
Billy yanked open shower curtains, checking every corner, his frustration mounting.
“You think this is funny, huh.” He said with a low, raspy voice.
"Come find me.”Mike giggled.
“I find you, it is your funeral.” Billy growled, lowering the bass in his voice.
Pacing through the steamy rooms, Billy's eyes finally landed on the sauna door. Through the small, square window… He spotted the dummy.
"Got you.” He grinned, rushing inside.
But his smile suddenly vanished as he realized it was a decoy. Grabbing the dummy by its neck, he forced it up high, his brows furrowed in fury.
“Hey, turn around.” Mike's voice crackled through the walkie-talkie that was taped to the dummy’s torso.
Billy whirled around, spotting the teens. Eleven stood firm, hand raised and with a surge of power, sent Billy flying into the wall behind him. The impact shattered the already cracked tiles around him as he crashed to the floor. Eleven slammed the sauna door shut and Billy quickly scrambled to his feet to escape, but Mike and Lucas had already jammed a silver pole through the door handle, securing it behind a nearby pipe, followed by yet another thick chain and steel padlock.
Billy's desperation escalated into a frenzy, his sweaty palms pounding against the door with a force that echoed through the entire place. Each failed attempt to break free only worsened his panic. He scanned the room, his eyes darting wildly until they locked onto Max's. A wave of disbelief washed over him.
“Max.” He whispered.
A beat of silence hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions. Max's gaze was unwavering, a complex mix of love and resentment swirling within her eyes. Finally, she broke the silence, her voice firm.
"Do it." The command hung in the air, a point of no return.
Mike, his face a mask of determination, darted to the side of the door. With a swift motion, he cranked the sauna's heat dial to its maximum setting. A surge of oppressive heat began to fill the box that Billy was trapped in, a silent promise of the torment to come. The air crackled with anticipation, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.
"MAX! LET ME OUT OF HERE!" Billy shouted, his voice cracking as he pounded on the door and window.
"Let me out.” He pleaded, his breath hitching.
"You kids… you think this… is funny? You think this is some kind of sick prank, huh?" Billy gasped, struggling to breathe.
He pulled his head back and spat against the window, leaving a long smear of saliva.
“YOU LITTLE SHITS THINK THIS IS FUNNY?" -
“What is this?" Billy asked, teeth gritted, shoulders rising and falling with a ragged breath.
"Open, the door, OPEN THE DOOR!" He screamed, voice escalating with each strike against the door.
"OPEN. THE DOOR!" Sweat drenched him as he continued his frantic assault.
"OPEN THE GOOD DAMN DOOR!" Billy roared, his final blows weakening until he collapsed onto the floor.
——————————————————————————-
(Y/N)'s pov -
Outside, you were explaining the situation to Brody when loud thuds echoed from inside snagging your attention.
"OPEN THE GOOD DAMN DOOR!" (Y/N) heard Billy shout, a wave of sadness washing over her at his pain.
“What the-“ Brody started, his voice trailing off as your footsteps quickened, darting towards the side door that had been left ajar for you by Mike.
You raced inside, bolting from room to room, following the trail of steam until you found the group of teens gathered before the sauna. You stood back, listening to Billy's screams and cries, each word breaking your heart and crushing something deep inside your chest.
"We're at two twenty.” Will announced, declaring the sauna's heat.
"It's not my fault, it's not my fault, it's not my fault Max, I promise it's not my fault.” Billy sobbed, huddled on the floor.
"What's not your fault, Billy?" Max questioned.
"I've done things, Max, really, bad things, but I didn't mean to… He made me do it.” Billy cried.
"Who made you do it?" She asked.
"I don't know… It’s like a shadow.” Billy whispered.
"IT'S NOT MY FAULT, MAX! PLEASE BELIEVE ME, PLEASE!" Billy shouted through floods of tears, laying his head on the wooden seats of the sauna and reaching for a sharp piece of tile from underneath.
"Jesus, Billy.” (Y/N) whispered to herself.
Will gripped his neck and turned to Mike.
“I feel him… He's activated." He stated, fear rushing across his eyes.
"Max, get away from the door!" Mike demanded.
"What?" She whispered.
"GET AWAY FROM THE DOOR!" He screamed.
Billy smashed the sharp tile through the window, shoving his arm and head through straight after, trying to reach for Max, a look of fear settled over her eyes as he started pounding on the door with the tile.
"AHHHHH, LET ME OUT YOU BITCH, LET ME OUT!" Billy screamed, banging at the door before pulling out the wedged pole from the handle, the chains remaining tight in place.
"Oh my god.” (Y/N) Said under bear breath, eyes wide and fixated on Billy.
Billy took a few steps back and ran at full speed straight ahead of him, slamming his body against the door followed by three more attempts after it. He reached out again, trying to get ahold of Maxine.
"LET ME OUT, LET ME OUT! I'LL FUCKING GUT YOU!" He threatened.
You took a few shaky steps forward, hands balled into fists and your nails digging into your sweat soaked palms.
“Billy.” (Y/N) whispered, a quiet, gasping exhale.
Billy froze, every muscle in his body locked in place. He remained motionless for several seconds. Was this real? The question echoed in his mind, demanding an answer he was terrified to voice.
The sound had sliced through Billy like a shard of ice, lodging directly into his chest. Your voice. It couldn't be. A wave of nausea washed over Billy as he slowly turned to face you.
The furrows etched between his brows, deepened by confusion and a lingering pain, began to smooth out, his eyes, previously narrowed in disbelief, widened, pupils dilating as if starved for light and the harsh lines of his face softened, replaced by a look of stunned awe. There, bathed in the soft glow of the room, you stood, a vision so beautiful, it stole the very breath from his lungs.
It WAS your voice, the comforting sound he'd dreamed of over countless nights.
“(Y/N)." He said, breathing heavily. "How… wh- what are you doing here?" He questioned while fighting an internal battle against the mind flayer.
You stood frozen, unsure of what to say or do, your eyes still locked heavily onto Billy's.
His breathing grew heavier the longer he stared back at you.
“Come here, please... come here." He pleaded, extending his arm out towards you.
"Don't!" Mike shouted. "It's a trap!"
"NO!" Billy roared, pounding his fist against the doorframe he was still partially hanging out of.
"Baby, don't listen to them, okay? It's me, I'm still me. Come here. I would never hurt you, you know that. Just come to me, please... I need to hold you." He pleaded.
"I can't, Billy.” (Y/N) managed to say, tears welling up in her eyes.
Billy pounded at the door a few more times, his frustration building rapidly.
“Damn it, yes, you can! Yes you can. Come to me, now, baby, please…(Y/N), please. Just let me hold you, it’s all I want I promise, please." His plea was a mix of desperation and anger, fueled by the fact that you were so close, but not close enough for him to reach you. The restraint only riled him up more.
“Open the door! Open the door!" He screamed, his gaze fixed on Max.
"BILLY, STOP!" (Y/N) shouted, her voice cracking slightly.
His head snapped back to you, the tension in his eyebrows quickly easing.
“I'm s- I'm sorry, baby... I'm sorry.” He stammered, his voice laced with regret.
You began to walk slowly towards Billy, your eyes locked on his and a nervous energy, now filling the space between you.
"(Y/N), STOP!" Mike yelled again, his voice filled with urgency.
"No, no, no, don't listen to them, listen to me, baby, come on.” Billy urged with his voice coated in desperation.
He extended his hand, palm open, fingers twitching with the need to touch you.
“Come on.” He repeated, his eyes pleading, silently begging you to ignore whatever phantom voices held you captive. With a surge of adrenaline, he pulled his hand back and forth, gesturing for you to come to him, to break free from whatever invisible chains bound you.
“That's it, baby... that's it. Come here, come to me. I got you. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise. Come to me... come on.” He whispered convincingly, his voice trembling with each deep, uneasy breath, tears now brimming in his eyes.
He watched as you reached for him, but he was quicker, propelled by a surge of adrenaline and a desperate need to bridge the impossible gap. Still hanging out the door, one arm strained, body swimming in the suffocating heat of the sauna, he lunged. His hand curled around your back, a desperate grasp and he hauled you forward until you were pressed against the barrier, the cruel door that kept you separated.
His breath came in ragged gasps, much heavier than before, a frantic rhythm against the backdrop of his rising panic. He dipped his head, resting his against yours, a fragile connection in the face of overwhelming darkness. Then, the dam broke. Tears streamed down his face, hot and uncontrolled.
"Let me out, baby, let me out, let me hold you.” He begged, each word a raw, desperate plea torn from the depths of his soul.
You cupped his cheek with your small, sweaty hand that was now imprinted with sharp nail dents. The gesture was a tender contrast to the chaos swirling around you. His gaze locked onto yours, his eyes searching, pleading and In that moment, you knew what you had to do. You had to flood his mind, break through the unwanted darkness with the light of your shared memories and remind him of the love that still burned within him.
And so you began.
You poured forth a torrent of images, sensations and emotions, the first time you met, the laughter that echoed through Billy’s beloved Camaro, the quiet nights spent tangled in each other's arms. For twelve excruciating minutes. You’d painted a vivid tapestry of your love, each memory a weapon against the insidious force that held him captive.
He focused on your words, clinging to them like a drowning man to a plank of wood, his eyes widening as each memory resurfaced, each shared moment strengthening his soul.
You watched, frozen in horror, as the Mind Flayer began its agonising departure from Billy's body. The creature stabbed and swirled within him, the wisps of shadows rising from his flesh as it forced its way out through every pore. Billy's body became a canvas of torment, his muscles spasming uncontrollably and his face held in a silent scream. You wanted to rush to him, to hold him, to somehow absorb his pain, but you knew you couldn't. You could only watch, helpless, as he endured the unimaginable.
When the last vestige of the Mind Flayer finally slithered away through the window, leaving a trail of viscous, black, slimy residue behind, Billy collapsed to the floor, a broken husk of the man you loved. He laid there, gasping for air, his body trembling with the aftershocks of the possession before violently throwing up the remaining slugs from the creature that had infested him, a cruel pile of black that seemed to carry so much evil inside of it. He laid still for a moment, gathering his strength, his face a mask of pain and exhaustion.
Until finally, he pushed himself to his feet, his movements shaky and uncertain. He peered through the window, his eyes searching for you, needing to confirm that you were still real, that you were actually here, in Hawkins, with him.
"Let me out.” He pleaded, his voice raw with desperation, his eyes begging for your touch.
Max rushed to the chains to unlock the door and you followed her closely, standing just outside, your heart pounding in your chest. Billy reached through the window, his hand trembling as he cupped your face, his gaze locked onto yours, a silent promise of reunion.
But then, a voice shattered the fragile moment.
"Hargrove." The word dripped with malice, laced with a sinister amusement that sent a shiver down your spine.
Billy's head snapped towards the sound, his eyes narrowing as he tried to decipher why Brody Baker, of all people, was here. The realization dawned on him quickly and his eyes blazed with fury as he shot a venomous glare in your direction. You instinctively reached for Max's hand, stopping her from opening the door.
“Why is he here?" Billy questioned, his voice deeper and more menacing than before.
“Max, away from the door.” You whispered with your eyes fixed on Billy, watching his every move.
"I'm here because MY GIRLFRIEND, asked me to bring her here, to babysit your ass.” Brody sneered, his voice full of arrogance.
A burning rage surged through Billy. He couldn't believe it. Out of everyone in the world, why did it have to be the one person he hates the most above all others? He threw himself against the door, slamming his body against the it with a force that threatened to snap the chains.
“He can't get out, right?" Max asked, her voice riddled with fear.
“No way, impossible.” Lucas reassured, but his voice lacked conviction.
With a final, desperate surge of strength, Billy burst through the door, sending padlocks in every direction. He stumbled out of the sauna and lunged towards Brody, his eyes burning with a murderous intent.
Brody's ‘tough guy’ act soon evaporated, replaced by a sharp terror. He knew he could mouth off when Billy was trapped, but now that he was free, he was defenseless against the storm of fury that was about to be unleashed.
Billy landed a series of brutal blows to Brody's face, causing Brody to fall flat against the floor, each punch fueled by years of resentment and a burning desire to protect you.
"Thought you could take MY girl, huh? Thought you could... Take her… From ME?! Thought you could, replace, ME?!" He screamed, each word punctuated by a brutal punch to Brody's face.
"Billy, stop!" Maxine screamed, her voice lost in the frenzy. But Billy was deaf to her pleas and consumed by a rage that fueled his relentless assault.
Another series of blows landed, each one a harder than the last.
“BILLY, ENOUGH!" (Y/N) finally demanded, her voice cutting through the haze of violence.
Billy's arm, cocked back for the final strike and froze mid air. Your voice, coated with a mixture of fear and desperation, had broken through his rage. He snapped his head in your direction and paused, his eyes locking onto yours, the fight seemed to drain out of him.
You were a mess of tears, hating the monster Billy had become. You never cared much for Brody, a fact that now twisted in your gut with guilt. You'd led him on, used him for comfort and the shame of it was a bitter taste in your mouth. But your heart ached for Billy, for the pain that had driven him to this.
He stood up, a raw, animalistic energy still radiating from him and rushed towards you, hesitating for a short moment before engulfing you into a crushing hug. His head buried in your hair, taking in your familiar scent that he’d longed for, for over an entire year and his arm secured gently, around your back. His knuckles were a canvas of blood and his skin radiated the boiling heat and sweat of the sauna.
“Billy, I'm s- I'm so sorry, I-" (Y/N) stammered, choked by her sobs.
He cut you off, his voice rough but tender.
“No, no sweetheart, I get it. Don't worry, it doesn’t matter anymore. You thought you'd never see me again, you needed a shoulder to cry on, I get it." He said softly.
You clung to him, the sobs clawing at your throat.
“You're staying here, with me. I'm not letting you go again, I can't. I only listened to you the first time because I thought you'd change your mind, but I won't do it again.” He declared, his voice leaving no room for argument.
He pulled back, his hands framing your face, thumbs gently wiping away the fresh tracks of tears.
"Don't do that to me again.” He pleaded, his voice thick with an emotion you mirrored.
"Stay here with me." He begged, his eyes searching yours for a silent answer.
“You can live at my place, with me and my dad, he’s the chief of Hawkins police, he'll let you stay with us for sure. He's a hero, too, he saved lots of lives, in a mall fire." El said with a smile, a genuine, hopeful smile that tugged at your heart.
