#and i bet you guys think i'm talking about Billy

[gravegroves]

You know what I love? I love that moment in fic where a character fucks up. And I mean fucks. UP! Where the thing that's been building in the shadows, the thing about themselves that they've been warned about but kept ignoring and refuse to work on suddenly rears its head and bites the character in the ass.

That moment where a character says exactly the wrong thing to be hurtful and it's like all the air in the room is suddenly sucked away. That moment where the other character, the one that's been patient finally runs out of that patience and snaps or leaves or just realises that they're done with this person's bullshit.

That moment of Oh. A different Oh than fandom usually talks about. The Oh, shit. I finally went too far and I just realised that it wasn't worth it at all to see how far I could push this person and now I might've lost them for good kind of Oh. It's so painfully cathartic and I love the tightness I get in my chest from it.

And I love it because fic is predictable. Because unless tagged otherwise (insert bugs bunny meme: I wish anyone that doesn't tag unhappy endings a very step on Lego bricks forever) there is a general expectation that things are going to work out. That this character is going to sort out their shit and make everything right again. I live for that stuff. I don't even care if it's cliché. The amount of emotional release I get from a character realising they royally fucked up, doing something about it, then apologising and being forgiven? Mwa! Chefs kiss, 10/10.

[wasawattpadkid]

Housewife

Part - 2

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: poly!ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating,

Part 1

If you heard the names Casey or Steve one more time you might go insane. Stu ran up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist. "Boo!" The binder you held in your arms unceremoniously hit the floor. "Let go of me weirdo." You struggled but he didn't let go. "Did ya hear about Casey and Steve?" You could scream. The heel of your Mary Jane shoes made contact with his toes making him lose his grip. With a huff you picked up your belongings. "Why is everyone so obsessed with them?" Stu cocked an eyebrow at you. "Uh because they were slit open like pigs in a butcher shop?"

"I get that trust me thats all anyone can talk about. But you can't act all sad like you've lost a loved one and then talk in great detail about what organ fell out where. It's inhumane." He leaned back on the lockers listening to you rant. "Yesterday was a complete shit show. That Steve guy was a prick to me and he didn't even know my name yet. So he can't be the saint everyone's making him out to be. Murders happen everywhere all the time these two aren't going to change anything."

"Interesting take from Marry Poppins. What's got your panties in a bunch today?" You opened your locker putting away your things for lunch. "Some asshole started talking to me in 2nd period about how in a movie I'd be a prime suspect because the murders started when I got here." Randy. Stu knew the moment you brought up movies. "Well you did say Steve was an asshat, that's motive Y/n." He was right but let's be real here. You couldn't take on an athlete if you were paid. You rubbed your face in frustration. "Relax I know it's not you. You'd cry if you got blood on that cute little dress of yours." It really wouldn't matter you knew how to take practically any stain out of a piece of clothing.

"You'd be surprised." Just as the words left your lips a kid bumped into you knocking you into Stu. His hands conveniently found your hips. "Watch where you're walking asshole!" Stu shouted with a laugh. You pulled yourself away from him trying to straighten your dress with your hands. "Hey I'm meeting Tatum and everybody by the water fountain, you in?" The idea of being around more people wasn't ideal. Stu could see on your face you didn't want to. "Oh come on Billy's going to be there." He wasn't dumb. Billy was an attractive guy, he was well aware of that. All the girls had a thing for Billy, you were no exception.

"If I go you can't just completely ignore me because I only know you two." Stu shut your locker for you as you continued to walk. "Ignore you? I could never. You could sit on my lap if you wanted to." You fake gagged making him laugh. "I don't think your girlfriend would like that." He just shrugged his shoulders. "Eh I do what I want." This doesn't surprise you. "You are a peace of work." The doors opened letting the light bombard your skin. "Picasso baby!" Stu shouted as he grabbed your hand pulling you towards the fountain.

"Fresh meat everybody!" He declared as you stood uncomfortably in front of everyone. Billy looked more than unamused at your appearance. "Y/n right? You're in my math class?" You nodded at the girl with brown hair. She stuck out her hand for you to shake. "I'm Sydney Prescott." Billy shook his head with a smile. "Nice to meet you Sydney." She smiled up at you and returned the sentiment. "She's the killer I'll bet anybody 10 bucks." If looks could kill he'd be six feet under. "Randy knock it off. You think this adorable face could murder?" Stu pinched your cheeks with a grin on his lips. "Not a chance." He let go and found a seat next to Tatum. "Plus there's no way a girl could've killed them."

"Scoot over let her sit down." Billy huffed but did what Sydney told him. "That is so sexist. The killer could easily be a female, Basic Instinct." You nodded in Tatum's defense. "That was an ice pick. Not exactly the same thing." Stu looked over at all of us before looking at Tatum. "Yeah Casey and Steve were completely hollowed out. The fact is it takes like, a man to do something like that." Sydney looked down at the ground uncomfortable with the conversation.

"I don't know feminine rage is pretty scary. Do you know how many cheating husbands get stabbed to death or fed to the dogs by the wife. The fact is women know how to get a job done quickly and quietly. Men get cocky and want to play around that's how they get caught." Randy snapped his finger point at you. "See what I mean!" Stu laughed and Billy just looked at you with intrigue.

"How do you gut someone?" The honest tone of Sydney's voice made everyone quite down. "You take a knife and you slit them from groin to sternum." Billy sat up seemingly done with the gorey details. "Hey, it's called tact fuckrag." Billy looked at Stu his eyes once again saying more than his words did.

"Change of subject, I like your dress it's very Hepburn." Tatum spoke up. You cleared your throat trying to shake off that uneasy feeling. "Thanks I made it myself." She sat up in shock. "No way! You should totally make me one." If only it were that simple. "You think I'd look good in something like that babe?" She asked Stu and if you knew anything about him he'd give a smartass answer. "I think it'd look better on my bedroom floor but hey." She smacked his arm as everyone shared a laugh.

Stu continued rambling on about the murders with Randy. You were sick of hearing about it and it appeared so was Sydney. Her hand rested on Billy's knee as he whispered something to him. He nodded as she left a kiss on his cheek. The moment she left his demeanor darkened even more. He looked truly angry at this point. You assumed it was because Stu had upset her. Billy leaned next to you just enough to hit Stu's arm. "Ow man what gives? I was joking!" Billy was the next to get up followed by Randy.

"Hey Y/n? Are you doing anything Saturday? Me and Syd were going to hang out this weekend you could totally join." You knew Stu and Billy had plans to hang out with you and by the look on Stu's face he'd be upset if you said yes to Tatum. "Can't. My dad's going to be gone this weekend so I have to house sit." The smile on Stu's face was far from innocent. "You think with a killer on the loose you should be home alone?" She had a point but you doubted there was a serial killer running around. "I know how to lock my doors I'll be fine. Promise."

The school day went by fast thankfully. But once again everyone crowded around your car. "I'm not giving you a ride today." You shook your head. "I was thinking we could all go riding around maybe go to the mall? Someone's got to give you a tour." Stu said gesturing to the friend group you know found yourself a part of. "You don't have to of course." Sydney chimed in. She was probably the nicest one out of the group. "Who's got money for gas?" In an instant Stu handed you a crumpled up 100 dollar bill. "That should cover it and don't ask where its been." He noticed the shock on your face. "Don't worry there's more where that came from." He winked at you and Tatum rolled her eyes. You shoved the bill in your purse snapping it shut.

"Ive got work today so I'll catch you all later." Randy said as he walked away. You felt a little bad you were relieved at his absence. "Okay I've got bench seats so three people can sit up front and three in the back. "I call back seat with Stu." Tatum pulled at his shirt dragged him to the back. "No doing anything weird back there this is my dad's car." Tatum just laughed and Stu stuck his tounge out shaking it at you in protest. "Oh shit I forgot I've got to study for that exam tomorrow. I have to get home." Stu started to boo and Tatum echoed her boyfriend. "We'll only be gone a couple hours Syd."

"I have to pass this test Billy. You go ahead and go. You guys have fun!" She grabbed her bag and headed off towards the busses. Billy sat in the passenger seat again same aggravated look on his face. "Would it kill you to smile?" You asked lightheartedly. He turned to you flashing the fakest smile you'd ever seen. "See was that so hard?" Sarcasm dripping off your words. "Incredibly."

The mall wasn't hard to find after Tatum gave you some directions. You weren't sure how this little outing would go. On one hand it was nice having friends and spending time with people but on the other you and Billy were third wheeling. You had only been through half the stores and Stu already managed to spend an egregious amount. "Ooh help me pick out a set." Tatum said pulling Stu into the Victoria's Secret. Billy followed them in so you had no choice but to follow suit. "Do you have a boyfriend?" Billy asked as he touched the lace fabric on a teddy. "Odd question to ask considering you have a girlfriend."

"Fuck me for trying to make conversation." You laughed and decided to play along. "I do. We're trying the whole long distance thing." Billy found it hard to make eye contact with you. Choosing to play with and pick up anything around him to keep his hands busy. "He's probably cheating you know? Teenage boys do that." You're beginning to think both him and Stu have absolutely no filter. "Probably but it's not the like the guys around here are any better. I mean look at you and Stu." You're eyes flickered over to Stu holding up a bra to his chest declaring he was a girl. With a shake of the head you turn back to Billy. His eyes met with yours and for the first time he didn't advert his gaze. "Do you wear anything like this?" He gestured towards the thongs and see through bras.

"Nah I'm more into ropes and whips." You joke thinking if anyone would find it funny he would. His eye grew just a tiny bit wider surprised at your response. His lips quirked upwards a small smirk playing at his mouth. "I'm kidding!" Your face grew hot as he looked back down at what you were wearing. "No you're not. You're a freak. It's always the nice girls." Scoffing at that you wiped your hands down your dress trying to pull it further down your legs.

He smiled knowing he was making you uncomfortable. "You're a real creep you know that?" He held up in hands in fake surrender. "You caught me." Tatum shouted your name from across the store. "That's my que." You had no idea where she was or what she was doing. "She's in the dressing room I offered to help but ya know." He raised his eyebrows suggestively as if you didn't already know what he meant.

"Tatum it's me." You knocked on the door and it opened immediately. Her arm stuck out grabbing you and pulling you in. "You've got to stop doing that." You said in a hushed voice. "Opinions?" She said as she spun around practically naked. The red lace nightie left little to the imagination. "Um I think it looks cute. It doesn't cover much does it?" You ask and she laughed. "That's the point silly. You don't think it makes me look fat?" She was so skinny you worried about were her organs were let alone be over weight. "You look fine hun. I'm gonna go check on the guys." She said alright and let you slip out of the dressing room.

"We got you something." Stu shook the bag in front of your face startling you. "He got it." Billy spoke up as you took the bag from Stu. "No you grabbed it and said it would-" A swift punch to the ribs shut the blonde boy up. "Don't open it till later." Billy said and for some reason you agreed. "Is she about done in there?" The door opened and Tatum eagerly ran to the checkout desk. Stu like a puppy followed right behind her leaving you and Billy alone again.

"What did you get me?" Once again his eyes were on the floor. "Wouldn't you like to know?" He quipped his eyes finally reaching your face. "I would. That's why I asked." You both smiled at the small reenactment. "You didn't have to get me anything especially from here." He grabbed the bag from you tying the ribbon strings together. "Don't get too excited it's not a ball gag or anything." You smacked his arm snatching the bag back. "Plus I didn't pay for it. Rich boy over there did." He pointed at Stu.

"I'm hitting up Spencer gifts who's coming with me?" Going into that store with Stu was probably the dumbest thing you could do. "I'm in." You said mentally regretting it. "I'll go where you go." Tatum said as she hugged his arm. The last one to go was Billy. "Let's just get this over with." Stu practically ran to the opposite end of the mall with Tatum tossed over his shoulder. "There's no way your feet aren't killing you." Billy said looking down at your heels.

"I grew up in high heels mister. I could run in these bad boys if I had to." You weren't kidding. Growing up in a household where you had church every Sunday and you only had one pair of sneakers, you could run in heels. "I doubt that." He was getting more comfortable around you. Billy didn't even realize it. He used to be fun. He used to screw around and let loose like Stu does. Since his mom left and the world seemed to collapse around him he just had one to many stabs in the back.

"Wanna race?" He looked at you with a childlike curiosity. He would win he knew that much. Considering his murderous tendencies he could beat you in ten seconds flat. "I run to the store and if you catch me before I get there you win. What do you say?" Before he could answer you took off running. It was supposed to be fun for the both of you. A little game of cat and mouse. What you didn't realize was how seriously he would take it. The simple sound of his boots gaining up on you was terrifying. Your laughter stopped as you sped up.

You ran around people, who were then pushed out of the way by Billy. This was no longer a game. He was trying to catch you. The click of your heels got faster and faster till you ran into someone. "Woah there what's going on?" You looked up and saw Stu waiting at the door of Spencer's. You won. Billy was just two steps behind you the entire time. "Damnit!" He exclaimed appearing genuinely pissed that he didn't grab you. Tatum chimed in asking him what the hell was going on. After all to them it seemed like something horribly wrong had happened. "We were just playing. I told him we'd race each other." You looked back at Billy trying to catch his breath.

"Billy Loomis playing a game? Now that's unheard of." Stu gasped as he walked in the store. You approached Billy deciding to check on him. Your hand touched his shoulders as they heaved up and down. "Are you okay?" His hand wrapped around your wrist tighten enough to bare pain. "I'm fine." He flung your hand away, leaving you behind as he walked in the store. So much for that. It was hot and cold with him. You couldn't figure it out and you weren't sure if you wanted to.

Stu and Tatum were over in the novelty section making dirty jokes and just getting on each other's nerves. You didn't know where Billy went. You walked to the back of the store ignoring the adult toy section. You looked down at your stockings noticing the big rip on your right leg. "Shit!" You cursed picking at the hole. Going through the short selection of stockings they had to offer you finally settled on a pair. They were thigh highs which is something you usually didn't wear. Victoria's secret bag and stockings in hand you walked up to the cashier and paid.

Afterwards you met up with Stu and Tatum who were as equally ready to leave as you were. "Where's Billy?" She asked. "I have no idea." Stu leaned over trying to peak into the Spencer bag. "You get something from the back?" You did but you weren't going to be honest about it. "I did. I got it for Tatum though. She deserves at least six inches." She started to laugh as Stu acted all dramatic. "Ha ha really funny. Go ahead laugh it up. I'll have you know she's perfectly content with what she's got." Tatum shook her head making you laugh even harder. "You guys ready to go?"

"Where'd you go?" You asked Billy as he shoved his hands in his pockets. "Bathroom." You're not sure what you did to piss him off. Is he butthurt that you beat him in a race? That can't be it he's not 5. He shouldn't be upset by such a small thing. "Let's go bitches!" Stu and Tatum walked hand in hand once again leaving you and Billy to talk. "Did I do something wrong?" You ask gingerly not to upset him further. "No." Another one word answer.

"We can race again. I'll let you catch me this time. I'll play dead and everything if you'd like." You laughed trying everything in your power to make him tolerate you again. "You would?" You weren't being serious but if that's what it took so be it. "If you'll stop being mad at me I will." That somehow put a smile on his face. "Should I start running?" You joke and he actually chuckles. "No no. We'll save that for later."

Everyone makes their way to your car getting in the same seats as before. "I know where Stu lives where do you two live?" You sit your bags in the floor next to Billy's black combat boots. "I'm going to her house before I go home so you can take me there. She's going to take me home before they pick up Sydney." She proceeds to giggle at the admission. "Just drop me off at Stu's" Billy says as he slicks his hair back. "Do you live at Stu's place?" You start the car leaving the mall in your rearview mirror. "Stu's parents are never home so they practically live together."

Billy looked out the window not making eye contact with anyone in the car. "Means I throw the best damn parties our school has ever seen." Stu and Tatum rejoiced in the back. That fact left more questions than answers. It made sense why Stu seemed to be so flippant with money. It even explained his overall behavior. Billy's case however was different. How bad was it at his house that he needed to live with Stu? In all honesty you felt bad for both the boys.

"Hey Billy open the glove compartment and play something." He did as told until he saw the contents of the glove box. "What the hell?" He said as he pulled out an 8 track. "Listen my dad had an 8 track player put in back in the 70s so that's all I got." With a smile on his face he dug through all the boxes.

Pushing the tape into the car AC/DC blasted through the speakers. "How'd I know you'd pick that one?" He carefully put all the tapes back where he got them. "I have good taste what can I say?" He shrugged. First stop was Tatum's house. She gave you the directions which you quickly found out she lives on the same street as you. "Your lights on upstairs is your dad home? I saw your car in the driveway this morning." Tatum asked pointing at your house. Fuck. "So this is where the mysterious Betty Crocker lives." Stu laughed putting on his best Vincent Price voice. Billy was just satisfied in knowing where you live. "Yeah my dad is. He's probably sleeping though he's got to get up early in the morning which means I've have to get home so scoot." You waved the couple out of your car quickly.

You pulled away getting just a couple houses down the road before your car began to stall. "What's wrong?" Billy asked as you look around. "I don't know it hasn't done this before." You turned the car off and on again but nothing happened. "Does it have gas?" You didn't get gas. The crumpled 100 was still shoved in your purse. "Son of a bitch." You cursed as you hit the steering wheel. "Hop out I've got to go get the gas can out of my garage."

"Do I get a house tour?" You stayed quiet genuinely upset at your ignorance. "Listen when we go inside I want you to be quiet. Okay?" Billy nodded as you unlocked your front door. "Holy shi-" You immediately covered his mouth. "I told you to be quiet." Slowly you pulled your hand away and he stepped into the house. "What year do you think it is?" You shut the door as quietly as possible knowing your dad could get up at anytime. "Oh shut up." Billy looked around at the old pictures, the old decor, really the old everything. Billy didn't come from rich parents like Stu. Your house was definitely bigger and better but it didn't have the rich person feel. Billy's house wasn't the problem for him, it was the people in it. It used to be a happy home but all that was waiting for him now was alcohol and fights.

While you sat your bags down he looked around the place. It looked like no one had bought anything new for the place since the 70s. The TV in the living room was 90% wood and the kitchen was a tacky yellow. All the appliances on the counters had to be at least 20 years old. Hell the phone on the wall was a rotary dial phone. Billy felt like he was walking into the Myers house.

"Let's go!" You whisper yelled at him the heavy gas can pulling on your arm. "Give it to me." Billy grabbed the can with ease helping you out the front door. He went ahead and filled the car up for you so you could run the empty can back inside. "Thank you." You said with a huff throwing yourself in the driver seat. "It's nothing." He replied already ready to go. Before you did anything you peeled the heels off your feet tossing them in the back seat. The next to come off were your ripped stockings. Billy watched as your upper thigh was exposed. He could see the hem of your pink underwear before you caught him.

"Perv." You smiled knowing he had to be a little flustered. He just shook his head looking at the ceiling. You threw the stockings in the back seat with your shoes. Billy cleared his throat trying to start up a conversation."Your house is nice." You breathed out a laugh as you started the car. "You don't have to lie."

Billy's demeanor changed once again. Now that it was just you and him he had one leg bent on the seat so his body could face towards you. Even though your eyes were on the road you could feel his burning holes in you. "I mean it. It's different. Better than all those rich bitches we go to school with." He wasn't lying. It was hard to find anyone who had an actual personality these days.

"I know it's not everyone's cup of tea. My dad doesn't really care what I do with the house as long as there is food on the table when he gets home." Billy bit his lip in thought. "So you did all of that?" He found it impressive to say the least. "Not really. I haven't messed with much since my grandparents passed. The way the kept things always seemed nice as a kid. And I don't see the sense in wasting money on new stuff when I've got perfectly good old stuff that works." He saw the way your eyes grew wide when Stu handed you that hundred. You're not a money person. You were modest. Going through the mall you only bought one thing for yourself while Tatum begged for everything she saw.

"How often is your dad gone?" He asked. A dangerous question to answer if Billy's asking it. "He can be gone for weeks at a time. He's a truck driver. He goes where his boss tells him to go." The car goes quiet for a little while. Luckily for you it's comfortable. "What about you? How's your mom and dad?" You meant nothing hateful by it and he knew that. "I live with my dad too. My parents split up." You could feel him putting those walls back up. It was night and day with Billy. Slowly you car came to a stop in Stu's driveway. "My mom isn't in the picture either. You know if that shit ever starts to bother you, you can call me. As long as your girlfriends okay with it that is." You grabbed a pen out of the glove compartment gently pulling Billy's hand towards your lap.

His hand sat on top of your right thigh as you touched the tip of the pen to your tongue. Carefully your wrote down your phone number where the numbers were visible. Billy for the first time in awhile, he was the one who was scared. Scared of moving even the tiniest bit. A simple harsh breath would ruin whatever this was. Softly you brought his hand up to your face blowing cool air on the drying ink. "There ya go." You tossed his hand back, your gentle nature now gone. "But um yeah if you ever need to talk you can call me."

Funny enough he didn't want to call you. "Sure." Was all he could muster up. Billy finally decided he didn't want you dead like the rest of them. You were kind enough not to piss people off but you were sure of what you wanted. Too trusting, yes but it definitely helped his case. He'd have to make a new plan one that doesn't get you hurt. Well, one that doesn't get you killed.