You nodded, the agreement tumbling from your lips before you could even process it. You couldn't bear the thought of leaving Billy again, of losing the magnetic pull that had always drawn you back to him. You missed the electric touch of his skin against yours, the comforting weight of his arm around your shoulders that never failed to keep you safe, the way his presence filled every space around you with a familiar warmth. You sniffled, wiping your nose on the worn cuff of the denim jacket you were wearing… HIS, denim jacket.
Billy chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated between the both of you, as he pulled you closer.
"You kept it?" He asked, a hint of disbelief coloring his tone.
You smirked, the remaining tears still clinging to the wisps of your lashes.
“Yeah, I never stopped wearing it. Even slept with it sometimes." (Y/N) said.
The sound of shuffling feet broke the soft, almost romantic moment.
Brody, looking like a wounded animal, found the strength to stand, staggering slightly as he did.
"(Y/N), get your shit together.” He slurred, his voice laced with a desperate plea.
Billy's head snapped up, his eyes narrowing as he fixed Brody with a cold stare.
"We're leaving.” Brody demanded with his voice cracking.
Billy turned his head back to you, his gaze intense, a silent question hanging in the air. A look that said, 'show him who you belong to'.
The message was clear and the response was instinctive.
You walked over to Brody and without a word, punched him square in the face. The force of the blow surprised both you and Billy. You don't know why you did it, but in that moment, it felt like the only possible way to make it all up to Billy, that and the fact he kind of deserved it for the year of torment he gave you over your clothes and music taste.
"We're over.” (Y/N) stated, the words ringing with a finality that settled like a stone.
A loud, uncontrollable laugh erupted from Billy as he stalked towards you, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He dipped to your height and his chin rested beside your face and onto your shoulder, then he looked up at Brody with a playful glint in his eyes.
“That's my girl!" He chuckled proudly, squeezing you tighter as he said it.
“Thanks for bringing her back to me, man. You can go home now. I'll be taking MY GIRLFRIEND home with me." He mocked, his voice dripping with possessive arrogance.
Brody's face scrunched with rage and defeat.
“Fuck you, Hargrove.” He spat before turning and scurrying out of the place, leaving you standing there, caught between the wreckage of one relationship and the undeniable pull of another.
Max smiled and turned to leave through the fire exit, the rest of the teens followed, understanding the need for a private moment between you and Billy.
You turned in Billy’s arms and his eyes met yours, a genuine, heart stopping smile lit up his face, revealing those perfectly shaped teeth.
“I love you, Billy.” (Y/N) confessed, the words tumbling out, raw and honest. “I tried to fight it, to numb myself to the feeling, but I can’t anymore. I love you so much, and I’m so sorry for not telling you about Brody.” (Y/N) stated as regret flooded in her chest.
Billy's grip tightened slightly.
"I know, baby.” He whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I love you too. I’ve been a mess, so God damn miserable without you. But I needed you and you came for me, just like I knew you would." He paused, his eyes searching yours.
“My dad’s gone for the week, took Susan, said something about a stupid vacation. Max wanted to stay, so he made me stay back to babysit. Will you come home with me? We can forget about all of this for tonight and then figure out the rest tomorrow, I’ll take you over to El’s and explain everything to Hopper and get you settled in.” He pleaded.
A wave of relief washed over you and a tear escaped, tracing a path down your cheek.
“Yes.” (Y/N) breathed out, the word filled with all the hope and love she thought she’d lost.
Billy's hands found your face, pulling you into him as he latched onto your lips. The kiss was intense, urgent, a raw expression of need. He kissed you aggressively, his tongue tangling with yours as you both gasped for air. It was a wild, desperate dance, a silent conversation of longing and reunion that Billy had craved for the past year.
The world seemed to fade away until finally, the kiss broke, leaving you both breathless and flushed as a long string of saliva that met at the fullness of your lips, snapped.
Without a word, Billy scooped you up into his arms, a groan escaping his lips as the movement sent a jolt of pain through his body from the pain he’d just endured. Ignoring it, he held you securely, determination plastered on his face. He turned and strode out of the building, the other teens trailing behind, giggling at how soft Billy was for you, it was something they’d never witnessed from him before… Ever.
As you reached the outside, a familiar click echoed in your ears. It was the unmistakable sound of Billy’s Camaro door. The car you had both cursed and loved, the car you swore would be the death of you both one day, yet the car you had missed with an ache you couldn't explain. It was a symbol of so many memories, a promise of reckless freedom and shared adventures.
No one other than Max had sat in your seat since he moved to Hawkins, not a single soul had dared to occupy the space you once held, not that Billy would’ve let them.
Maxine scrambled to the back seat and the rest of the teens made their way home.
Billy gently slid you down into the worn leather that had been waiting for you, for what seemed like a lifetime and eternity, his touch lingering for a moment, longer than necessary. He rounded the hood, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips and opened the driver's side door, settling in comfortably beside you.
You glanced into the backseat and a surprised smile lit up your face.
“My blanket.” (Y/N) breathed, reaching out to touch the familiar fabric.
“Yeah.” Billy said, a hint of sheepishness in his voice. "It's uh, it's still there. Always kept it. Sometimes I sleep in my car when shit goes sideways with my dad so uh, I don’t know, the smell of it reminded me of you, when you'd calm me down after a fight with him." He chuckled softly, a touch of vulnerability in his eyes.
"Billy, I'm not going to leave again.” (Y/N) said, her voice laced with sincerity. "I'm sorry, okay? I wish I never did." A wave of regret washed over (Y/N) as she remembered the pain she had caused. "I love you.” She whispered, the words carrying the weight of her remorse and renewed commitment.
“I love you too, sweetheart.” He replied, his voice thick with emotion and his hand reaching out to grip your thigh.
“You ready?" (Y/N) asked, a hopeful glint in her eyes.
Billy started the engine, and it roared to life, the familiar sound filling the car. The interior was exactly how you remembered, the worn leather seats, the scent of cheap cologne and cigarettes that burned at your nostrils. A strange combination that transported you back to stolen moments.
Billy couldn't wait to get you back to his house, to hold you in his arms all night long, to erase the distance that had separated you for such a long time. He shifted the car into gear, the movement smooth and practiced, and said,
"Yeah, baby, let's get outta here."
The car lurched forward, carrying you both away from the shadows of the past and towards the promise of a brand new future together, a future that definitely didn’t consist of Billy beating everyone’s ass or being in pain.
Or as you’d hoped…
I may do a part 2 depending on y’all’s opinions?? :)
Let me know if you’d like a part 2 to this or a part 5 to You’re Mine, You Know It first :)
Click here to read the You’re Mine, You Know That series.
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keaganz · 3 days ago
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*heavy breathing*
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A Monstrous Nature
So excited to finally be able to post my gift fic for the @harringrove-summer-exchange, for @keaganz! She listed the following as things she'd like to see in the fic, and I think I may have got them all: Top Billy/Bottom Steve, Upside-Down shenanigans, angst with a happy ending, smut, hurt/comfort. Hope you like it!
It was absolutely inspired by @safk-art's stunning Demo Steve art, highly encourage everyone to go check that out.
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Rating: Explicit Pairing: Billy Hargove/Steve Harrington WC: 6,018 Content Warnings: Blood and gore (canon-typical) Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Angst with a Happy Ending, Billy Hargrove Lives, Demogorgon Steve Harrington, Canon-Typical Violence, Tentacle Sex, Top Billy Hargrove, Bottom Steve Harrington, Monster Steve Harrington, Monsterfucker Billy Hargrove, Light Dom/sub, Bathing/Washing, Insecurity, Blood and Injury, Rimming, Anal Sex Summary:
Billy follows Steve into the Upside Down during one of his patrols, against Steve's wishes. He sees Steve's monstrous side, but the effect is not what Steve expected.
Full fic is on AO3, excerpt is below.
divider by @/strangergraphics
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Steve was in a terrible mood as he patrolled the Upside Down looking for demo-creatures to cull. Billy had been livid when Steve left for the evening. He'd been in the trenches of another explosive argument after Billy demanded to come with Steve on his patrol. It was an argument they'd had repeatedly over the year they'd been together. Every time the group located another gate, Steve went in to clear the area in the Upside Down and ensure no demo-creatures leaked into Hawkins. And every time, Billy wanted to come help him.
Steve winced as he went back over the things they'd yelled at each other this time. He was particularly ashamed of calling Billy a "boringly human Upside Down reject". But in his defense, he'd said it after Billy had called him a "deranged flower-faced shit". Steve had slammed the door so hard on his way out of the house that he'd heard glass breaking in the living room.
He didn't understand why Billy insisted on trying to come with him. Steve was uniquely well-suited to this task after all the changes he'd undergone from the demodog bites in the tunnels. Billy, thanks to early intervention from Steve when he'd noticed the creeping presence of the Mind Flayer, was still fully human. He couldn't take on packs of demodogs in the Upside Down and come out unscathed, not the way Steve could.
Steve was pulled from his perseveration by rustling sounds in the trees around him. The gate had appeared near the Henderson house this time, bordering a patch of woods nearby. The human portion of his ears picked up only a vague rustling, and he was unable to accurately place the size and location of whatever was pursuing him.
He focused on the delicate seams along his jaws, instructing his muscles to release the tension holding them together. His head unfurled like a flower, his face opening to reveal a central gaping maw and five petal-like structures lined with razor-sharp teeth.
His senses unfolded along with his head. He could feel the vibrations of the world around him with the thin filaments that filled the spaces between all of the teeth. He could smell so much more with the olfactory organs hidden at the core of the mouth than he could with his human nose.
His brain parsed the new influx of vibrations and scents, sifting through the information to tell him that there were two demodogs in the trees to his right. They weren't even particularly big ones. This would be easy. He flexed his hands, popping his claws out of their sheaths, and waited.
The two demodogs burst from the trees, heading straight toward him. He caught a whiff of an out-of-place scent just before he heard a full-throated human scream. Someone threw themself between Steve and the demodogs.
He placed the scent a moment later - Billy. The fucker had followed Steve in.
Steve felt the vibrations in the air as Billy swung something long and wooden at the closest demodog, hitting it across the torso. He must've stolen Steve's bat. The demodog howled as the conical shape of its head unfurled. The second demodog dove at Billy while he was distracted. Steve sensed the movement in the air as the dog's mouth snapped near Billy's bare arm.
Steve threw himself at the second demodog, driving it to the ground and biting its head off before it could fight back. The first demodog had its mouth wrapped around the bat now, and was slowly pulling Billy toward it.
Steve raked his claws across its torso and it dropped the bat with a startled yelp. He grabbed its head between his two clawed hands, flexing the modified muscles there, and wrenched it sharply to the side. Its neck snapped and the head partially tore free from the body, spurting blood all over Steve.
Steve turned to Billy. He slowly furled the petals of his head, fitting them together to reform his face. Billy stared at him with wide eyes and an indecipherable expression on his face.
Billy hadn't been fully himself during the fight with the Mind Flayer, when the party had come together to save him from its grasp before it could get a firm hold in his mind. He didn't remember what Steve had done then to protect everyone. And since then, Steve had tried to keep this violent, monstrous side of himself from Billy as much as possible. Why had Billy followed him?
Before Steve could descend fully into his burgeoning worries, he picked up on a set of new vibrations with his lingering demo-senses. He could tell even from a distance that it was much bigger than a pair of demodogs.
"We need to go, now!" Steve snapped. He grabbed Billy by the arm and started to run back toward the gate.
Billy shook off his arm and planted his feet. "What? Why? I can help you if there's something else coming!"
Steve grabbed Billy's arm again and tugged. Billy didn't budge. "No, you can't. You're human. What if one of them bites you, and you turn into a fucked up demo-creature?"
Billy shrugged. "Then we'll match."
Steve let out a strangled cry. He gave up on trying to convince Billy. He used his preternatural strength to grab Billy around the waist and throw him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Billy yelled. He beat his fists against Steve's back hard enough to bruise. "Put me down, you sick fuck!"
Steve ignored him and bolted for the gate. He could sense multiple full-grown demogorgons approaching them, probably three, as well as a handful of demodogs. They were getting closer fast. There was no way Steve was going to beat them to the gate with Billy's added weight to carry.
He scanned his surroundings. About 100 feet ahead of them was a large clearing. If Steve could get there, he'd at least be able to fight the hoard with a clear line of sight. He sprinted toward it as he felt the pursuers approaching.
Steve dropped Billy to the ground. Billy's eyes went wide as his limited ears finally picked up on the noises of the demogorgons.
"Shit," he muttered. He stood up, gripping the nail bat.
"Stand with your back to me," Steve said. "Swing as hard as you can whenever they come at you." Dread crept through his veins. He didn't want to lose Billy.
As the first demogorgon crashed into the clearing, Steve unfurled his head and squeezed out his claws. The demogorgon darted straight for Steve. Steve dealt with it easily with a swipe from his claws, knocking it to the side with a gaping wound in its abdomen. It wasn't dead, but that would slow it down considerably.
Steve was stronger and faster than the demogorgons. Taking on three would usually be no problem for him. But adding Billy into the mix was really going to fuck with his methods.
He felt Billy swing his bat at a demodog as the second demogorgon rushed Steve. He tried the same move on this one, but it dodged and swiped at Steve with its own claws. Steve took the hit, not wanting to interfere with Billy's fight by moving back to dodge. Pain seared through his abdomen as the claws tore his skin, but he knew it would heal fast. Demo scratches and bites never stuck around for long on his body.
He feinted with his claws again then lunged for the demogorgon's neck with his mouth as it dodged his claws. He sank his teeth into the meat there and tore, pulling a large amount of circulatory system back out with him. The demogorgon fell to the ground, twitching as it bled out.
Billy grunted behind him as a demodog yelped. The final demogorgon circled around in an attempt to go for Billy instead of Steve. That wouldn't do. Steve launched himself at the demogorgon, abandoning Billy in favor of taking this monster down before it got to him.
Steve scuffled with the demogorgon, taking a few more scratches and one nasty bite before he managed to latch onto its neck. He felt several demodogs piling up on his back, biting and scratching. Good, that meant they weren't going for Billy. He ripped out the demogorgon's throat, then grabbed the two demodogs off his back and threw them into the trees. He heard them yelp, then flee into the trees.
He turned back to Billy. He could sense one final demodog circling Billy as the other man waved the bat in front of him. The demodog lunged for Billy, wrenching its jaws open just as Steve reached him.
Steve gripped the last demodog around the head just before its jaws snapped shut on Billy's neck. He shut its mouth and continued to squeeze, increasing pressure with his huge, clawed hands. He kept going until the entire conical head popped beneath his hands in a startling explosion of gore. It sprayed across Billy's face and the front of his body, coating him in blood and brain matter and bits of flesh.
Billy sputtered, spitting chunks of flesh out of his mouth. "Fucking ew," he muttered, wiping a hand across his face.
Steve surveyed the scene. Two demodogs lay dead at Billy's feet in addition to the last one that Steve had killed. The wounded demogorgon was long gone. There were no surviving demodogs in the area.
Steve drew in the petals of his head, but kept his claws unsheathed. "Did you get bit?" Steve asked, once he had a human mouth again.
Billy shook his head. He was covered in gore, but Steve hoped it was mostly demo-blood.
"Let's get out of here," Steve said. He'd done what he came here to do - cleared the area around the floating gate of creatures before they could make their way into Hawkins. They needed to get back before the gate closed. No one had been able to figure out why these floating gates kept appearing, but they never stayed open for more than a day. Steve tried to only spend two hours tops on the inside, to make sure he didn't get stuck.
Steve couldn't decipher the look on Billy's face, but after what he had just seen Steve do, it couldn't mean anything good. He'd get Billy back to safety and make sure to take care of any of his wounds before Billy inevitably broke up with him.
Billy followed Steve silently to the gate and back into Hawkins.
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Looking for the comfort? Finish the fic on AO3!
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keaganz · 4 days ago
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twitch_live
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keaganz · 5 days ago
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In Dutch, we have the saying "Waar het hart vol van is, loopt de mond van over" and that's very fitting for this situation. The literally translation is, "what the heart is full of, spills out of the mouth". Mean that people like talking about things that interest and fascinate them. Do with that information we you will 😏
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Robin: Explain again why you said the thing about creaming his pants?
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keaganz · 5 days ago
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you must be a dream - eddie munson part 1
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virgin!perv!Eddie Munson x popular!cheerleader!Carver!fem!reader
some fwb!king!Steve Harrington x reader
Masterlist Tag Lists
Summary:
Eddie can’t help being obsessed with you, even though he knows you’re unattainable. The single most popular girl in school - and the hottest he’s ever seen. Maybe he takes his infatuation a little too far, but who can blame him when you look like that? Besides - sometimes dreams do come true.
Part 2 next week
Warnings:
Smut (18+), like a lot of smut, masturbation, unprotected p in v, creampie, voyeurism, public sex, mild dubcon (drunk sex), perv behavior, panty stealing/sniffing, looking up skirts, toxic relationship (with steve), virgin!eddie, perv!eddie, sub!eddie, experienced!reader, king!steve is an asshole
Word Count: 14.1k
A/N:
This is an Eddie romance but there is a lot of smut with Steve in this part - just so you’re prepared! When I say perv!Eddie, I mean it. Big thanks to @punkrockmlchael for my banner, beta reading, and helping me with Corroded Coffin dialogue, and to @writhingg for always being an amazing beta reader!!
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Eddie’s hand slid up and down his slick cock, sufficiently lubed up with a mixture of precum and his own saliva. His stomach muscles tightened with every stroke, his head thrown back and eyes closed as he pictured you.
“Fuck,” he breathed out quickly, thumb swiping over his slit, making him moan pathetically.
He opened his eyes. He looked over to the yearbook he held in his left hand, propped open to the only page he ever looked at - your cheerleading portrait. Your beautiful face, your tits in that tight top, your legs in that tiny little skirt. God, how badly he wanted to bend you over, lift that skirt up-
His hips bucked up into his fist involuntarily, a whimper of your name escaping his lips. He had been holding off his orgasm for a while, bringing himself down every time he was on the edge before taking himself back there. Now he didn’t know if he could hold off- he was going to cum, hard.
“You like that?” he whispered to your picture, eyes locked on you. “Y’like when I fuck you like this? Taking this thick cock in your little pussy?” A shaky groan clawed its way out of his throat, his eyes fluttering closed before he snapped them open to look at you again.
“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum,” he whined. “You’re gonna make me cum so hard. Gonna give it to you, give you everything.”
His eyes traveled up your body in your yearbook photo, lingering on your tits before finally locking in on your face.
“Shit.” He moaned your name in a shaky breath, imagining you were here with those pretty pink lips wrapped around his shaft - or maybe balls deep in your pussy, watching your perfect ass bounce and listening to you make the most delicious noises as he fucked you hard from behind.
“You want me to cum?” he whined to your picture. “Wanna see how hard you make me cum, baby?”
He moved his hand faster, fucking his fist. The wet noise of his hand on his cock filled the room, along with Eddie’s keening moans and shaky breaths. He was so so close, just a little longer-
His favorite image of you flashed in his mind. You, in your cheer uniform, no panties, legs spread wide on his bed. Perfect pussy on display all for him. And Eddie, worshipping your body the way you deserved.
With one last whimper of your name, Eddie flicked his wrist one, two, three more times before he let out a choked moan, his cum splattering all over his fist and stomach. He worked himself through it, cumming more than he had last time he did this - he had edged himself for so long this time and it paid off - stroking his cock until his body jolted with the aftershocks and he couldn’t take it anymore.
He laid there, chest heaving as he attempted to calm his racing heart. He finally removed his hand from his softening cock, reaching for an old t-shirt on the floor to clean himself up. He wiped the cum off his hand and the rest of his body. Fuck, there was…a lot.
He imagined fucking it all inside of you instead, seeing it leaking out when he pulled out of you.
His cock gave a weak twitch.
He tucked himself back away in his boxers and pajama pants. The yearbook still lay open on the bed next to him. He glanced over, seeing your smiling face staring back at him. He closed the book.
Then, like clockwork, the post-nut clarity kicked in and the shame crept through his veins. He covered his face with his hands, wondering what the fuck was wrong with him.
Not only was he a total fucking creep - god, the way you, Carol, and Tina would laugh at him if you knew. And not only did you exist in a whole different world - you were astronomically popular - you were also completely unattainable.
And Jason’s twin sister.
Jason Carver, who hated Eddie and tormented him every chance he got. The blonde basketball team captain, King of Hawkins - well, next to Steve, at least. He’d always been popular, but ask anyone - the King title was always Steve’s first.
Not that Eddie gave a fuck about any of that high school hierarchy bullshit anyway.
This was a routine for Eddie. Watch you at school all day, get to interact with you if he’s lucky. Come home, daydream about you, get so hard he can’t stand it. Pull out your picture and jerk off while thinking about you, cum so hard he can’t think - then the guilt, the remorse.
And, fuck, he’d have to face you tomorrow. You, Carol, and Tina always bought from him every other Friday. He’d have to look you in the eyes, knowing what he just did.
Well, it wasn’t the first time.
Eddie had been obsessed with you since the beginning of time. He had been the grade above you until this year, but of course he knew you - everyone knew you. You were easily the single most popular girl at Hawkins and always had been.
You weren’t so bad. A little stuck up, maybe. Not like Jason, not a bully. You smiled and laughed when he flirted with you or bowed to you in the cafeteria. But you definitely thought he was a freak just like everyone else, and Eddie knew there was no reality where he had a chance with you.
So he did this.
Eddie got up from the bed, tossing the yearbook into the drawer, to be forgotten - or just pretend it doesn’t exist - until next time. Fuck. God, he really was a creep, wasn’t he?
“Don’t look at me like that,” he muttered to his guitar, his sweetheart, hanging on the wall - he always felt like the beloved instrument was a sentient thing, now silently judging him.
He walked out of the room and down the hall to the bathroom, feeling like he needed a shower to wash away the dirty feeling clinging to his skin. He turned the water on, finding the perfect temperature before shedding his clothes and stepping in.
The water did help, soothing not only his body but his mind. That is, until the image of you in there with him flashed into his brain, wet, gripping his cock before bending over for him-
Fuck.
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“Oh, fuck, Steve!”
“Yeah,” Steve panted in your ear, fucking you hard and fast from behind. You were pressed against the wall of the locker room, cheer top rucked up to expose your tits, hard nipples pressed against the cold wall. Steve was pressed against your back, fucking into you frantically. “Fuck, take it. God, you’re such a fucking slut.”
You whimpered - you always liked when Steve degraded you a little. He wrapped his large hand around your neck, pulling your back flush against him as the room was filled with the sound of his hips slamming into yours, his balls slapping against your ass. He squeezed, cutting off your airflow. Your eyes rolled back.
“Can’t believe you let me do this,” he grunted into your ear, a smirk on his lips. He squeezed your neck harder. Fuck, he was gonna leave bruises again. You’d have to explain that to Jason and your parents.
His other hand left your hip and wound around your body, pressing two fingers against your clit, making your knees go weak. Steve was holding you up as he fucked you and started rubbing circles on your throbbing clit.
“Make a fucking mess on my cock, baby,” he whispered in your ear. “Let me feel how hard you can cum for me. Fuck, I can feel you clenching around me- shit, I’m not gonna last much longer-“
You were getting dizzy from the lack of oxygen. But then your orgasm hit, your vision going white as you came around him, his cock hitting that bundle of nerves and prolonging it until you were so far gone you had no idea what was happening anymore.
Steve let go of your neck and you fell forward, landing on your hands against the wall. He grabbed 
onto your hips, slamming you back on his cock as he teetered right on the edge. Finally, he drew in a gasp, groaning loud as he snapped his cock in one more time and came inside you, thrusting shallowly.
He rode out his high deep in your pussy, groaning like he didn’t give a fuck if anyone heard. He kept a bruising grip on your hips until he was completely done - then he let you go, letting you fall forward against the locker room wall.
You spun around, shoving him hard in the chest. “Motherfucker, you weren’t supposed to finish inside!”
“Relax, I’ve got Plan B money.” He slapped your ass, grinning like an asshole. “Besides, you know I always cum inside you.”
You rolled your eyes, fixing your uniform and hair. You looked in the mirror, seeing your lipstick smudged - you looked back at Steve, seeing the traces of it on his neck and shirt. You weren’t gonna tell him.
You pulled your lipstick tube out of your bag and fixed your makeup while Steve pulled his jeans up and tucked his dick away. He looked at you again. “You coming to my party tonight?”
“Um, yeah,” you said - as if you ever missed a party. “We’re picking up the weed after school, don’t worry about it.”
“Cool,” he smirked. His eyes dropped down to your ass again before going back to your face. “You’re gonna make Munson cream his pants. You know how he feels about the uniform.”
You rolled your eyes, even though you knew Steve was right. There was a reason they sent you to pick up from Eddie every time.
“I feel bad,” you said. You put the top back on your lipstick, smacking your lips together. “He’s a nice guy.”
“Munson?” Steve snorted. “Dude’s a-“
“A freak, yeah I know.”
“Well, don’t feel bad for him,” Steve said. He fixed his hair in the mirror, somehow without noticing the kiss prints and hickies on his neck. “We get a discount, he gets to talk to you and look up your skirt a little. It’s a win-win situation.”
You frowned. You weren’t so sure you felt good about it, but you didn’t push it. You knew the friend group relied on you for this - it’s not like any of you were hurting for money, but still.
“You’re just using what you were blessed with, baby,” he winked. “It’s not like you have to fuck him.”
The idea of that was so outlandish it nearly made you laugh. “Yeah. No.”
“Just make sure you lay it on thick. Let him think he’s got a shot,” Steve snorted. His hand slid up your skirt, grabbing your ass tightly in his hand. “Everyone knows all this belongs to me, anyway.”
“Steve, we are not together,” you reminded him.
“So?” He kissed your neck, a light hand shaped bruise starting to bloom there. “Still mine.”
It wasn’t, but you let him believe what he wanted. Steve finally stepped away from you, picking up his backpack from the floor against the wall. “I’m gonna sneak out before anyone notices we were in here together. I’ll see you.”
“See ya.”
You continued fussing with your hair for a few minutes after you heard the locker room door slam shut, giving Steve the chance to get far. When you felt like the coast was clear, you grabbed your own bag and slipped out.
“What were you doing in the men’s locker room?”
You froze, resisting the urge to let out a deep sigh. You turned around to see your twin brother looking at you, duffel bag over his shoulder as he was about to enter the room you’d just left.
“Nothing,” you said. “Steve forgot something and asked me to run and get it.”
Jason didn’t believe you for a second. “Do you always have to be such a slut?” he hissed, so quiet for only you to hear, even though the hallway was deserted.
You rolled your eyes. “I wasn’t doing anything.”
“You think I believe that?” he scoffed. “I know you. You know Steve talks, right? Do you know how fucking embarrassing that is? That everyone knows how my sister puts out?”
You reeled back, jaw dropping. “Jason Michael Carver.”
“Oh, do not full name me-“
“You just called me a slut!” You threw your arms up in the air. “You’re such a saint. I’m sure you and Chrissy have never done anything.”
“If we do, it’s in private,” he spat. “Because Chrissy has respect for herself, unlike you.”
“Whatever.” You pushed past Jason’s shoulder, flipping him off over your shoulder as you walked to class. “Asshole.”
You had English next - with Eddie. You walked into the classroom, the metalhead looking up at you through his frizzy bangs from his seat in the back. He nodded at you and you gave him a (slightly flirtatious) smile before sliding into your seat next to Carol.
“Where were you?” Carol whispered, chewing her bubblegum.
Your cheeks heated. “With Steve.”
She rolled her eyes. “I could have guessed that.” She leaned over the aisle, getting closer to you. “Where?”
You almost didn’t want to tell her. “Men’s locker room.”
Her eyes went wide before she gave you a look. “Girl.”
You shrugged, heat rushing to your cheeks even more. “No one saw us.” As the memory came back to you, you winced. “Well, Jason kind of caught me coming out and put it together.”
Carol stifled her giggle with her hand. “Oh my god. I bet he was pissed.”
You nodded, widening your eyes. “So pissed.” You pulled your notebook out, flipping to a clean page. “Good thing I don’t give a fuck if Jason’s mad.”
“He’s gonna kick Steve’s ass one of these days,” Carol said, turning back to her own book. “If I don’t do it first.”
Your friends weren’t Steve’s biggest fans either. They thought Steve treated you like shit, which, they weren’t really wrong. It was worse when you and Steve actually were together. He hadn’t been a good boyfriend at all. Now, they were just disappointed you kept sleeping with him.
“He just doesn’t want to be embarrassed,” you mumbled. “He doesn’t actually care about me.”
“I think that’s enough to get Steve’s ass beat.”
While you talked to Carol, Eddie stared holes into the back of your head. Well, not just your head, definitely not. How could he not also appreciate your tits? Or your long, smooth legs in your cheer skirt? God, he loved that skirt. He loved game days, and it didn’t have a thing to do with throwing balls into laundry baskets.