Part 3

[weird-an]

When Robin first met Steve, she thought he was all arrogance and confidence, thought he was bullshit.

She got to know him, looked behind the picture of King Steve, the fallen jock of Hawkins High. She likes Steve. Loves him like a brother sometimes.

She's surprised though that he's so oblivious sometimes. That guy dated half of the school, okay, all of them girls, even though she knows that Steve Harrington's virginity will forever be Tommy Hagan's greatest steal, but how can Steve be so blind?

Steve's face is flushed when he finds her after the last period, when they are supposed to spend the rainy afternoon on the couch, watching Disney movies or whatever.

"I think Billy is theatening me!" Steve says, eyes huge. Like always when he's talking about Billy. Which he does a lot. Most of the day.

Because they are rivals, he says.

Because he's got a big fat crush, Robin has inferred after the last "Billy Hargrove is disgusting" ramble Steve annoyed her with for two hours.

She suppresses a grin that wants to mix with a sigh which leads to a weird hiccup.

"What's going on?"

"He sent me notes today. This one says 'I'm watching you, pretty boy.'" Steve waves a piece of paper in front of her. Billy's handwriting is surprisingly neat.

That's not really a surprise. Billy stares at Steve as if he's an oasis in the desert. Steve stares at Billy like he's a cake and there's only one piece left.

There's her hiccup again.

" … and the other?" she asks. It's amusing, she has to admit. At the same time she wants to smush them together like the Barbie dolls she had played with as a child. She created epic love stories - lacking Ken the whole time, because a Barbie deserved another Barbie, not some boring ass dude.

Steve ruffles his hair. "It’s even worse. It says 'I'm waiting for you in the parking lot!'"

Robin snorts. That's it. She's glad Billy apparently had gotten around to the realization that it's not a rivalry but the exact opposite. Of course Billy Hargrove can't just say "I like you". That would be too easy.

"I think you're both idiots," she hiccups. Damn, that's getting out of hand.

Steve puts his hands in his hips. "What?" he asks.

"Go to the parking lot!" Robin points at the door.

"I don't wanna fight," Steve begins.

Robin can't stand this hiccup any longer.

"He doesn't want to fight - he wants to fuck," she almost yells.

Steve gapes at her.

"Maybe it's a joke," he manages.

"What if it isn't?" she asks.

Steve's moles drown in the pinkness of his cheeks.

"I… should go," he says. "Thanks, Robin."

"Welcome, dingus."

She shouldn’t follow him, but she still does, because he’s a bit of an idiot and she loves him. She wants to make sure, she isn’t wrong. She peeks around the corner. It's still raining a bit, more a drizzle than anything.

Billy is wearing his tightest pair of jeans. He's leaning against the Camaro, sucking on a cigarette. Pretending he isn't soaking wet. It's almost adorable.

"Harrington, I bet your lame ass still hasn't seen Terminator, " he says, stroking a wet curl out of his dace.

"You don't know that," Steve grumbles.

Billy tilts his head. His face flushes a bit, too. They are matching tones of pink.

"'M drivin'," Billy mumbles.

Steve grins. "I'm buying, then."

Billy nearly drops his cigarette.

"Cool," he says, face still red.

She watches them drive off, high-fiving a very confused Jonathan Byers who just happens to walk to his car.

Her hiccup is gone. Finally.

[sweet-villain]

Trying To Make It Make Sense~ B.H

Anonymous asked:

I'm so happy to see you back! I hope things are well :) I do have a request if you are taking then but if not that's totally ok!

My idea was if the reader was dating billy and is friends with Eddie and the whole gang? Maybe just some fluff of them hanging out as a group but billy makes it known he's with the reader through pda and being cuties with her

Note : I don't really see Billy being really an affectionate type around people.

You stared down at your lap and fidget with your fingers as you felt eyes on you.

It felt like the most uncomfortable silence as your friends stare in disbelief in what they were seeing. It wasn’t anything that bad, you thought.

To them, this was a first and a shocker to them all. You had a boyfriend.

His name was Billy Hargrove. The same Billy Hargrove that picked on Steve.

The same Billy Hargrove that called, his step sister Max, shit bird. The very same on that drove the loud Camara. 

  An arm wraps around your shoulder as someone pulls you into them, its familiar arm fills you with comfort. It’s Billy.

He chews the gum in his mouth as he stares down back at Eddie, Dustin, Steve, Max and the rest like they were challenging him. 

“ Is this a joke? Have you done something to her, Hargrove because I swear-” Eddie gets off by you as your head shot up and you shake your head. 

“ Eddie, stop” you stood up from your spot that you were sitting at to stop Eddie who looked like he was ready to throw hands if he needed to. He had his fist by his side as his jaw clenched tight. 

“ I don’t understand why you were with him. I mean, come out. Out of every guy in Hawkins. You pick him” Steve throws his hands up as he shakes his head in disbelief.

He was more shocked that he wasn’t your first choice in this matter. The two of you were close and had moments where the two of you would flirt. 

Steve didn't like this at all.

Billy smirked as he eyed Steve. Steve kept muttering to himself with his hands folded across his chest. 

Max had a feeling the two of you would get together since you kept coming over to tell “ I’m just tutoring Billy. The teacher asked me to, and I was happy to do it.” You had to use that to be around Billy in his room to get past Neil.

He wasn’t too happy about having a girl in Billy’s room. 

The door was to be opened and one day Neil walked by to see the two of you closer than he liked and the studying had to be done in the kitchen.

Susan had turned a liking to you and she would watch some softness come out in Billy when you were around. She didn’t dare to tell Neil. 

Max saw it too. 

“ Did you know anything about this?” Dustin asked, as he looked towards Max for answers. Max simply had a smile on her face as she shrugged. 

“ You two really think they are together?” Steve suddenly asked, coming out of his pouty face and uncrossed his arms as he continued to stare down at Billy with a glare on his face.

“ These two must be playing some game.” 

“ Games are for kids, Harrington. Seems like that more your turf” Billy says. 

Inside Billy was kinda nervous being surrounded by your friends who were staring like they were about to run after him with pitchforks. 

“ Who did you make a bet with, hm?” The question catches you off guard and everyone turns to stare at Eddie who for one second doesn’t believe you are going out with Billy Hargrove.

There was no way. 

“ Did Carver put you up to this?” Eddie continued to ask. “ The two of you seem to chatter like little old ladies from the last time I saw you two.” 

“ What is your business that I talk to my friends about, Munson?” Billy asked.

“ Friends” Steve, snorted. 

Billy turns to Steve hearing him snicker. 

“ You have something to say, Harrington?” Steve shot up from his seat as he put his hands on his hips as he stared down at Billy. “ Why her?” Steve asks. 

Billy’s face changes at the question and Robin swore for a moment she saw it.

There was a wall breaking that he had put up a front like he always does. Her eyes widened a bit as she caught it. She looked around the room to see if anyone else caught it.

No one did as they continued to look at Billy. She felt proud of herself and mentally gave herself a pat on her head.

You glanced up at your boyfriend who still has his arms around you. He felt you staring at the side of his head and turned his head to glance down at you.

His blue eyes met your own and they were shining. 

“ Is that a smile?” Dustin asked. Max swatted his arm. “ Ow! That hurt, no need to get abusive. Jeesus.” 

She only did it because she saw Billy was having a moment as he looked down at you. She never saw him like this. Happy. 

“ Because she makes me feel like I’m not alone, that finally I belong” what Billy really wanted to say was that he loves you but he wasn’t about to say it in front of your friends knowing they were going to use that against him. 

You melted at his words knowing he meant that you made him feel safe. You made him feel wanted. That he mattered. To you. That was enough for him. 

The girls “ awed” at his words and happily sighed seeing the way Billy looked at you and the way you looked at him. 

Your hand came up to cup his cheek, immediately he leaned into your touch feeling it would be a while since you’ll touch him again.

Some of his hair falls into his eyes while he leans in and they sparkle. 

“ Gross” and “ ew” and “ I’m going to throw up” are what interrupted the moment between the two of you. Billy forgot for a moment that other people were in the room with him and you.

Immediately a scold appeared on his face as he turned to your friends. Their eyes widened at his fast reaction and they all gulped. 

“ If any of you use the words I said leave your mouth and I hear you babbling, I will not hesitate to do something about it. Is that clear?” Billy asked with his fist by his sides. 

The gang didn’t get to answer him because your hand reached out to tug his jacket letting him know you wanted his attention. His eyes drop down where your hand is tugging his jacket and his fist unclenches.

“ Sit down, Billy. They won’t. I know them. Right, guys?” you turn to look at your friends. “ I’m really happy with him and I know you guys aren’t happy with me right now. But he cares about me, I care about him and that should be enough for you guys.” 

Billy sits back down as his hand lands on your leg as it rests there with your hand falling on top of him. The sensation of warmth fills him and his heart races as he turns to look at you. The smile returns to his face. 

For the first time everyone is shocked and finds it strange how you softened Billy Hargrove. He was smiling right now crying out loud. 

“ Hargrove” Eddie calls out to Billy, catching his attention. “ I will not hesitate to break your bones or light your car on fire if you ever hurt her” he points his ring finger at Billy.

“ I don’t care if you're sorry or you're going to plead. You hurt her. I will hurt you.” 

Eddie has always been the most protective of you, you were like a little sister to him.

You were always coming over to bring him food, making sure he was fed and looking after him when he’s sick. You would check on Wayne too, make sure he had new clothes to wear too. You were family to the Munson’s. 

“ Eds” you called out to him. He turns his head to glance at you. 

“ Thank you for looking out for me, but I can handle it.” 

“ I’m never going to hurt her, '' Billy says. “ If I do, then shit bird can sell my car, '' he says with a grumble. His car means a lot to him and for him to say that means that he does really care about you. The gang is surprised once again. 

“ Don’t sell it, we can burn it” Mike says. Billy goes up to look like he was going to pounce on Mike but you hold him back, shaking your head. 

“ We’re serious Hargrove,” Steve says. “ You do anything to hurt her, in any way” he points to the gang, “ you better run. Because you are not coming back on your two legs” 

“ She means a lot to us” Nancy says “ she’s our best friend.” 

“ That we do anything for” Lucus says. 

Billy chuckles, “ You don’t scare me peepsqueaks” he looks between Dustin, Lucas and Mike. 

“ We’re serious Billy” Max says to him. “ Even if you're my step brother. You hurt her-” 

“ We hurt you” El finishes. “ But we're happy for you,” she adds as he looks around the group. “ Right?” The group grumbles underneath their breath. 

“ No, say it with me” El claps her hands as he points to you and Billy “ we are happy for them.” 

All you heard were a bunch of groans and “ yeah, yeah” and “ we don’t trust him still” and Robin said, “ he’s more of a dingus than Harrington is.” 

You loved your friends and wouldn’t change them for the world.

Sudden feeling of a peck on your cheek breaks your attention from looking at your friends but at your boyfriend who shrugs like he wasn’t the one who did it.

But he did. He wanted to show some sort of affection, but not too much because he isn’t like that around people. 

You knew he only did that to show that you really were his and he was serious about you to your friends.

Even though he did place his hands on your leg and had his arm around you. He got up the courage to kiss you on the cheek. 

You didn’t ask him to show this type of affection. He did it on his own and you can tell he was proud of himself as he glanced at his lap with his cheeks hinted red. 

“ Okay, there will be none of that around” Dustin says as he points between the two of you. 

“ There will be ground rules if he is going to be around us” Mike says. 

Max rolls her eyes, but she nods a little knowing what was coming. 

“ There will be no kissing,” Dustin says. 

“ No touching like” Mike looks down at himself looking around where. Robin hits him upside the head which he whines about as he rubs the back of his head, glaring at her. 

“ That wasn’t necessary,” he says.

“ Trust me, it was,” Steve says. 

“ But ease down on the public affection. If the two of you want to touch and make out, there is a home were two of you live in and a car which you drive in” Eddie says. 

“ Are you jealous, Munson?” Billy asked as he leaned a bit to inspect Eddie. Eddie scrunched up his nose and shook his head. He felt a shiver run down his spine. 

“ Jealous of what? You two? No way, Y/N is like a sister to me and that would be gross” 

In the middle of this, your hand interlaces with Billys and it doesn’t slide between your friends as the spot it. 

“ awe, they are holding hands' ' El gushes and stares at Mike, hitting his shoulder. “ Why do you not hold my hand anymore?” Mike rubs his shoulder as he looks away from El and looks around asking for help. 

The rest of the conversation between your friends, you block out because you happily stare at your boyfriend as he starts to talk with you friends.

You were hoping they would warm up to him. You squeezed Billy’s hand letting him know you're still there and not going to leave any time soon. 

Billy had the warmest feeling inside, he began to laugh with his friends and teased Steve. 

This felt like home.

[thatharringrovehoe]

I'm thinking of an AU where Billy wasn't involved in the shenanigans/horrors of season three at all. He worked at the pool, picked up extra shifts ever since Heather stopped showing up, went to scoops every chance he got just to see Steve Harrington's fat ass in those tiny shorts. He has a night off for once and decides to go and see that new sci-fi movie playing at the mall. Near the end he swears he can hear Harrington laughing like a lunatic with some girl down in the front row, but when the movie ends Billy doesn't see him in the que to leave, just the girl he works with huddled around a bucket of popcorn and giggling to herself while she wanders towards the water fountain. He needs to piss, so Billy makes his way to the bathroom, stopping short outside the entrance when the sound of someone wretching up what must be all of their internal organs filters through the door. He debates just going home, but he actually *really* has to go. So.

Billy pushes open the door, ignoring the painful vomiting sounds three doors down and takes care of business. It's not until he saunters up to wash his hands that he notices a pair of very familiar Nike's sticking out across the floor. And there sits Harrington, hugging the toilet like a lifeline and panting into the crook of his elbow.

"Harrington? Shit, you alright?"

And normally he'd poke fun. Pretty boy is obviously on something, evident by his blown out pupils and glassy stare. But he's also sweating buckets and shaking, tears and snot running down his face. And Jesus ever loving *fuck*, whoever worked over pretty boy's face wasn't pulling any punches.

Steve squints, eyes traveling slowly from Billy's boots up to his face. He smiles, dopey and high and Billy winces at how it pulls the purple black swelling of his cheek.

"Yeah, I feel way better now."

Which. *Okaaaaay*.

"I'll bet. What the fuck happened to your face?"

"I was integrated-..inter...interror-...I was tortured by Russian spies"

Billy snorts, amused despite himself.

"Oh yeah? That why you weren't at the counter today, sailor?"

Steve scrunches up his nose, and damn, Billy's gunna have to ask Harrington what he took when he's a bit more sober. It's some potent stuff if he's not even flinching moving an obviously broken nose like that.

"You know my shift schedule?"

*Shit*. Billy feels the tips of his ears go hot. Clearing his throat awkwardly as he glances down at his boots.

Time to change the subject.

"Why were you being *interrogated* by Russian spies, pretty boy?"

Steve sucks his teeth.

"Cuz the monsters came back and Robin cracked Dustin's code and then we went under the mall in an elevator to a secret Russian Army base and got caught and then they beat me up and shot me and Robin up with truth syrup and-...umm....I think that's it."

Billy blinks.

Once.

Twice.

And. *Huh*.

"That right?"

Steve nods, swaying dangerously forward before catching himself on the stall doorway.

Whatever he's on, Steve obviously *believes* what he's saying. There might even be something to that 'truth serum' element considering how he's answered all of Billy's questions so easily. And Billy never once in his life claimed to be a good person.

"Why were you with my sister at the Byers' house last winter?"

Steve's head shoots up, eyes wide as saucers and for one horrifying moment Billy's sure the guy is going to start crying. Thankfully he doesn't, just slumps even heavier against the toilet with a sigh.

"Because there are monsters in the dark. And I was supposed to protect them. I *had* to protect them. Hopper said to *stay*. And then you showed up and Max said you were gonna kill her and I was supposed to keep them *safe*"

Billy tries to parse through whatever make believe bullshit Steve is spouting before getting caught on the whole *killing his sister* part.

"What, and you believed her?"

Steve gives him a considering look. Barring the rest of *whatever the fuck* Steve is talking about, Billy isn't sure he wants to hear the answer the guy is obviously mulling over.

Finally, he settles on "I don't anymore", and something sharp and hurt in Billy's chest settles.

"Hmm. Alright. If you've been *shot up with truth syrup*" Billy huffs a laugh "tell me a secret. Something you specifically don't want me to know."

Again, Billy's never claimed to be a good person.

Somewhere under all that blood and bruising, Billy thinks he sees a flush creep up Harrington's neck.

*Jackpot*

"I'm the one who keeps stealing your photo from the pool corkboard"

He-..

Wait

What?

"That's-. Uh. Not what I thought you were gonna say."

Steve shrugs, embarrassed and looking anywhere but Billy. And Billy *has to know*. Has to ask.

"Why?"

Harrington looks up at him, not a trace of a lie in his eyes.

"Cuz every time I go to the pool to ask you on a date I chicken out."

Billy can't feel his fucking *face*. He has no idea what to say.

It's at this exact moment one of Max's nerd friends kicks down the bathroom door, holding Scoops girl by the shirt while Sinclair's little sister levels Billy with a challenging glare that has shame curling hot and acrid in his gut.

"STEVE! We've been looking *everywhere* for you! C'mon buddy, we have to get outta here before the Russian guys find us."

These hicks are fucking insane.

After helping Steve up to rinse out his mouth in the sink, Billy walks out of the bathroom with Harrington hanging off his shoulder when a bullet whizzes past his nose to embed itself in the cement wall.

Henderson is screaming "Shit, they found us!" while two men in black combat gear come charging up the escalator, armed to the teeth. They bark orders out in what is obviously Russian before a show car *flies through the air* and crushes them against the wall.

After Billy is introduced to a little girl with God damn *superpowers*, he's given a bare bones explanation while Steve plays with one of Billy's stray curls like it's the most interesting thing in the world. And monsters are real and there's a spider made of people out to get them and apparently Heather is possessed and all Billy can hear is

***Cuz every time I go to the pool to ask you on a date I chicken out***

[slutforsnow]

Lady With Lousy Luck

Part two of "A Pretty Girl Playin' With The Big Boy's" (<-link to pt 1)

CW/TW// guns, Billy is his own warning (so is Jesse, but this aint abt him LMAO), shooting, talk about abusive/manipulative ex and old friend, scars, forced marriage (?), shooting, grooming

Summary: Violet hangs with Billy and Jesse as they go shooting and get to know each other

A/N: Oh. My. Satan. GUYS ILY FOR GIVING PART ONE A CHANCE TY😭😭🫶🏼🫶🏼 also I might proofread that cause I posted it at 2am LMFAO if you guys have any writing tips/notice any misspellings lmk (also this is after the scene where he helps Kathleen working before he goes shooting with Jesse)

"Vi, why did you bet so much?" Jesse inquired as they walked to the make-shift shooting area after leaving Billy to let him join and check up on his ma. She shrugged, not really knowin' why herself.

"Don't know, just felt like it." As she spoke, she was rubbing her arm red and raw from how hard that gambler had grabbed her. She scowled as they walked, biting the inside inside of her cheek. The gambler had looked too similar to her ex. Shaking her head, she shuddered, trying to rid the image of her ex's face from her mind. 'Outta sight, outta mind my ass.'

"What's Billy like?" She questioned back, avoiding the topic of why she shuddered or bet so much.

"How d'you mean? I've told you he's a pretty damn good gunslinger for his age." Jesse looked at his younger sister with a raised brow.

Violet looked at Jesse with a look that could pierce through anything."Not like that, dumbass, I mean, is he a good person or somethin'." She swore that Jesse was messin' with her with how he shrugged. She was goin' to slap this man. She didn't care how much older he was.

"He's pretty quiet, hardworking," Jesse began, stoppin' for a moment to relax. "Loves his ma, Kathleen, and little brother, Joseph, to death. He hates his step-father, and between you and me, I can't blame him for that—but other than that, he keeps to himself."

Violet nodded, leaning against a tree and looking up at the blue sky. She watched the clouds go by as the pair waited for Billy to arrive, and she remembered how defeated Billy looked back at the saloon.

She bit the inside of her cheek, thinking about it. She decided to be nice decided to give Billy her winnings from poker to him. She figured it would be a nice 'thanks for savin' my ass' sort of gesture.

When Billy arrived, Violet watched them shoot the targets from a spot on the grassy plains behind them.

She was mesmerized by his focus and draw. How the muscles in his hand flexed when he drew his pistol and fired. She had to admit, it was hot and so was he–but not just physically. Billy was respectful, a gentleman, funny, loyal, and powerful. She knew he'd be a good friend in the long run, so she planned to at least become his friend.

As Jesse and Billy conversed about guns and how to modify them, Violet started to rub her bruise again. It was a reminder. A painful reminder of the man she hated. The one who almost ruined her life and ended her life of innocence.

She laid down in the grass, laying like a starfish, and sighed. 'When I find you, Henry Antrim, I'll kill you.'

After a few minutes, Jesse came over kicking Violet in the side, which earned him a kick to the knee.

"I'm awake, what," She groaned out, sitting up. Jesse rolled his eyes before dropping his sister's hat on her face.

"Goin' piss, entertain Billy," He said, before deeper into the trees to relieve himself as the bathrooms were too far of a walk from their place.

"Hi again, ma'am," Billy greeted, tippin' his hat down to Violet and sitting down in the grass next to her.

She laughed softly and playfully pushed him in his side as she sat up.

"No need to call me ma'am, Billy, I'm perfectly okay with being called Violet."

"But wouldn't you find that disrespectful?" He questioned, taking his hat off.

"Nah. I ain't really fond of being called miss or ma'am. Not after my ex," Violet stated, grabbing her lucky make-shift knife and stabbing the dirt as she looked at Billy. He looked nervous to be talking to a woman around his age. Alone.

"Oh... we'll... what exactly did he do? If you don't mind me asking?"

"Well, the short story is... he popped my cherry before I was ready. He and an old friend of a mine also sort of... controlled and manipulated me to think it was fine despite being 16 he was, I think, maybe mid-to-late 40s. Said it was love, but...it wasn't," She explained, gripping her blade hard before throwing it at a tree down by the targets, and it stuck into the trunk.

Billy was taken aback by the sudden drop of what happened and why she hated her ex so badly. Finding no words to say, Billy hesitantly put a hand on her back and rubbed her back in a comforting manner. Violet had originally shuddered at the touch and had gone to shove him off, but instead... she relaxed. She half-leaned into his touch, finding comfort and warmth from the cold and distant man. Billy didn't speak, but Violet didn't want him to. Most people asked how she could be so stupid or yell at her for being dumb. But Billy offered comfort, and she found solace in it.

As a few minutes passed, Violet suddenly sat up remembering something. "Oh shit, I almost forgot!" Billy looked down at her puzzled as she fished out her winnings from poker. When she finally grabbed the large wad of cash, she pressed it firmly into his rough and calloused hands.

"Here," She said, smiling up at him as the wind blew her curls out of her face.

Billy stared, puzzled. She was giving him her winnings and didn't understand why.

"Why are you giving me your winnings...?" He asked, slowly closing his hand around the wad of cash and coins.

"Cause you saved my ass- besides, I planned to buy you a drink, but my brother gave me a look that said we needed to get out of there now. Figured money would be a better alternative after hearin' about the mining accident," She answered, playfully hitting him in the shoulder as he stared at her in awe.

Billy didn't really understand the whole concept of love at first sight, but he did know one thing; this woman was his soulmate.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Oh my lord, I just saw a thing on Pinterest that said: Of course I cum fast- I'm a busy man. I have places to be.

And first of all- hysterical. 10 out of 10. This man will not be shamed.

Second of all, of course- Here are the Horror Men I think would abandon you after cumming themselves VS The ones that would never leave you high and dry like that (Indented):

Warnings: Orgasm denial, selfish fucking/loving

(Most of) These men in this post:

Animal The Cannibal: If Manny calls on him I bet he would go 😅 Sorryyyyy.

Billy Loomis: He likes the feeling of you cumming around him too much for that. Don't get me wrong- he is a pretty selfish lover. It's just that, part of his pleasure happens to come from yours.

Bo Sinclair: Nahhhhh. It's not that he's wanting to be kind to you- he just thinks it's a mark of a sissy if he can't get his lover to cum for him. It's for bragging rights.

Bubba Sawyer: Yeahh... sorry Y/N. If one of his brothers call on him he will ALWAYS go.

Candyman: Look, its not always!, so don't get me wrong- Daniel is a good lover. I'm sure he is. But at times he just... doesn't have the time 😅

Captain Spaulding: Sorry doll, he's got like 3 insane middle aged children running about not cleaning up their messes and he's gotta get on that shit XD

Chop Top Sawyer: If you've got his attention, which you certainly do if you're engaging in sex with him, then he's all yours. He's all for you.

Chucky Lee Ray: He's full of bullshit but he is also quite busy so... take this as you will.

Dr Suave: Ain't nothin' gonna keep him from the face you're gonna make sweet thing... (*Cough* Sweet talker)

Drayton Sawyer: GENUINLEY REAL BUSY!! He'd stay if he could!! Don't sulk though, he'll get pissy at you.

Freddy Krueger: Damn, you're waking up! Well- Goodluck!~ (This asshole)

Harper Alexander: This man is Buckman's bitch- he literally pimps himself out for him 😅 So... yeah... Maybe you could talk to Buckman? Ask him not to call on Harper during the hours of 5-8pm On Friday Nights please??? 😆

Inkubus: Not his style.

Jack Dante: It depends on where his head is. It's hard to keep him in one place for long- if he's got his head in the clouds, his show is on, or he's got 'work to do', he'll literally just take care of himself and then fuck off. (If you manage to hold his attention though he WILL go until you fall asleep and then be there waiting when you wake up again. Stamina for days, I swear).

Jason Voorhees: The chances are, if you've gotten Jason to engage in... the act!!... then its gonna be all about you, anyway. He might not want to cum. It's in his nature to take care of the people he loves, anyway. So it's kinda the other way around, here... but voluntarily.

Jedidiah Sawyer: Too sweet. Plus, without a family shooing him this way and that anymore, he's suddenly got so much more time on his hands! Haha.

Jerry Dandridge: If he's sleeping with you his full attention is on you, and very little will have to power to stop it.

Kieran Wilcox: I love the idea that this too-cool-for-school, bastard guy- has really bad stamina (: So (: Yeah (:

Leslie Vernon: This asshole 😅 He's like sorry sweetie, I have preparations to do, *Forehead kiss*, love you so much, see ya! (He's being genuine, too. This is not a line because he's being lazy or selfish- He gets tunnel vision something fierce).

Lester Sinclair: I swear he hates leaving you unfulfilled, he really really hates it, but sometimes he just needs a little something to keep him happy before going to see his brothers and he doesn't have time to take care of you. He will when he gets back!! He promises.

Max Grief: He just wouldn't wanna leave you displeased. He wants to make you happy (:

Mayor Buckman: This one genuinly makes me laugh XD This man, oh my lord. Someone will knock on the door and he'll be OFF- forgetting in his eagerness to be do Town Duties that he first has duties to you goddamnit!-

Mental Manny: Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh what a dick. I'm sorry, but a dick appointment with Manny is just that- an appointment. And like any asshole with an appointment book he will decide once he's got what he wanted out of the transaction that oh, sorry, time is up! He has to go preach to some devotees for an hour. Bye sweetheart!~

Michael Myers: You just know he would. He does not care.

Mickey Altieri: Just not a selfish lover. It's equal with him.

Midnight Man: He might think its a game... 😅

Monty Hewitt: Well fuck, who knows what Hoyt might saw off him if he ignores him this time?? Please believe him when he says he wants to stay though, he really fucking does.

Otis B Driftwood: 'I'll go around back and take control, like I always fucken do'- Otis has clearly got a complex for being the Big Man in Charge, yes. And this is part of the reason he will leave you high and dry... the other part though is him being a DICK.

Patrick Bateman: Like Michael, he doesn't care. You can finish up yourself while he gets his keto dinner started.

Pennywise: I feel like with Penny its marathon sex or it's nothin', so yeah you're gonna cum. Do not fear.

Rocco The Clown: No way in hell will anyone ever tear him away from you. Oh, no. He (And I) would like to see them try.

SHERIFF HOYT: BECAUSE HE'S SHERIFF HOYT. HE IS EXACTLY THAT PINTEREST QUOTE.

Stu Macher: Would also genuinely say that 😅 Will answer every beck and call of Billy's and so thinks he's a very busy man. Call him back though and he probably will listen to you. Sorry Billy.

Stuart Lloyd: Okay- this man has probably not had sex for a LONG time- if ever. So yeah- even the muse gets ignored during that time XDD 😅 He~ is~ desperate (:

DBD The Clown: Sometimes he's too tired, which is understandable I suppose, but the asshole part?? He giggles about it. I mean, after that he coughs because he has not taken care of his body, but first he definetly giggles =_=

DBD The Deathslinger: He ain't as young as he once was- you just gotta give him a moment to breath XD Usually. Sometimes he will just smirk at you and leave, though. Cuz he's an EVIL COWBOY.

The Djinn: Not his style- Part 2.

The Man: He just would =_=

The Taxidermist: Like Stuart he is has been very dry for a very long time and he is NOT about to mess up this chance.

Thomas Hewitt: I would say he's the same as Bubba... but Thomas is a little tougher. Unless Luda Mae tried to call him away... you're good. He'll always finish you off before answering anyone else. (And Luda Mae wants grandbabies too much to pull him away XDD )

Vincent Sinclair: Sex is a whole night with him. He will have planned to have the whole evening and through the night without an interruption, so you don't run into any problems like this ^^

Winslow Foxworth Coltrane: Nahhhhhhh. He's likin' what's going on here too much. Not even Otis on cocaine with a gun will separate him from you.

[rainydayathogwarts]

ʀᴏʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪᴄᴇ - ꜱᴛᴇᴠᴇ ʜᴀʀʀɪɴɢᴛᴏɴ

Summary: Steve wants you, but you've got a play thing named Nancy Wheeler who does too. bi!reader Warnings: Love triangle situation but it's not. Not smut but making out? Nancy's a bit of a mean girl towards Steve. wc: 2.1k

You giggle, moving your head to the side to allow Nancy more space to leave kisses on your neck, one hand trailing on your waist as the other helped hold herself up on top of you while you breathed heavily under her "Well go on, what happened next?" She whispers into the crook of your next, her hot breath tickling you. "Nothing happened, I just told him that I already had someone to... fulfil my needs?"

Nancy separates from you, straightening up on top of you to take her shirt off. "Well I'll bet that's the first time someone's declined an offer to be filled up in the back of Billy's car." She leans down, her lips hovering over yours teasingly, only to be interrupted by urgent knocks on her bedroom door.

Mike - of course.

"Nancy! Steve's here!" You perked up at the sound of Steve's name, a hand immediately going up to fix your hair. Steve. What was he doing here? At Nancy's? You straightened up as Nancy got up, pulling her shirt over her head, flashing her an awkward smile when you made eye contact as she moves to unlock the door. "You okay?" She asks, and you nod, unable to tell her about your undying crush on King Steve, because she might have one of her own.

It's only when Steve himself bursts into the room, already rambling, that you put the smile back on your face. Upon seeing you, he stops talking, his mouth gaping slightly as he awkwardly raises a hand to greet you. "Oh, hey y/n. I- I didn't notice your car outside?" You nod, pursing your lips, suspicious as to why he'd so abruptly stopped talking. Were they hiding something?

Nevertheless, you shake your head. "No, Nancy picked me up." Steve nods slowly. Nancy picked you up? He turns to look at her and she licks her lips, a smirk forming on her face, raising her eyebrows slightly as if questioning him. His heart beats faster and all of a sudden, he can hear it in his ears, pounding the focus out of him. Does Nancy know he likes you? Steve's face flushes. Shit. Of course she does.

You look away. They were clearly flirting. If Nancy was into him, she could have just said... But then, you could have too. "Um, I'm going to go!" You state. "I'll walk, it's not far Nance." You continue, noticing her confusion, and sling your bag over your shoulder with your head down as you walk out her door.

"You like her."

"What!?"

"Y/N. I saw that look you gave her. You like her"

"Nance no I don't even-shut up!"

Nancy smirks, leaning back on her dresser. "I'm just saying. It's a shame. I heard she's sleeping with someone anyway." Steve's hot red blush dies out, all colour in his face draining. "She is?" But all Nancy gives him is a nod.

"I think she's really into this guy too. Or girl. She wouldn't tell me how big he is so I doubt it's a dude. I'm guessing she's pretty into them since people don't know. Probably doesn't want to ruin whatever they have with people finding out and stuff."

Nancy doesn't bother hiding her smile when she sees the disappointment and doubt on Steve's face, the wheels turning as he tried to piece together why you would be with a girl. Or was the look on his sadness? But she couldn't care less, because at that moment, whatever side of the dice Steve landed on, she still had the advantage in the game. "Well, what do you want? You are here for a reason aren't you?"

"Um yeah, no. Wait, let me remember-Wait she likes girls?"

Downstairs, you pulled your arms through the holes in your jacket, sighing as you started to make your way home. You wouldn't think about it for now. No you wouldn't. You trusted Nancy and she trusted you, that's what made your little deal work. You both knew that if something started up with someone else, whatever this was would end. And for now, your romantic life wasn't necessarily blooming, no matter how big your stupid crush on Steve was.

You'd still be able to see him given that you worked in Starcourt mall in a small boutique across from Scoops Ahoy, so you'd know if any of the feelings you held for him were reciprocated. And as much as you hated to admit it, that's what you were thinking of as Nancy drove you to the busy mall the next morning, her hand on your thigh.

"Hey there's still time until your shift starts... Meet me in the backseat?" You giggled, climbing over the armrest as Nancy opened her door, taking the easy way to the back, promptly landing herself on top of you yet again. She grinned, both hands cupping your jaw as her body pressed roughly against yours, her lips moving softly against yours.

Steve groaned, hand fiddling with his car keys to lock his car, the other tightly clutching his warm coffee. He shoved his keys in his pocked, the now unoccupied hand coming up to brush through his famously known hair. It was too early for this, anyone in their right mind new that. No one went to an ice cream shop at 9 in the morning unless they're recovering from a rough night. He makes his way up to the entrance of the mall and that's when he sees it.

You. Her.

You and her. Together.

More specifically, you and her making out in the back of her car. He really thought that was Billy's thing more than hers. He feels the scorching hot coffee running down his hand and he loosens his grip on the cardboard cup to stop the overflow.

He could see your smile, the slight movement of your hands on Nancy's hips, pushing her down onto you. He could see the very confident way Nancy pulled you deeper into the kiss, briefly pulling away to kiss your neck. He could see the way you moved your neck, flicking your hand over your shoulder to allow her more space. He could see the way you were so clearly enjoying every little moment with the woman who had told him yesterday that you were seeing someone. That she thinks you had caught feelings for. And watching you, he thinks so too.

"What the fuck?" Steve drops his coffee in shock, spinning around to spot Robin behind him, her jaw slack, eyes glued to the scene in front of them. "Y/N likes girls?" She questions Steve who knows little more than she does about the situation. "If I knew that I would have gone for her a long time ago."

In the shop, with their stupid hats, Steve and Robin both stand out front, serving the customers, but mostly catching Robin up on what had happened the past two days. "What a lying, manipulative, cheating scumb-" "Robin! Look." They put on fake smiles as the famous Mike Wheeler comes strolling in with his little clan. "Oi, hey Wheeler!" Robin starts, hesitantly looking at Steve. "Is your sister seeing anyone? Because I heard from a girl that she might be with this heartthrob person."

Mike looks up from the display of flavours, "No."

"BUT-" Cuts in Dustin, as enthusiastic as always "We have this theory that she and her really hot friend Y/N are a little too close, if you know what I mean."

"Which is weird," continues Will, "because we could have sworn that she was with Billy Hargrove like a week ago. Or at least, that's what we heard."

"But it's completely plausible that they're not together because we know Y/N loves making her relationships public. Remember her and Archie?" Lucas makes a face of disgust as he takes them back to the year before and Steve can briefly relate to the disgust, remembering Y/N and her possessive ex-boyfriend Archie who made it a point for them to let everyone know they were together.

"Oh, well thanks for the gossip guys." Steve scoffs, pointing a finger at them to Robin and chuckling, counting the cash they gave him as Robin handled their orders. "You think she'd go out with me?" Will perks up again, shoulders rounding as the boys start laughing, an argument over who would win you over starting up between them.

Steve shrugs, looking at Robin, whose eyes immediately go wide and she straightens up, loudly 'whispering' "Steve! She's here! She's here! Do you think Nancy lied to her do you think- Hey Y/N!" Steve's head turns to you so quickly his neck might have snapped in the process, but he grins at you, who surprisingly returns the favour.

Steve stutters while taking your order and giving you your change as he tries to make small talk, which very much fails him. You giggle, thanking him and walking to a table near the entrance, so he takes a deep breath and follows you to your seat.

You don't know if you should bring anything up to him, or attempt in striking up a conversation with him before leaving. Maybe you could ask what he needed from Nance? No, it was none of your business. You could ask if he's seeing anyone, but that would be too obvious.

"Hey, do you mind if I join you?" You look up from your seat, smiling when you see Steve, taking his sailor hat off and running a hand through his well-tamed hair. You shake your head, gesturing to the empty seat in front of you, and he gladly sits down.

"Um how, I heard you're- uh." You let Steve sit there, opening and closing his mouth like a fish, an eyebrow raised. "Sorry, I don't want to come on too strongly." He smiles sheepishly.

"Out with it, what do you want?" You reply jokingly, but what he says next makes your heart drop.

"I heard you're with Nancy."

"Steve... Nancy's a girl." But he only nods to what you have to say.

"Okay, I saw you guys in the parking lot this morning. And when I was at her's yesterday she said you were seeing someone that you were really into and-"

"Steve what?" You scoot your chair closer to his, leaning in so you could speak in a whisper and nothing louder. "Look, Nancy and I are just sleeping with each other, nothing else. I don't know why she would tell you that. Please don't tell anyone! I'm not ready for people to know I'm into girls because then guys will back off and I don't want them to because I like guys and they're hot and-"

"You do?" Your nervous ranting stops at that and you look at Steve, looking at him with disgust "What? Are you saying I can't like both girls and guys?"

Steve's face goes white and he starts frantically shaking his head, his mouth moving without any words coming out. "NO! No shit. I didn't mean for it to come out that way, I just mean- Will you go out with me!?" Robin's head all the way from the counter snaps in your direction as his voice squeaks as does everyone else's in the ice cream shop.

"I mean. You like guys, I'm a guy. And I like you, and for a moment I'd like to think that you might like me too since Nancy was apparently telling me a load of bullshit." You nod apprehensively, trying to take in the information he just gave you without going bright red, even though you could feel your face heating up.

You liked him. He liked you.

"I'd like to go out with you. Because, even though 12 hours ago I thought you and Nancy were flirting in front of me, which I hated her for, I have to admit that I like you too. Also, I need to stop coming for ice cream at 12 o'clock just so that I can have an excuse to see you."

You both chuckle and a moment of awkward silence settles down as you look down, starting to pick at your nails. "Um so do I pick you up tomorrow night or should I give you a day or two to tell Nancy?" He asks and you look up again, only for the colour to immediately leave your face when you make eye contact with the figure that's standing up behind your date. No wonder Robin hadn't made a noise in a while.

"Tell Nancy what?"

[dadsbongos]

he's in a band

12.8 K words

warnings - female reader, you are specified to have a step-father and step-brother, the dark crystal is referenced especially towards the end, sorry if i tagged you and you didn't like it i'm just that kid that asks their mom for attention just to fail a back flip

summary - You and Eddie are forced to team up and make him into Snowflake King material so that you can beat Jason Carver in a bet (for fifty bucks and the success of Lucas Sinclair’s high school basketball career).

You’re certain that if Eddie were just a little less forward about his interests, he’d be popular. It’s fucked up, certainly, but it’s also nothing new. Stacey Bennett pretends she doesn’t like science fiction or comics, Chrissy Cunningham acts like she doesn’t go bird-watching every weekend, and Trin Saelim purposefully misidentifies every actor in the Star Wars trilogy.

Eddie has the charisma and the looks and the hair for 1,000 jocks and you just know that with the right nudging, he’d have this school eating out of the palm of his hand. And that’s what you think of as you watch him speak with his freshmen worshippers at a level of respect and kindness you don’t often see between peers of the same age.

“Hey, creeper,” Chrissy bumps her shoulder into yours, “What’re you doing starin’ at him, huh?”

Stacey and Trin snap around to where you stare and you so despise their eagerness.

“Nothing,” you lie, then decide against it, “Munson- Eddie Munson, he could be popular. I think.”

Immediately, there’s the overtly mocking, painfully cynical laughter that peels from Jason. None of you can quite shake him despite the fact Chrissy dumped him eons (months) ago, but also - none of you can quite gather the courage to speak up against him or his friends.

“Right, the freak could be popular,” Jason turns to Patrick McKinney in a histrionic ‘look at this guy’ way, “That fucker couldn’t win Snowflake King, and Fred Benson won Baron sophomore year.”

“Eddie Munson could win Snowflake King and be more popular than you if given the proper push,” you narrow your gaze at him, “And I’ll put money on that,” when Jason doesn’t take the bait, you continue, “He’s in a band, he’s got charisma!”

“You know what?” Jason extends an arm across the table, a hand straight out and brows raised - challenging you, “I’ll take that.”

“Alright,” you catch his hand with yours, squeezing, “but, you, Patrick, and Andy can’t run against him, and if he wins then I get fifty bucks and Lucas Sinclair has to be promoted to actually playing on the court next season.”

Jason takes in the conditions, nodding, “He loses, I get fifty bucks and Lily Pham has to go on a date with me.”

Times really have been rough since Chrissy left if he’s this desperate, you suppose.