Eddie could never pay attention in his classes with you. He was going to end up failing senior year yet again at this rate. It was worth it, he thought, to get to look at you.
At the end of class, he pretended to be busy putting his stuff away until you and Carol stood. Like every day, he timed it just right, so he was leaving the classroom right behind you. Fuck, how did the school let the cheer uniforms have such tiny skirts? He could almost see the edge of your panties when you walked. None of the other girls on the team wore the skirt like you did, though - no one looked as good in it as you.
Eddie hardly even noticed other girls. He didn’t care about anyone else. It was only you, had always only ever been you. Which was stupid, because he might as well have been dreaming about fucking Phoebe Cates or Shauna Grant. God, you were hotter than Phoebe Cates and Shauna Grant.
He hardly even attempted to hide his staring anymore. He followed as far as he could, dreaming of getting a piece of you-
“Earth to Eddie,” Gareth said, shoving Eddie hard in the shoulder. “God, snap out of it, man.”
Eddie jumped, looking at Gareth - he quickly snapped his head back in your direction, but he’d already lost you in the crowd. Great. He turned back to Gareth with a scowl on his face.
“What, man?” he snapped.
“Oh, come on. You can’t seriously be mad I interrupted you staring at Miss Queen of Hawkins’ ass.”
“You know what?” Eddie said, stopping at his locker. “Yeah, I am. I was enjoying the view.”
“Yeah. I know.” Gareth rolled his eyes. “You’d think one day you’d stop chasing that pipe dream.”
“I’m not chasing a dream,” Eddie grumbled. “You think I don’t know perfectly well I have no chance with her? I’m not delusional.”
“Sometimes I wonder.” Gareth leaned against the lockers, watching Eddie shove his books in his own disaster of a locker. “Why don’t you try to be interested in someone else? That girl at The Hideout last week was flirting with you, I swear-“
“I just wasn’t interested,” Eddie shrugged. “She wasn’t my type.”
“Yeah, because your type is the fairer Carver twin.” Gareth looked at Eddie, like he had him all figured out. It pissed Eddie off. “You’re going to be a virgin forever at this rate.”
“You’re a virgin, too!” Eddie hissed, trying to not alert the entire Hawkins student body to the embarrassing truth about both of them. “So don’t act like you’ve got shit figured out, or even know the first thing about women.”
“You’re being testy because I interrupted your ass-staring time. Got it, won’t do it again.” Gareth pushed off the lockers. “You cool off, and I’ll see you in the cafeteria.”
Eddie grabbed his metal lunchbox and slammed his locker shut. He pushed his wild curls out of his face as he walked to the cafeteria. Sure enough, you were already in there, sitting at the middle table with your friend group, Hawkins royalty.
He tried his best not to stare while he walked to the Hellfire table. He was the last one there - Mike and Dustin worked on their character sheets, while Gareth, Jeff, and Grant were laughing loudly about something. Eddie took his seat at the head of the table. He flipped his lunchbox open, taking out the sandwich sitting amongst the weed, rolling paper, and cigarettes.
“About time you made it in here,” Jeff said, watching Eddie take a bite of his ham sandwich. Eddie looked irritated, chewing his food and avoiding eye contact with anyone.
“He was too busy staring at you-know-who,” Gareth snorted.
“Big surprise,” Grant muttered.
“Who?” Dustin asked. “Who are you talking about?”
Gareth happily got the first syllable of your name out before Eddie cut him off. “Dude, shut the fuck up.”
But he had said enough for the boys to put the pieces together. “Carver?” Mike asked. “Jason’s sister?”
“Oh, dude,” Dustin said.
“Thanks, Gare,” Eddie sighed, rubbing his hands over his face.
“Oh yeah,” Gareth said, ignoring Eddie. “He’s been obsessed with her for as long as I can remember. You should see when they have class together. Oh, and today’s his favorite day, because every other Friday she-“
“Gareth, shut up!” Eddie snapped. “Fuck, come on, man.”
“Well, that’s just a waste of time,” Dustin said, as if he were surprised his DM would be obsessed with you. You weren’t exactly what he’d imagine to be Eddie’s type - although, you were kind of everybody’s type.
“Oh, he knows,” Gareth said. “He’s just that whipped. Totally wrapped around her perfectly manicured finger. And she barely even knows who he is.”
“She knows who I am,” Eddie grumbled.
“Only because you sell her and her friends drugs,” Jeff commented.
Eddie didn’t say anything. He wasn’t so sure Jeff was wrong, although he didn’t want to admit it to himself. He knew he didn’t have a chance in hell with you, sure, but you were friendly at least, right?
He was grateful when the conversation eventually moved back to DND. They had a big campaign tonight, but his head just wasn’t in it - he’d be seeing you first and that was all he could think about.
He watched you from across the cafeteria - the way you’d cover your mouth when you laughed at something one of your idiot friends said, the beautiful smile that stayed on your face all the time - the way that asshole Harrington put his arm around you. He was pretty sure you weren’t even together anymore - yes, he kept up with things like that.
Only when it came to you, though.
He tried to avert his eyes. He looked down at the sandwich he was nibbling on, trying to focus on the DND conversation happening around him.
And he counted down the hours until 3:30.
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Eddie sat at the picnic table in the clearing of the woods behind the school. His head rested on his hand, the fingers of his other hand tapping against the metal of his lunchbox. He was early - maybe a little too eager.
The sound of giggles from amongst the trees made him snap his head up, watching. His heart beat faster, pounding against the wall of his chest. His stomach was in knots.
The sound of footsteps on the leaves. More giggling, a conversation too low for Eddie to properly hear it. Then, finally - you, Carol, and Tina walked out of the tree line, not even looking in his direction yet. He sat up straighter, adjusted his curls, then decided to stand. He was nervous - he always got flustered.
“Well well, good afternoon, ladies,” Eddie greeted, putting on his usual confident smile and sauntering around the table. “What can I do you for today?”
The three of you looked at him. Carol and Tina scrunched their noses up, looking at him like he was less than human, but he didn’t even notice. He was too busy looking at the way your lips spread into a smile, the way the sun caught your eyes and made them sparkle.
“Hey, Eddie,” you said, and his stomach did flips at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue. “Just the usual.”
He bowed his head. “You got it. Anything for the prettiest girl in Hawkins.” He flipped open his lunchbox with a flourish, pulling out the ounce of weed he’d already weighed and bagged in preparation of this meeting.
You giggled, hand fiddling with your gold cross necklace. Eddie’s eyes dropped down with the motion, letting them linger on your tits. You didn’t miss it.
“How’s the band?” you asked, crossing one foot in front of the other.
“Oh, you know, making it big,” Eddie said, dangling the baggie from his hand. “All five of our fans are loving our new stuff.”
You laughed again, walking around to the table. Carol and Tina lingered off to the side while you hopped up - tits bouncing in your top - onto the picnic table, sitting on the edge, legs swinging. Eddie swallowed hard.
“Maybe I’ll have to come see you sometime,” you said. You subtly - intentionally - let your legs fall open a little, allowing Eddie the slightest glimpse of your panties. You had worn your cutest pink set just for him.
Eddie’s heart banged even harder against his chest, first at your words and then as his eyes dropped down. Fuck. He forgot to respond at first, brain short circuiting at the sight - oblivious to Carol and Tina laughing behind him.
“Oh, uh, yeah, definitely,” he said once he’d remembered it was his turn to speak. “I, uh…yeah. At The Hideout, Tuesday nights. You should definitely come.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” You tilted your head with a smile - crossing your legs. Show over. Just a tease. “How much do we owe you?”
“20 for the ounce?” he offered, finally meeting your eyes again. “That’s 50% off. You’re robbing me blind, sweetheart.”
“Aw, Eddie,” you cooed, hopping off the table. “You’re so sweet. What would we do without you?”
Eddie was blushing hard, feeling more flustered than he usually did - you usually weren’t this flirty. “I, uh- I don’t- I mean yeah, of course, it’s no problem. Not for you, princess.”
You handed out the 20 dollar bill while Eddie offered up the baggie of weed. Your fingers brushed together - yours were so soft, so smooth, and you smelled like strawberries - and he felt electricity all the way up his arm. He almost jolted away from you, but kept his composure somehow.
“Thank you, Eddie,” you purred, and the sound of you saying his name again had his cock throbbing in his pants. “I appreciate it.”
“Of course,” he said, lost in your eyes. You were standing so close he couldn’t think straight. “Any time. Seriously, just, uh…say the word.”
“I will.” Fuck, were you flirting? You handed the weed off to Carol, who stuffed it in her purse. “You should come to a game sometime.”
Eddie couldn’t even think straight. It took him an embarrassingly long time to respond. “Oh, yeah, definitely. I-I love basketball. I love…” he mimed cheerleading, or at least the most basic pom-pom waving kind. “What you do is cool.”
You giggled again. “Cool. I’ll see you there one of these days, right?”
“Oh, yeah, for sure,” Eddie nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah. Of course.” He stuffed the 20 in his pocket, wondering if he should cancel Hellfire tonight to watch you cheer. He thought Gareth, Jeff, and Grant might actually kill him.
“Good. I’ve got to get ready for the game, but…” You stepped closer to him, like right up against him. He gulped. “Thank you, Eddie. You’re always so sweet.”
You stood on your toes in your perfect white sneakers and kissed him on the cheek.
Eddie was frozen. He didn’t know what to do. He was helpless as he watched the three of you leave, linking arms and giggling to each other. Eddie felt like he’d just run a few miles - his heart was racing, breathing ragged. He collapsed onto the bench of the picnic table.
And tried to think of how to get out of Hellfire tonight.
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You pulled your hair up into a high pony, tightening the green and yellow bow. You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time - then reached for your makeup bag, applying more concealer over the bruise attempting to show through your foundation.
“Oh my god, is that a handprint?” Chrissy asked, completely scandalized, her eyes wide. “Who did that to you?”
You glanced over at her briefly - Chrissy was a sweet girl, but she was also very naive. “No, it’s nothing. Just, uh…wore my seatbelt too tight.”
The excuse didn’t even make any sense, but Chrissy just looked at you strangely before dropping the subject. You wanted to tell her to relax, tell her that Steve just likes it rough, but you didn’t think that would make her feel much better.
You finished up with your makeup, then stuffed your bag into your locker along with your change of clothes. With one last adjustment of your uniform, you left the locker room with your team, ready to cheer your heart out.
On the other side of the school, Eddie took his throne for Hellfire. The guys sat around the table, already set up for the campaign. The room was filled with excited chatter - the guys were itching to see what Eddie had in store for them, and Eddie was ready to put his friends’ characters through it.
As the game went on, though, Eddie found himself distracted. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, how you were here in the school with him, doing your little flips and jumps and routines. He could be watching that right now, seeing beneath your skirt every time you did a toe touch.
He even stumbled over his words a few times, dropping character when he thought too hard about that thing you do where you lift your leg high in the air. The guys definitely noticed he was off his game, and he was sure they knew why.
When Hellfire ended, the game was still going on, just nearing the end. While all his friends left the school together, Eddie lingered behind with the excuse of cleaning up the drama room.
It only took him a few minutes to put all his DND stuff away. When he was done, backpack over his shoulder, he left the room - and followed the sound of cheering, as if succumbing to the call of a siren.
He opened the gym door just a little, peeking inside. Hawkins was in the lead, by a lot. He didn’t really care about that. What he cared about was the cheerleading captain, currently being tossed high in the air by your teammates. Your skirt flew up as you flipped in the air, giving him the perfect view of your even more perfect ass, before you landed perfectly in the arms of the other girls.
He loved watching you cheer. There was something so hot about it - he wanted to choose to believe it wasn’t just the skirt or your ass. He was impressed by the skill, the athleticism, impressed with you. He willed you to see him, give him a smile and a cute little wave, but of course you had no idea he was there. When you did another jump, he looked down between your legs - seeing the black panties you wore underneath. His cock started to fill out, and-
Wait.
You had been wearing pink panties before. He remembered because he’d committed it to memory. That means you changed, which means - your clothes were in the locker room.
The idea struck Eddie hard, like a ball of lightning. Then, the shame at even thinking it. But…
He let the gym door fall closed as he turned around and began speed walking down the hallway. His heart was racing - was he really about to do this? This was crossing a line he hadn’t crossed before. He felt a little disgusted at himself, but…also excited. This was thrilling.
He rounded the corner and came face to face with the door to the women’s locker room. He looked around - the hallway was completely deserted. No one would be coming around until the game was over. He had a few minutes.
He pushed the door open and slid inside.
The women’s locker room was much different than the men’s. For one thing, it didn’t smell like sweat and gym socks. The smell was intoxicating, a mix of fruity and floral scents. He could even make out your signature perfume in the sensory overload - and it made his cock twitch.
It wasn’t hard to find your locker. Everyone’s locker had their initials on it for one, but yours was also covered with photos. You with Carol and Tina, you with Heather Holloway, you with the cheer team - you and Steve. The latter made his stomach clench.
He opened the locker, pleased to find it unlocked. Inside, you had all kinds of stuff - clothes, shower stuff, body care, lotions and perfumes and a hairbrush. He looked at it all, feeling a familiar kind of longing. He picked up the shampoo and conditioner bottles, then the lotions, giving them all a smell and committing them to memory. One of the lotions had seen much more use than the others - he smelled that one, and groaned. That was your signature scent.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he shoved the lotion bottle in his backpack.
He looked through your locker some more. There were an absurd amount of notes, folded in perfect little squares and kept in a pencil box. Just notes passed back and forth with your friends, some with Steve - Meet me in the locker room. Come over tonight, my parents aren’t home. Quickie before practice? Eddie resisted the urge to throw those away.
A pink duffel bag sat on the bottom shelf. Eddie took it, unzipping it - score.
Your clothes were inside - with those pretty pink panties right on top. Slowly, tentatively, as if he might talk some sense into himself, he reached for the panties. They were soft, baby pink with a bow in the front and lace around the hem. He held them like he couldn’t believe they were real.
Then he brought them to his nose, inhaling deeply.
Fuck. Eddie couldn’t help it - he moaned, loud. He was painfully hard in his jeans now, and he dropped his free hand, palming himself over the denim.
Somewhere, a door slammed.
He snapped out of it. Panic struck into his chest at the sound, remembering where he was and what he was doing. He quickly shoved the panties into his pocket, closing your bag and putting everything back in the locker.