Jason squeezes your hand tighter, the sides begin to ache and your fingertips go numb from his force, but you clench his hand right back before storming off to the most avoided lunch table since Billy McFeely puked on the right column’s middle bench.

As you approach the Hellfire table, the freshmen stare and you feel their judgments linger. With scorching gazes and iced tongues, they observe as though you’re a small speck under their microscope. Eddie’s gaze is the hottest of them all, has been since you first met the so-called Satanist from Forest Hills.

“Munson,” you smile saccharine sweet though, leaning onto the sticky, off-white table by your elbows, “I’ve got a proposal for you.”

“Ah, sweet princess,” Eddie tilts back, hooking his hands behind his head, “how I love our talks.”

You two have spoken a mere handful of times, at best. You’re pretty sure that if you weren’t best friends with the cheerleader trifecta then he wouldn’t even know your name. Though, to be fair, if he wasn’t the renowned freak then there was zero shot you would know his. It’s like how two celebrities could speak about one another in an interview without ever having actually met the other.

Eddie would be Vincent Prince only in The Fly and only post-transformation.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you smack his arm, “Listen. You need to win Snowflake King lest we both be subjected to the humiliation of Jason ‘pigskin hero’ Carver proving us wrong.”

That makes the other boys actually look at you, rather than the ill-wrought attempts to pretend they didn’t care.

“What’s in it for me?”

“Dude,” Dustin pipes up from beside you, leaning over and brushing against your arm in a move that you’re certain he’d never pull under normal circumstances. His eyes are wide and brows high, “take the deal!”

Mike nods eagerly, “If you win, maybe people will stop shoving us into lockers.”

“People actually do that?” you grimace.

Will Byers nods, looking a little more kicked-puppy than human-boy, “Swirlies are real, too.”

“Alright, then,” you click your tongue and look back to Eddie, visibly already working the idea in his head, “You win Snowflake King and nobody will touch your kitten litter,” you point across the table to where a collection of upperclassmen in Hellfire shirts sit, “or your older cats. And I’ll split the fifty Jason’s forking up.”

“Twenty-five, twenty-five?” Eddie tilts his head, tone lilting.

“No shot. Forty, ten.”

“For all the work I’d be putting in to win?” he mocks hurt and leans forward, copying you and settling on his elbows. Your noses are mere inches apart and it feels like the least deadly stand-off is about to commence, “How about thirty, twenty?”

You ‘hmph’. Earnestly about to call the whole thing off if this is how he’s going to be to work with, when you hear sick witch cackles from Jason Carver and his jesters. You don’t have to turn to know that they’re pointing as they laugh, their delight thickens as your patience thins.

“Fine,” you hold out the hand Jason didn’t maim, “but you get the twenty.”

Eddie doesn’t look at you. His gaze flickers straight over the doughy pulls of his dearest sidekicks. Companions more like, he’d say. You don’t know the guy extremely well, but you’ve seen the way he intimidates and shoves people away when it comes to his friends. It’d be sweet if it weren’t, you know, Eddie Munson.

“I’ll take the twenty,” he takes your hand and shakes, firm but not so evil as Jason’s, “And you edit my papers for the rest of the semester.”

“Unfair to add that while we’re already shaking,” he still hasn’t let go of your hand, but you haven’t dropped his either.

“I know, right?” he smiles right at you this time, not entirely genuine but not so twisted into cynicism to be lost, “Come by the theater room at four, my little Satan club should be done by then, ‘kay?”

“Sure,” you rip your hand from his now, swiftly carding between the packed tables and back to yours.

Dustin, Mike, and Will watch you as you go - Will is the first to return, brows furrowed at Eddie, “Hey, doesn’t Hellfire start at four?”

Eddie hums, nods, and tosses up his hands as though he’d forgotten, “I guess it does!”

...

When you walk in, it's as though you’ve entered a meeting in the damn White House.

Eight heads swivel directly toward the heavy door you creak open as soon as you enter - seven pairs of lit, wide eyes aim at you like war machines. Lucas waves shyly and you return it.

“Hi?” you step into the cold, stiff room and jump when the door slams on its stopper behind you.

Eddie, from the head of the table, puts a finger up to his lips - lips that stretch wide with glee as he loudly “shhh!”s you.

The heads turn back to their dreaded Dungeon Master, and you’re suddenly left in the dust of forgotten chip crumbs that crack when you step forward. A boy in red flannel and rosy cheeks glares like you’ve killed his mother and it stops you with the full force Medusa was rumored to have. You haven’t felt so unwelcomed since accidentally walking into the teachers’ lounge.

“And out from that rusty, chipped, half-hung gate crawls a hideous, toothy, bloody-nailed beast,” you would’ve assumed it was typical Dweebs & Dorks talk for a campaign if Eddie hadn’t been staring at you the entire time he said it.

But he’s the literal crux of your plan, so what is there to do except bite the bullet and huff your way to an abandoned table pushed straight into the wall? You plop yourself onto the floral-engraved wood and pull out the statistics homework due tomorrow. Typically, you wait until you’re actually home, but with however many hours to kill left you’ll make an exception.

Eddie, on the other hand, is having the time of his life forcing you to wait on his little “nerd games”.

Eddie hates you. He hates your manicured nails. He hates your 1970s dresses. He hates the rusted silver ring from middle school on your finger. He hates you.

He hates you because you’re popular and rich and don’t have to work the way that he does, and as much as he wants to go against the grain and never judge a person before he meets them - he isn’t that mature. He’s angry that you don’t have to worry about your water going out in the height of July heat. He’s bitter about the fact he had to work three jobs over his freshman year and you haven’t so much as clocked in for a part-time gig.

So, really, irritating you like this is the least he can do.

And besides, it isn’t like you particularly care for Eddie “the freak” Munson. Not his reputation, not his music, not his tattoos, not his obnoxious hair or laugh or way he speaks. None of it.

...

“It’s way too late to stay here, you have to come over so we can discuss the plans.”

Eddie rolls his eyes as you walk in front of him, out the double doors, and into the (mostly) barren student parking lot.

“Alright,” he calls after you, wrangling his keys from the belt loop they hang off, “but I want a meal and to meet your parents.”

“Why in God’s name would you ever wanna meet my parents?” you snicker when he doesn’t use his infamous gunfire wit to respond immediately, “Well, I guess that’s not fair - I know you haven’t heard of the big guy upstairs.”

“The big guy upstairs hates masturbation and people of the same sex fucking, I don’t think he’s quite the role model you want, dolly.”

You swat his arm, “I never said he was my role model, and don’t call me ‘dolly’.”

“But you’re so pretty and sweet,” he pouts, turning to walk back towards his van, “like a little doll.”

You groan and sigh your way into the shredded, puffing leather of Eddie’s passenger seat. You usually save judgments of people’s cars to the jocks that mouth-breathe around you and your friends, but the sheer amount of fast food wrappers and soda cans that orchestra with every shift of your foot seem to justify it.

Eddie picks out the morph of disgust on your face as soon as it appears, “What?” he grins like he’s having fun, “Never been in a guy’s front seat?”

You glare through your peripherals, crossing your arms tightly, “I’ll kill you for that.”

You’d figuratively kill him for less.

“I just don’t like the sound of wrappers- “ you squeeze your hands mid-air as if that portrays anything, “crinkling and making noise.”

“Well, do you happen to like the sound of fucking awesome guitar solos and screaming?”

Your eyes stick to his hand on the stereo's volume dial, “Not particularly.”

“Great,” he turns the dial almost entirely to the right.

You cover your ears, just to really rub it in how you detest his music, “You, Munson, are absolutely insufferable!”

He can barely hear you over the music, but he nods excitedly - curls bouncing, “Yeah! Totally!”

The van bounces and rattles and you think you hear a tire pop every few minutes as Eddie speeds through the streets of Hawkins to your house.

When Eddie steps into the plush beige carpet and yellow floral wallpaper of your cutesy 1970s home, he thinks that bubbling hatred solidifies. At least a little bit. A nicer TV than any that he’s ever seen is settled on a polished, mahogany stand in front of your family’s white couch.

Susan Harris’ Golden Girls is playing and three smiley, sweatered figures lounge about the cushions.

“Take off your shoes at the door,” you very specifically point to a small shelf of sneakers and boots and flats and heels, but Eddie just works off his mud-caked kicks on the carpet and leaves them there. Slightly to the side, so that if somebody tripped over them he could claim he tried to move them.

Your step-brother, a shitheaded eight-year-old you’d live and die for, doesn’t bother hiding the way he sneers while looking Eddie head to toe, “Did you bring home a criminal?”

Your mother swats his shoulder and Eddie can see the resemblance between you two.

If it were any high schooler, then Eddie would be a little more reactive, but this is an actual kid. He can’t bring himself to be mean to a child, so he just laughs and waves off your mother’s concern, “It’s fine, I get that a lot.”

“Well now, that’s a shame,” your stepdad shakes his head in a way you usually see from dads in movies. He sips the beer your biological dad always said he hated and points at the jean jacket adorning Eddie’s torso, “Nice patch, kid.”

Eddie follows the gesture, finding the DIO patch Wayne taught him to embroider for his seventeenth birthday. He’s surprised that your suburban step-dad with the pretty wife and popular step-daughter and snarky son knows what DIO is.

“Didn’t know you knew what DIO is,” Eddie moves into the living room, like a predator encroaching your territory.

You take the time to settle your shoes in their proper slots, and you even move Eddie’s sneakers to an empty spot (one at the very bottom).

“Just ‘cuz I got one foot in the grave doesn’t mean I’m clueless.”

You can hardly stop yourself before you’re snapping, “Stop saying you have a foot in the grave!”

He just chuckles and your mom rolls her eyes. You stroll straight past them and into the ugly mint kitchen your mom insisted on, where a large, water-speckled and soup-drool-stained pot lays on a cooled burner. Like a stray puppy, Eddie follows.

“You know what?” Eddie leans into the counter, head tilting into the white dips and lines of your fridge.

When he fails to continue on his own, you quirk a brow and turn the burner on, “What?”

“I was not expecting your family to be actually decent,” he murmurs, staring into the distance as if revealing a great truth.

“Even my step-brother?”

“Even.”

You shrug off the way his tattoos and veins reflect into your chest - past your ribs and breastplate and through the heart. It’s embarrassing. So you move on.

“My mom was a flower child in the 60s and 70s, so she gets counterculture.”

“And the old man?”

“Been taking care of other people since before he even got a driver’s license, so he’s seen worse shit than a dork that pretends to be intimidating.”

“Oh, am I- “ he points at himself, “am I the dork?”

Before you get the chance to reply, your very dear and precious shithead step-brother runs in. Wondering eyes stare up at you and Eddie, flipping back and forth until they settle on your metalhead guest, “Do you wanna see my room?”

Eddie presses his lips, then grins and nods curtly before pushing himself off the fridge, “Of course, little man.”

Your brother runs faster than Eddie does, but Eddie’s footfalls are nearly millions of times louder when he goes up those rickety stairs yet to be replaced.

You lean out of the coffee bean tinted doorway and shout after Eddie, “Don’t try and convert him to that Satanism shit!”

A quick, simple, “hey!” from your mother follows your outburst and Eddie pops into view long enough to stick his tongue out at you.

Eddie Munson is criminally overconfident and part of you detests that. Another part of you, a growing part perhaps, admires that in him - the ability to be himself even though everyone hates him. He’s a symbol to the geeks and a terror to the general public.

To you, he’s the monster about to gorge himself on homemade soup for the sake of fifty bucks, freshmen safety, and edited English papers.

How stupid.

...

When you go up the stairs and down that creaky floorboard hallway, Eddie is already in the final stretch of a tic-tac-toe game - you hear his win at the doorway when he cackles as your brother whines.

“Wisdom comes with age, big guy.”

Funny way of saying he’s dumb.

But your brother accepts it, weirdly enough - the only reason he got genuinely upset was because you had to drag Eddie away. Funny ways for a funny kid, you suppose.

“Why do you think I have all this untapped potential?”

You don’t hear Eddie’s question, too focused on the sloppy way that he lets soup dribble on his lips. It isn’t until he repeats himself that you take notice, “Hm?”

Eddie tilts his head and winks, “I know I’m hot, baby, but try listening when I talk, yeah?”

“Shut up, you’re a mess,” you snap a napkin from your mom’s pink-stained wooden holder and wave it in front of his face, “Ever used a spoon before, or am I popping your utensil cherry?”

“You think you’re hilarious,” Eddie steals the napkin, wiping down his lips and chin, “I said, ‘why do you think I have potential?’”

Your parents have gone up to bed, the living room lights turned out and long shadows cast along the checkerboard tile by lemon fluorescents. The looping shadows of Eddie’s hair against his rosy face are even worse.

The best course of action is to pretend you haven’t been pondering that exact question just to justify why he’s in your head so often.

“You have this, like, draw. I dunno. You smile like you have something important to say, even if nobody is listening. I think that’s really important. And you’re kinda pretty, but that’s the only time I’ll say it so don’t let it get to your head.”

“Too late, that’s all I’m gonna be thinking about now. You think I’m the hottest guy in Hawkins.”

“I never said that.”

“Well, if I said you’re the hottest girl in Hawkins, would you admit that’s what you meant?”

You freeze. It feels childish to be so caught off guard by someone like Eddie Munson. No, even worse because it was Eddie Munson. Once the shock washes away, though, you abandon your dumbfounded gape and twist up your lips like the cat that ate the canary. You gobble up all tells of naivety and swallow them, talons and teeth that would’ve frightened anybody but Eddie. He was borne of talons and teeth.

You don’t blow the steaming spoonful of your soup before you eat it, though, and that does frighten him.

What else frightens him, is the rolling chalkboard you sit him in front of while he desperately tries not to fall back into your marshmallow bedspread.

“The tenets,” you slap the powdered chalkboard and kick at Eddie’s shoe to make sure he’s paying attention, “of popularity. Also known as - the four-step plan to make you Snowflake King material.”

Eddie follows your manicured finger to a big, circled ‘1’.

“Don’t stand out - this includes your insane personality, your nutty clothes, and your dingbat rings,” your finger drops to a similarly styled ‘2’, “Get good grades. Jason should be enough to say you don’t have to be perfect, but if Coach G would bench you, then you’re out,” Eddie goes to gag, but you silence him with a glare before he gets the chance, “Three: get a hot date.”

Eddie drops his head to one shoulder, squishing his lips to show you an upcoming protest, so you simply cross your arms and wait, “Why don’t you just be my ‘hot date’? Gross phrasing, by the way,” he points right at your eggshell white bookcase, “Maybe open those feminist theory books I see on your shelf.”

“Shut up,” you take a fire engine red copy of Betty Friedan’s The Feminine Mystique and chuck it at his head, easily caught in one of his hands, “It’s too obvious if I do it. We have to find somebody else willing to go out with you. That one’s gonna take work,” you draw an imaginary line beneath point four, “Mystery.”

“Hell does that mean?” he cracks open The Feminine Mystique, seemingly reading from it until you snag the copy from his hands.

“Pay attention. And you’ll see, just listen.”

“Alright,” he throws his arms wide, smiling thin, “so explain. What’s the point of these?”

“To make you popular, like I said, dipshit,” you return the book to its shelf, matching Eddie’s poorly veiled vexation, “If you keep going at the rate you are now with a terminal case of oneirataxia, we won’t get anywhere. So, we’re gonna start employing these.”

“Alright, we’re basically just changing everything about me and hoping it works out?”

“Mhm. Yeah. Just for now,” you step around your wheeled chalkboard to stand directly in front of Eddie, “And the first thing we’re gonna start with is,” you clap your hands and grin-

Don’t Stand Out.

Your mother raised both brows when you told her that Eddie was picking you up for school in the morning, but it was absolutely vital that you ensure he actually put on the clothes you made him take home. Your ex left a plain white T-shirt, burgundy letterman jacket, and simple jeans during an open-door-policy’d sleepover and Eddie dry-heaved at the very sight of such a pile.

You dry-heaved when he was sat beside you in his rustbox on wheels in the letterman jacket, shirt, and black jeans.

“I thought I gave you blue.”

“You did, and I decided it looked weird.”

Your eyes scale him from head to seat, “You look weird anyway.”

“Thank you, delicate princess.”

By the time you and Eddie have parking in the student lot, you’ve pinpointed what it was that made Eddie more unsettling than usual.

“Take off the jacket.”

He nearly chokes on the air between his ribs, “What?”

“The jacket, hair-for-brains,” you pluck at the fitting material, “it makes you look weird.”

“You know,” he unbuckles and shucks forward in his seat to tug off the offending thing, “I was thinking that exact thing.”

Eddie’s tattoos come to life in the sun slivers that beam through his cracked windows. A demon puppeteered by the undead, two dice rolling on the inside of his wrist, and an old faded stick-and-poke heart on the side of his middle finger - to name a few. It’s weird.

Is it weird?

It is, right?

How speechless and dim it seems to render you when his red-sprung, vein-flicked, tender hands bunch up the letterman and throw it into his backseat. It’s all so weird.

You rush out, slamming his scratched door and rushing to the side doors of Hawkins High only to realize when going to tighten the straps, that you’ve forgotten your bag in that scratched van.

Turning, you huff, “Shit!”

“Aw, poor thing,” Eddie, ever the sweet savior, dangles your backpack from two fingers as he waltzes your way, “What would you do without me?”

“Be studying for my bio final,” you take the bag and swat Eddie off when he tries helping your arm through one of the loops, “Okay, remember- don’t bring up your freak stuff so much today. We’re starting off on a new foot, Munson!”

“I know, baby, I know,” he pats your shoulder just a tad too hard, then, suddenly, his lips fly to your cheek, and cherry ripe softness presses a kiss to the skin there, “Thanks for the threads!”

A wolf whistles from behind you as Eddie prances into the building, waggling his fingers at a few staring jocks.

A lithe arm slithers over your shoulders and silky black hair flutters into view, Trin raises a brow at you, “What was that?”

Chrissy and Stacey bounce onto the scene in tandem, the prior speaking first, “Yeah, getting all buddy-buddy with Eddie, huh?”

Stacey leans forward, beaming with perfect pearly teeth, “You two make an adorable pair, ya know?”

“Shush,” you can’t block out their teasings, especially as Trin insists on hanging off your side and smushing lipstick-stained whispers into your ears about how exposed and eye-catching Eddie’s tattoos are. As if you don’t know.

Chrissy and Stacey giggle at your apparent agony as you pass Eddie and his gaggle of goons. All of whom are similarly teasing him for the aesthetic shift.

“Watch your mouths, I’m still in charge of the campaigns,” Eddie snaps, glaring rather lightheartedly at Dustin, Mike, and Will.

Dustin squints, disbelieving, at the outfit his friend had squeezed into, “This isn’t you, Eddie. I’m worried.”

“If this is for the bet, I’m not sure it’ll work,” Mike agrees, leaning slightly into Will’s side, “You still look like you.”

“Just a teeny bit off,” Will smiles slightly, nothing but assiduous.

A girl of yellow cardigan and brown plaid skirt pauses before the group, eyes shameless as they crawl Eddie’s tattooed frame free of its usual baggy attire. She smiles and bunches her shoulders, “Lookin’ good, Munson.”

“You too, sweetness,” Eddie winks.

Mike’s jaw drops flat as the girl scutters off, “Who was that?”

“No clue,” Eddie follows her with his gaze, “I think we have econ together. Maybe.”

“Well, I guess this bet will work perfectly fine, then,” Will muses.

You watch from Chrissy’s locker. A technical success that still burns like the vilest of cough syrup as it goes down.

Eddie, despite the compliment, searches for you as soon as the girl is officially gone. His face sings the sonnet of a boy waiting impatiently for approval, so you eagerly hand it over with a nod and grin.

Good job, you mouth and Trin giggles at your expense.

“And when I finally blend in with the rest of you?”

He folds his arms and twirls a lock of hair around his fingers, sheepish is a new look on him. He’s jabbed in the ribs by Dustin and you’re grabbed away for AP biology by Trin and Stacey.

“Then, we get to something that actually might benefit you. We have to get you some- “

Good Grades.

Ms. O’Donnell is certified in creating pain-in-the-ass tests. Forty-five multiple choice and two free response questions in fifty-five minutes happen to be one of those pains in said ass. As far as you’re concerned, the only bright side to semester exams like this is the seat changes beforehand - and the only bright side to this seat change is that you now sit next to Eddie Munson.

You finish with ten minutes left of class and find yourself entirely unable to resist how you immediately look over to Eddie. You two have studied for weeks in preparation for this, most of which was you just grilling him over raw flames about both minute and exaggerated details in Hamlet.

Not that William Shakespeare was usually anything other than ham-fisted in his works.

Eddie continues to struggle.

You can’t say you’re extraordinarily surprised, Eddie was a serial fidgeter and - no matter how much effort you both put in - was usually useless in recalling information. Not that he didn’t try, typically it was as simple as forgetting. Any which way you put it, Eddie wasn’t failing his classes on purpose. Not at all.

So to watch him violently scratch at the side of his head with the eraser tip of a pencil is painful. Both from phantom sensation and knowing how much he genuinely struggles with classes.

So you reach into your English folder for a stray piece of loose leaf, tearing off a quarter and numbering to forty-seven.

Eddie feels helpless. He’s reread the same question, number fifteen, for what seems like centuries, and yet he’s nowhere closer to actually getting that higher grade you were pushing him for. With someone else depending on him, there’s a new pressure.

Usually, when he’s only disappointing Wayne, it’s a regular soul-crushing experience that’s smoothed over by the fact that Wayne doesn’t prize academics the way he does a “good man”. Now, though, with you - there’s a lack of familiarity that leaves room for the overwhelming sensation he’ll be stabbing someone in the back.

Or through the heart?

Sharp lead jabs the exposed flesh of his arm. Right under the navy blue polo you’d literally strong-armed him to put on this morning. Eddie flinches back, retching his arm from the faint sting. You hold out the pencil, folding your hand in a way that has to be uncomfortable.

He pulls up his own pencil, glaring like you’re a moron.

When you harshly stick him with the lead again, he rips the wood from your hand and a folded piece of paper flutters to his dick-graffiti’d desk.

This time, as his eyes meet yours, you glare at him like he’s a moron. Good God, does he feel like it now, too.

Unscrambling the tightly wound pot of gold, Eddie checks his first fifteen answers and is - though he’d never admit it - overjoyed at the fact that they all match with the ones you have written down. The detail seems small to most, but progress is progress and Eddie can barely believe he’s actually able to understand the connection between question and answer for the remaining test questions.

After class, you wait on linoleum that shines under sickly tube lights for Eddie to walk out with his jingling keys and skunky black lunchbox and torn, weathered, black backpack.

“I should say, I intentionally put a couple wrong answers on there. So she doesn’t assume you cheated,” you pat his shoulder, preparing to walk away when Eddie takes your hand.

It’s warm.

You don’t know why it matters.

“Any of the first fifteen?”

Your brows knit, palpable confusion, “No.”

“Dope,” Eddie takes your bag and throws it over one of his shoulders despite your huffs, “Where to, sweetness?”

Fighting Eddie is pointless, especially on menial tasks such as carrying your backpack to a class. A class on the opposite side of campus from his, might you add.

“AP stats,” you point loosely, as if the class is actually anywhere within this hall, “You know, for extra credit, Mr. Abrahms - the stats teacher - has a band and if you go to a show, Ms. O’Donnell slaps on some bonus points to quizzes and tests, but not book reports.”

“Right, and why does she do that?”

He holds the door to the math sector of Hawkins High, filled with posters advertising the wonders of division and variables and dividing to find variables. For a laugh, he pretends to drop it when you walk through, only giggling as you lour.

“They’re married.”

“No fucking way.”

“Way.”

“Well,” he follows you down the hall, past lightbulbs that short and flicker and mud-stained tile, “I’ll only go if you come with, princess.”

“I’d love to, as long as you don’t talk shit about how it isn’t metal,” you give a pointed stare when he guffaws, slinging over your bag all while playing innocent.

“No promises,” he sings, slamming the door to AP stats behind you.

“And after we get your grades up, we- “

“Well, hold on. We should probably do something that’s actually for me, right?” he removes the leather jacket hung over his shoulders, slowly as though this is some twisted rom-com produced by John Hughes, “I think I need a little thanks for going along with this.”

Your eyes roll almost on their own, “We already discussed payments, Munson.”

“Yeah, but how about something on top of that? Something a little more fun.”

“Ew.”

Get a Date Corroded Coffin Concert.

“I’m serious, honey, I see all about these things on the news - local and national, and you need to stay safe. And if I so much as smell a little alcohol on your breath, you’re grounded until,” your mother pauses, mouth opening and closing as she flounders, “Until I’m dead. So. Be safe and smart.”

“Yeah, Mom, I know,” you climb out of her car and shut the door, but before you’re released, the window slides down.

“Keep a good head on your shoulders,” she smiles, eyes moving past you and towards The Hideout. She gasps and pouts, tone immediately drawling up from the scolding it had been the entire drive here, “Is that your Eddie? Oh, he’s waiting,” she waves you aside and calls, “Hi, Eddie!”

“Mom- !” heat rushes your cheeks and you flip Eddie off from the hip, just out of view from your mother when he hyena giggles, “I’ll see you later.”

“Bye, honey,” she waves out the window, “Bye, Eddie!”

“Bye,” he practically sings as you stomp up to the stained metal door, “I didn’t think Mommy would be dropping you off; where’s your sack lunch, Mary-Sue?”

“Well, I didn’t think you’d be waiting so patiently for me,” you stretch to hold a hand up, pinched as though holding a treat, “Good boy!”

Eddie knocks his hip with yours so hard that you almost fold over sideways, “You wouldn’t have been let in without a fake ID otherwise, sweetpea. Sadly your reign on the population’s feeble minds stops here.”

He holds the door for you and you terribly despise the way it makes your chest thump, so you poke with a forked tongue instead, “Must’ve been mega important for you that I’m here, then.”

But Eddie is typical in that he doesn’t bite. Not in the way you want him to anyway, “Well, duh. How could I not foam at the mouth having you, princess of Hawkins High, at my little show?”

And despite your lack of involvement in the metal scene, and despite how much you wanted it to suck more than your neighbor’s hyper-speed and hyper-light vacuum, the show is good. You swear to God he even winks at you during the third song.

Following a call to your mom on the bright red bar phone, you wait outside with Eddie while his friends pack up.

The moon night is in full swing, a pale face among the stars. Thin purple and black clouds ribbon over the spectacle of craters.

“I really like the moon,” Eddie is a loudmouth at best and sporadic at worst, but something about his timber entrances you, “it reminds me of my mom.”

You hate when he tries to be mystic and poetic.

“Is she nice?”

“She’s dead,” Eddie laughs, but it feels like he’s at gunpoint, “She was nice. She told me once that whenever I feel alone, she’s just one look up away,” he sniffles and that’s when you see a spring of fresh tears, desperate to cling at his waterline, “This is nice. I don’t usually get to talk about stuff like that.”

“It’s nothing, Munson,” you huddle just a little closer, and if he asks you’ll say it was the cold Hawkins’ night. Winter is rough these days, you know, “I’m glad you can get it out.”

He digs deep into the pocket of his jeans and plucks free a pack of cigarettes, “Well, I’m sure it’s a downer on your rainbows and sunshine.”

Perhaps it’s just in your ears, or perhaps the world realizes what a terrible thing to say that was, but you swear that there’s a stock sound record scratch directly overhead, “What?”

“Oh, come on, I don’t call you princess for nothing. You’ve got it all,” he places a cigarette between his lips and your budding resentment blinds you to how they plush around the cylinder, “You’re popular. You’re pretty. You’re loved.”

“Are you kidding me, Eddie?” for some peculiar reason, his first name scalds worse than his last name would have, “Did you miss the part where we’re wiping away who you are to make you popular?” you shove him by the shoulder and he stumbles enough to know you’re far past joking, “So what the fuck do you think I’ve been doing for the past four years?!”

“I think you’ve been having the time of your life getting your ass kissed by a loving, comfortable family and everyone at that stupid fucking high school that I’ve been cursed to repeat!”

“You don’t know anything about me,” you laugh, no humor, and grin, no joy, “My dad was an awful drunk that stopped calling because I tried holding him accountable while he wanted to be the big victim!”

“Yeah, and my dear ol’ dad was a criminal that hated me until he needed somebody small and nimble to hotwire or sneak into a place.”

You’re nearly speechless.

“So you should understand!”

He should understand, and on some level he does. On another level, he’s intimidated by what you represent, and that’s why he fights you.

Your world and his might as well be Mercury and Pluto. You have a two-story house with a loving family and he’s got a trailer with his uncle - God bless Wayne’s heart. You can walk by old ladies and children and housewives and businessmen and CEOs and jocks and be adored. He can’t go to Melvald’s General without being scorned and pointed at and avoided. He hates to say it but it burns, like a live fucking roast.

And it burns even more because he’s obsessed with you. Your manicured, polished nails. Your 1970s dresses and ribbons. Your rusted silver ring with the braid pattern you’ve had since middle school.

Worse than John Bender, he fell for the school princess, but at least Eddie managed to have been around you for more than a day.

Two months, in fact, you two have been working together to make him more popular and even if it’s steadily working, your circles are still entirely different.

Not unlike a wild animal, Eddie bites back when he’s scared, and when he saw you on the empty, beer-mudded floorboards of The Hideout just for him - he realized he was downright terrified.

“Like,” you hiccup, no tears have caked your face quite yet but the way your breathing is so choked, he can sense you’re close, “I really just feel like I ruin people’s lives sometimes and you don’t even know me like that- “ you look away and he sees how bloodshot your eyes are, “It’s so unfair of you to judge me like that. My life isn’t perfect just because Jason Carver thinks I’m cool.”

“And what about you and your friends?” he’s quieter than before, “Judging me and mine over what? A dice game and some loud music?” the quiet splits as he remembers why was ever put into this position in the first place, “Fuck you.”

Your head bubbles. Air clicking between where the gears of your brain should be. He doesn’t know anything deep about you, sure, but you know much less about him. That didn’t stop you from listening to your friends bitch about him.

With no defense to that point, you turn away from Eddie and stare forward. Blank and gagged. Eddie copies.

You want to say something. An apology. A comeback. An expletive. Something.

Eddie wants to say something, too. Similar sentiments and entirely new ones. He’d even promise to do everything you say - head in the sand, hands on his ass levels of ignorance if it meant you’d forgive him. Or just look at him again. Let him delight in the sugar of your perfume once more.

Neither of you knows how, though.

Both of you do know, however, that despite different paths of life being paved, this time together is nice. So maybe it’s best to swallow pride and get over yourselves - for the sake of each other and a tasty, crisp fifty bucks (to split).

But Eddie is better at filling silences than you. So he does what he’s best at.

Almost.

Eddie whispers, so low it rattles between his teeth, “I didn’t say anything.”

It takes you a moment to register that the shithead spoke, “Huh?”

“I didn’t say anything,” he looks at you now, smiling big and wide as if he didn’t just almost make you cry.

You glare and he sees the sprinkles of crystalline in your eyes. Maybe the ‘almost’ isn’t so far back that he can actually begin joking again.

“Okay,” you huff and cross your arms, stiff.

“I shouldn’t have judged you,” he admits, “I’m sorry. It was wrong and unfair and I’ll be better to you. Promise.”

That makes your guarded stance drop, melts like dropped blueberry slush under Arizona sun before rolling into leaf-stuffed grouts.

“I shouldn’t have judged you either,” you drop your arms wholly, and Eddie despises the way he finds you so adorable. Your arms come out to your sides, wide and awaiting. When he refuses to immediately get the sign, you jerk your arms in emphasis - eyes shooting impossibly wide, “Stop embarrassing me and get over here.”

Eddie tosses his head back as he laughs, nose scrunching, and you know that if people put their egos and prejudices aside then they’d be in love with him. Not like you.

Sure, you’ve put those aside, but you’re not in love with Eddie Munson or anything. He’s just helping you prove to Jason what an idiotic, pea-brain he truly is.

Eddie gives nice hugs though. The kinds that squeeze and lock you into the comfort. You can feel his arms around you, leather squawking with your movements. His hands are warm and comforting, pressing you as close to him as you can get. He’s back in his ripped jeans and leather and T-shirt logo'd with a band you don’t recognize, it’s like returning to an old dream from childhood. Kindly and tangerine sugar in your head.

Your cheek smushes against Eddie and you can’t help the way your eyes butterfly shut from the fire that sweeps off his body and homes you.

“Sorry for flipping out.”

“It was justified, I’d say.”

“Still. I feel like I can’t complain to people because I know, realistically, I don’t really have a reason to complain unless they see what I do in my life. So I just say everything is great. So I can see why you’d think everything is great.”

“Still,” he copies your tone on that word, even dragging his pitch up to plop a cherry on the sundae, “as someone who says the same shit to my group, I should have known better.”

Maybe the hug is too long at this point, but something about Eddie catering to you like this feels like when your bedsheets are tucked tight for slumber.

“You wanna go out and look at suits tomorrow?”

“I’d rather die, but please, yes.”

There’s a blotch of inky thick silence. Tar and mud, until Eddie does as Eddie does best and wades through it for a question.

“Do you wanna talk about your dad?”

Nobody has asked you that before, and you agree in full.

“He was just. Nutso. Picking fights ‘cuz he could and nobody would fight back. Stupid power moves just to prove himself as man of the house. It was always about him and when it wasn’t, he lost his shit.”

“I’m sorry,” he squeezes you again, kissing the crown of your head, “I’m really glad he’s gone.”

“Me too,” your arms begin to let and Eddie copies, the two of you splitting apart like sweating popsicles on Summer hazy noons, “My stepdad’s sick to death, though. If I get married, he’s walking me down the aisle. I’m not even calling that asshole.”

“Yeah, well, be careful or else your beloved is just gonna hang out with him instead.”

“You saying he’s cooler than me?”

“Way.”

“He’s cooler than you, too.”

“As if I was gonna say otherwise.”

“Speaking of…” you face forward again, but this time your shoe kicks into the dirt, toeing up daisy roots and grass blades, “my brother wants you to go to his class play, but he was never gonna ask,” you look at Eddie again, grinning, “It’d mean a lot.”

Eddie thinks this is it. Under the pale moonlight his mother always told him was angel’s kisses, his stupid rage and dislike dissipate and that’s the moment he also realizes that maybe he never hated you as much as he proclaimed he did. He was bitter over an idea and he was foolish.

“Fuck yeah, I’ll go. I’ll even wear my fancy ‘I fuck on the first date’ shirt.”

“Shut up,” you toss your head back and smack his arm in a giggle, “It’s tomorrow night at nine. Hawkins elementary. And my parents aren’t going. Grandma’s cousin is sick or something.”

“Sounds incredible.”

Tomorrow night at nine, at Hawkins Elementary School, Eddie shows up in a white shirt with black, bold letters that spell “I fuck on the first date”. You’ll jaw drop, caught in the middle of disgust and humor, but when your brother is up on stage and spots you both in those uncomfortable metal folding chairs with the rest of the audience, he waves. All smiles and excitement and sunshine. And when Eddie is dropping you both off at home, he tells your brother to leave a watermelon on the porch of the boy he hates - for free, legal confusion. And your brother will beg to see him again as soon as his whistling, rusted van is out of sight.

Tonight, though, before suits are found and plays are attended, your mom’s car pulls up to a dingy little bar called The Hideout.

Eddie stops you before you can step forward, though, “Is there anything you’d say to your dad if you saw him again?”

There are so many things you could say. You could weep and cry and yell and scream and break things, if you wanted to. You could be shrill and pathetic, you could be evil and vindictive, you could be devastated, you could be lots of things.

“No.”

Because what in God’s name would actually make him change?

You smile shortly and bounce as you head for the passenger side door of your mother’s car. You stop halfway, putting up a single finger in wait, and running back over on shoes that sort of squeeze your toes when you run. Snagging his leather jacket by the lapel, you pull Eddie down so that the rosy apple of his cheek is exposed.

Pressing a cherry chapstick kiss to his cheek, your plans of leaving him daydreaming for more are dashed like meaningless soot under Eddie’s battered sneaker in a snap second. Before you can return to that car with the broken heater, Eddie grabs you by the elbow and tugs you to his side.

He slings you back enough for it to count as a dip, and pauses, rearing back with a giggle long enough for you to stop him and command that you be let up. But you don’t, and you don’t want to, so Eddie leans forward as you do.

It’s more of a peck than anything - certainly more tame than what John Bender and Claire Standish pulled at the end of The Breakfast Club, but most especially tamer than what you might expect from Eddie Munson.

But may your soul be forfeited if that mere peck doesn’t snatch the air straight from under you. He tastes like strawberries and cigarettes and even though his lips are chapped, they’re loving.

Eddie lifts you slowly, shooting a wink, “See ya tomorrow, sweetheart.”

You hate feeling shy and coy, it’s embarrassing, but something inside you just sings at his voice. So, sure, there is a shot that you’re shy when he whispers so low it rattles.

There’s a titter in your voice as you murmur back, “See you tomorrow.”

Eddie gnaws his bottom lip when you scamper off into the car. You slide onto the leather of the passenger seat and your mom is comically wide-eyed, “I’m gonna forget that for now, and ask if that young man needs a ride.”

“What?” your mom leans over despite the sudden thumping in your chest, “Mom, no!” She sucks in a breath to shout but you work faster, rolling up the window as you repeatedly mutter, “Just drive, just drive, just drive!”

Eddie laughs, open-mouthed and thick, his curls bounce when he tosses his head, waving you off before he slinks back into the loud, musty bar.

You’re damn near stuck frozen as your mother settles back into the driver’s seat. She raises her brows and points right at you, “I want answers out of you when we get home, young lady,” she wags a finger in your face before reaching for the knob of her stereo, “But right now, we’re listening to Billie Holiday. So I don’t wanna hear it yet.”

You nod curtly, face igniting like Satan's very inferno, “That is not a problem.”

“After I go to your concert, will you finally follow my actual plan?”

“Yeah, sure, let’s go, baby. What’s next?”

“Next, you finally- “

Get a Date.

Eddie makes his walk of shame back towards you after an absolutely brutal rejection from the only girl in Hawkins with more than her ears pierced (not that the eyebrow bar looked anything other than infected).

Wait, he thinks.

Did he mention that he’s in a band?

Shit.

Should he have mentioned that he’s in a band?

Maybe that’s the way to a punk’s heart.

He thinks of asking you - you would’ve said no (that’s only for you).

Either way, he ends up at your side, right in front of a trashcan by the straw station of Hawkins’ Theater. You don’t know what it is, but a deep thing inside you actually feels relieved that Eddie got rejected. Similarly, a deep thing inside Eddie just wishes you’d choke back the caveat to this step and let him take you on the damn date.

“No luck, wonder boy?” you pout.

“No,” he copies your expression, twisting his hands into his pockets, “I’m hopeless and in desperate need of guidance, dear princess.”

“Hm,” you flip around the theater lobby for a potential date, ignoring the rolling muck that clunks your lungs and throat, “Not a whole lot of options for the local metalhead and Dungeon Master, I fear.”

“What about…” Eddie purses his lips, eyes narrowed in search, “her.”

A woman with a toddler on her hips is watching with exasperated, wide eyes as a young man struggles to tear her ticket stub. You shake your head, posture straightening, “No way. She’s looking for something serious if she’s looking for anything at all.”

“You don’t think moms want flings? Shame on you.”

You’d actually feel ashamed if he meant it, instead, you roll your eyes, “I guess, but how would you even get with a mom? They’ve gotta be harder to impress.”

“Easy. I’d go over in a wife beater and offer to mow the lawn, and then halfway through I take off my shirt.”

Good God, he’s so stupid. You love it, though. It, surely.

Boots thud on the colorful, confetti-styled theater carpet, jewelry jingles and clings as a couple looking straight from the posh, wine-dry era of Victorian London passes by. Arms looped and loving, they reek of haughty money.

You jerk your chin towards the couple, “What about them? How would you seduce them?”

Eddie clears his throat, brows furrowing, “Let’s see… I’d book a table at a really nice restaurant under the name Ricky Schroder because nobody else is named Ricky fuckin’ Schroder.”

You can’t help but laugh, “And what if the staff ask where Ricky Schroder is?”

“‘He’s gonna join us later,’” he shrugs, “You know what? Anybody here would be lucky to have me. I’m the ideal woman with no high school degree at 19-years-old and children as my best friends,” he cringes suddenly, shucking out his tongue like something vile died there, “Gross when I say it like that.”

“Always was,” you punch his shoulder.

Eddie suddenly perks up, and that typically would be no stress, if only you hadn’t trailed his line of sight. He gestures loosely, doing an excellent job of pretending he was disinterested in the development, “What about Chris?”

Chrissy Cunningham. Utter queen. Warmhearted. Peachy beautiful.

“Chris?”

Nobody but Jason called her that, and she and Jason dated. What the fuck is Eddie doing?

“Yeah, Chris. Sorry, that’s what I call her. She’s a friend, she’d get the situation.”

“Oh,” you hate the way you seethe, “Yeah.”

“See you in a bit,” Eddie waves gingerly, “Snowflake King is in the bag, baby.”

Peachy beautiful. Peachy fucking keen.

Eddie and Chrissy are a little too giggly familiar for your tastes. It’s like moldy cheese between your cheeks, watching Eddie try (and horrendously succeed) to ask out your very own friend, Chrissy. You should’ve thought this through, maybe, just how much you now hate the idea of Eddie going out with a different girl.

But to be fair to you, he never asked you out on a date following that Hideout kiss, and to be equally fair to him, you never asked him out following that same Hideout kiss.

Part of you rears back at the idea of taking that first step, though. It’s easier when other people come to you, and unfortunately - Eddie either knows what you’re attempting to goad him into, or he’s simply that dense.

You made the rule his date couldn’t be you before you two even really knew each other anyway.

“Alright,” Eddie pinches your arm and you cuff his hand sharply, “it’s a done deal for Thursday. Enzo’s. On me.”

You bare your teeth in what is a desperate attempt to smile, “Awesome!”

It is decidedly not awesome.