He walked to the door in quick strides of his long legs. Peeking out the door to make sure no one was around first, he slipped out of the locker room and started nearly running to the exit of the school, headed for his van.
He couldn’t wait to get home.
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You rolled up to Steve’s house with Jason and Chrissy. You felt like the third wheel, sitting in the backseat - but it made more sense than having Carol come pick you up when your brother was going anyway.
You had changed out of your uniform after the game, searching your closet for a good 30 minutes before coming up with a large brown sweater and a tiny little black skirt. 
Inside the house, the music was pumping so loud the walls were shaking. The large downstairs was packed full of people, talking, drinking, dancing. You left Jason and Chrissy immediately, pushing through to head straight for the kitchen.
You grinned at your best friends, who practically squealed when they saw you even though you’d only been apart for about an hour. Carol, Tina, and Heather pulled you into their orbit - one of them. They scooped you a cup full of spiked punch. You sipped it - fuck, Steve always made his punch way too fucking strong.
“Yeah, it’s a lot,” Heather laughed as you made a face, the alcohol burning on the way down.
“Steve’s looking for you, by the way,” Tina said, giving you a smirk. “Said when I see you to tell you to meet him out back.”
You rolled your eyes. Of course he was. But for some reason, you could never resist Steve. It’s not even that you loved him, or had particularly strong feelings for him…he just always got what he wanted.
“I think I need to be a little more drunk first.” You downed your first drink - to the shocked expressions of your friends - and immediately poured yourself another.
“Be careful,” Carol whispered against your ear, leaning close to you so you could hear her over the music. “Don’t get so drunk you let him take advantage of you again.”
Your heart clenched - you knew Carol cared about you. Sometimes you forgot just how Steve treated you, and that others noticed. Even Jason had told you to stop dating Steve - that he was no good for you. But you always had to do the opposite of whatever Jason said - it was like a personal challenge.
You put it off for a while, laughing with your friends as you finished a couple cups of punch. You knew Steve would be mad if you just ignored him, so you finished off your third drink, refilled your cup, then said goodbye to your friends and headed for the backyard.
It wasn’t hard to find Steve. He was always surrounded by a group of adoring people, hanging on to every word he said. Tonight was no different. King Steve held court off to the side of the pool, flashing that charming smile to the girls giggling at every word he said. You rolled your eyes.
As you stomped over, you caught the attention of the group. They parted for you as if out of a deep respect, the guys looking at you wide eyed while the girls gave you dirty looks with whispers of I thought they broke up?. Steve, oblivious - or apathetic - to it all, curled his lips into a pleased grin.
“About time,” he said, holding an arm out for you. You took your place under it. “I was beginning to think you’d stood me up.”
“Never,” you said - an honest answer. You noticed he still had obvious hickies in his neck, but he’d cleaned off the lipstick stains in the shower after the game.
Steve squeezed your shoulder. He leaned over and brushed his lips against your ear. “Wanna go upstairs with me, baby?”
Your skin tingled, like static electricity in your bloodstream. You were a little unsteady on your feet, letting Steve hold you up. “Okay.”
Steve led you upstairs, letting you lean on him as he helped you. You could tell he was a little drunk, too - but you had so much to drink so fast, you were in slightly worse shape.
He opened the door to his bedroom and you let yourself into the familiar space, flopping down on his bed. You were exhausted from the day - school, cheering, now this. You were ready to curl up and go to sleep.
Steve crawled onto the bed next to you. He hand rested on your hip as he leaned down and kissed you, slowly at first, then hungrier. He parted your lips, licking into your mouth. His hips were rutting against you, hard cock rubbing against your bare thigh.
“God, I want you,” he breathed, moving on top of you. He pressed his hips against your core, aching dick throbbing as he let out a shuddering, needy breath.
“Want you too, Stevie,” you mumbled. His familiar body on top of you had you coming alive, soaking your panties.
He sat up and pulled his shirt off quickly, then yours. He urgently worked his belt open, chest heaving as he looked down at you. You traced your hand through his chest hair, feeling the firm muscles of his chest and abdomen. They twitched beneath your touch.
With his jeans and boxers shoved down to his thighs, his hard cock bobbing at his lower stomach, he reached beneath your skirt to pull your panties off.
“Fuck,” he muttered as he leaned forward, mouthing at your tits. “Shit, you’re so hot. So fucking hot, baby.” He rocked his hips forward, cock tracing through your folds. He groaned at the feeling of your wetness, the way it coated his shaft as he thrusted back and forth.
He hooked his arms under your thighs, pushing them up against your chest. He nudged his thick cockhead against your entrance, pushing just barely inside. You whined at the stretch - although you were used to taking Steve’s dick by now.
He fucked his cock in further, adding another inch with every thrust. You arched your back, crying out at the pressure of him stretching you. Steve was actually huge - he’d had plenty of experiences with girls where he couldn’t even get it in - so it could be uncomfortable, but god, once you got used to it? It was incredible.
“Almost in, baby,” he mumbled soothing words against your cheek. “Almost in you, just a little bit more. You can take it, you always do.”
He was right - you always did.
You let out a shuddering breath as Steve pushed the remaining few inches into you with a groan. His fists tightened in the sheets, then he was pulling back and pounding into you.
You whined, pulling on Steve’s hair while he fucked into you. He wrapped his arms around your body, hugging you close to him and hiding his face in your neck while he bucked his hips.
“So, so good, baby,” he praised, voice muffled against your skin. “Making me feel so good, taking this dick like that. God you’re such a slut, you always take it-“
He cut himself off with a loud moan as you tightened around him, shutting him up. As annoying as he could be, his - glorious - cock was fucking you just right, pressing against your bundle of nerves with every balls-deep thrust.
You could feel the coil tightening, your spine prickling with electricity. Oh fuck, you suddenly remembered why you kept sleeping with Steve.
You were so close, so close-
“Fuck- shit, I’m cumming,” Steve cried, and before you could beg him no, no, just a little longer, he was grabbing onto your thigh, squeezing as he grunted with his release, cum coating your velvety walls.
You had to say, you were disappointed but not surprised. Steve only cared if you came about half the time, and it looked like tonight was not one of those lucky nights.
“Are you serious?” you said, pushing his sweaty body off of you. He rolled onto the mattress next to you, running his hands through his slightly wet hair.
“I’m sorry, baby. You just felt so good.” Steve winked and smirked at you, looking like he wasn’t all that sorry at all.
You rolled your eyes, sitting up and reaching for your clothes. You pulled your panties and shirt back on, tossing Steve his shirt. He was pulling his jeans and boxers back up, but seemed in no hurry to replace his shirt and get back to the party.
“You’re a dick,” you mumbled. You felt angry - you felt used. Steve always made you feel used.
“Don’t be like that, baby,” he cooed, but he was still smiling like he found the whole situation funny. “You know how I feel about you. You know you’re my favorite girl.”
You weren’t having it. “Where’s the Plan B money?”
Steve frowned. “My wallet’s on the desk.”
You walked over to the desk sitting against the wall, seeing Steve’s expensive leather wallet laying on top. You flipped it open and plucked out the bills to cover the emergency contraceptive.
“Baby, seriously. Don’t be like this.” Steve was giving minimal effort, but he beckoned you back to the bed, as if you would listen to whatever he asked.
You threw open his bedroom door. A few people in the hallway turned to look, seeing you leaving, disheveled with a shirtless Steve on the bed - and immediately started whispering. You didn’t care right now.
You slammed Steve’s door behind you, pushing past the party goers and going back downstairs. Maybe Jason would take you home, or even Carol. Someone would, and you were going to ask everyone until you got a ride.
All you knew is you couldn’t stand to be at this party for another second.
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Eddie had rushed home, speeding even faster than he usually did. His heart wouldn’t stop pounding - he felt like he had a big, incredible secret. The panties sitting in his pocket might as well have weighed 50 pounds. He couldn’t stop thinking about them and what he’d done.
He was relieved to see Wayne gone when he got home. He didn’t want to be interrupted.
He locked up behind himself before heading straight for his room - fuck eating, he couldn’t wait another second. He was already half hard as he pulled his shirt off, then reached for the joint he’d rolled earlier.
Sparking up the joint, he placed the roll between his lips, taking a deep inhale. The smoke traveled down into his lungs, filling his body with a deep contentment.
He laid on the bed with his joint still propped in his mouth. He undid his belt and shoved his jeans and boxers down in record time - he was already so worked up, and the weed was only going to make his orgasm even better.
Eddie pulled out the lotion and your panties - and he paused. Was he really going to do this? This was a level of creep he hadn’t reached yet. He could go back - he could sneak your stuff back in your locker Monday - hell, he could even throw them away and pretend this never happened.
His cock was throbbing, already fully hard as he held the soft panties in his hand. He clenched and unclenched his fist around them, fighting with himself - could he forgive himself for this?
He brought the panties up to his nose and inhaled. His cock twitched, and he couldn’t help it - he wrapped his hand around himself, twisting his hand around his shaft as he breathed in the smell of you.
And fuck, you smelled just as good as he imagined. Better, even. He imagined his face was buried in your pussy, the real thing - fuck, he would do anything. He wouldn’t be satisfied until he made you cum harder than you ever had. It’s only what you deserved.
Eddie rubbed the panties against his aching cock, jolting from the sensation of the rough lace against his sensitive dick. He let out a little huff of smoke - his heart was beating out of his chest - and wrapped the panties around his shaft. Slowly, he stroked his cock with them, breathing shakily.
The joint slipped from his lips and fell on the bed. “Shit,” he cursed, picking it up and dropping it in his ashtray. He was already plenty high, and all he wanted now was to get off to the thought of you. 
He reached into his bedside table and pulled out the yearbook. It was a surprise the pages weren’t stuck together at this rate. He flipped straight to the dog eared page, letting out a groan at the sight of you.
“You’re so beautiful, baby,” he whispered to your picture as he stroked himself faster. “Fuck. Did you wear these just for me today? Did you know how fucking crazy it would drive me?”
When the material of the panties started to get uncomfortable rubbing against his cock - too sensitive - he put the book down and grabbed your bottle of lotion. He closed his eyes as he opened the top and smelled it again - he could almost picture you were right here.
He put some in the palm of his right hand. Then, he wrapped his hand around his cock, moaning as the cool lotion coated his shaft. He could smell the scent so clearly - it made it even easier to think about you.
He picked the yearbook back up with his left hand, jerking himself faster - his hand was moving quickly with the help of the lotion. He let out a shuddering moan - fuck, it felt so good. His dick was rock hard in his hand, almost painfully so. He just got so worked up at school all day having to see you, especially when he got to talk to you, too. He always came home aching.
“Yeah, baby,” he rasped to your picture. The slick sound of his hand on his cock was filling the room - he could almost imagine it was the sound of your wet pussy, taking him deep and fast. “D’you like when I’m this hard for you? You wanna feel me deep inside your little cunt?”
Eddie’s body was shaking with the intensity of his building orgasm. He looked at your ass and legs in the photo and pictured you in your uniform with no panties underneath, bouncing on his cock.
Or maybe he’d bend you in half, let you show him just how flexible you are. He’d spread your legs wide, watching his cock disappearing into that tight cunt. His hips bucked up into his fist.
“Christ, baby,” Eddie groaned. “You’d be so good, I know you would. You’d let me worship you, let me taste your pussy, get my cock inside you - oh fuck - is that what you want, baby? God, you get me so fucking worked up-“
He was squeezing his cock with every upstroke, rubbing his thumb over the slit, tracing the vein on the underside of his shaft. It was your hand he pictured on him - smaller, softer than his own. So fucking soft, so you-
Eddie whimpered your name as if on instinct. He called out for you, throwing his head back with little “Ah ah ah”s as he brought himself higher and higher. He could feel that familiar feeling creeping up his spine, making his muscles clench. He cupped his balls in his hand, massaging them for a moment before going back to his needy cock.
He repeated your name over and over. “That’s it, that’s it. Good girl, so good for me. So fucking beautiful. Take this big cock, sweetheart, let me fuck that pretty pussy - fuck fuck fuck-“
His hand was moving rapidly up and down his cock now, precum leaking from the tip and mixing with your lotion. Your panties were on his chest, close enough that he could see them, bringing them to his nose to smell them. He locked eyes with your photo, imagining you were here begging for his cum, begging him to finish for you.
“You want my cum?” he whispered. “I’ll give it to you, baby. Gonna cum so hard, all for you. ‘m so close, baby, just- fuck- just a little more, almost fuckin’ there-“
His skin was tingling, body trembling, heart pounding. He twisted his hand around his cock faster, and oh god oh god-
Repeating your name like a desperate prayer, his cum shot out onto his stomach and hand, a seemingly endless amount. Fuck, he never used to cum this much before he started jerking off to you - it was like you drained everything out of him. He kept pumping his fist as he groaned, wringing out the last of his orgasm, dick pulsing in his hand as the final drops of his cum beaded at the tip, sliding down his shaft.
Eddie’s chest heaved with his breathing. He slowly removed his hand from his sticky, softening cock, looking around for something to clean up with - fuck, he might as well go get in the shower. He sighed, forcing his weary body up and off the bed. His post-nut shame was creeping in, and he needed to go wash all this away before he started really hating himself.
He threw the yearbook back in his drawer, grabbed a change of clothes, and went into the hall bathroom. He got the water started then washed his hands off in the sink, his shame disappearing down the drain. He thought briefly, again, of you, and what you’d think of him if you knew what he did.
He tried to push those thoughts away as he climbed in under the hot water. He didn’t want to think about you being upset with him - he only wanted to think of you in this shower with him, kissing your soft lips and tangling his hands in your hair. 
Eddie was trying to be innocent for once, he swears, but then his mental image of you smirked at him and dropped to her knees, and-
Eddie Munson was so fucked.
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Eddie tried to go about life normally, but it was hard knowing what he’d done - and what he’d continue to do - every night alone in his bedroom. The panties and lotion found their home in a box in his closet he only pulled out when he was desperate for you - which was often.
It was hard to look you in the eyes after that night. When he saw you again Monday morning, he had averted his gaze, stared at your ass instead. Also not entirely unusual, but he wasn’t prepared for the guilt he’d feel around you.
He watched you throughout English class. Today you were wearing jeans that hugged your body just right, a cute little striped shirt that spread tight across your tits. God, Eddie, did you always have to be such a perv? Why couldn’t he talk about how pretty your eyes were, or how you always put together the most flattering outfits? How you had the best style of any girl in school - not just boring preppy Gap bullshit, but some personality in your look?