“Well,” he fidgets with the twisted, folded material of the letterman jacket you made him give another whirl - you notice it suits him more than it did last time, still weird though, “I can take you home now, dearest.”

“Oh- uh,” flashes of Chrissy in her sweetheart neckline dresses and pleated skirts across a table alone with Eddie make you suddenly ill. Violent heat flashes that blot sweat along your brow and twist your gut into something wretched, “No worries, Eddie, I’ll get one from my mom.”

Before he gets the shot to check again, you’re darting out the push doors and to a pay phone, coins slick in your palm when you tug some from your pocket. Holding the potentially spit and gum decorated receiver decently far from your actual ear as the tone sings.

Later on, when you’ve actually been taken home, your instinct is to call Chrissy. Bizarre. Your step-father and brother are watching reports on the Saturday news that follows the cartoons - a young man injured by a drunk driver, and you immediately rush to the kitchen phone. No wonder John Hughes and neurologists are so obsessed with the teenage mind.

“You don’t actually like Eddie Munson, right?”

Chrissy giggles in that classic way she does when you’ve been foolish, and you can imagine that she tosses her head back - part exasperation and part humor, “Jesus- you two!” an overly long sigh follows, “Good God, no. I love Eddie, but I don’t love Eddie. He’s great, but definitely not for me. You, though. You know. You two would be great.”

“Okay, okay,” you sigh something guttural, “Enough teasing. I was just asking a damn question.”

“Yeah, right. You’re so jealous and nothing’s even gonna happen.”

“I’m not- “ she hangs up before you can even get the words out.

You groan and let the receiver tumble back into place, moving into the doorway between kitchen and living room to finally get an eyeful of the news.

“Holy shit, Keith got hit by a drunk driver?”

Your step-father raises a brow, sipping his beer - entirely unimpressed.

“Then,” you tap Eddie’s forehead when you notice his attention drifting to a string of polaroids around your vanity mirror, “we get to add a little bit of- “

Mystery.

Before you are two suits - both purchased in kind by your step-father. One blush pink to compliment Eddie’s complexion, and the other a pale arctic blue to pair with the actual winter wonderland dance theme. A white undershirt for either. It’s a truly difficult choice when Eddie Munson could pull off either color and still be your top choice for Snowflake King. And not just because you want to win that damn bet.

Your savior from the truly world-bearing decision comes in the form of your bubblegum phone prattling. Your hand flings for it loosely, making contact after two tries and yanking it to your ear.

“What?”

“Wow, aren’t you a bowl of candy?” it’s Eddie, undeniably, but he’s hissing in pain after the question.

That makes your brows screw closer, “What’s your problem, Munson? I’m trying to pick your tux.”

You hear him swallow thick and noisily exhale, “Yes, that sounds very hard, babe,” a gruff and he finally spills the beans, “I’m getting a rib tattoo, we took a break,” he blows thinly between pursed lips, “Can you come down here? I’m about to puke.”

“You’re getting a rib tattoo?” you press the phone closer and stand up from your comforters, “Are you insane?”

In your head, Eddie’s eyes shoot up to the water-browned ceiling as he speaks, “I dunno. Maybe. They’re mysterious, right? And cool, yeah?” he sighs, “Come down here. Please.”

You grumble, naturally, but there was never a chance you could turn Eddie down when he needs help, “I’ll be over in ten.”

There’s one parlor in Hawkins, and you assume that’s where Eddie got a majority of his tattoos. If not all. It’s twelve minutes from your house, closer to the outskirts of town than even most of the rundown bars, but you make an effort in rushing there. Probably more effort than what somebody keeping this sort of bet strictly transactional would, but still.

Eddie sighed in relief when he saw you and if he hadn’t been in the midst of a raw tattoo then perhaps he would’ve hugged you in all his shirtless glory. He now lays on his side, squeezing your hand like a nutcracker to shell, “This really fucking hurts.”

You brush tangled curls from Eddie’s forehead carefully, “What’re you getting, big guy?”

“Surprise,” he snickers until he hisses, “Fuck.”

You scratch your brain for anything he might enjoy. Anything that may distract.

“You ever seen The Dark Crystal?”

Eddie would show his utter shock in a gasp if there wasn’t a needle in his ribs, “You’ve seen The Dark Crystal? No way.”

“Yeah,” you squeeze Eddie’s hand as he presses yours, “my brother owns it. Wanna watch it after this?”

“God yes,” he sounds breathless and you hate how your heart seems to twist at the sound, “who’s your favorite character?”

“Kira. I also liked Chamberlain.”

“No shit, I love Kira and Chamberlain,” Eddie beams up at you, “I know that it isn’t very good, but I fuckin’ love that movie.”

“Even the Poddling slave scene?”

“Hm. That one might be terrifying, actually. Still a good movie.”

“Well, my brother never watches it, so you can come over and we’ll have a viewing party whenever you want.”

He releases your hand and motions as if to brush his fingertips gently over your cheek, “Sweet, sweet angel, how I adore you.”

“Shut up,” you hate when he flusters you. It’s embarrassing.

When Eddie stands straight before the parlor’s mirror, he looks at you with big, bright eyes. Once again, like a puppy for praise.

A full moon in front of a starry sky and clouds paint his pale ribs, raw at the outlines.

“Aw,” you twine your fingers and let the excuse of his tattoo explain why your eyes linger by Eddie’s chest, “for your mom?”

“For my mom,” he confirms, quieter. Baby cow eyes flip to his raw flesh, “Do you think she’d like it?”

Realistically, you never knew her, and you have no idea - Eddie knows that, most definitely. But you know Eddie (somewhat) and if she was someone worthy of his time, then she would’ve adored him now - and his tattoos.

You take one of his fidgeting hands in yours, “Absolutely.”

“And what after that?”

“After that,” you settle your hands on your hips and nod assuredly, “you win Snowflake King.”

Snowflake Ball.

It’s been a solid handful of months, Eddie is far more popular than he was before and you genuinely think he has a chance. And not just because of your desperate need to win this bet.

Before you, on the floor by your feet, are your step-brother and his date, Carrie Kith, to their own winter dance at Hawkins Elementary. Carrie turns to you, wide crystalline eyes and freshly braided hair, her cherry button nose turned up as if to say that one wrong answer may set her off.

“Is he your boyfriend?”

“Who?”

She points at the staircase, “Him.”

Your eyes flit to the clock your mother has hanging above the TV, "No."

"Why not?" she tilts her head, golden braid falling to her shoulder.

You shrug flippantly, "Boys are a waste of time.”

Carrie visibly considers the wisdom, nods, turns to your brother, and says, "You're a waste of time."

"What did you teach these poor kids while I was away?" Eddie stands at the final step of your stairs, holding his arms out wide and giving a twirl, "What do you think?"

You pick up your jaw and cross the carpet to where he stands. Pale arctic blue suit to match your dress and you can see the faintest touch of the tattoos that terrify locals through the low-cut chest.

"Incredible, you're- " you stop yourself, "Incredible," Eddie looks ready to tease so you speak before he gets the spotlight, "If you lose in this, then maybe I'm not the fashion genius I think I am."

“Don’t put that much weight on it, sweets,” he digs into his pocket and pulls out a closed fist, "You should wear these."

The first uncurls and in his palm - bitten red raw from the cold - is a pair of glittering rubies.

"They're fake," he lampshades, moving the earrings slowly closer, "but… here."

You take the jewels and find yourself biting your bottom lip to contain the bubbling affection in your chest.

"I wanted to get you something nice," from his voice, you can hear shame and nervousness. It's nice to know you aren't alone, then. Eddie cards his fingers through his hair and brushes a lock behind his ear. A ruby gem sparkles through stray tresses, "I wanted people to know who I was with. Don’t need them mistaking me as Chris’ new boyfriend.”

"Thanks," you press your thumb into one of the pointed edges of your gifted earrings, "you didn't have to. Really."

When you look back to Eddie, he mouths shut up and holds out his hand, "I'll put 'em in. And yes, I did have to get them. I saw them and thought of you and then couldn't stop thinking about it until I bought them."

"So you think of me?"

You don't think you're teasing when you ask that.

It stills.

Eddie pauses.

Your brother gags and Carrie joins.

"Yeah, yeah," Eddie rushes to click the earrings in place, pecking your cheek before running to the door. He puts his hand on his hip and you're frozen in the living room as he speaks, "Alright, rugrats, you wanna go to your dance or no? Train's leaving the station."

You're so stupidly muddled that you don't even comment on the way Eddie's van has been cleaned out. No cans or wrappers or empty bags to crinkle or shriek when you shift your legs.

By the time you're actually inside the gymnasium's snowed-in forest set, voting has begun. You put on the theatrics of disappointment, but you can't pretend to not be grateful you missed the Jason Carver power hour. And you can't pretend to not be shocked when you see your name under the title of Snowflake Queen, right between Stacey and Chrissy.

"You know, I think you deserve a win tonight. In case I don't," Eddie ticks the box next to your name.

"Chrissy is gonna win," you x the box by Eddie Munson for Snowflake King, "We both know that."

"I guess," he checks himself for King as well, "but what kind of king would I make if I didn't support the woman that got me here? Hm?"

Not one at all.

You roll your eyes at his jest and Eddie checks the box by your name on your ballot. Snatching the paper from your hand, he practically skips to the locked box for votes and slips both ballots between the top slot. On his way back, Eddie hops and clicks his heels like a showtunes all-star.

"You're ridiculous," you simply watch as he takes your hand.

"And you're stunning," he kisses your knuckles.

You look away as he peers at you through his lashes. Heat fans your face and there's the sudden, unwelcomed concern that he may think you look sweaty,

"I've gotta powder my nose."

"Coke?" he gasps sharply, all for show, all so you laugh, "I can't believe you."

You grant his desires as you shake your head, "You know what that phrase means."

"I just like teasing," so you've gathered.

…

By the time you return to the cornstarch-stenched gym floor, principal Higgins is on stage with the band forced behind curtains. How cruel.

Chrissy flutters to your side in a lavender ball gown and wraps her arm around yours, "You're gonna miss it, we're getting called up!"

"Huh?"

Trin picks up the train of her periwinkle mermaid dress, "Nominees for royalty are being called to the stage. Duh!"

Stacey nods and presses a curl back into place as you all walk, "Honestly, what would you do without us?"

"Not be on stage," you climb the carpeted, moldy steps to where Higgins stands, "Which is actually looking pretty good right now."

Snowflake King nominees line up on the other side of Higgins. Eddie at the very edge, closest to you - at the head of your own line. You do your best to not squint under the harsh stage lights that beat on you.

Eddie, meanwhile, can't help but watch how your ruby earrings move as you do. He likes that you went with them. That you matched a dress to his suit. He likes that people can tell you two came together. Because he really didn't want people thinking he was Chrissy's boyfriend, but he wouldn't mind them assuming he might be yours. The stage lights cast a shine like heaven and the brief idea of you being an angel doesn't feel so lost when you two make eye contact. Painted lips stretch and you wave, he's utterly helpless to return it.

On his other side is the student council vice president, Thomas Heron. Somebody has to hear the good news, and Eddie decides it's him.

He turns and Thomas doesn't flinch away like he would have before you popularized him. Eddie jerks his head towards you, "God, isn't she beautiful?"

It echoes around the otherwise silent gym and that's how he realizes the microphone in front of him is still on and incredibly sensitive.

“Dude,” you tilt your head, chuckling.

He’s embarrassed. It’s nice to see things come full circle.

“Sorry,” he tries speaking into the mic, but now it’s suddenly dead.

Principal Higgins leans into the head microphone, and reads the letter handed to him by counselor Kelley, “And for the moment I know everyone has been waiting for… our Snowflake Royalty.”

Your heart echoes thickly in your ears, skin chills and bumps and you feel the telling of ants in your stomach. Butterflies in your dress.

“Snowflake Queen,” Higgins turns to your line and smiles, “winning by a landslide is…” students stomp in a makeshift drumroll and you already know who the winner may be, will be, “our very own - Chrissy Cunningham!”

No shit.

You, Trin, and Stacey lavish her in applause and hugs and lipstick-printed kisses to her cheeks as a bouquet and crown are slung to her sides. She’s nothing if not modest, and there are tears of joy springing in her eyes while the plastic crown of snowy clouds and crystal is laid on her honeyed head.

“And our Snowflake King…” he trails as the students drumroll stomp again.

Chrissy leans back, nudging you with her tulip bundle, “Nice earrings,” her eyes move to Eddie and she whispers, “Matching with your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my- “ you stop, glaring, “Hush.”

“A surprising usurp of our Homecoming King!” Higgins gestures to the line of nominees.

Eddie’s fingers knot together and this is the first time you get to see how much this bet actually means. Originally, you assumed he was in it for the twenty and your brains on his essays (figurative), and maybe - just maybe - he grew to love your company the way you did his. But you never quite thought he really cared.

Now, though, he watches with wide and petrified eyes as Higgins moves to stand between him and Thomas Heron, “It’s a close call, folks,” he claps both boys on the back, “With only a two-vote difference! Our winner and Hawkins High Snowflake King is…!”

The student body freezes as one. Your breath tightens and chest sticks together by the ribs.

The moment feels like eons.

You hear Chrissy crinkle the wrapper of her bouquet and you wrinkle your nose at the sound.

“Thomas Bradley Heron - our senior class vice president!”

Confetti in whites and blues of varying shades rains down upon the winners and the royalty rejects.

You deflate, the confetti shredding through your bravado like glass to a balloon. Even Chrissy’s disappointment is palpable until she remembers she’s illuminated by a spotlight. Eddie hisses a “fuck” and tosses his head back, though he does clap for the sweet puppy incarnate that resides in Thomas Heron.

“Congrats, man,” Eddie mutters to Thomas - and nobody flinches when he speaks or raises his hand.

The bizarreness is not lost on Eddie. That everyone hated him and now waves when he walks by in the corridors.

You meander to Eddie’s side as a bedazzled crown is laid on Thomas’ head. He holds out a hand and assists you down the stage stairs, “Well, that was a major bust.”

“Yeah,” he reaches out and delicately picks a confetti sprinkle from your shoulder, “but we had fun, right?”

“Hm,” you rustle a few confetti slips from his hair, “we did.”

When Eddie was younger, he used to think that the vows said during weddings were “in sickness and in hell” - it was only when he was sixteen and ring-bore for Wayne’s best friend that he learned otherwise. He likes his childhood version better though, “in sickness and in health” implies that there is only a desire to stay if better times are promised. But since being corrected, he’s known it as health. However, with you, Eddie now wonders if the difference even matters. He also wonders if maybe in a dream world there’s the chance you’ll let him swear to you that he’d crawl through hell for just a second of your time.

God, he’s changed.

Jason, in all his usual assholery, slow claps as he approaches you and Eddie at the landing of the short stack stairs.

“Not now, Carver,” you groan.

“Yeah, you’ll get your money, just back off,” Eddie shoves Jason back by the shoulder.

But the dimwit remains unperturbed, Jason steps closer and purses his lips, “You’re not so tough when your Satan disguise isn't on, are you, Munson?”

Eddie grabs him by the collar and throttles him a little, grinning “Don’t be too excited, Josie, tomorrow is business as usual,” his grip tightens, choking Jason a little, “So just be patient, okay?”

The venom with which Eddie spits his words proves too heavy on his shoulders, and Jason scutters off to where Patrick and Andy stand in plain, vomit-inducingly boring black suits.

You watch as the trio high-five and circle jerk over their victory.

This is technically the end.

You and Eddie don’t need each other.

Tomorrow, he returns to Hellfire and you’re back with the jocks and preps. It isn’t like you two are dating. Just a couple of good months. A handful of memories to giggle at until you two eventually grow so distant that you won’t even wave at each other in the hallways.

Your eyes drift to Eddie, cluelessly picking confetti out of his twisted hair under golden and cornflower lights, and you can’t help but shrink at what a miserable existence that will be. So you prolong your delight now.

“Wanna watch The Dark Crystal again?”

He sighs deep and plucks another confetti slice from you, “Absolutely nothing sounds better.”

…

You can’t believe that you didn’t notice how clean the van floor bed was until now, “Holy shit. Was this already done when you drove us here?”

“Yeah,” Eddie laughs, glancing at you through his peripherals, “Damn, what had you so distracted?”

“I don’t even know,” a terrible lie, but you don’t bother to rectify it. Something weary rests on your bones. Dies there and rots. You lean back into the passenger seat and stare at the full moon, its beams hit Eddie’s face lovingly, “You know, we may have lost, but at least you don’t have to clean out the van post misery. Still impressed, by the way.”

“Just didn’t feel like hearing you complain the whole way home.”

You pointedly ignore the way he refers to your house as home, “Aw, you remembered I hate wrapper crinkles.”

“Of course, I did, I’m in love with you,” he says it like he’s talking to a friend. So casual and at ease until he realizes exactly what it was that he really said.

You rock forward and bang your chest, breath hitching, “You’re what?!”

“Nothing,” he blanches, “A dick. I’m a dick, that’s what I said.”

“No way, I totally heard you, Eddie! Just say it again!”

“Why?”

He looks at you and you smile, head tilting with all that charm he so desperately fell for, “Just say it again.”

Eddie matches your expression and shrugs, tense, “I’m in love with you.”

You suddenly feel the urge to make him pull over. Just to be closer than what the center console allows.

But you were never the best at speaking so plainly, “Of course, you are.”

“Okay. you know what?”

He glares thinly.

You giggle and he joins.

“I’m in love with you, too.”

You're quiet, but he hears it. Most definitely, he did - he was searching for it, in fact.

Eddie tries to smother the lopsided grin that surfaces, but you most assuredly see it, “Of course, you are.”

The beloved rustbucket van sputters as Eddie pulls along the curb of your house, and you two hurry inside. In the doorway, you peel off ache-rucking heels and leave them in one of many cubbies, Eddie copies.

“So, what should we- “

He takes your cheeks in both hands, pausing long enough for you to stop him if you so desired. Then he commits to the possibility of rejection, “Can I kiss you?” he breathes in shaky, nervous, “Please?”

You cup his face in your hands, giddy and heart thrumming at the warmth there, “Yes. Please.”

Eddie lets his eyes flutter shut, whispering against your lips, “Thank God.”

He kisses you there, sweet and adoring and all things you never would’ve assumed from Eddie upon first meeting him. He tastes like strawberries and cigarettes and he smells like weed and cheap cologne and, faintly, gentle wafts of your own perfume.

When you two part, it’s like the confetti is raining again - but this time, you are the winner. Maybe not Snowflake Queen and King, but something sweeter. Ambrosia and nectar.

Eddie simpers, then rears his head further, brows rising as he “Hmmmmmm”s in an imitation of Barry Dennen’s Chamberlain.

“Ew, don’t- “

He bounces off towards your living room, clinging to one of your hands, “Come on, you promised The Dark Crystal,” when you refuse to immediately jump to his side, he inhales and calls out just as Kira does to beckon her animal friends, “Kame-le-ahhhhh!”

“Alright, jeez,” you yank Eddie back to yourself and kiss his cheek, “You, Eddie Munson, are despicable - just using me for my possession of The Dark Crystal.”

“And you, sweet angel, are evil for making me wear letterman jackets,” you both gag at the very memory.

“Rest assured, that’s never happening again,” you kiss his lips again, another peck that he seems desperate to elongate, “You look hotter in your clothes.”

“Really?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Then let’s get me outta this itchy suit, yeah?” he winks.

You roll your eyes but already begin pulling him towards the staircase for your room, “Yeah. Okay.”

Even if you have to put up with Eddie reciting half of The Dark Crystal in a holey black shirt and checkered boxers on your couch by the end of the night, you’d still gladly consider yourself a winner. And that is worth more than any fifty bucks or a Snowflake royalty title. Fewer crowns, though :(

~~

rbs appreciated (slay)

tagging people i think would maybe enjoy this

@kitmon @chainsaw-man-inserts @punk-in-docs @ramona-thorns @indouloureux @bbylogs

[chris-hallelujah]

Not a Secret Anymore | c.s.

Summary: A little mistake forces you and Chris to announce your previously secret relationship.

Contains: foul language, established relationship, minor cyberbullying, fluff, protective!Chris boyfriend!Chris, instagram post at the end

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: Hi everyone! This idea was sponsored by the boys streaming so much recently. All ideas are my own and I do not give permission for anyone to share this on another platform. BTW, the female character has the nam 'Bailie' because I personally don't love using "y/n" but hopefully that won't influence your feelings of the story.

Enjoy,

Billie

You were in Chris' bed watching him, Nick, and Matt stream on your laptop that was propped up next to you. You played Candy Crush while the boys played Dress to Impress on the stream. You knew they preferred to play other games, but the fans loved DTI so they played it every once in a while.

You and Chris had been together for almost a year, but kept it secret. You both had agreed that at your one year, you would hard launch. Chris was very nervous about how his fans were going to react. Not that he cared what they had to say about his personal life, but because he didn't want you getting hated on or attacked.