Eddie could have gone on and on about the things he liked about you, because yes, believe it or not, it was much more than just your body that had him obsessed. Much more. You were somehow the most popular girl in Hawkins, Jason Carver’s sister, and the coolest girl he’d ever met.
He hardly even realized class had passed him by as the bell rang and everyone started to stand, gathering their things. Eddie snapped out of his daydream and grabbed his own stuff, waiting for the perfect time to leave right behind you. When you and Carol stood, he knew it was his time.
Fuck, you looked even better in those jeans than he’d realized. His mouth watered, he longed to reach out and touch you.
“I can’t believe him,” Carol said quietly to you, and Eddie strained to hear the whispered conversation.
“I can,” you shrugged. “He’s always been…selfish.”
Who were you talking about? 
“You need to stop sleeping with him,” Carol said. Eddie’s stomach clenched at the words - Steve. You were talking about Steve. “He’s no good for you. And you know he’s already told Tommy and all the guys about Friday night?”
“I’m sure he left out the part where he finished in a couple minutes and didn’t return the favor.”
Eddie almost laughed. The idea of you sleeping with someone else always made him upset - but that was nothing compared to the anger he felt over Steve running his mouth about you to the whole school.
He lost the two of you quicker than he would have liked in the bustle of the lunchtime rush. He looked around for you, hoping to spot the top of your head somewhere, but ultimately gave up and headed for the cafeteria.
Jason, Patrick, Andy, and Chance walked down the hall in the other direction, talking to each other. Eddie attempted to pretend they didn’t exist, as usual, but as they passed each other Jason reached out, knocking Eddie’s books out of his hands.
“Sorry, freak,” Jason quipped, high fiving Patrick as the other guys laughed, still walking away.
Eddie took a deep breath, then he bent over and picked up his books. He would never understand how you and Jason were twins.
You and Carol were standing in the lunch line together when Eddie got into the cafeteria, still talking. He thought about joining the line with you - buy himself a cookie or something - but the guys were already watching him from their table. He looked at you one last time, reluctantly tearing his eyes away as he made his way to his usual seat.
“What, not gonna follow Carver into the lunch line to stare at her ass some more?” Gareth teased, and Eddie hated how obvious he must have been.
“Shut the fuck up,” Eddie muttered. He flipped his lunchbox open, reaching for the bag of chips he’d packed. His fingers itched for a cigarette instead.
“I just can’t believe it’s Carver that Eddie’s obsessed with,” Dustin said. “Like…that’s not what I imagined your type to be whatsoever.”
Eddie shrugged. He wanted to list out all the reasons why he liked you so much, why he needed you so badly, but he knew that wouldn’t make things any better.
“Yeah, it makes no sense,” Gareth said, poking at his mac and cheese. “Like, yeah she’s hot as hell, but she’s also a Carver. Ms. Stuck up Queen of Hawkins.”
“Come on Gareth, be nice,” Jeff scolded. Then, a raised eyebrow - “but really Eddie? Her?”
“She’s-“ he almost started, almost outed himself as being even more head over heels in love with you than they already knew, but recognized the bait before he did. “She’s nice.”
“Sure,” Grant said.
Eddie didn’t want to talk about the subject anymore. You were his, and he didn’t want to explain himself to his friends. He knew every guy at this table had been interested in you at some point or another, and he wasn’t about to reignite any old crushes.
In fact, Eddie more or less ignored his friends for the rest of lunch. The guys were coming over to his place tonight to talk the next campaign and pass a blunt around, and Eddie felt that was plenty interaction with them in one day.
After school, Eddie made a pit stop at Rick’s to pick up his supply. Rick was happy to see him, as usual, and he found himself pulled into a 30 minute conversation on government surveillance.
By the time he made it to the trailer, Jeff’s car was already sitting out front, the three of them waiting for Eddie. They climbed out as Eddie walked up the steps to unlock the front door.
“About time,” Gareth complained. “What, did you follow Carver home to peek through her windows first?”
“Ha, ha,” Eddie said sarcastically. He pushed the front door open and walked inside, letting his friends follow behind him.
The guys followed down the hall to Eddie’s cramped bedroom. While Eddie opened his stash box to pull out the blunt he’d rolled earlier, they found a place to sit. Then-
“Eddie, are you fucking kidding?” Gareth asked.
Eddie froze. He turned around slowly - finding Gareth standing next to the bed, holding your panties. His stomach dropped to his feet.
“Uh, what are those?” Jeff asked, brows furrowed in confusion. He leaned in for a closer look - yeah, those were definitely panties.
“Are these what I think they are?” Gareth asked, his voice rising.
“Uh- no, I mean-“
“What are you talking about?” Grant asked, confused, feeling like he was out of the loop. He didn’t connect the dots, until- 
“You stole her panties?” Gareth choked out. “How did you- Eddie, what the fuck-“
Eddie snatched the panties from Gareth’s hand quickly, tossing them into the bedside drawer for now. Gareth watched - spotting the well-loved yearbook laying inside. “Dude, is that your jerk off drawer?”
Eddie’s face was bright red. “Gareth. Shut the fuck up.”
“Oh my god,” Jeff said, looking between Eddie and Gareth. “You are obsessed with her.”
“Those aren’t hers!” Eddie said quickly, frantically trying to come up with an excuse. “They’re…you know, probably got mixed up with my clothes at the laundromat, it happens sometimes-“
“So you just kept some stranger’s panties?” Gareth asked with his eyebrows raised, not believing a word out of Eddie’s mouth.
Eddie sighed. That was worse, wasn’t it? “Okay, they’re hers. But I’m not- I didn’t- look, they were there, and-“
Gareth held up his hand. “I don’t want to hear any more about your obsession with Carver. Whatever illegal creepy pervert shit you did to get those, I don’t wanna know. Let’s just smoke this blunt and talk about the campaign.”
Eddie was relieved the topic was changing, but his cheeks were still bright red, shame clinging to his skin like too-small clothes. He knew his friends thought his obsession was ridiculous. He knew it was ridiculous. But he couldn’t help himself. You were you, and you were everything.
He sparked up the blunt, took the first drag, and let his worries fade away for the night.
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Your teammates lifted you into the air. This was your favorite part of cheerleading - the rush of flying. You were lifted high with a spin, straight into a cupie. You held it for a few seconds, then grabbed your foot and lifted your leg, holding it straight up as you crossed your arm in front - a perfect bow and arrow. The girls tossed you up and into a perfectly executed basket toss, catching you and sitting you safely on the ground.
“Excellent, Carver!” Coach Mills yelled from her spot on the sidelines. “Absolutely beautiful.”
Your heart was pounding, adrenaline coursing through your veins, but you beamed with pride. Landing a stunt was the best feeling, every time.
You were completely oblivious to Eddie watching from the sidelines. He was leaning against the fence, eyes locked on you and only you. He didn’t watch practice often, but when he could…
God, you were so good. It wasn’t even the glimpses up your skirt he got when you did tricks that made it so enthralling - you were genuinely really good at what you did. Eddie had always imagined cheerleading as waving pom poms around on the sidelines of a basketball game, but your competition routines were on a whole other level.
He watched the rest of practice, his heart slamming against his chest every time your teammates threw you in the air. He had to admit it scared him a little - he didn’t know how you did it.
After practice, you walked up the bleachers, laughing and talking with your teammates. Eddie watched, the way you had your leg up on the seat, bending over to retie your shoe.
He rushed under the bleachers.
It didn’t hurt just to take a little peek, right? He crept underneath the metal stands, until he was right beneath where you and your friends stood. He looked up and saw directly up your skirt - your pretty light blue panties on full display.
He couldn’t tear his eyes away, locked in on the thin fabric covering your pretty pussy, the delicious curve of your ass. His jeans grew tighter, the zipper uncomfortable against his cock.
“I’m going to shower before everyone else uses all the hot water,” your friend - Sarah? Lauren? - said, picking up her gym bag. “You coming?”
“You can go ahead,” you said. “I like waiting until everyone’s gone. It’s peaceful.”
Your friend shrugged her shoulders. “Suit yourself.”
The words you’d just said bounced around in Eddie’s head. You like waiting until everyone’s gone. That means you’d be in the locker room, showering - alone.
He knew this was too far. He knew he was seriously crossing boundaries this time - shit, was this illegal? - but fuck, the way his cock throbbed in his jeans at the mere thought, the possibility.
He rushed back into the school. His heart was racing, pounding in his ears. He lingered around the corner in the hallway leading to the women’s locker room. It was loud inside - he could hear the cheerleaders talking and giggling as they showered and changed.
And Eddie waited.
The entire time he waited, he questioned himself. Multiple times he almost left, talking some sense into his own brain and going home. Grabbing the yearbook and the panties and lotion and rubbing one out. But the promise of seeing more…
He waited until the girls started filing out of the locker room, not paying him any mind as he leaned against the wall pretending to read his book for English he hadn’t even started yet. He gave it a little bit after the last girls left, wanting to make sure no one was still in there but being cautious not to wait so long that you showed up before he could go in.
This had to be timed perfectly.
When he felt like the coast might be clear, he crept over to the door. He opened it just a few inches, listening carefully. He didn’t hear anything at all.
“…Hello?” he called, lowering his voice an octave in an attempt to not sound like himself in case someone was still in there.
He got no response. Satisfied and with adrenaline coursing through his body, he snuck inside the locker room.
It was deserted. Eddie let out a breath in relief - so far so good. He realized he hadn’t exactly planned this far - what was he supposed to do now? He looked around for a hiding space that would let him see you, and then - jackpot. An out-of-order shower stall.
He slipped inside the shower, closing the curtain tightly. He took a few deep breaths - okay, okay. He’d come this far, he was going to follow through with it.
God? I know you never hear from me, because I don’t believe in you, but please don’t let me get caught.
He waited even more. For a while. After a while Eddie thought about just leaving - maybe you decided to shower at home? But just as he was about to give up, reaching to open the shower curtain, the locker room door slammed shut. His stomach tied in knots - you were here.
“Come on, baby.”
Eddie froze. You weren’t alone.
“I said I’m done!” you exclaimed, sounding fed up. “The party was my limit, Steve, seriously. I’m sick of you and how you only care about yourself.”
“Baby, please. Don’t be like that.”
Eddie could practically hear the smirk in Harrington’s voice. He wanted to punch the guy. He slowly, carefully, slid the curtain to the side just an inch, peeking out.
You and Steve were perfectly in his line of view, by the sinks. You were unclipping the big green bow from your high pony, Steve leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, looking at you like something to devour.
“Don’t be like what, Steve?”
“Don’t be a fucking bitch.”
Eddie’s jaw dropped. Did Steve really talk to you like that? He almost stepped out of the showers to defend your honor, but caught himself the second he began to lift his foot off the floor. He was powerless.
“I’m not being a bitch. I’m just done with you.” You sat the bow on the counter, picking up your hairbrush and beginning to comb it through your hair.
“You know you don’t mean that.” Steve pushed himself off the counter, sauntering over behind you. He put his hands on your hips like they belonged there. His front pressed against you from behind, and he lowered his head, whispering something in your ear that Eddie couldn’t make out.
You giggled. Was this douchebag’s bullshit really working on you? Eddie clenched his fist - he fucking hated that guy.
His eyes darted down to follow the movement - Steve’s hand was trailing up your skirt. His other arm was still wrapped around your waist, his chin on your shoulder. He was whispering something to you Eddie couldn’t hear at all, but the more he said the more you leaned back into him, hairbrush forgotten on the counter as Steve’s hands slid over your body.
Then - with little warning, surprising even Eddie, Steve gripped you hard by the hips with one hand and by the hair with the other, bending you over the counter roughly. Eddie’s eyes went wide - oh shit.
“You wanna be a fucking brat?” Steve asked, lifting your cheer skirt and slapping you hard on the ass. Eddie jumped as the sound rang out loudly through the room, echoing all around. But you responded to the slap with a short moan, and holy fucking shit, that was the hottest thing Eddie had ever heard in his life.
His cock throbbed, filling out in his jeans. His heart was beating so hard he could barely hear the clinking sound of Steve urgently unbuckling his belt, undoing his jeans and pushing them down just enough to free his hard cock. Eddie hated to admit it, but Steve was huge. Maybe not quite as thick as Eddie, but…
He watched, practically drooling on the floor as Steve pulled your panties down, dropping them on the floor. He tried to get a good look at you - fuck, one look at your pussy and he could die a happy man. But he couldn’t quite see with Steve’s body in the way - which only pissed Eddie off more.
Steve rubbed his hands over the round of your ass - even more perfect with your panties off and skirt pushed up - like he was admiring it. Hell, he couldn’t blame him - Eddie would do the same.
“Why don’t you show me why they call you the King, Steve,” you taunted, pushing your ass back against his hips. Eddie’s breath hitched.
Steve hissed at the contact against his cock, then chuckled, slapping your ass one more time. “Oh, baby. I’ll have you screaming my name before you know what fuckin’ hit you.”
Steve dragged his cock through your folds, and Eddie tried to get a better look. You were a little too far away to see, too far to make out details - it frustrated him. But then Steve pushed inside of you and you whined, dropping your head forward, and Eddie’s cock twitched.
He was fully hard. As Steve pulled his hips back and began fucking into you, making you whine and moan, Eddie palmed himself over his jeans. He ignored Steve, picturing himself in his place. That only made his cock ache more, precum leaking from his tip and soaking his boxers.
He had to do something. You were right there, getting fucked, and Eddie was here to watch it. 
He unbuckled his belt and slid his zipper down as slowly as possible, trying not to make a single noise. His body was buzzing with anxiety and excitement. When he got them open without alerting either of you, he reached into his boxers and started stroking himself, his rings cool against his hot skin.
Fuck. His eyes locked on where you and Steve were joined, where Steve was bucking his hips desperately, pulling you back onto his cock with every thrust. He pictured his own cock disappearing inside of your pussy, how warm and wet it would feel, how you would cry and moan for him instead.
He didn’t mean to - but Eddie moaned.
His eyes went wide, hand freezing its movements. He watched you and Steve, utterly frozen in place, his blood cold.
But neither of you noticed. Steve was grabbing your ponytail now, pulling it hard so you were forced to look into the mirror at him fucking you.
“You like that?” Steve huffed. “You like watching yourself get fucked?”
Oh god.
“Yes,” you moaned, practically crying out as Steve rutted his cock into you at a brutal pace. “I love watching you fuck me.”
Oh god, oh god.
Eddie pulled his cock out and squeezed it, precum dripping from his slit. He rubbed his thumb through it, spreading it down his shaft. He was flicking his wrist quickly, his breath coming out in little huffs. 
The pretty little noises coming from your mouth were making him ache like he never had. When he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine he was the one fucking you. He closed them for a minute, listening to your moans and gasps and whines, picturing you wrapped tight around him while he buried himself in you, making you feel so good.
“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie!” you would cry instead.
Why don’t you let me show you why they call me the freak?
He opened his eyes again in time to see Steve pull you up by your hair, pulling your back flush against his chest while his other hand gripped onto your left hip. Steve roughly pulled up your cheer top and sports bra, and - oh fuck, those were your actual tits.
Eddie whimpered, his hips bucking into his fist uncontrollably. He planted his hand on the shower wall for support, twisting his hand around his cock faster and faster.
Steve ran his hand over your tits and down your body, until he reached that pretty pussy Eddie could only get the slightest glimpse of, and started rubbing quick circles against your clit. You keened, dropping your head back against his shoulder, soft lips parted in a silent gasp.
Eddie pumped his cock more aggressively, pulsing in his hand as he felt himself getting closer. His eyes were set on your tits, bouncing with every thrust from Steve - from Eddie, he pictured in his mind.
“Steve…oh god,” you whimpered, body nearly going limp in Steve’s arms. “‘m gonna cum.”
Those words coming from your mouth made Eddie nearly choke. He catalogued them in his brain for later, ready to play on repeat when he was alone and needy. He gave his cock a few quick jerks before slowing down, squeezing with the upstroke and thumbing his head. He shuddered - he was getting close, too.
“Come on, baby, make a mess all over my cock for me. Wanna feel you cum around me,” Steve encouraged, his voice raspy. God, you were all close.
You let out whimpering moans as he brought you higher and higher, the sound hotter than anything Eddie had ever heard. The quietest moan clawed its way from his throat - he couldn’t help it. He was so close and you were right there putting on such a good show, and his cock was throbbing in his hand, balls clenching tight as he was ready to blow probably the biggest load of his life.
“Oh my god, oh my god,” you cried. “I- oh fuck, oh my god-“
Eddie knew the second you came, because you cried out loudly, gasping and shaking against Steve as your orgasm crashed through you, Steve smirking and fucking you harder as he whispered praises in your ear.
The second your body seized up with pleasure, making those hot little noises, it hit Eddie like a fucking truck. His jaw dropped open and he moaned, forgetting himself, electricity shooting up his spine. He flicked his wrist faster, cumming harder than he ever had, his spend landing against the shower curtain in endless ropes. He worked himself through it, working every last bit of cum out of his dick until there was nothing left.
He opened his eyes again just in time to see Steve with you bent over the counter again, pounding hard into you from behind - until he groaned, loud, stilling as he came inside you. Fuck, you let him cum inside?
Steve pulled out of you, and Eddie could see his cum dripping down your inner thigh. Holy fucking shit. That image was getting filed away in his brain, too.
“Knew you’d come back,” Steve laughed cockily, tucking himself away and redoing his jeans. He had that stupid fucking smirk on his face that pissed Eddie off so bad every time it was directed at you.
“I wouldn’t say that,” you mumbled. You pulled your top and sports bra over your head, pushed your skirt to the floor. “I was horny and you asked.”
“Sure, baby,” Steve smirked. He ran his hand over your ass again. “Just remember all this belongs to me. And everyone knows it.”
“I’m going to take a shower.” You ignored him, grabbing your bag and heading for the showers. Eddie backed up away from the curtain, afraid you’d see him through the crack.
“Want me to join you?” he asked, but he was already picking up his backpack.
“Go home, Harrington.”
Steve just laughed. He slung his bag over his shoulder and left, letting the door fall closed behind him. He heard the shower start a few stalls down, and he let out a deep breath.
He had to clean up the cum on the curtain, he realized. Fuck. He looked all around before spotting a dirty towel, wiping his mess off the curtain and throwing the towel back in the dirty laundry.
Eddie snuck out of the shower stall and through the locker room. He didn’t relax a single bit until he was out of the locker room and safely down the hall, pushing the exit doors open and speed walking to his van.
Had he taken it too far?
But shit, that was worth it.
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After the shower incident, Eddie made himself take a step back.
The post nut clarity had hit him hard after, like a punch to the face. He had taken it too far. Imagine if you knew what he’d done - he’d be even more of a Hawkins pariah than he already was. That didn’t bother him as much as the thought that you’d hate him.
He tried to stop thinking about you, he really did. He didn’t open the yearbook or stick his hand down his pants for 3 days. That was pretty much a record.
But you made it so hard. Just by existing, by being in the vicinity, Eddie could never think about anything else. He wanted you like he’d never wanted anything, not just your body but all of you. He wanted you to be his so bad he could barely breathe.
So how was he supposed to keep it together when you were right in front of him? When you giggled with your friends with that beautiful smile on your face, those glossed lips he longed to kiss. When you performed a cheer routine and made every other girl on the team look like a total amateur. When you answered a difficult question in class that just proved you had beauty and brains. They didn’t often go hand in hand.
And when you approached him after class Thursday, he swore his heart stopped. That’s the only way you’d be approaching him outside of the normal schedule - which he knew by heart. The only explanation was that he must have died and somehow gone to heaven, and you were the angel here to greet him.
You were wearing a short denim skirt and pink sweater today, your hair styled and earrings dangling from your lobes. You could have worn a garbage bag and you would still have taken his breath away.
“Hey Eddie,” you greeted as you found him by his locker, the sweetest smile on your face. You leaned against the wall of lockers next to him, clutching your books to your chest.
“O-oh…hey,” he greeted you back, trying to look casual as he was freaking out. “What’s up?”
“I was just thinking…” You glanced over, smiling and waving back at one of the cheerleaders as she passed by. You turned your attention back to Eddie - your plush lips shined with whatever lipgloss you were wearing, and Eddie longed to taste it, lick it right off. “Are you free tonight?”
He couldn’t help it - his eyes widened, mouth parting in shock before he could mask his surprise. “Yes- um, I mean, yeah. I’m free. What for?”
“Could we maybe…meet?” You looked up at him through your eyelashes, looking like the picture of innocence - which he knew very well you were not. The contrast of your sweet expression with the girl he saw getting fucked in the school locker room sent his heart racing, cock filling out in his jeans. “Our usual spot?”
“Yeah? Yeah, of course,” he said quickly, nodding his head, curls bouncing. “3:30?”
“That’s perfect.” You smiled even bigger at him, looking like an absolute angel. “Thanks, Eddie. See you there.”
Eddie watched as you walked off, hips swaying, a million people stopping to greet or talk to you as you walked down the hall. Eddie wondered what it must be like to be popular. He wasn’t interested in it for himself, but it was a whole other world to him.
He wanted to tell the guys immediately that he was seeing you today, but thought better of it. They’d just laugh at him, ruin his excitement. This was for him - he held it close to his chest.
After school, he walked to the clearing as fast as his long legs could take him, metal lunchbox in hand. He didn’t have much on him today - he wasn’t expecting to ask to meet. Fridays were definitely his biggest days for sales, not so much the rest of the week.
He gave himself a pep talk as he trekked through the woods behind the school, ducking under branches and feet crunching on dead leaves. He thought about what he’d say - he had to be confident. He couldn’t be stuttering over his words like he had earlier. He rehearsed in his head the things he might say, over and over like he was running lines for a performance. He supposed he was.
When he reached the clearing, he sat on the edge of the picnic table. He picked up a dead leaf on the wood, fidgeting with it, tearing it apart piece by piece, crunching it between his fingers.
At the sound of footsteps, he jumped off the table, looking into the trees. He was sweating, and pretty sure he was currently having heart palpitations. He didn’t know if he’d ever be able to look at you without feeling like he was being hunted for sport.
You were alone - Carol and Tina nowhere to be found, much to Eddie’s relief. You smiled at him as you walked into the clearing. Somehow you looked even more beautiful than when he had seen you earlier. You had a scratch on your knee, probably from a sharp branch brushing against you on the way here. Your foot caught on a tree root on the way to the table, and Eddie rushed forward, catching you before you could hit the ground.
“Woah,” he said, casual, although the feeling of touching you, having you in his arms, sent his heart racing. “Careful, sweetheart.”
“Thanks,” you said, your cheeks hot as you stood back up. “Embarrassing.”
“Not at all.” Eddie smiled kindly, and you realized in that moment that he had a really nice smile. A pretty smile. Eddie wasn’t a bad looking guy at all - he was cute, actually - and he was sweet, too. You found the nerdy thing to be endearing, his bad boy look enticing.
You took a seat on one side of the picnic table, so Eddie slid into the other side. He flipped open his lunchbox. “What can I help you with today, princess? I’m a little low on supply today, but I can get more from home.”
You looked around. “I had just been thinking…” You tapped your fingernails nervously on the wood, avoiding Eddie’s eyes. “I guess I was just wondering…if you have anything…stronger?”
Eddie’s eyes widened. He hadn’t been expecting that. He was shocked enough when he’d first learned that little miss Queen of Hawkins was a bit of a stoner - something that turned him on, if he was honest - but something beyond just weed?
“Um…” he thought for a second, mentally going over his supply. “I don’t have anything on me, but at the house I have some stuff. Have you ever done shrooms?”
You broke out into a grin. “No. Have you?”
“Oh yeah,” he laughed. “I, uh, have some at the house, if you want to…get some?”
You smiled even bigger. “Oh, hell yeah. That sounds amazing.” You thought for a second. “I could ride home with you after practice?”
Eddie practically choked on air at that. “Ride- home? With me? To my house?”
You laughed, although a little awkwardly. “Yeah. You did say it was at the house, right? I mean I definitely don’t have to if you don’t want me to-“
“No!” Eddie said, too fast and too loud. “No. I mean, yeah, it’s fine. You can…uh, we’ll ride to my place together after practice. I’ll hang around.”
He was never ashamed of who he was or where he came from, but the idea of you standing in his trailer made him sweat even worse. But at the same time - you in his house? In his room, even?
“Cool,” you smiled. “You can always come watch practice, y’know, if you want.”
Eddie wasn’t about to say he had watched practice multiple times already, so he just nodded. “Yeah. Okay, yeah, I’ll hang out and watch.”
You smiled even bigger. You actually looked excited at the thought of Eddie watching you practice. “Practice ends at 5, so we can go to your place then.” Something occurred to you then, your smile fading. “Will your, uh…parents be there?”
“No, I live with my uncle,” Eddie explained. “And he works nights at the plant making the big bucks, so…just us.”
You seemed relieved at that. “That must be cool, having the house to yourself all night.”
Eddie shrugged sheepishly. “It can be. I usually just get high and fuck around on my guitar until I pass out.” And, you know, jerk off to your picture with your panties and lotion. It’s not like he had any girls coming over.
Until now. This would be the first time he’d ever had a girl over, and it was you. He had to be dreaming, right?
“Sounds like a good night,” you giggled. You stood from the table, throwing your bag over your shoulder. “I have to run to practice now, but I’ll see you after?”
“Yeah, of course. Won’t let you down,” Eddie said, then felt like a total idiot. “I’ll meet you out front.”
“Sounds good.” You gave him that beautiful smile, the one that always sent him reeling. “See you then, Eddie.”
He watched you go, frozen in place. It’s like his brain short circuited every time you said his name, like he felt it was something too lowly to roll off your tongue, but it always made him ache. Once he snapped out of it, he grabbed his stuff and headed for the field.
At least he could watch you without hiding this time.
part 2 next week
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714 notes · View notes
keaganz · 5 days ago
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Thank you for the proper sentence structure and grammar. It makes your response more legible.
You are the one who is hypersexualising authors who write smut and coined the term horny fucker with a keyboard. So, if I am using that term as a schield to mask my 'lack of creativity and substance', you are using your autism diagnosis as a shield to side step the real issue.
You wish to censor and control what others write because you have an issue with sexual content and people using writing as a medium to explore sexuality. It's absolutely valid not wanting to engage with it. You have that option, but to demonises solely on the premises of I don't like it, is a shit take.
You are the one that said go read a book, I was pointing out that just because a body of work is published and considered traditional literature doesn't mean it's sophisticated and the pinnacle of creativity. I understand that still being in your teens when the plague happened has affected you immensely and has stunted your growth within fandom culture. You are white knighting and parroting conserving talking points.
Smut has always been part of the foundations that make up all literature. That you felt forced and pressured to write smut while not feeling comfortable doing so, is fucked up. You should never feel forced to write what makes you uncomfortable. But again, saying that everyone is forced to and just performing is just wrong and outrageous. It is your opinion that people only write smut for clout because it's popular. I feel absolutely no pressure to add smut to my work, there isn't someone holding a gun to my head saying; now you must write that so and so spreads his legs apart, groaning as his pink fureld opening is reveald. Clenching and uncleching, begging to be filled. I write that because it fits the narrative and helps the flow and feel. I'm sure if there was a man with a gun against my head, I wouldn't write gay sex but hetronomative cisgenderd sex, penis in vagina as you call it. I have friends who aren't comfortable writing smut, so they just don't, and their works are popular.
My most popular work on tumblr is a short rewrite of a scene from a show that isn't sexual in nature. It's purely a what if this had happened, what would have changed.
Wauw calling people addicts because they enjoy a genre of literature you don't is such a low brouw and vilifying take. Saying that reading and writing smut is the same as a meth or heroine addiction is wild. That there is attacking smut authors, something you also did in your original post. Attacks aren't just death threats or threats of violence. Calling people uncreative and lacking substance is also an attack, thinly veiled as 'it's my opinion so you can't get upset'. If you had actual criticism of why you don't like smut, that would be a completely different conversation.
All you said is; Sex is bad writing and I don't like it, so everyone needs to stop writing sex. You're entitled to your opinion, and you're entitled to voice it, but you're not entitled to dictate what other people do or don't write. Again, that's censorship.
In the 25 years that I've been consuming and engaging in fanfiction and fanwork, I have lost so many hours of sleep because a story has gripped me in a choke hold. Some of them I can still summarise from memory because they have stuck and hit a cord. I can safely say that 95% of them have contained SMUT and SEX scenes. One work that I regularly think about is a Gundam Wing work that explores navigating romance, friendships, and SEX and the messy complications while fighting in a war. That one fic I can't find anywhere of Xander from Buffy the Vampire Slayer that gets trapped with Angelus as a what if from the episode that Buffy sends Angelus into a hell dimension, for thousands of years. That centers around their need to work together and oh yeah they fuck nasty about it, after years of relying only on each other.