You weren't fully paying attention to the stream, more so just had it on in the background. It was about 6:00 and you were starting to get hungry. You texted Chris asking what the two of you were going to be doing for dinner. What you had not realized was that when you texted Chris, he happened to be showing the stream something on his phone. That chat started blowing up when they saw a notification come across his screen that read 'Bailie 💖' that was asking about dinner plans. "Motherfucker," Chris groaned as he snapped his phone quickly away from the camera. You still not having realized what happened, quickly looked at the computer to see what he was upset about. Your eyes widened seeing the chat.

Bailie??

WHO IS BAILIE??

Bet she's ugly

OMG DID YALL SEE THAT

DOES HE HAVE A GF

Back off bitch he's mine

OMG OMG WHAT IS HAPPENING

I want to have a heart by my name in his phone 😭

Whoever Bailie is she's lucky

You felt your heart pumping through your chest. You began to panic, Chris was the one who was more anxious about going public and now it was out there and it was kind of your fault.

"We'll be back," Matt said quickly before turning off the mic and camera. You quickly climbed out of the bed and went into Matt's room where the boys were. From your spot in the door way you could still see the chat blowing up. Chris got up once he saw you and pulled you into him.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I didn't know you had your phone out on camera. I didn't mean to I'm sorry," you let out a few panicked breaths, mumbling your apologies into his chest.

"Hey, hey, hey, kid, it's okay," he kissed the top of your head, "Not your fault. We were going to go public in a few months, yea? We just have to address it now." His calm demeanor relaxed you. "You wanna sit on the stream and let me introduce you? I think we just need to rip the bandaid off rather than trying to play it off." You nodded and he led you to the edge of Matt's bed where he sat next to you. Matt and Nick were each in a gaming chair on either side of you guys so you and Chris were in the middle of the camera view.

"Alright, you two ready?" Matt asked. You let out a deep breath that you didn't even realize you were holding, Chris grabbed your hand and interlocked your fingers.

"Ready," he gave Matt a nod and Matt turned the camera and microphone back on. The chat had slowed down a little bit but in the time you guys were all talking their viewer count had gone from about 300k views to 500k.

"Hey chat, uhhh, we're back with a special guest," Nick said looking over at you. You gave a small wave with the hand that wasn't holding Chris'.

"Everyone, this is Bailie, my girlfriend. Obviously this wasn't exactly how we had planned on telling you all, but, here we are," You let Chris take the lead in talking since you really didn't know what to say to his fans. This was his ball game. "Bailie and I have been together for about 10 months. We planned on telling all of you at the one year mark." The chat was blowing up again like crazy with mixed reactions. Somehow despite the chat scrolling so quickly you were easily able to pick out the negative ones. Words like 'fat', 'ugly', and worse were flying across the screen.

"Alright yea I'm turning this shit off," Matt said aggressively, disabling the chat.

"Yea this ends fucking here. I mean it with my whole heart when I say, if I see any negative comments about my girlfriend or my relationship, I will block you on everything. We are happy. If you all genuinely cared about me, you would respect that. I will not tolerate any sort of hate or negativity about my relationship," Chris sternly spoke to the camera. Your heart was hurting from the negative things you had already seen but fluttered at how protective he was over you.

"And that goes for all of us. We will all block you and ban you from all of our accounts," Nick added in, "Bailie has been such a great person to get to know and to be around. You all have even commented on Chris being more upbeat in videos over the last 10 months. Don't be fucking stupid about this and say something you'll regret."

"Now, we're going to turn the comments back on and take some questions, because I am sure you have some. But like Nick said, don't say something stupid and ruin it for everyone else," Chris said. Matt reached for his mouse and enabled comments again. They flooded in and were a bit hard to read but there were some questions that you saw repeated over and over. "How did you guys meet," Chris read, he turned to you, "Do you want to take this?"

"Yea, sure, um, we actually met at the beach. I was there with a group of friends and the boys were there with Nathan. We had asked them to play us in sand volleyball. After that we all went and got dinner-" you started to explain.

"And the chemistry between the two of them was like a fucking science class," Matt added in, earning a laugh from all of you.

"And then Chris and I kept in contact after that and our first date together was mini golf," you smiled and leaned toward the computer to find another question. "Can we have your socials? Sure! My Instagram is @ bailie2233 and the same for my TikTok."

"Will Bailie be in the videos?" Chris read, "Probably a few. Now that we're here, we will probably do a 'Meet Bailie' video for those who don't watch our streams. And she might be in videos here and there, but for the most part our content will remain the same." This was something you guys had agreed on a few months ago. You didn't want to intrude on the boys' content.

"Well, we're going to call it. But thank you guys for watching and being supportive of Chris and Bailie. We all love you and will see you in the Friday video," Matt said. You all waved and he turned the stream off.

Chris pulled out his phone, "I guess I can start posting you now," he said with a smile.

@ Christophersturniolo: hard launch w/ @ bailie2233

[oddballwriter]

A Piece of Cake

Summary: You work at a food truck that sells baked goods, dessert foods, and other such things, named The Sweet Spot, with two other people who you've grown close to. Close enough that they know about your crush on the cook who works at the circus-themed food truck that you share one stop with. They're tired of you being too shy to make a move, so they help you get the ball rolling so that you two can actually talk to each other.  

Warnings: Mentions of cakes and sugars. The reader gets teased by their co-workers a bit but nothing too harsh. Billie and Penny kind of ruining the moment while also making it a bit better? 

Author’s Snip: I love this series and I wanted to make something for the sake of having something other than two sparse headcanon posts.

Notes: Go watch BigTop Burger and support the creator WorthiKids in any way you can. This show is such a delight and I love everything about it.  

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

"I'm gonna go stretch my legs." you tell your co-workers, almost out the door but their odd, almost sarcastic-sounding 'uh-huh's made you pause. "What? We hardly get customers at this stop, and our stock of food is fine. You can handle some customers while I'm out for a few minutes, can't you?" you question.

"Oh no. We'll be fine. For sure." one of your co-workers, Daniel, says, before speaking up again. "But how come you always want to walk while we're parked at this stop instead of all the others we do?" he asks, giving you a knowing look. "Like I said, we don't get customers here. It's half past noon. No one eats baked goods and desserts at noon." you say, trying to make up to defend your reasoning as to why you want to take a walk break at this spot.

"People also don't eat dessert at 1 pm, or 2am, maybe at 3pm, but those two other spots for one and two are okay to walk at too, don't you think, Y/N?" your second co-worker, Helen, suggests, with that same knowing tone.

"What's so wrong with me walking here. It's a nice walk around this block and there's some nice looking things here?" you ask.

"I bet there are." Daniel comments.

"Quit acting dumb. We know you just want to see that Circus Burger guy you have a crush on." Helen accuses. "What? No. I mean- I see him when I walk around sometimes, and I say hi, but I don't like him." you deny, even if Helen is right on the money. "And it's BigTop Burger. Not Circus Burger." you correct, trying to make her feel dumb for getting the name wrong, but you realize that it just makes you look more interested in him by knowing the actual name of the food truck he works for.

To be honest, they don't really care about your interest in him. They just like to tease you because of how much you deny it. And also because he wears clown make-up as part of his uniform and that makes the whole idea of you two kinda silly.

You look at your co-workers with a flushed face, knowing that even if you make a whole argument that you don't have a crush on him, they would know better.

"What's his name again anyways? Tom?" Helen questions. "It's Tim." you correct, again, this time with no defense. "Well. Why don't you take something for Tim and you two can talk. Maybe work up the courage to ask for his number too." Helen offered. "Or maybe just take him something for a couple of days and then ask for his number. One of the best ways to get to a man is through his stomach." she suggests.

"What should I take, though? We have so much stuff here." you say, looking at the plethora of cakes, cookies, brownies, rolls, and bonbons, the list could honestly go on forever and so could the various flavors, looks, hybrids of said things that you carried.

"Here," Daniel says as he moves towards the display and picks something for you. It was a slice of the funfetti cookie crust cheesecake. You look up at him with a 'really?' readable across your face. "What? His job has a clown theme. He might think it's funny." Daniel explains. You glance back down at the slice in its little plastic container that your truck usually puts your slice orders in before sighing and taking it.

"Go get 'em, Y/N!" Helen cheers as you actually step out of the truck and also hear Daniel shout "Don't worry, I'll pay for the slice!" as you walk forward.

The BigTop Truck wasn't that far from yours. It was just a turn around the corner and a small stride forward. It was impossible to miss the blue-colored brick of a truck once you turned the corner. As you got closer, you could see Tim leaning against the truck, on his break. As ashamed as it is for you to know that this time was usually his break time. 'Okay, Y/N. You can do this. Just walk up to him. You've done it before.' you think to yourself as you walk closer and closer. You were so caught up in your thoughts that you probably would have passed right by the BigTop truck and Tim if it weren't for him saying something.

"Hey! Y/N, right, from Sweet Spot around the corner?" Tim greets. "Out to stretch your legs again, huh?" he says. "Yeah. Sorta." you choke out, trying to both keep your cool and lower your excitement. "I brought you something." you say, holding out the slice of cheese cake to him.

Tim takes a second to look at it. "Oh wow. That's really something isn't it?" Tim comments. "Yeah. It's... something new on our menu. Some people have mixed feelings about it and," you explain, trying to come up with a reason why you'd just give him a piece of cake for free. "I was told to have someone kind of settle the score to see if we should keep it or not?" you conclude.

"I see." Tim says. "Well, I'll see how I feel." he remarks as he takes the container from your hands.

You somewhat avert your gaze so as to not make the situation weird by watching him eat. He uses the taped-in fork and takes a few bites pausing in between chews and taking pieces of certain parts to get the food as a whole.

"It's pretty good." Tim finally says, "No doubt, there's enough sugar in here to make a blood sugar monitor explode. But still good." he comments, trying to make a joke. "Yeah. I'm sure there is. If I'm being honest, this hybrid abomination feels like a culinary crime, but you know how it is with food trucks. If it's crazy enough it gets sales." you agree smiling a bit to show that you appreciate the joke.

Tim nods and even makes a few bashes himself. "Hey. I'm pretty sure we only have one or two people who actually like our food. I think everyone else is just trying it for the sake of seeing what it's like." Tim remarks, "I mean, our burger buns literally have sprinkles on them." he adds.

You think about the idea of how that would even taste and understand that that also feels like some type of crime against food as well.

"But hey. Your truck can get away with sprinkles. That's basically the go-to strategy for everything you sell." Tim explains. "I haven't eaten anything from there till right now with this, but your stuff looks good." Tim compliments.

You see Tim try and say something else after a long beat of silence but the window latch of the truck pops open and smacks him hard in the back of the head with a faint bunk noise.

"Hey, Tim. Steve wants us to head to the next stop early, for whatever reason, so-" a person with blue clown make-up and a cap on says, speaking low and monotone voice before pausing upon seeing you and their co-worker who was rubbing the hit spot, who was shooting them a quick glance.

Another person, this time a shorter, rounder woman with pink makeup, pokes her head out. She sees you and Tim as well but she changes to a brief shocked expression and speaks, "Sorry for the interruption. Tim, take your time. I need to talk to Billie for a second.", the woman takes hold of the window door and quickly throws it down to close it, but in the process hits Tim in the back of the head again. You hear her shout a muffled "Sorry!" from inside.

"Are you okay?" you ask. "I'm fine. Just fine." Tim assures. "That was Billie and Penny by the way. In case you wanted to know," he says.

"Thanks for the cake by the way it was really neat of you to offer me some." Tim thanks. "I'll keep that as a highlight of the rest of my day. Whatever that may entail." he says as he starts to walk around to enter into the truck.

You try your best to not squeal at the fact that he just called you, well, more like the cake, a highlight in his day.

You wave goodbye to each other before he gets into the truck and you turn to walk back to your food truck. Upon getting back, you find Daniel and Helen seemingly waiting inside for you.

"So, how was your date?" Daniel jokingly asks.

"He liked the cake," you say, "And I met his co-workers." you add.

"Ooh. Sounds pretty serious." Hellen buds in with a joke of her own.

[vexic929]

Prompt for you?

"...please tell me you got all your hair chopped off in a freak accident or something- you didn't choose that, right?"

lol I knew immediately who to write this for

info on Ricki, Jessie, Tiff, and Dami here, here, here, and here

"You lose a bet?" Jessie asked the moment Ricki walked in the door.

Tiff looked up from her laptop to see what Jessie was talking about. Ricki was still in the doorway, tugging off her leather jacket and sporting a curly mullet that she definitely hadn't had the day before.

"Oh my god...please tell me you got all your hair chopped off in a freak accident or something- you didn't choose that, right?" She blurted and Ricki rolled her eyes.

"Ha ha, you guys are hilarious," she said setting her coat aside and crossing the room to peer over Dami's shoulder to see what she was drawing in her sketchbook.

"Well, I approve." Dami commented, quickly closing their notebook so Ricki couldn't see.

"Aw, thanks Dam-" Ricki started but Dami continued.

"I'm certain this new look will be a wonderful deterrent for would-be suitors. Koriand'r must like it as well."

Jessie and Tiff burst into laughter and Ricki sighed, crossing her arms.

"Are you done?" She asked and Jessie just shook her head.

"No, who the fuck told you to get a mullet, big bird? I wanna thank them, I haven't laughed this hard in years!" She cackled, dodging the pillow Ricki threw.

"Okay, okay, I get it. You think the mullet was a mistake. Knock it off, already," Ricki said with a frown.

"First Discowing now this, are you trying to get on Gotham's worst dressed list?" Tiff teased.

"That suit is incredible, you just don't appreciate good retro fashion." Ricki defended.

"At least tell me you didn't pay for someone to do that to you." Jessie said, finally recovering from her laughter.

"When have I ever paid for someone to cut my hair?" Ricki replied.

Tiff hummed. "Are you going through a breakup? An early mid-life crisis? Do we need to stage an intervention?" She asked and Ricki rolled her eyes, sitting on the couch.

"I just wanted a change, okay?"

"Are you changing personas too? I have some name suggestions if you are." Jessie said with a smirk. "Redneck Robin, Mullet Master, The Long-Lost Kryptonian Cousin of Billy-Ray Cyrus-"

"Oh shut up."

[maria-eve-falcon]

I think she understood his anxieties, you can hear in her songs over the years and I think just from what we know of her as a person... I think she got tired of waiting for him to do something and decide what he wanted in his life... And you can say that him not deciding has to do with his anxieties, but I think she understood him and just waited as long as she could...

sorry I didn't answer early.. I had this answer in my mind but I was(am) to0 tired.

precaution : it's gonna be long and there will be out of this particular topic disclosure because idk why a box inside was opened by this

so.. while I get people when they say she waited too long (bit skeptical) we can't blame anyone (this is making me cry wow parasocial much?) and:

they both of mental issues as we know . god knows what was their position in times. normal people without any issues (almost everyone has issues cause 'perfect' is just not a thing) can't commit easily , famous people with issues having a hard time is really normal. commitment is big. it's not just a piece of paper (imo)

I can't blame joe at all here. cause look at the position he was in. his career kickstarted and he was with her. something very unsimilar with her other exes. so, he doesn't have a career close to the people that debuted with him / close to the time he did i.e liz debici (they won a chopard together ) . he doesn't have enough press (lmfao billy lynn had the record for most press(if not collectively) with him until recently ), nominations and stability what so far judging that he is a decent actor (you can disagree for sure but he IS a decent actor objectively (even when miscast) )

I understand he doesn't want fame and hoards of money doesn't mean he doesn't want a stable career ( while tay's is 740 million a year! that's a load even after paying for everyone and everything! (idk why I pointed this out) )(acting is not a stable career choice it self but I bet he wants to have some kind of stability before at least marriage) AND he has to calculate his every word and action since the beginning .

this is gonna sound mean but do you think tay's position screams suitable for marriage and babies? I'm sorry but she is the position (was before the tour too!) where she literally is on top of the world ! ( yeah I wrote this after the people's article so I'm angry) to get married now and gain a load of attention FOR IT, is sure to be overwhelming for an actor like joe who grew up pretty normal. posh , but normal. I'm sorry but she hasn't step down at all! (not her fault but.. not his either)

considering everything I just pointed out lame excuses (this is gonna get ugly so buck up) what about her picking fights? (when you are in love, you fight but don't pick them?! ) for example afterglow, false god. she even said she knows it's her fault but wants HIM to apologize first. (i'm a person who used to always apologize first and boy, at a point you don't care and distance yourself from those who keep making ya do that (that's how my rtl with my 8 year long bestie ended, fucking exhausting I tell ya) ) ALSO when SHE broke HIS heart first! sorry but my man is human!

ok , fuck all I said . even judging by ylm , I'm assuming with pressure to work on his career or not he couldn't read her mind cause surprise! he is human! they just needed to talk about where they were or what she actually wanted but clearly she didn't understand that.

also about letting go. do you really think a woman who is still writing songs about jm (something that happened 13 years ago) AND INDICATING ENOUGH THAT IT'S ABOUT HIM KNOWING WHAT HER FANS ARE LIKE , going as far to dress up like she was in the vma's literally a decade ago and announcing her new album on the bday of some guy's ex wife (who every one is done dragging for the last 3 years) on mtv music awards is letting go? that thing icked me soo hard . what is growing up is confusing to me since midnights announce. she needs to stop these little clues to diss people that are perfectly fine with their lives and don't care at all! it just shows she loves dragging things and can't let go or be cool about it after soo many years!(nothing else!) and worst part is she makes it obvious that it's about them. now it has come to the point where it is just a stupid topic for everyone to make fun of. her pain surrounding jm and kanye has been dragged for soo long by none other than her and her fans that either people just roll their eyes and move on or it's just a joke atp!!!!!!!!!!!!

tl;dr : I just made 7 points of why joe might have not proposed to her and was stressing about doing so.

[munson-blurbs]

How They Say "I Love You" for the First Time

Just some thoughts about how each Stranger Things guy would tell you he loves you for the first time :) divider credits: @firefly-graphics

Steve Harrington: Meeting His Parents

You come home from work to see Steve sitting at the table, head in his hands, clearly distressed.

"What's wrong, babe?" you ask, rubbing his back gently.

He looks up at you with red-rimmed eyes. "My mom called," he explains, "and she wants me to come over for my dad's birthday."

You frown, knowing about your boyfriend's strained relationship with his parents from your many late-night talks. "What do you wanna do?"

"I don't know," he says finally. "I know I should go, but I can't stand to listen to him talk about what a failure I am for not going to college while my mom just sits there and does nothing."

You consider your response carefully before speaking. "What if I come with you?" you offer, not wanting to cross any bounds. "Only if you want."

"You'd do that for me?" His voice breaks slightly, in awe that someone would voluntarily risk getting caught in the Harrington family crossfires.

You nod, placing a kiss atop his head. "Of course, Steve. I'll be with you the whole time."

Steve stands up and pulls you in for a hug. "Baby, I love you so much."

Billy Hargrove: Patching His Wounds

Billy had changed a lot since you two had started dating: he had moved out of his house, away from his awful dad, allowing Max to stay over whenever she needed. He'd be trying to steer clear of fighting, especially now that he could be charged as an adult.

That was until he'd overheard someone talking about you; some prick who took one look at you in your short skirt and said to his buddy, "How much d'you wanna bet that I can get in that slut's panties?" The next thing anyone knew, Billy's fist was connecting with the guy's nose with a sickening crack. He probably would've kept going if you didn't pull him back.

Now you're back at his place, gently applying antiseptic to his bloodied knuckles. He hisses at the sting, instinctively withdrawing, but you pull him closer and keep dabbing.

"You don't have to fight for me," you tell him. "That loser wasn't worth all of this pain."

"Hell no," Billy says through gritted teeth. "Nobody talks that way about the woman I love and gets away with it."

Eddie Munson: Post-Sex Cuddles

It's no secret that Eddie Munson is touch-starved; he's constantly all over you. Fingers intertwined with yours when you're walking, an arm slung around your shoulder during a movie date, randomly kissing your forehead while you're hanging out with friends. Tonight, you're laying on the couch after exploring each other's bodies, soaking in the feeling of bringing each other such physical pleasure.

Your legs are lazily draped over his, head against his soft chest, gently rubbing his torso with your thumb. He presses his lips to your scalp.

"Can I tell you a secret?" he murmurs. "This is what I've always wanted."

You glance at him, kissing his jawline. "Mind-blowing sex?" you tease.

"That part's great," he agrees with a laugh, pulling you closer into him. "But the...holding you afterwards, it just feels so right."

"I know what you mean." You snuggle him, taking in the warmth from his body. "It feels especially right being with you."

"I think," Eddie starts, hesitating before hurtling into his true feelings. "I think it's because...because I'm in love with you."

Jonathan Byers: Taking Your Photo

One thing you and Jonathan initially bonded over was your love of peace and quiet. Both natural introverts, you could cuddle for hours without saying a word, just listening to the beating of his beautiful heart as you lay on his chest.

Even your hobbies centered around quiet, with Jonathan's love of photography and your penchant for reading novels. Right now, you're sitting under a tree, eyes scanning Toni Morrison's The Bluest Eye, one of your favorite books. Jonathan is supposed to be photographing the meadow; instead, he keeps his camera trained on you.

"Jonathan!" you giggle, "I thought you said you wanted to get pictures of the flowers!"

"I do." he pouts, feigning frustration. "You're just so beautiful, y'know? I feel like I have to capture this moment."

You roll your eyes playfully. "You're ridiculous," you say, getting to your feet and pulling him in for a kiss.

He brushes your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. "Maybe," he admits shyly, "but it's only because I love you."

Argyle: Brushing His Hair

People might expect Argyle to blurt out his true feelings for you while under the influence of his favorite plant, but he's stone-cold sober when it happens.

You're both in his living room; you're sitting on the couch and he's on the floor beneath you. You've been playing with his hair for the last ten minutes, running your fingers through his long, silky locks.

"'S not fair," you mutter quietly. "How does my boyfriend have better hair than I do?"

He chuckles, shaking his head back and forth so his hair tickles your legs. "I think it's only fair that I have something, considering everything about you is perfect, babe."

You feel yourself blushing, like you always do when he gives you a compliment. It feels like he never runs out of sweet, romantic things to say to you. "Can I brush it?" you ask.

"Of course." He disappears into his bathroom, returning with his hairbrush in hand.

You start at the ends, gently combing out the knots. He closes his eyes and relaxes as you work your way up to the roots.

"I dunno how to say this...might sound weird," he says softly, "but I always feel, like, safe with you. Does that make sense?" He furrows his brows, worried at your response.

"I feel safe with you, too," you confide. "Like nothing can hurt me, because I have you to protect me."

"Exactly!" A smile lights up his face, sending electric shocks through your body. "Man, it's like I totally get it now."

"Get what?" you question, pausing your brushing.

"Get what everyone meant when they said that I'll just know when I'm in love."

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

Congratulations on the milestone!!🎈🎉And yes I'm running in at the last minute to beg for

Frank Castle & #15

plus smut, if you please. He & I both know he was made for it.

I'm sorry this took me so long. I've rewritten it a million times and I still hate it.

Masterlist

Midnight Serenade

Contains: Fluff, smut. Takes place in a universe where Billy was a good guy.

1.2K words

So often the end of a love affair is death by a thousand cuts, so often its survival is life by a thousand stitches - Robert Breault.

Frank knew owning and running a business would be hard, even if it was with his best friend, but he didn't think it would be like that. All he wanted to do was go home and put his feet up, but instead, he had to waste his time standing around making sure some twenty something influencer didn't get themselves shot.

Chad Money, as he called himself, had gone too far with some comments online and ended up on the wrong side of a local gang, and now he needed help. Billy and Frank had done their best to send him in another direction, by another client, one who paid them a great deal of money, was insistent that they take him on. It got worse when they realised that insistence came from Chad having dated the client's daughter.

"You got a girl?" Chad sounded like he was trying to be Justin Timberlake at the high of his frosted tip days.

"I got a woman, and she's at home waiting for me, so I would appreciate it if you'd finish buying your shirts so I can get home to her." Frank had been here for hours, no man needs ten of the same shirt in a different colour, especially when they were two thousand dollars each.

Chad flashed him a grin, "You got a photo?"

Frank shook his head, "No, I don't keep one on my person when I'm working. For her safety." That was a lie, Frank had one in his wallet and one in his car, but he wasn't going to say that.

"Shame, I bet she's pretty." Frank wanted to punch him.

"She's very pretty," Frank looked at his watch, "How long will you be? I will need to call someone to relieve me if you're going to be much longer."

Chad shrugged, "I'm done now. I'll buy these and then you can go home to your girl, sorry, your woman."

Frank gave him a tight smile, "Thank you Mr Money."

****

Frank's back ached for the couch as he walked in the door, "By day dearest?" Frank grunted, "Oh, that bad. I imagine it has something to do your new client."

Frank huffed, "He fucking sucks. You know he admitted cheating on that client's daughter. He's fucking shameless."

You shook your head, "I'll get you a beer and you can put Justin Plywoodpond behind you."

Frank made a face, "Plywoodpond, did you come up with that on the fly?"

"Nope, I've been thinking about it since the first text you sent me." You could see the upset fade from Frank's face, "You gotta admit it's pretty good."

Frank already has his phone out, "Hell yeah it is, I'm telling Billy."

"I'd ordered a Pizza from eight just before you came in," you pointed to the freezer as you opened the fridge to get his beer, "I also battered some ice cream when I got home so we can have deep fried ice cream for dessert."

He grinned, "Fucking A, I'm a lucky man."

****

Frank stood behind you in the bathroom as you washed your face, toothbrush in his mouth and a skip in his step, but you waited until he was done to ask him why he was so happy, "What's gotten into you? The ice cream couldn't have been that good."

He smiled, "I just get to do what I've been thinking about all day."

Frank's lips met yours, he tasted of tingle mint, "You already did that when you got home Frank, more than once."

He shook his head, "I wasn't talking about the kiss."

"Oh, I see." You pointed to the bed and smiled, "I'll go wait for you, don't take long or I'll start early."

Frank shot you a look, "I'll be two minutes, you're not that impatient."

Sure enough, two minutes after you were settled, Frank emerged from the bathroom and flopped down into bed next to you, "So?"

You rolled onto your side, threw your leg over Frank's hip and straddled him, "So." You bent down and kissed him and he placed hands on your hips only to slide them all the way up to your face as the kiss deepened.

You felt Frank's cock harden underneath you as he broke the kiss to pull off your shirt. His hands were rough on your bare skin as he sat up and yanked you into his lap. There was an awkward shuffle as your parted so Frank could pull off his sweatpants and he stifled a laugh when you lost your balance on the way back to his lap, "It's not funny Frank."

Frank took your face in his hands and sighed, "It's kinda funny."

Frank pressed his lips to yours and gripped your panties before pulling them down your legs. You placed one hand on his cheek and grinned through the kiss as you ran the other hand all the way down his body to wrap around his cock.

Frank bit off a grunt and nipped your lips as you stroked him, and with a giggle, you removed your hand from his cheek and gave him a shove. It wasn't much in the way of force but he went down onto his back nonetheless. You removed your hand from his cock and slid it back up his body, placing both has on his chest and looking down at him with a smile, "What do you want to do here?"

Frank's eyes racked from where you were sitting on him to your eyes but not before lingering on your breasts, "Whatever you want." One of his huge hands moved from your thigh to your centre and a look of pride came over his face when he found you wet, "All this just from that?"

You sighed, "You're a smug bastard." Further words were stolen when he slid two thick fingers inside you, and it took all your control not to crumple over as he pressed his palm into your clit, "I love you."

Frank didn't slow, "Tell me you love me again."

"I love you." You could feel the tension of his muscles under your hands as you started to rock against his fingers.

"Again." His voice was tight and you wondered what he was thinking as his eyes locked on the hand between your legs.

"I love you." You clenched your legs around him to keep yourself stable as you came around his fingers and Frank huffed as your fingernails pricked the skin on his chest, "I need you."

Frank was already rushing to give you what you asked, pulling his fingers away so he could grab your hips as you gipped his cock and sunk down with a whimper, "Tell me you love me again."

"I love you Frank." You bent down and kissed him as your hips moved and Frank bucked into you.

"I love you too y/n." The rest was a hurried mess of teeth and tongue as one of Frank's hands reached down to rub your clit, "Come on, I'm right behind you."

You were powerless to resist as Frank noised turned feral as you clenched around him, "Atta girl." His hand moved off your clit, and he gripped your hip so hard you knew you would have bruises before he bucked his hips one last time. You felt him pulse inside you and you finally crumpled over as Frank ran his hands up and down your back, "You good?"

You nodded, "I'm great. You wanna order pancakes?"

Frank chuckled, "You got a sudden craving?"

"Yes I do. That place down the street does delivery." You took him in a kiss and he rubbed your nose with his, "It's still open."

Frank sighed, "Ok, pancakes sound good. I love you."

"I love you too Frank."

Fin

[magicalqueennightmare]

Sins & Amends Chapter 8

(Gif by @ banditthewriter)

Billy Russo x Female Reader (60 part story)

This follows pre- the punisher into the storyline of daredevil, punisher season 1 and beyond

This is NOT Canon Billy. This is decent human being Billy left with bad options over worse decisions

This was also posted to A03 under: WaywardGaPeach. That account and this one is the only place you'll see me post this. If you see it on any other platform/account know it's not me.

Chapter Summary : Frank knows just what to say to light a fire under Billy. Maria confronts you about your feelings at the same time

A few days turned into two weeks since you had any communication with Billy. You were used to radio silence during Frank's deployments so you really weren't that worried. You had work, the kids, Maria and Curtis to fill your time.

Billy on the other hand found his mind drifting to you whenever he had down time. Alice's teasing has stuck with him. What if you found someone? Someone that could admit how they felt about you? That didn't have a reputation like he did? That didn't start life out as a gutter rat and scraped and clawed just to find some sort of footing. 

You deserved the best. From the first day he met you his interest was perked and that was before he got to know you. 

Over time he'd seen you cry, seen you laugh until you got hiccups. He'd saw the way your face looked illuminated by the first rays of sunlight in the morning. He'd fell asleep with you tucked up next to him either watching movies, by a campfire a few times or just enjoying each other's company. He'd heard your worst fears and your greatest dreams. He'd sat listening as you described lives you'd saved and wouldn't take the compliment of him calling you a hero brushing it off as saying it was just your job. 

Somewhere along the way he'd fallen harder than he ever thought he would for anyone. Whether it was the way you smiled when you would brush his hair back from his face or how you'd gently encourage him to talk about the things that ran through his head instead of bottling them up.

He'd seen the way you were always there for Maria when she needed a shoulder, how you jumped in to help Curt with his physical therapy and rehab. You were the most compassionate and caring person he'd ever met and beautiful on top of all that. He truly didn't see how you were still single. 

A small part of him hoped maybe you were waiting on him but then the rest of him was quick to remind himself that how would that be fair to you?

"Bill!" He blinked a few times then turned in his cot to look at Frank "What?" "I've called your name four damn times. What the hell has you all spun up?" Frank asked propping himself up on his elbow. "Nothing man" 

He hoped Frank would let it go at that cause god knows he wasn't exactly feeling all sharing is caring at the moment. "Yea that nothing got a name or should I guess? I'm willing to bet a hundred I'd get it right on the first try" that made him sit up "what you going on about Frankie?" 

He didn't miss the grin that slipped onto Frank's face "Just thinking out loud" "about whatever is on my mind?" Frank shrugged "That and wondering whether or not Y/N went out with that truck lieutenant what's his name" 

"Hunter?" Billy couldn't hide the annoyance he felt at the mention of the guy. He'd been sniffing around you for the last two months before this most recent deployment. He was around Billy's height but that was where the similarities ended. He was blonde, blue eyed and seemed more suited to be surfing the coast in California than working for the FDNY. 

"Yea Maria said he had asked her out the last time I talked to her. Dunno if she agreed or not" he said it nonchalantly on purpose as he turned as if to get comfortable to go to sleep but had to stifle a laugh when a pillow smacked him in the head "The fuck was that for Bill?" He asked chunking the pillow back and slinging his feet around to be facing his friend.

Billy was trying to hold his tongue but he was a bit too annoyed to do so. "You've went two weeks without telling me that? God damn Frankie. What if she went out with him? Fuck man. She deserves better than some pretty boy smoke eater" Frank was grinning by that point despite seeing how much Billy was fuming. "Well damn Bill who'd you have in mind for her?" 

Billy stopped mid rant and actually looked at Frank long enough to realize he'd just let his tongue loosen enough to tell on himself. "How long have you known?" "That you're crazy for her? A while. It's not hard to see to anyone except you and her apparently" 

"Shit. What the hell am I supposed to do?" It was a simple enough question but it made Billy want to flinch at how pathetic he sounded. Fuck he was Billy the beaut. He had women stepping on each other at bars for his attention why the hell was it so difficult to face his feelings for you? "Maybe in two days when communication is back up you call her? Talk to her?" Frank was staring at him now and it took every ounce of self control to not look away. Instead he nodded "Yea I think I need to man up" 

"Attaboy. Now how's about you shut the hell up so I can get some sleep?" Frank said with a grin before flopping back onto his cot which creaked at the sudden movement. "Yea get your beauty sleep Frankie. God knows you need it" Billy barely ducked before Frank's boot zipped over his head.

You laughed watching Lisa slide around the corner in her socks giggling. She was supposed to be in bed twenty minutes ago but well bedtimes were supposed to be a little relaxed on weekends weren't they?

You'd finally bribed her and Frank Jr with promises of pancakes come morning if they wouldn't give their mom too hard of a time. You felt bad because you hadn't been able to stay over as much as you normally would during a deployment but the station house was a paramedic down so that meant you had to pick up a few more shifts. 

A new girl had been hired and fit in beautifully with the existing team so that meant your schedule could go back to normal. You'd missed Alice as your partner full time and you missed spending as much time with Maria as the kids. 

"Night aunt Y/N!" She called down the stairs and you could hear Maria rounding her up for a reading of "One batch, two batch" so you decided to clean up the kitchen.

---------------

You had just finished putting away the last of the dishes when you heard Maria's quiet footsteps coming down the stairs and turned towards her with a smile "Munchkins sleeping?" She nodded "They were both so wound up from the thought of getting to spend an entire weekend with aunt Y/N" 

You grinned and did a mock curtsy "I apologize ma'am" she rolled her eyes at your actions "Grab the wine out the fridge I'll get the glasses" 

------------------

Later the two of you were curled up on the couch watching a movie and you noticed she kept glancing your way so you finally paused the movie and turned to face her pulling your feet up underneath you "Yes Mrs Castle is there something you'd like to share with the class?" 

She shrugged then said "Communication should be back up for the guys soon" you knew her well enough to know her fishing for something tone but chose to let her wade deeper into whatever she was getting at. "Yea. They've been radio silent for two weeks. I wanna make sure Frank's in one piece. If he gets hurt i may just kill him myself" 

"What about Billy?" She asked eyeing you over the brim of her wine glass and you knew what she was getting at. You'd been side stepping it since Hunter had asked you out a few weeks before. He was cute and sweet. A bit of a goofball at times but it was nice. He was genuinely a good guy but you just couldn't see yourself with him. Why? Oh because you were hung up on Billy and the feelings you had unintentionally developed for him.

"Yea I want him to come home in one piece too" you finally admitted and she grinned "Are you two ever gonna realize that you've practically been a couple for nearly a year now without all the fun stuff?" "Ria!!" You nearly hollered then caught yourself remembering the kids were asleep. 

She locked her gaze on you and it was everything you could do to not squirm. "I've known you for many many years Y/N. I've seen you happy, I've seen you sad, I've seen you pissed. The way you look at Billy, how comfortable you are around him hell it even transcends how you are with Frank and Curt and those two consider you a little sister. All I'm saying is that it's apparent he makes you happy and that you make him happy. I can tell and more importantly he talks to Frank or rambles as Frank put it. You two need to take that leap. I think it could be worth the risk"

"And if it's not?" You asked in a quiet voice so she pulled your head over on her shoulder "Then I'll make good on my initial threat to him concerning you" and that mental image alone was enough to make a small laugh escape your lips.

You tried to push Maria's words out your head as you filled the next two days with her and the kids but when Sunday night and you were back in your apartment getting ready for work the following day all your nerves managed to hit at once. 

You were checking over your med bag when the chime starting going off from your laptop alerting you to a video chat request coming through. You sat your bag down next to your dresser and slowly walked over to your bed as if you were approaching a wild animal more than a dell. 

You smiled when you saw Billy's face and self consciously ran a hand through your hair even as you hit the button to accept. A moment later the screen gave way to an image of him smiling back at you "Y/N you're a sight for sore eyes" you bit your cheek to keep the blush from spreading across your face and mentally kicked Maria for getting under your skin before saying "I see you're still in one piece. That's very good news. I assume Frank is too?" 

He grinned "Yes ma'am. Here's across the room talking to Maria and the kids. How are you? Anything new?" "I know now two new disney songs thanks to Lisa and I delivered a baby the same night I talked to you last" you replied with a smile sliding up further on the bed to get comfortable before pulling the computer into your lap.

"Anything else?" He asked with a tilt of his head those dark eyes making you lose any train of thought you may have had. "Um nothing notable" you answered after a moment hoping he hadn't noticed you simply staring at him. Jesus Maria and Alice in your ear had really messed with your head. You'd seen him practically naked due to bad communication of shower times at the cabin before and didn't stare this much ok maybe you did but he hadn't noticed and hell who could blame you? 

"Alice still on you about being single? Cause i hear one of the firemen at your station house asked you out?" He said it like he was asking you what the weather was like but you didn't miss the slight tick in his jaw when he spoke so you decided to test of Maria's theory. If she was right that would be wonderful and if she was wrong well rejection would hurt less with so much distance and another five months between you.

"Oh yeah Hunter asked me out a couple weeks ago. You remember him right he's the truck lieutenant on rescue squad" you tentatively said and could see his jaw clench more. Fighting to keep yourself calm at the proposition of Maria being right you continued "He's a pretty chill guy to work with. He's always so sweet to anyone during calls and he even helps restock the rig if we need anything from the supply closet while we're counting down plus I mean he's not exactly ugly" it was true Hunter was an attractive guy.

You felt your heart jump when Billy cut you off by saying "Well shit if good ol Hunter is so amazing why aren't you off with him instead of wasting time talking to me?" You could see he was about to go into a full blown rant so before he could you confessed "because I'd pick you over any man in New York City any day of the week Russo"

He paused, a smile slowly working it's way onto his face "What'd you say?" "I'd pick talking to you over being with any other man in New York City" you repeated chewing your bottom lip from nerves.

"So I take it you didn't say yes when he asked you out?" He pushed and you shook your head "Told him no. He's a good guy but he's not my type. He was understanding about it" 

You wanted to cry from just how exposed you felt. You were putting a years long friendship on the line not to mention your heart. "Well what is your type then?" You swallowed hard when he asked but figured it was now or never. "Well someone who's brave, who doesn't mind fighting for what he believes in. Handsome and knows it, a bit cocky about his looks at times but still a sweetheart deep down. Someone who would hold me for hours after a bad call and make sure I wasn't alone even if I insisted I was ok" 

Your gaze fell to your hands as you felt a blush warm your cheeks. Several seconds passed during which you wanted to find a hole to climb into before he spoke again "Sounds like you've got a pretty solid idea of who you want" you nodded still not looking at the screen until he added "Well I'm sure you'd be interested to know I've already met who I want to be with too"

Your eyes flew up to the screen and your heart felt like it was on the verge of either exploding or crumbling and which one rested solely on the next words to come out his mouth "Tell me about her?" You asked quietly and he smiled softly "She's beautiful god the first day I met her she knocked the wind out of me with just how gorgeous she looked in shorts and an old t-shirt. She's braver than some of the men I serve with hell you gotta be running head first into situations like she does to try to help people. She jumped in feet first to be a surrogate parent to Frankie's kids when he can't be there. She backs those she loves with everything she has and would go through hell for anyone she considers family. Not to mention she is fucking adorable when she falls asleep leaning over on me"

You were fighting back tears of relief by that point. For so long you dreamed of Billy saying those things, of him wanting to be with you and now here he was saying it "Did she finally figure out how I feel?" He asked after a moment and you nodded "Yea she did" "So does that mean we're gonna give this a try? I've never really been a relationship type of guy but Y/N sweetheart I wanna be for you if you'll have me" you almost laughed at the honest look of uncertainty on Billy's face. You'd never really seen it on him before.

"Yea Billy I want you. I've wanted you for so long I just didn't want to fuck up the friendship we have" it felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest just saying those words. "Why have we both waited this long to tell each other?" He asked with a broad smile.

"Cause you're both idiots" Frank answered walking up behind Billy and giving him a playful shove then winked at the laptop "Y/N good to see you kid" "Hey Frank. You doing good?" You responded wiping your hand down your face. "Yea I'm good. I talked to Maria and the kids so I'm great. Tell me one thing though did you and Bill get on the same page cause I'm tired of watching a grown man pining over someone. It's kind of pathetic but pretty funny when it comes down to it"

For only like the third time since you met him you saw a blush spread across Billy's face before he said "Ok Frankie your time is up. Go call Curt and annoy him" then shoved him out of view of the screen. You tried and failed to stifle a laugh "Wait I want Frank back! I wanna hear about you pining over me. Come on Billy if you're gonna be with me the least you can do is give me a confidence boost" you teased.

He rolled his eyes then met your gaze with a look that made your stomach flip with unspoken promises "Oh sweetheart I'll do anything you want once I'm home but yes for your peace of mind I was a bit bitchy thinking about you with that damn fireman" 

"Hunter" you supplied the name and he wrinkled up his nose like he smelled something foul "Yea him. But now I know you feel the same way about me. Hell for the first time I've got someone to come home to" "On one condition" you added and saw a look of confusion go through his eyes "which is?" "I get a kiss the moment you get to my side" you answered and the look you got in response was enough to make you bite your bottom lip but not from nerves this time "Where do you want that kiss?" He asked and you had to swallow hard for a moan to not escape you. "Billy Russo. You're supposed to wine and dine me before you try to seduce me"

He shrugged "I've still got a few months before that so why not get a head start on the seducing part" you shook your head but couldn't keep the smile off your face. Billy really did want you and now it was just the wait to get him home.

Tags @intothesoul

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