If you want fanfiction and original works, without smut, stay on Fanfiction.net. They censor, deleat and police any and all works they find problematic and sexual in nature.
I do feel attacked for being called an addict by someone trying to be morally superior and gatekeeping literature because of their own views on sex and sexuality. Throwing around buzz words like hypersexualisation and conservative misogynistic talking points, trying to censor and ban content they don't like. I hope that once your brain finishes developing, you come to understand that not all media is catered to your tastes and preferences and that you get of you moral high horse and understand the world is varying shades of gray and multiple things can coexist peacefully.
Small PSA, you don't want to see certain content, don't engage with it and your algorithm will stop feeding it to you.
bring back real writing.
i don’t use tumblr like i used to or any reading site. not because i’m too grown but because the writing is weak now. where’s the plot? where’s the emotion? where’s the stuff that kept me up all night rereading scenes like they were mine?
y’all be writing the same smutty paragraph 10 different ways and calling it a story. it’s not. it’s just porn with pretty words. and half the time, not even that pretty.
as someone who’s been writing since the first grade, i can tell when something’s got weight. real writers take their own experience, twist it up with imagination, and give it life. that’s not the same as writing “he moaned” 37 times and slapping a fake name on it. i’m sorry, but writing about dick going in pussy isn’t groundbreaking it’s easy. and y’all eat it up like it’s fine dining.
porn with plot writers? most of y’all got no substance. trauma dump, snarky banter, sex scene. repeat. it’s tired. there’s a few anime smut blogs with 30k notes on every post who genuinely couldn’t move me if they tried. no tension. no emotion. no teeth.
and i would name names, but i know all their horny little freaks would bite me in the notes like trained dogs. so i’m chilling. for now.
and can we talk about how the aesthetic of your account matters more than the actual writing? y’all care more about headers and moodboards than building a sentence that breathes. some of my fellow readers are shallow as hell. you’re part of the problem too.
you’ll read something soaked in blood, sweat, and tears and your first comment is: “do they fuck tho?” “part 2! part 2!” not “why did you write this?” not “what inspired this moment?” not even a fuckin “good job.” yuck. no curiosity, no connection, just consumption. and y’all wonder why writers get burnt out. you don’t deserve good stories if you treat them like fast food.
and writers? yeah, i’m talking to you too.
you know you can write a masterpiece, but you’re chasing the smut trend like it’s the only way to eat. YES YOU and i’m bashing myself too, because i fell into that trap. i followed the trend and it crushed me creatively. don’t be like that. don’t water yourself down for attention.
and for the love of words proofread. i don’t care if you told your followers it’d be out tonight — PROOF. READ. you sound tacky and all over the place. take your time. finish the piece, close the tab, then read it again with fresh eyes.
rookie writers? get on Pinterest. read actual books. learn what your beat is. find filler phrases. expand your vocabulary. practice makes perfect, but you’re not practicing… you’re performing. stop.
fuck what your followers want. write what you want. write about that fairy. write about that soft boy. write that sad ass little story no one asked for but you needed to get out. you are not a word porn machine. you are a creator of words. people like me will appreciate it.
with AI rising and everything getting copy-pasted to hell, you are the last hope for stories with real soul. be the person who makes someone stay up all night. be the one who makes them feel. write something that makes you proud.
if this offends you, maybe it should. i’m tired of fake-deep smut being treated like it’s revolutionary. writing takes heart. skill. effort. if you’re not putting any in, you’re not a writer you’re just a horny fucker with a keyboard. I’m not hater, i’m begging. bring back storytelling with teeth. with heart. with voice. i want messy metaphors, too-long paragraphs, dialogue that breathes. i want to read something that makes me clutch my chest and reread a line five times just to feel it again.
we owe it to ourselves and to each other to write like it matters. because it does.
now go write something that keeps someone up at 3AM smiling at their screen. or crying. or both.
just bring back real writing. period.
206 notes · View notes
keaganz · 6 days ago
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|| just how i feel ||
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Pairing: Sue Storm/Reader
Summary: Sue has a secret admirer. She’s too shrewd to miss the clues, and unfortunately for you, she's quick to figure it out. Or maybe it’s fortunate?
Word count: 2.1k
Tags and warnings: Fluff, reader has a crush on Sue, reader is she/her (because please let me have this), no use of Y/N.
(The biggest thank you to @getaapologist for the fic idea! She also has an amazing version of this idea with Johnny, please check it out! Violets and lavender are two flowers very much associated with the LGBTQIA+ community, for anyone wondering. This obviously isn’t canon-compliant, sorry Reed! Just let me steal your girl for a little bit.)
Fic Masterlist || Taglist
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You can't really remember when things started to change, but they have, and you can't ignore the problems that are developing as a result.
Every glance, every look, every little moment of silence between the two of you leaves you wondering. Questioning. Second-guessing.
It's driving you mad, and you know it's only a matter of time before it starts causing issues.
Having a best friend is the most wonderful thing in the world.
Until you realise that you're in love with her.
You had met in college, after signing up for a writing class. You were struggling to fit in, feeling very much like a fish out of water, and thought that maybe you'd have a better chance of making friends if you didn't immediately leave campus after every class.
Sue had stopped to tell you that she thought your bright blue satchel was cute, and you'd been practically inseparable ever since.
You were one of the few people she'd told about what had happened to her after the cosmic storm, and even though the whole world knows about it now, you still hold it close to your heart.
She's practically a celebrity now, and yet she always makes time for you.
"Because I love you," she'd said, with such sincerity that you could have cried.
You know how much she means it, every time she says it.
You just wish she'd mean it in the same way as you. Or that you could go back to feeling how you did before.
Before all of this confusion.
You're on your way home from work one afternoon when something catches your eye, and makes you stop in your tracks.
It's a flower shop. It's been here for years, you've passed it more times than you can count. But for some reason, this time feels...different.
Displayed in the windows are the most beautiful bouquets - roses, lilies, carnations - all perfectly arranged in pretty boxes and neatly tied with organza bows.
Your gaze is drawn to a bright bouquet of in the most vivid shades of pink and purple.
Violets, you realise, and your face suddenly feels warm.
It's one thing to entertain the idea of buying flowers for your best friend, but violets? You don't want to give her the wrong impression.
But you're lying to yourself. Because you do.
You so badly want to tell her how you feel.
You want her to know.
Because she's not just a friend. And she hasn't been for a while.
You nervously chew at your lip, trying to make a decision. Before you can stop yourself, you reach for the handle of the door, and step inside.
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When Sue finally arrives home, she’s exhausted. She’s never been the best at knowing when to set boundaries and call it quits, and after everything that’s happened? Of course, it’s only gotten worse.
So she’s very much looking forward to just shutting the door and forgetting the rest of the world exists for one evening. If it can even let her do that.
Besides, she’s just about managed to accomplish her last main goal of the day - getting everyone home in one piece. Reed promised he’d finish up soon, Johnny only needed a little coaxing this time, and Ben had gone home when he was supposed to about an hour ago. They're like trying to wrangle children sometimes, she thinks to herself, with equal amounts of frustration and fondness.
It’s not that she doesn’t think they appreciate her, she knows they do. It’s just that sometimes she feels as though she’s fighting a losing battle, trying to make sure they take care of themselves.
She's about to toss her bag on the dining table to take off her coat, when she finds herself distracted by the bouquet of violets, arranged carefully in a vase in the centre.
"Doing a little decorating, Ben?" she asks, still focused on the flowers.
"Actually, they were sitting at the door when I got back," Ben replies, from where he stands at the kitchen counter, chopping potatoes.
One of Reed's (many) side projects of late has been working on prototype cooking equipment for Ben. He's missed cooking, and Sue's glad that he's able to do what he loves again.
"Didn't know when you'd be back, so I thought I'd give them a fighting chance in some water."
He turns to gesture at the table.
"There's an envelope too, came with the flowers," he says, with a curious smile. "Addressed to 'Storm'."
Before she can find it herself, Johnny's already slipping past her with the envelope in his hands.
“‘S’cute,” he says, as he turns it over, “'M not really much of a flower guy, though.”
Sue folds her arms, giving him a pointed look.
“And what makes you think they’re for you?” she asks, with a raised eyebrow.
Johnny gives her a look - the same one he’s been giving her since they were kids. The one that makes her see red. The midway point between patronising and arrogant.
The Johnny Special, she calls it.
“Please,” he scoffs. “They're obviously for me.”
“Give it here,” she insists, holding a hand out.
Johnny’s already tearing through the envelope.
Inside is a card.
He scans over it, mouth moving slightly as he reads. A frown begins to form on his face the further down he goes. He flips it over to see if there’s anything written on the back. Nothing.
Sue tilts her head to one side, tapping her foot.
“Well?” she asks, trying to keep the smile from her face. “Who’s your admirer?”
Johnny’s nostrils flare in annoyance, as he all but stuffs the card back into the envelope and tosses it onto the table.
“‘S’for you,” he mumbles, suddenly busying himself with the coffee pot as loudly as possible.
Sue picks up the card, curious as to who it could be from. She looks at the envelope, and a soft smile pulls at her lips when she recognises the handwriting.
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When Sue calls you the next day, your stomach suddenly feels as though it's hit the floor.
Does she know? How can she possibly know?
You didn't sign your name.
She asks if you're free to meet her for coffee.
"Oh," you breathe, relief suddenly flooding through you.
"Is everything alright? she asks, and you can hear the concern in her voice.
"Yes!" you answer, a little too quickly. "Of course, everything's fine."
You can tell that she doesn't believe you, but thankfully, she doesn't push you. You agree on a time and place, and try not to immediately collapse when you hang up.
It's no big deal, you tell yourself over and over. It's just coffee. With a friend.
Friend. Right.
With a tired groan, you bury your face in your hands.
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When you arrive at the little coffee shop the two of you always find yourselves at, Sue's already there, sitting at a table tucked away in a corner. She's reading over the menu, her wavy blond hair tucked behind one ear. Your breath catches in your throat, as if you haven't seen her like this a hundred times before.
But it's different.
She looks up, a bright smile lighting up her face when she spots you. She waves you over, and you just about manage to make yourself move.
She compliments your outfit as you sit down, and asks how you've been. Just like she does every time.
It's so different now.
Your stomach feels like it's in knots, so you decide against ordering food, pretending you'd had a big lunch when Sue looks a little concerned.
As if a mug of coffee is going to be any better for your nerves right now.
The conversation flows pleasantly enough, as it always does. Sue always has something interesting to tell you, and eventually you begin to feel yourself settle a little. You can pretend that everything's fine, just for a moment.
Then there's a beat of silence, before-
“You know, I received the most beautiful bouquet of flowers yesterday,” Sue says casually, her lips quirked into a little smile as she lifts her cup of coffee.
You look at her, warmth creeping into your face.
“Really?” you try to ask in a steady voice. “Who were they from?"
Sue frowns slightly, as if thinking to herself.
“That’s the thing, they didn’t leave a name,” she replies.
You let out a little breath.
“Oh, that’s a shame,” you say, trying to sound unaffected.
Sue hums, taking a sip of her coffee.
“It’s a good thing I recognised the handwriting in the card, isn’t it?” she asks, levelling you with a mischievous look.
You’re grateful that you hadn’t bothered with your own drink in that moment, otherwise it’d most likely be dripping down the front of your shirt right now.
“I, um-“ you start to say, faltering.
No point in lying now.
“Well, I just, I remember you telling me how much you loved flowers, and you’ve been working so hard lately, so y’know, I thought it’d be a nice surprise,” you ramble nervously.
Well, maybe a little lie wouldn’t hurt.
Sue raises an eyebrow at you, with an expression that seems to say "Really?". She sets down her mug, and reaches across the table to place her hand over yours.
“It was a lovely surprise,” she says softly. “Thank you.”
She squeezes your hand lightly, and your breath stutters. You tentatively turn your hand over, and instead of pulling away, she threads her fingers between yours.
Neither of you say anything, and for once in your life, you don’t feel the need to fill the silence. She looks at you with the softest smile on her face, and it takes everything in you not to reach across the table and kiss her like you so desperately want to.
Another little squeeze, and Sue's hand leaves yours.
The moment is gone.
“You know, Johnny thought they were for him,” she says, with a roll of her eyes.
You let out a snort, pushing the feeling that's threatening to overwhelm you to one side as best you can.
“Doesn’t he get enough fan mail?” you ask.
She laughs at that, and your chest tightens at the sight of her. She just looks so beautiful.
“Exactly!” she replies in an exasperated tone, shaking her head.
Her eye catches yours, and there it is again, that soft smile that's slowly tearing your heart to pieces as if it were made of paper.
A lump begins to form in your throat.
Oh, please, you think to yourself. Not now.
"You know, I don't know what I'd do without you," she murmurs. "Everything feels like chaos sometimes."
Her smile widens, showing off the dimples in her cheeks.
“I’m so glad I have you,” she says, with fondness in her voice.
You smile back at her, a little too wide. It hurts.
“Of course!” you reply, wincing slightly at how shrill your voice sounds. “That’s what friends are for.”
Sue shakes her head.
"I think...I think we might be a little past that now," she says.
Her eyes are so focused, watching you so intensely. It feels like she's looking right through you. It's unnerving, and the lump in your throat grows bigger.
"You don't really send violets to a friend, do you?"
She knows.
Oh, please, I can't have ruined it. She just said-
"Please tell me I'm not reading this wrong," she says, a quiet pleading in her voice.
She reaches across the table again, as if in offering, and you tentatively place your hand over hers. You can feel your eyes beginning to well with tears, but for an entirely different reason now.
"No," you manage to reply, "No, you aren't. I promise."
Sue's face lights up at your words, a breathless laugh escaping her. You can't help but laugh too, even as a tear rolls down your cheek.
It's been a long time since you've felt so light. Finally, things don't feel just as terrifying anymore.
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A few days pass. You're in the middle of preparing lunch, when there's a knock at the door. You open it to find no one there; instead, a box waits for you on the welcome mat. It's a beautiful shade of pale purple, with an extravagant organza bow tied around it. You look up and down the apartment hallway, finding it empty, before bringing the box inside and setting it on the kitchen counter.
You carefully pull the ribbon free and lift the lid to find a bouquet of flowers.
Lavender.
Tucked inside the box is a little card. Curious, you open it, to find familiar neat script. You smile to yourself, still not quite daring to believe your luck.
Dinner, tomorrow night?
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